Chapter 10 #2
“Doc stopped by yesterday,” he says, seeming to change the subject to something lighter. “Said you were doing a damn fine job at the bar without me and that I shouldn’t worry.”
I smile, knowing there’s no way he wouldn’t. “But of course, you worry anyway.”
“Damn straight. Built that honkytonk myself, from the ground up with these two hands, and lived most of my life in those walls. Or at least the best years. So I don’t need no city slicker coming in and mucking it up.” He’s teasing me, lights sparkling in his dull blue eyes.
“I’m not mucking up anything. We did just fine last night, and I’m ready to open for lunch and work till close tonight. We’ll be fine. You stay home and nap, old man,” I tease, but truthfully, he looks like he could use it.
“I’ll nap when I’m dead,” he retorts. “Until then, I’ve got shit to do.
Actually, I’ll probably let you handle today,” he concedes, as though I’d thought he was going to hop up and go to the bar with me for the day.
I had no illusions as such. “I’ve got some things to do around the house, but tomorrow, I’ll be there, and I’ll expect you to be off gallivanting around, doing whatever it is you young’uns do these days.
Like ‘talking’ and taking pictures for your ‘blogs’.
” He does air quotes around both words, which makes me laugh because he’s using them wrong, but in his mind, he’s perfectly correct.
“You sure? We’re closed Monday, so that’s two whole days off in a row. Wouldn’t want me to get spoiled, now would you?” What I really mean is, can he handle the bar alone tomorrow?
He grins back, nodding. “Girl, if you’d let me, I’d spoil the ever-loving shit outta ya. I missed you, Willow.”
What started as sweet turned deeply sentimental, and I feel the hot burn of tears in the corners of my eyes again but refuse to let them fall. Unc doesn’t want me to cry over him, but it’s hard to swallow down the lost time and the fear of losing even more.
“I missed you too, Unc. Anything you need, I’m your girl, okay? I don’t want to let years go by again and us feel like we lost something important,” I choke out.
He pats my hand again, content in that old man way. “We won’t even let days go by this time. Sometimes, that’s as long as you get, and you gotta take advantage of every one.”
I dip my chin, half-nodding and half-hiding the tears I blink away.
“All right then, get on to the bar. You’ve got work to do today, girl. And I’d best not hear of Patrick having to break up any fights. Your man’s or anyone else’s.”
I laugh lightly, hoping he’s kidding. Bobby might’ve punched that tourist the first night, but he deserved it. Bobby’s been nothing but a gentleman ever since.
I intentionally leave the whole box of doughnuts with hopes that Unc will snack on them throughout the day and let him escort me to the door.
He’s limping a bit more today, something that had been getting better since he’s been spending most shifts sitting at the beer taps.
I give him a hug, feeling the bones of his lean frame beneath his loose T-shirt.
“I love you, Unc.”
“Aw, I love you too, Willow. Now I’d best not see you until Tuesday lunch, y’hear?”
I do the quick mental check on that. I’m working today and he’s staying home to rest, he’s doing tomorrow’s shift, then we’re closed on Monday, so yeah, he’s right.
I think I’ll make sure Doc or Richard swings by tomorrow to sit at the bar with him.
He won’t suspect a thing if his friends come to visit and drink the day away before their poker game.
Dismissed, I get in my car and head to work knowing that I’m going to do extra prep work to make sure that Unc can do as little as possible tomorrow.
I’m waist-deep in the weeds, pulling soft drinks and beers mostly because folks don’t default to the hard stuff mid-day around here very often, and helping Olivia run food to tables.
It’s just the three of us, Olivia and me up front and Ilene in the back.
Daniel comes in at five for the dinner rush.
“What do you do when you need a day off?” I ask Olivia as I fill her tray with another round of drinks. “You’re literally the only waitress who works here.”
“Day off?” she sasses with a look of mock confusion.
“What’s that?” I wish she were kidding, but I get the feeling she’s not.
“Really, I work as much as I can and am happy to do it. Hannah’s working too.
Owning her own shop is a twenty-four, seven gig, so we’ll see each other tonight after we get off work.
On the rare occasion I really do need a day, Hank has customers come to the counter to order and calls them back up when their food’s ready. Folks understand.”
I can’t help but smile. Here, in Great Falls, they do understand and are probably happy to help a fellow resident have a day off.
But in the city? No way, no how. There’d be some Karen threatening a one-star Yelp review because the service was ‘offensive’.
But the sense of community here is something I hadn’t expected, and it feels .
. . right. I’ve been accused of being a doormat, letting people walk all over me when all I really wanted to do was lend a hand, but here, everyone’s like that.
“Well, just so you’re ready for it, Hank’s given me tomorrow off.
I’m going to do as much prep work as I can so that all he has to do is sit on his butt and pour beer, but can you keep an eye on him?
Make sure he eats and doesn’t overdo it?
” I don’t add that he looked awful this morning and was well on his way to a nap just from our visit, so I’m seriously doubting his ability to work a full shift.
Olivia’s eyes narrow and she taps the bar.
“Absolutely. I got the old guy covered. If he gets too cranky, I’ll send him to his office to do paperwork and handle the bar myself.
I can’t make cocktails, but alcohol’s alcohol and folks can take what they can get or go somewhere else.
” She snaps her fingers and grins. “Oh, right, there’s nowhere else to go, so they can drink beer and damn well like it. ”
“Thanks,” I tell her, meaning it deeply. I think she will look out for Unc. Actually, from how quickly she suggested sending him to his office, I think she’s been looking out for him for a while.
By mid-afternoon, I get a lull and really get to work prepping.
I’ve got every lemon and lime in the fridge cut, knowing I’ll use some tonight but will still have enough for Unc tomorrow.
I’ve overstocked every napkin holder, washed a whole stack of bar towels, and cleaned everything to within an inch of its life so that Unc won’t even feel the need to wipe a rag around.
I move on to rearranging the most used liquors to the side of the bar closest to the beer taps.
It’s a huge overstep on my part. Rearranging someone’s bar is akin to pulling their socks and underwear from their dresser drawers and organizing them a different way, but I think this will be a good change for Unc in the long run.
The phone rings and I answer, “Hank’s, Willow speaking. How can I help you?”
“Oh good, I was hoping it’d be you who answered,” a female voice says so fast I barely catch it.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s Shayanne. We’re wrapping up at the farmer’s market and we already ate our lunch and snacks. I wanted to see if Ilene would package us up some food to go? Well, that and I wanted to talk to you too.” Every word is fast, nearly on top of the last, and I have to pay attention to catch each one.
“Uh, sure. What do you want to eat and I’ll go ahead and get that started?” I say, focusing on the easy part.
“Have her do a big box of fries, fried pickles, and fried mushrooms,” Shayanne answers, damn near asking for a heart attack in a box. But they all work hard, so maybe they can handle eating like that?
I scribble the order on a piece of paper, making a note that it’s to-go for Shayanne, and slip it to Ilene, who sticks it to her order rack before turning back to the grill.
“I was hoping to get by the market this morning too,” I tell Shay. “I thought it would be a great photo op, but I didn’t have time before opening. Maybe next time?”
“That’d be great! I can show you all the cute little booths and you can take pictures for your blog!
” She sounds super excited about the idea, but then she screeches like a record scratch.
“Oh, not that I mean you need to advertise for us. I totally didn’t mean it like that, promise.
I meant that it’d be fun and cute, not to take advantage, and . . . I’m going to shut up now.”
I laugh, especially when she immediately starts talking again.
“I wanted to see if you’d come out to the farm sometime.
I know you’re off Monday—Bobby’s been talking about that already.
Believe me, we know. But being the lady of the Tannen house, well .
. . kinda, considering I don’t live there anymore, but the point being, I wanted to invite you out.
What do you think?” She stops on a dime, the one run-on sentence ending abruptly.
“Oh, well . . . thank you. I’d love to, but I think it’d be better if I wait for Bobby to invite me? I wouldn’t want to intrude before he’s ready.” Or before I’m ready, I think.
“He won’t mind a bit. It could be our little secret.
You’d be like a surprise gift, and I’d be the best sister ever.
Well, technically, I’m his only sister, but the point stands that I’m the best. Obviously.
” She sounds utterly convinced, and nothing or no one could sway her otherwise.
“You could take pictures of my goats. They’re the cutest critters ever, except for Baarbara.
She’s gotten a bit persnickety in her old age.
But I have a few babies. C’mon, nobody can turn down fluffy, cuddly, adorable baby goats that curl up in your lap for ear scratches. ”