Chapter 9
Sebastian
Ara and I had been too young to have a drink legally together. Yet, it somehow felt right, easy, and something we had always done as I sat next to her in McCarthy’s. The bar was typical of New York City Irish pubs. The sound of traditional Irish music played in the background and I could smell the distinct aroma of pub food coming from the back, along with the occasional curse. The bar was done in a dark brown wood with stools in front. There were pictures of rugby players and the Irish countryside scattered on the wall as well as neon signs of the beers on tap, including Guinness, Harp, and Smithwick’s
The place wasn’t well lit, which I was a fan of. It allowed me to sit, enjoy, have a beer, and hopefully not get recognized. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened outside of Ara’s work. I didn’t think anyone would know me at the bar, or at least they wouldn’t say anything. It had that vibe that everyone was welcome and they weren’t going to judge. It helped that the bar was so far away from my apartment and the theater, no one would expect to find me there.
I arrived early. I didn't want to be late and I wanted to see how it looked and if there was a place in the corner we could talk and not be disturbed. The atmosphere was so easy and relaxing and I found myself sitting at the bar talking to Jack, the bartender, instead. He was friendly, without being intrusive. He gave me a look like he knew who I was but didn’t make a comment. It turned out he was a hockey fan and we discussed the prospects of our respective teams. Luckily, our teams weren’t in the same division so it didn’t get too heated, but it was still a fun conversation.
Even as we talked, I kept looking at the door and the window, trying to see the moment that Ara arrived. Jack didn’t seem to mind and kept up an easy conversation as he filled drinks and I looked toward the door.
“Ah, so that’s who you've been waiting for. I can see why you’re so excited,” Jack said when Ara arrived outside the bar.
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.
Jack walked to the edge of the bar and bent down so he could see her better. “Are you sure she feels the same way about you? Looks like she isn’t sure if she wants to come in.”
“She’ll be in. I’m sure,” I said slowly.
Ara had agreed to meet me. She had sounded confident when we had finalized the plans in her boss’s office. She wasn’t one who changed her mind or had second thoughts. As I waited for her to come inside, I couldn’t be sure what she was doing. Jack and I sat and watched her for a few more minutes before he said, “Dude, I don’t think she’s coming in.”
“Oh, she’ll come in,” I said, more positive than I felt.
Jack knocked on the table and had me looking over at him. “I know people, especially women. That one’s about to bail.”
“No, she isn’t,” I said.
Wanna bet?” he asked, a smug look on his face.
His look wasn’t as smug when I walked back inside with Ara’s hand in mine. It felt good to have it there. Like it was right, that it belonged there, that it should always be there. I hadn’t been big on holding her hand when we were younger. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it or what a great, yet simple thing it could be. It was just one of many things I promised to do more with Ara.
“So, what will it be?” Jack asked as we approached the bar.
Reluctantly, I let go of Ara’s so I could pull out her chair. “Is it okay if we sit here?” I asked.
“I think it is required,” Jack said.
Ara stood in front of her stool and said “Ara,” to Jack and held out her hand.
“Charmed, but you can call me Jack,” he said and kissed Ara’s hand.
I pushed down the jealousy that threatened to come to the surface. Jack was being friendly. I had wanted to have a casual atmosphere with Ara. Jack was helping achieve that goal. Still, I didn’t like his lips touching her skin or the smile that she gave him.
“What IPAs do you have on tap? Or which one would you recommend?” Ara asked as she settled into her chair.
“Your man here was having the Stone Creek. It’s one of my faves,” Jack offered.
Ara looked over at me and then at the beer before picking it up and taking a taste.
“Sure, go right ahead. I don't mind,” I teased. I actually didn’t. I liked to think that she was already comfortable enough with me that she could do something as intimate as take a sip of my drink.
“That is nice. But what else do you have?” Ara asked as she put the glass back in front of me.
“We have one from Chicago, it’s a bit hoppier but has a good finish. Or we have one from Brooklyn we just got in. I haven’t had a chance to try it so I can’t tell you how it is.”
“Let’s try the Brooklyn one. I like to stay local if I can,” Ara said.
“Coming right up,” Jack said and poured her a glass.
“And for you?” Jack asked me.
“Oh, so kind of you to notice. I’ll have what she’s having.”
“Smart man,” Jack said and filled our order.
He joined us in trying the beer and we all agreed it was better than the Stone Creek. We chatted about beers, different breweries we had visited, and where we all thought the industry was going. It was nice to talk to Jack and get to know him. I had never had a local bar and while this one wasn’t close to my place, I could see myself coming back. As nice as it was, I wanted to talk to Ara alone. It was only after we had finished our first round that it happened.
“Ah, alone at last,” I said when Jack walked away.
Ara lifted her glass and eyed me over it. “Jack’s a nice guy. I was enjoying the conversation.”
“I was too, and I would gladly come back and have a beer or two. But I didn’t come here to make new friends.”
“You didn’t. I thought you were trying to be friends with me.”
“We were already friends,” I countered.
“Friends? Is that what you would call us?” She eyed me as she took a sip of her beer.
I leaned forward and got into her space. “Would you like me to call us something else?” I asked.
Her eyes got big and she looked away. I could tell immediately it was too much too soon, so I tried a different approach. “This isn’t an insult, and I have a feeling no matter what I say, this will come out wrong. But I never thought you would be a beer drinker.”
“I’m not. Well, not all the time. But when I’m in an Irish bar, I think the situation calls for it. Plus, they aren’t always known for their excellent wine selection.”
“Are you saying you need an excellent wine collection?”
“Not necessarily when I go out drinking. I have a rather impressive one at my apartment.”
“Really? Is that an invitation to see it?” I teased.
“No,” she said and leaned away from me.
“Fair enough.” I put my hands up in mock surrender. “You, however, are welcome to check out my collection anytime you want. I brought a few bottles with me when I moved here. I would be curious what you think.”
“Are they all California wines?” she taunted.
“Some. I’ve done some tasting through the years. I found out I’m not a fan of the bigger wineries. I prefer the ones in some random town along the coast or where it’s just the family making the wines and has been for generations. I found a couple like that when I was in St. Emilion a few years back.”
“You’ve been to St. Emilion?” Ara asked, clearly impressed I had been to the small region in France.
“Yes. Have you?” I immediately thought about what it would be like to walk the vineyards and drive the countryside with Ara by my side.
“I haven’t had the pleasure, but one day.”
“You would love it. It’s vibrant, but understated. Rich in history and culture but not pretentious. You can feel how old it is but in a good way. You know that every wall, every road, every grape has a story to tell.”
“And did you want to be the one to tell those stories?” Ara turned in her seat to look at me, her green eyes intense as she did.
“I hadn’t thought about it that way. I could. I guess. If the right chance came along.”
“If the right chance? You never struck me as a man who would wait for the opportunity to come along. You could write the stories; you could make the opportunity,” Ara suggested.
I could feel myself blushing and was strangely embarrassed and almost self-conscious about her comment. “It’s been a long time since I have even thought about writing much less done any.” I took a sip of my beer as my throat had become very dry.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You always were so good at it.” Ara held my gaze and I knew she meant it. She was the only one who ever knew that I wanted to be a writer. I had always done well in my English classes and thought if it didn’t work out for me being an actor, I could try that route. But then my career had taken off and the idea had been pushed aside. I had been so caught up in my success, then finding a way to get to Ara, I had practically forgotten about it.
“Thank you, but not right now. What about you? How are Ella and Layla? They doing well?”
“Very,” Ara said slowly.
It took her a second but she figured out that I didn’t want to talk about my career. She didn’t ask any more questions but I could tell she wanted to. I knew she would be distracted by talking about Ella and Layla. I had known them briefly and had always admired how close the three women were. I was genuinely interested in how they were doing.
We spent the next two hours talking about friends and family. We had gotten to know the others, or at least about them years ago. My interest in knowing about Ara and her life had not changed and it was nice to catch up. I gave her only broad strokes when it came to my parents; that was a longer conversation and not one for our first meeting.
The sound of my alarm going off on my phone interrupted our conversation. When I turned it off, I saw how late it was. I was surprised at how much time had passed. Though maybe I shouldn’t have. I had never had an issue talking to Ara. It made me think that if we had fallen back into that old habit, it might not be too hard to fall into others.
“Got a hot date?” Ara asked.
She finished her drink and gave me an accusatory look. I took a sip of my beer before I answered. “No. Actually, that’s my reminder that I should go to bed.”
“You go to bed this early?” she teased.
“It’s eleven o’clock at night,” I said.
“No, it isn’t,” Ara said and then looked at her watch. “Shit.”
“Time flies when you’re having fun.”
She looked up at me and took a deep breath. I could tell she hadn’t expected to enjoy herself so much or to be sad it was ending. “Yeah.”
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out some money. “We should do this again sometime. I have rehearsals the next couple of days, but I could meet you again sometime when you’re free,” I suggested.
I wanted to see her the next night. I wanted to see her every night. I wanted to take her back to my place and my bed. But I had pushed once before and I had pissed her off. I knew I couldn’t do that again. I needed to take things slow. She had agreed to see me, I now needed to work on a second meeting. And they would be meetings, hanging out with a friend, not dates. At least not yet.
“Maybe. I have to check my work schedule. Can I text ya?” she asked.
“Sure. But that would mean you would have to give me your number,” I said.
“I’m aware that’s how it would work. Give me your phone.” She put her hand out. I had to suppress a smile. I had hoped to see her again. I hadn’t counted on being lucky enough to get her number.
“Hopefully, this will prevent you from stalking me. Or randomly showing up at my work.” She handed my phone back to me.
I put my phone in my back pocket and said, “I learned my lesson. I won’t do anything about us unless you expressly tell me you want it. And I mean anything.”
Ara didn’t respond but her eyes told me she understood what I was saying. I wasn’t going to push her. If anything happened between us, if we moved back to what we had been, it would be entirely up to her.