Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Emmet
St. Patrick’s Day is on a Monday, but the bar is celebrating all weekend.
The guys—the group of guys who are here all the time—threw some ideas around to help me out.
Some of them stuck, and I’ve put them into the itinerary for the weekend.
I anticipate it being busy, especially since the kitchen is fully renovated and complete.
We’re offering a brunch on Sunday that you had to buy tickets for—they’re sold out—and came up with a few different Irish dishes to offer on the other days.
There will be a live band, a shot contest, a best outfit contest, a temporary tattoo station that will be set up all weekend, and we will have movies that focus on the holiday in some way playing on the new sixty inch TVs I installed last week.
This weekend is a great way to get people into the bar and get us noticed.
Summer is coming, and I have plenty of fun stuff planned.
I’ve posted fliers with a list of events in both bathrooms and on the bulletin board.
Live music, bingo nights, a stand-up comedian, and a ton of other stuff.
Right now, finances are looking good, but only time will tell if that stays true.
“What else can we help with?” Benton asks as I’m putting in the last few bottles of beer into the cooler. He sweeps his blond hair away from his face, his bright blue eyes almost glowing under the light.
I look around the bar. They did a great job decorating.
There are streamers hanging from the ceiling, a mix of light and dark green tablecloths, and accessories for people to wear for photos on the tables.
The temporary tattoo station is set up in the corner with spray bottles full of water, paper towels, and hundreds of little tattoo cut-outs.
The table by the stage is set up for the DJ tomorrow night, and we will take it down when he’s finished to prepare for the band coming in on Saturday.
“I think we’re good, Benton. Thank you so much for your help.”
“It’s no problem. Me, Johnny, and Grey are going to head out.”
“Have a great night, and get home safe.”
He smiles before heading over to his boyfriends, and they leave together. The only people left here now are Pete, Nathanial, and Mario.
“I think this is as good as it gets,” I say, coming around the bar.
“Looks good,” Mario says with a proud nod.
“Not as good as him,” Nathanial adds with a wink, nudging me with his elbow.
I huff out a laugh. “Do you ever stop?”
“No,” Mario and Pete say at the same time.
Nathanial mocks offense. “I’m just being honest!”
“Well, anyway, thank you all for your help. You all get a free drink tomorrow night,” I say.
“Aww, and he’s sweet too.” Nathanial bats his eye lashes.
“Good night!” I call out as they head for the door. I hear Nathanial laughing until he’s on the sidewalk.
I gather my things to leave, locking up behind me. The drive home is quick. There isn’t much traffic at this time of night.
My house is dark when I pull up to it, and I sit in the car, just staring at it. This house is nice, but it’s so… empty. I grew up with a house full of people. I got used to the noise and it became a comfort to me. Even with the TV and radio on, there is no life in this house.
In California, I lived in a duplex with my parents, so even though I was on my own, I was close. It was by choice because I love them and didn’t have any reason to leave. We’ve always been close, and that’s just how things were. They were getting older, and I felt better being there.
Moving here has been a change in so many ways.
Being alone. The bar. The house. The city.
My mother passing… something I’m not quite sure I’ve dealt with yet.
I prepared myself for this when we first found out, because we knew she didn’t have much time, but it doesn’t make this part of it any easier.
Knowing she isn’t around when I want to talk to her is the hardest part.
I’d accepted she was dying before, but at the end of the day, she was still here. Now she’s not.
I’m not sure if all this change at once was better or worse—like ripping off a band-aid, getting it all done at the same time, rather than spreading it out. Maybe. I don’t know, and I can’t change it now.
My mind drifts, and I imagine having a different life.
Coming home late at night. I’d open the door, and Adam would be waiting up for me on the couch, the TV on, sleep in his eyes because he’d fallen asleep even though when I ask, he’ll say he’s wide awake.
The kids are asleep in their rooms, and I look in on them to make sure they’re okay before I start to settle in for the night.
I’ll shower, then Adam and I will go to bed together.
Maybe make love, maybe fuck. We do both, and both are amazing.
We’d wake up the next day, I’d cook us breakfast while he gets the kids settled with cartoons.
We’d eat together, then spend the afternoon doing fun things like going to the park or going for a hike.
Why did he ever think he couldn’t have this with me?
He never said those words to me, but his fears were obvious.
He made some of them known by the questions he’d ask or the comments he’d made.
When he left me, it was abrupt, but it shouldn’t have been such a shock.
I allowed myself to ignore the signs. I trusted him, I loved him, I wanted to be with him.
Nothing else mattered. Everything would be fine because I had him and he had me. I was so wrong. So damn wrong.
Some would say he doesn’t deserve another chance, but I don’t believe that for a second.
Adam didn’t hurt me on purpose. He was young and scared and didn’t know what to do.
I can’t blame him for that. We’re older now, and though we have things to work on, we can figure it out.
We will figure it out together because it’s what we both want.
I shut my car off and head inside. The house is too quiet, too dark, too empty. I should get more furniture, but I can’t justify buying stuff I won’t use. I’m hardly here to use what I have now. I go right to the bathroom to hop in the shower, washing off the smell of the bar and the kitchen.
I have interviews all week next week for cooks and another bartender.
I’d wanted to hire someone before this big weekend but I just got too busy with other things, so I’m going to be there to help Pete man the bar.
And hopefully, there will be some promising people for jobs, and we can get them trained and settled before our next big event.
When I’m clean, I drop onto my bed and throw the blankets over me.
I toss and turn for a long time, glancing at the clock often.
Adam must be sleeping by now, and though I want to call him, I won’t.
He’s with the kids, and I’d hate to wake them up.
I decide to send him a text, just a simple one saying good night.
Then I roll over and force myself to sleep.