by J. Sterling
There you go, Nick, here’s where our sixth sense lies—in sensing trouble when it walks into our bar.
The man glanced around, then took his drink and moved to the other side of the room. We all watched in silence as he reached out and touched the exposed brick here and there, almost looking like he was pushing every so often. Then he looked up for an unusual amount of time, and I wondered what he could possibly be doing since there were no ceiling tiles for him to count.
When he glanced back toward the bar, catching the three of us watching him, he let out a laugh that made chills run down my spine.
“What’s he doing?” Nick whispered.
“Losing his mind?” Frank suggested.
I stayed quiet, pretending to dry the already dry glass in my hands.
“Who owns this joint?” the man demanded, his voice commanding.
“We do,” Frank shot back, matching his tone.
“You three?” The man pointed a stubby finger at us.
When he reached inside the pocket of his jacket, my body instantly tensed, my mind racing as scenes of Sofia and Matson played in it on a loop. I assumed this man had a gun, and was about to pull it out and shoot us. I’d either seen one too many gangster movies, or I was more fucked up from Derek threatening to kill me than I realized.
When he pulled out an old piece of paper, I relaxed, even if my relief was short lived.
“What is that?” Frank asked as he leaned forward.
“Can’t you read, boy?” the man asked, his voice snide and condescending.
I glanced at the paper, noting the word Deed printed in bold letters on top. “What’s this?” I reached for it, but he slapped my hand.
“Don’t touch my shit,” he said, leveling me with a cold stare. “It’s the deed to this bar—”
“That’s impossible,” Frank said. “We own this bar. Bought it from Sam years ago.”
The stranger coughed out a laugh. “My apologies. It’s not the deed to the bar. It’s the deed to the land the bar sits on. So I’m going to need you boys to close up shop. You’re not welcome on my land.”
My blood chilled as it ran through my veins. When we’d negotiated the purchase of the bar from Sam White Jr., the son of the original owner, he’d never said anything about not owning the land it sits on. If he had, we would have bought both, because who wouldn’t?
Why would Sam keep that from us? And why would he sell the land to this asshole who looked like a mobster, and the bar to us?
Giving the man a hard look, I said, “We’re going to need to call Sam.”
The stranger put the paper back into his pocket and folded his thick arms across his chest. “Good luck trying to reach him, considering he’s dead.”
“He died?” Nick asked.
“Couple weeks ago now.”
Even though Nick never met Sam, he knew about the bar’s original owners and namesakes. Sam Sr. opened his bar right after prohibition ended and kept it afloat for decades until his son took over. Then Frank and I came along and offered to buy it from Sam Jr. at more than a fair price. Despite the outdated fixtures, we saw the business’s potential, and the location was beyond prime.
Since then, we’d updated most of the interior, but we kept the original name and some of the original fixtures. Frank and I wanted to pay homage to not only the family who originally owned the bar, but to the bar’s history as well.
We knew a lot of shit went down here back in the day, although we had no idea what, exactly. Only random stories fueled by the Hollywood rumor mill and online gossip; nothing that could ever be verified. But this bar started as Sam’s, and we were determined to keep it that way.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said mostly to myself, but everyone heard.
“We’ll get our lawyers on this, sir, but there’s got to be some sort of compromise.” Frank’s demeanor changed as he started to negotiate.
“I’m a fair man. I’ll compromise by giving you thirty days to vacate.”
“Thirty days?” Frank nearly choked, probably thinking about all the things we had coming up in the next month—like the baby and his wedding. “I’m sure we can work something out. We’ll buy the land back from you.”
The stranger laughed again, sounding more sinister than he had the first time. “No deal. I’m going to tear apart this bar brick by brick.”
This couldn’t be happening. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding.
“Why?” I asked, unable to imagine a single reason why anyone would want to destroy Sam’s Bar.
“None of your damn business. And don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, kid. It might get cut off.”
As my brothers and I exchanged shocked looks, the man slammed a twenty on the bar top.
“Keep the change. You’re going to need it, considering you’ll be out of business soon.”
“You can’t do this,” Frank shouted at his retreating back.
The stranger stopped cold and turned back to level a hard look on us. “Thirty days, pretty boys,” he growled, then turned and disappeared outside.
The Bar Is Our Baby
Ryan
Nick and I turned toward Frank. “What the hell was that?” we asked in unison.
He shook his head. “I’ll go call our lawyer.”
“Is that even legal?” Nick asked, his eyes wild. “That can’t be legal. That can’t be right, can it?”
“Yeah. I mean, it could be,” Frank said, sounding more than a little concerned. “I have all the paperwork for when we bought the bar in the back. I’ll go grab it.”
“It doesn’t make any sense.” I braced against the bar top, digging my fingernails into the wood.
“What part doesn’t make sense to you?” Frank asked.
“That Sam or our lawyer wouldn’t have told us the land and the business were separate.”
“They did, remember?” Frank asked.
As I thought back to the overwhelming process we went through while purchasing the business, it sounded a little familiar, but I wasn’t a hundred percent certain.
When I shook my head, Frank said, “Don’t you remember when Sam said he had no idea where the original deed was? He assumed his dad misplaced it, so we had a new one drawn up that he signed.”
“So then it’s fine, right?” Nick asked. “If we have a deed—”
Frank shook his head. “If that guy has the original, then there’s a good chance it supersedes ours.”
Still thinking back, I supposed it was possible, even if it seemed farfetched. When we met with Sam, Frank and I had been ready for battle, assuming that he was going to take one look at us and laugh us out of the place.
I leveled Frank with a look. “He was so happy when we bought the bar from him, remember?”
“I remember.”
“You guys didn’t tell me any of this,” Nick said, clearly angling for details.
Looking at my little brother, I said, “He said he’d had plenty of people trying to buy the bar before we came along. He told us that he refused to sell to money-hungry yuppies or crooks.”
Frank let out a small laugh. “He said he knew it was a pipe dream, but he wanted Sam’s to stay a bar. He didn’t want someone buying it just to tear it down and build some swanky hotel or stupid fancy-schmancy boutique. His words.”
I nodded, grinning at the memory. “And when we told him our plans to not only keep it a bar, but keep the name and a lot of the original fixtures, he couldn’t sign the paperwork fast enough.”
“He said we were just what he’d always hoped for,” Frank said.
“Except that we were too pretty and young.” I rolled my eyes. “And he hoped we were smarter than we looked.”
“Sounds like another old man we know.” Nick grinned, obviously meaning Grant.
“No kidding. I just don’t understand how this guy could have the original. If that was even a possibility, wouldn’t Sam have at least mentioned it to us?”
“Unless
he didn’t know,” Frank said with a shrug. “I’m going to go make those calls now. You two do your best not to freak the fuck out in the meantime.”
For some reason, his stern tone settled me slightly.
• • •
The next week seemed to both fly by and to drag. I had no idea how time could feel so contradictory, but it had.
We still had no answers in terms of the bar, and the shady guy hadn’t reappeared. The three of us did our best to calm our nerves, but the threat hung over us every hour of every day. We’d even stopped taking our usual days off, all of us wanting to be at the bar in case something happened or if he showed up again.
“Is Sofia giving you shit for being here all the time?” Nick asked as I lined up a stack of dried glasses.
“No, why? Is Jess giving you shit?”
“Nah.” He laughed. “She’s working a lot, so she probably doesn’t even notice I’m gone.”
“Claudia?” I asked Frank.
He shook his head. “Between her job and the last-minute wedding details, she’s got enough on her plate. She realizes that I’m here more, but she doesn’t ask why. She actually tells me to come here when I’m not being helpful.”
“So, all the time then?” Nick said before I could, and Frank socked him in the arm. Better him than me.
I placed the last clean glass on the shelf and tucked the towel in my back pocket. “Have you heard anything yet?”
Frank shrugged. “Nothing more than we already know. It’s definitely possible, but it would have been done so long ago that the files were never converted electronically. He’s got a paralegal digging through boxes of old records in the county courthouse basement.”
“Just like in a movie,” Nick said.
“We’re running out of time,” I said, stating the obvious.
“Twenty-two and a half days,” Nick said under his breath, and we all fell silent.
We were all stressed and worried, each of us in our own way. None of us wanted to lose what we’d built. It didn’t seem fair.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see Sofia’s name on the screen.
“What’s up, baby mama,” I said with a grin, then my breath caught in my throat at her words. “I’ll be right there. Don’t move. I’m coming.”
My hand shook as I pressed End and looked at my brothers, whose faces were etched with concern and worry.
“Is everything okay? Is Sofia all right?” they asked.
“H-her water broke,” I stuttered, terrified.
Of course the baby leaving Sofia’s body was inevitable, but it was suddenly very real. Somewhere in my subconscious, I must have thought that she’d stay pregnant forever. Not only was the baby coming out, but it was coming out today.
“Get out of here. Go,” Frank yelled as he shoved me.
“We’ll call Mom and Dad. Anyone else?” Nick asked as I reached for my keys and headed toward the back door.
“Uh, Grant and Mariana, I guess?”
“Who’s watching Matson?” Frank asked.
“Sofia’s parents will as soon as they get to the hospital. You guys are coming, right?” Adrenaline rushed through my body with no signs of slowing down.
“We’ll be there as soon as we settle up here. Go,” Frank said.
At his assurances, I nodded. At least, I think I nodded. I couldn’t feel my face anymore.
I raced home on autopilot, my mind spinning, my heart galloping inside my chest. When I burst through the front door, I found Sofia sitting on a chair in the kitchen with Matson holding her hand.
“Her water spilled on the floor,” he said, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“It’s okay, buddy. We’ll clean it up later. Let’s get your mom to the hospital, okay?”
When I looked into Sofia’s eyes, she looked so damn calm, I was immediately centered. But I couldn’t help but wonder how she could be so together at a time like this.
“My bag’s by the door,” she said softly.
“Do you feel okay? Are you having contractions? How far apart are they?” I spat out rapid-fire questions as if I had any damn idea what her answers would even mean. Sofia knew it too, which was why she laughed at me.
“I’m fine. But we should go.” She moved as if to get up, and I wrapped my arm around her waist and helped her to her feet. “I’ve already texted my parents, so they should be there soon.”
I nodded, letting her know I heard her. “Matson, can you grab your mom’s bag for me?”
“Sure.” He ran toward the duffel Sofia had packed weeks ago, placed the strap on his shoulder, and hefted it up. “I got it.”
“You ready to be a big brother?”
Matson’s smile grew wide. “Yep. And I hope it’s a boy.”
I walked my family out the front door and locked it behind us. We hurried toward my car, and I gently settled Sofia inside.
As we pulled out of the driveway, Matson asked from the back seat, “Do you hope it’s a boy too, Ryan?”
I glanced at Sofia, who was breathing a little faster than usual, and squeezing my hand like she wanted to cut off all the circulation in it.
Do I want a boy?
“I don’t know,” I said, answering him honestly.
Of course, I’d thought about it over the past several months, but I’d never come to a firm conclusion in my mind or heart. All I knew was that I wanted a healthy baby with the woman I loved. It was a fucking cliché and everyone said it, but it was the truth.
“Well, I want a little brother. I mean, I’ll be okay if it’s a girl, but I want brothers like you.”
And there it was. Matson wanted to have what he had become familiar with. He wanted brothers just like mine.
I thought about what he said as I navigated the streets as quickly, efficiently, and safely as I could. Sofia moaned once and it almost tore me apart. Her grip on my hand tightened, and I pressed the gas pedal a little harder. Knowing she was in pain wasn’t something I’d ever be okay with, no matter what caused it.
“You know what, though?” I said to Matson. “I always wished that we had a sister too.”
“You did? Like instead of Nick?” he asked, and Sofia and I both laughed.
“No, not instead. I still wanted Nick and Frank, but I wanted a little sister too. I wanted to have someone to protect. And I wanted to be able to beat up the boys who liked her.”
“Really, babe?” Sofia said with a soft smile.
“I can do that if I have a sister? Beat up the boys who like her and not get in trouble?”
Matson sounded a little too excited, and Sofia’s grip on my hand was no longer about the contractions, but a warning about my response.
“Great job,” she whispered from beside me, and I bit back a smile.
It was the truth. I had always wanted that. How did that make me the bad guy? I figured it made me a good potential older brother.
“Maybe,” I said, and Sofia immediately let go of my hand. Apparently, that had been the wrong answer.
“I guess a baby sister won’t be so bad then,” Matson said as I pulled into the hospital’s emergency parking lot. Thankfully, I found an empty spot near the entrance.
I shut off the engine and ran around to Sofia’s door to help her out. I tried to hustle her toward the entrance, but she refused to take another step, almost causing me to trip over my own damn feet.
“Ryan, stop. Matson!” she shouted.
I could have smacked myself. I looked behind us to see Matson struggling to keep up, his mom’s overnight bag half as large as he was.
“Sorry, buddy.” I hurried back and removed the strap from his small shoulder, then slid it over mine.
“It’s okay. You were distracted.”
“It’s not okay,” I said. The last thing I wanted was for Matson to feel replaced or forgotten. He’d already forgiven me, I could tell, but I still wanted to kick myself.
He ran to his mother’s side and reached for her hand. “How are you, Mama?”
“I’m good,” she said, and he beamed up at her like she was his entire world. “How are you?”
“I’m good too.” He dropped her hand and ran toward the doors. “I see Grandma and Papa!”
I kissed the side of Sofia’s head and watched Matson run into his grandpa’s arms, thinking about how this would be his last day as the only child.
“You ready for this?” Sofia asked me with a wicked grin, like she knew something I didn’t.
“You trying to scare me, angel?”
She laughed instead of answering as we walked through the doors, knowing when we walked back out, our lives would be changed forever.
Apple Stem
Sofia
“I’m going to kill you, Ryan,” I screamed through the pain, and I meant it. “I can’t believe I let you do this to me.”
I looked into his stupid perfect face and wanted to hit it. Those blue eyes that I usually loved so much? I now wanted to gouge them out.
Fine. I was being a bit dramatic and I knew it, but you try pushing a bowling ball out of your vagina with no epidural and see how kind and loving you feel.
Why on earth had I wanted to have this baby naturally? It didn’t make me any more or less of a mom to give birth with no pain meds, but for whatever reason, I’d convinced myself that it would be a nice thing to experience.
A nice thing to experience? It was funny how quickly we forgot the pain of childbirth, considering many of us continued to put ourselves in this position over and over again.
“I love you, angel,” Ryan said, his voice so sugary sweet that he was lucky I didn’t puke on his shoes.
“I might love you after this thing is out of me,” I growled, and Ryan laughed.
He actually had the nerve to laugh. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“This isn’t funny, Ryan. You have no idea what this feels like.” Scowling, I squeezed his hand as hard as I could.
“I could never do what you’re doing. I’m not laughing at you, angel. I’m in fucking awe of you.”
I started to cry. Whether it was from his words, the way he was looking at me like I was a goddess, or the intense pain, I couldn’t be sure. But as my tears fell, Ryan wiped them away and kissed my cheek.
