2. Good news travels fast
Good news travels fast
“Do you think it was on Halloween, when you guys did it while still wearing your costumes?” Jules asked Paige, after being told the amazing (yet not unexpected) news that she was, indeed knocked up and was due on July tenth, which could make the date of conception possibly be Paige’s favorite holiday.
How perfect would that be?
“Oh, my God,” David muttered, from where he was sitting, just out of frame of the FaceTime call. “How did she know about that?”
Before Paige could respond in any way, Jules’ eyebrows drew together. “Is that David?”
“Yes, it’s David,” he replied loudly.
“Why?”
“You mean why is he here with me?” Paige asked. “Because it’s his news to share, too.”
Jules leaned closer so that her face filled the screen and whispered, “Get rid of him, so we can have a proper conversation.”
“I heard that,” David said.
Paige turned to him. “Why don’t you give us a few minutes?”
There was a bit of shuffling, and then he was gone, leaving the two women to have a ‘proper conversation’, which involved more hypothesizing about possible conception dates, because Paige was a little leery of having conceived her baby while she and David were dressed up as Daphne and Fred, respectively.
From there, the conversation drifted to David’s ex-girlfriend, Ashley, and her fears about her nipples being ‘ruined’ if she breast-fed their son, Jacob, and her vagina being stretched out during childbirth—neither of which Jules had ever given much thought to, since children had never been on her radar.
After hanging up, Jules sat there for several long moments, a huge smile on her face at the thought of Paige being pregnant again and going full term this time, because she would.
Jules wouldn’t let herself think any differently.
By the end of the day, the need to celebrate her friend’s blessing, even if it was without her friend (because Paige likely had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing, celebratory sex scheduled for the evening), had Jules taking a chance and heading to Three Amigos.
She figured Evan had been told about the baby as well, and felt the need to see him and share the joy.
As she stepped into the bar, she was relieved to see he was working, along with Lars.
The moment Evan saw her, he pointed to an open barstool in front of him. As she sat down, they shared a grin before she asked, “You heard the good news?”
“I did,” he answered. “Looks like you were right.”
She shrugged, as if being right was all in a day’s work. “Boobs don’t lie.”
His eyes started to drop toward the vicinity of her breasts, only to quickly move away, reminding Jules of the night they’d met when she’d caught him checking her out, and it had pissed her off.
She’d thought he was a player, who was going to fuck around with Paige and then disappear, and Jules had let him have it with both barrels.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Evan said, then rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. “I can’t wait to tell my sister, Evelyn, the good news.”
“Why?”
“Because we made a bet about when they’d have a baby. Well, technically, it was about when they’d conceive ,” he clarified. “I said David would have Cat Lady knocked up within six months and Evelyn said it wouldn’t be for a year.”
“How much was the bet?”
“Fifty bucks.”
“Well, congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
He slid a glass of water toward Jules, then started preparing two shots consisting of two ounces of coffee liqueur topped with half an ounce of Irish cream liqueur.
When he was done, he set one in front of Jules and lifted his own. “A Baby Guinness shot in honor of baby Lowe, who should be here in about six months.”
After clinking the small glasses together, they threw back the shots .
“So, when do you think the little rugrat was conceived?” Evan asked, as he leaned across the bar. “If my math is correct, I’m guessing it was around Halloween.”
Jules laughed. “Oh, my God, I was thinking the same thing. I even asked if that’s when they thought it happened—”
“When they were in their costumes!”
“Yes! How funny would that be?”
“Holy shit, I told David it would have been even funnier if he’d been dressed as Daphne, instead of Fred, like he’d wanted. That would’ve been kinky.”
Jules’ laughter turned a few heads as she let loose, and for a moment, Evan simply enjoyed the sound of it as goose bumps erupted over his skin. Then, needing a distraction, he busied himself making her a gimlet and pushed it toward her.
“Do you remember everyone’s favorite drinks?” she wanted to know.
“Of course,” he lied. “That’s what makes me the quintessential bartender.”
“Is that a Word-of-the-Day?”
“Not today’s word, but it was one of my words last week.”
“What’s today’s word?”
“Ebullient. Which is actually rather fortuitous—another word from last week, by the way—given the good news we got today. I would say we’re both ebullient right now, wouldn’t you? I mean, obviously not as much as Paige and David are, but probably a close second.”
“Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?”
“I know Paige will worry a little until she gets farther along in the pregnancy.”
Evan’s expression dimmed a bit. “Has she always wanted kids?”
“Always. She was talking about the house and picket fence, a couple of kids, and a menagerie of pets—”
“I love that word,” Evan said with a snap of his fingers. “Menagerie.”
Jules shook her head at him before continuing. “Anyway, she’s been a homebody for as long as I’ve known her and she’s always wanted to be settled, unlike me.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Since college. We were roommates, and for four years, I dragged her to as many parties as I could, and to as many bars as possible. David will deny it until his last breath, but I’m the reason the two of them got together.”
Evan hadn’t heard this story, so Jules shared the details of the meeting at Brews Brothers, when she’d made Paige go over and introduce herself to David, after witnessing the back-and-forth glances for several minutes.
“So, you’ve never wanted the house and picket fence? Kids?” Evan asked, when Jules was finished.
“Not really, no. I’ve never dreamed about wearing the white dress and getting married, or had the driving need to have a child.”
“Not even with the ‘right man’?” Evan asked, using air quotes.
Jules gave that some thought before saying, “I don’t think I believe there’s a ‘right man’ out there, who will make me want to completely change my life and have a baby.
However, I do think the ‘right man’ could make me want to live my best life with him—maybe married, maybe not.
” She turned the tables on him. “What about you?”
It was his turn to contemplate. “I’ve never really thought about kids, to be honest. It might be because my brother and sister have enough to go around, and I’m fine being Uncle Evan.
I mean, that could change, depending on who I end up with.
If it’s a man, and he’s set on kids, then there’s adoption or surrogacy, and if it’s a woman, then she might want kids.
But either way, I don’t see myself as the driving force behind having kids.
” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess that makes me an anomaly.”
“I’m an anomaly, too,” Jules told him, taking a drink from her water glass. “And that’s okay. We’re all allowed to walk our own path.”
For the next few hours, she watched Evan work, fixing drinks and talking to customers, being charming and flirtatious. He seemed to be doing a dozen things at once, but he was always aware of Lars getting near her and was quick to head him off before he got close enough to strike up a conversation.
She could see the dynamic between the two men was not overly friendly. Jules thought it had more to do with Evan just not liking Lars, rather than it being an employer/employee thing, as Evan got along well with all the other employees.
She started watching Lars out of curiosity, and began to notice an interesting pattern emerge. While Evan put all his tips straight into the jar, Lars always pocketed his, and she also saw him take money out of the jar several times when Evan was otherwise occupied and not paying attention.
When the patrons had mostly cleared out, and closing was still a half hour away, Evan had most of the servers clock out, along with Lars. Jules stayed and watched Evan empty the tip jar, count it, then put what looked like half into an envelope and give it to Lars before he left.
“You and Lars split the tips?” she wanted to know.
“Yes. The waitresses obviously keep theirs, but he and I split all the bar tips to be fair.”
She pursed her mouth.
“What?” he demanded.
“I’m pretty sure the only tips you two are sharing are yours , because all the tips he received from customers went directly into his pocket.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No. And I’m also pretty sure he was outright skimming from the jar when you were busy making drinks or had to go in the back for something. He probably took out twenty-five dollars—and that’s just since I started noticing a couple of hours ago.”
“That fucking asshole,” Evan muttered, tossing his bar rag down in disgust.
Jules was in complete agreement. “You should fire him.”
“I’ve tried, for many reasons, but all hires and fires have to be approved by me, Everett, and Evelyn—and unfortunately, since they both like Lars, I haven’t been able to get rid of him.”
“You should be able to now, though, since you know he’s stealing,” she pointed out.
“I hope so.”
“But if you still can’t, I’d at least get rid of the tip jar. If someone tips him, that’s fine, but at least he won’t be stealing tips from you anymore. And if someone tips you, you won’t have to worry about sharing, or having tips stolen.”
He nodded slowly. “Good idea.”
“Why do you have a tip jar, anyway?” she wanted to know.
“Because tips sometimes help cover rent and other expenses, that’s why.”
“Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, I am.”