5. Griffin #2
“Right…” I have no idea what that means.
Lars leans forward, studying my face. “Hey, I know you. You’re that new goalie, yes? For Visp?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” Finally, something familiar to talk about. “You follow hockey?”
“Of course! I am a big hockey fan!”
“Cool.”
Meanwhile, they’re all throwing cards down in some pattern I can’t follow. I stare at my hand, completely lost.
“I saw the game with Davos.” Lars leans forward. “That save in the third period was good.”
“Thanks, man.” I feel myself relaxing a bit. Hockey fans are hockey fans, no matter the country. “That was a tough game.”
“Play your card,” Colin interrupts, tapping the table impatiently.
I glance down, having completely lost track of what’s happening.
“So, this card beats that one?” I ask before laying down a card. The others exchange knowing smirks.
I second guess my choice, picking up another card at random, earning groans from around the table.
“Ah, you had the shield!” Lars shakes his head.
“Right, sorry, I?—”
“Ha!” Evan slaps down a Jack with a flourish. “Trump suit! Pay up, hockey man!”
The guys burst into cheers as Evan sweeps my twenty francs from the pile. I watch my money disappear, feeling like I just got played in more ways than one.
“Maybe we should go over those rules again?”
“Next hand will be better!” Colin declares, already dealing new cards. “Now you understand the game, yes?”
I really don’t, but their eager faces make it hard to back out now.
A sharp voice cuts through the pub, making the men at the table freeze. The Swiss German words snap like a whip, and even though I don’t understand them, the tone is crystal clear.
“Ich han euch scho hundert mal gseit, ihr sollet nid mit touriste charte spiele!”
The guys groan collectively.
I know that voice.
I turn around and there she is. Anika comes around from behind the bar, hands on her hips, glaring at my new “friends.” Her hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, wisps framing her face. She’s wearing a vintage Depeche Mode T-shirt that looks like it’s been well-loved.
My new card buddies shrink under her fierce gaze as she continues her tirade. Colin’s mustache twitches nervously while Lars suddenly finds his empty beer glass fascinating.
“These gentlemen,” she switches to English, turning to me. “They know very well that Jass takes years to master. And they are playing with a special Swiss deck.” She extends her hand toward Evan. “Give his money back.”
“But, Anika!” Evan starts to protest.
“Now.” Her eyes narrow. “Or maybe we can discuss your tab?”
Evan’s face turns as red as his flannel shirt. And just like that, my twenty francs slide back across the table.
“Sorry,” Lars mumbles, studying the floor.
I pick up the money, fighting back a grin as I watch these grown men squirm under Anika’s disapproving stare.
There’s something about the way she carries herself, like she could take on a bear and the bear would apologize. I’m finding it absolutely fascinating.
She signals me to follow her to the bar, and like a puppy, I trail after her. I claim the same barstool as she sets a shot glass in front of me.
“These guys,” she tells me. “They pull this trick on tourists all the time. I tell them to stop, but they’re stubborn.”
She gets a bottle of whiskey and opens the lid.
“Oh no, thanks,” I say, waving it off. “I don’t want a shot.”
She squints one eye at me and pours anyway. “This is for me.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, why come to a bar if not to drink?”
I’m about to explain about not being able to sleep after losing the game, but something stops me. Maybe it’s the way she’s looking at me with those sharp eyes, like she can see right through me. Instead, I lean forward on my elbows and grin.
“We have to stop meeting like this. What were you doing when I first got here? In the bathroom again?”
Anika rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile. “I was in the office, doing paperwork. It’s usually dead this time of night.”
She takes her shot of whiskey in one smooth motion, then wipes the bar with a cloth that appears from nowhere.
“So this is why you couldn’t make it to the game?”
The reason she shot down my invitation to come watch me play. Probably for the best. We got our butts handed to us tonight.
“Someone has to keep these troublemakers in line.” She jerks her head toward the Jass players, who are now quietly nursing their beers.
“Wait a minute.” I straighten up as I remember something from our conversation at the cabin. “You said you were the boss. Are you the manager, or do you own it?”
“It was my father’s. Now it’s mine.”
The way she says it, quick and matter-of-fact, tells me not to push that topic. “Tainted Love” comes on, and Anika hums along as she wipes down glasses, completely in her element.
I nod along. “So what’s with the retro playlist? Not that I’m complaining.”
Anika shrugs, stacking clean glasses. “I like what I like.”
A crash from the Jass table makes us both turn. Colin’s knocked over his empty glass, and they’re all laughing way too loud.
Lars waves an empty beer mug in the air. “Anika! One more round!”
She shakes her head. “ Nei . You’ve had enough.”
“Come on!” Lars staggers to his feet. “Just one more!”
“We’re closed,” Anika says firmly, crossing her arms.
“But it’s early!” Evan protests, his words running together.
Anika’s eyes narrow dangerously. She points to the door. “Go!”
The men exchange glances, then slowly gather their jackets, grumbling under their breath.
“We’ll just go to Alpenglow, then!” Lars announces, trying to sound dignified as he wobbles toward the door. “They have better music.”
Anika’s laugh rings through the bar, a rich sound that makes me want to hear it again.
“Oh please! They won’t even let you through the door at Alpenglow.”
Colin’s mustache droops. “That’s not true.”
She wipes down the bar, completely unfazed. “You’ll be back tomorrow anyway.”
“Maybe we won’t,” Evan mutters, but there’s no conviction in it.
“ Tschüss !” Anika calls after them as they file out into the cold. The door closes behind them with a soft thud, leaving the bar suddenly quiet except for Soft Cell still playing overhead.
I chuckle as I watch those guys shuffle out, but now that they’re gone, maybe I can finally talk to her properly. I’ve been thinking about her ever since she dropped off those cookies. No. Ever since she broke in to use the bathroom, to be honest.
“You too.” Anika points to the door. “Out.”
“Wait, what?”
“Bar is closed.” She switches off the stereo mid-song, plunging us into silence.
“But I just got warm!” I protest. “I froze my butt off walking down here.”
She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You walked all the way from the chalet? Through the forest trail? In the dark?”
“Hey, I was hungry.”
“We don’t serve food here.”
“Wait.” I glance toward the door where the card players disappeared. “Those guys aren’t driving, are they?”
“Gr?chen is partly car-free,” she says, starting to stack chairs now. “Those guys all live in the village. Five-minute walk, maybe ten if they stop to sing.”
I scoff. “It’s a thirty-minute walk for me. Uphill.”
“Then you better start heading back.” She gets a broom from behind the bar and starts to sweep broken glass from under the table where the men were just sitting.
“Can I at least call an Uber first?”
That gets a real laugh out of her. Not the polite kind, but a full belly laugh. A snort even comes out.
“What’s so funny?”
“There is no Uber in Gr?chen.” She wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “We have one taxi, and Kurt is sleeping by now.”
I blink at her, not quite believing this is happening. “You’re seriously kicking me out?”
“I have things to do.” She props the broom against a wall “Glasses to wash, floors to mop…”
“I could help.” The offer slips out before I can stop it.
She moves behind the bar, pulling out cleaning supplies, and gives me a look that could melt ice. “And why would you do that?”
“Because I’m a nice guy?” I flash my most winning smile, the one that usually gets me out of trouble with Coach.
“Nice guys who help clean bars usually want something.” She adds soap to running water to wash the rest of the beer glasses. “What do you want?”
“A ride home would be nice.”
“Ah.” She nods sagely. “There it is.”
“Come on, it’s freezing out there!” I gesture toward the window, where frost is already forming on the glass. “I’ll probably get eaten by a bear.”
“There are no bears in Gr?chen.” She doesn’t even look up from her cleaning. “Maybe some foxes.”
“Foxes can be vicious!”
“They are more afraid of you than you are of them,” she says, hands full of suds. “Unless you’re carrying chicken in your pockets?”
“If I had chicken, I wouldn’t be hungry.”
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about.” She shuts off the water. So please go. I have work to do.”
“What about wolves?”
“No wolves either. Just hockey players who don’t know when to go home.”
“Are you sure you don’t want my help?” I offer, already reaching for a rag.
“No.” She snatches it away before I can grab it. “Out.”
“But—”
“Now.” She plants her hands on her hips.
I raise my hands in surrender, sliding off the barstool. “All right, all right. But if I don’t make it back to the cabin, it’s on your conscience.”
“I’ll light a candle for you,” she says dryly.
I toss the twenty francs on the bar for a tip, even though I didn’t drink anything. “You’re really not going to give me a ride?”
“ Guete Nacht , Griffin.” She makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Watch out for the foxes.”