Volunteering Your Heart

by Lo'Ren A Mayler

  It was only a two-block walk. The sound of her heels clicking on cement slabs, the trees rustling in the breeze, not even the cars that passed up the busy street could distract her. After exiting the lobby, she walked to the end of the block and make a left onto Main Street. Her nerves kicked up and her hands shook as she neared the establishment. You are tall, blonde and beautiful. She repeated this mantra until her mind cleared enough to open the door. They had not discussed where to meet, once inside the tavern, ahead of time and Samantha was early. The bar seemed as good a place as any to wait. Wendy will find me right away. First thing to do in a bar is get a drink, right?

  Pub and Pizza, the sign broadcasted. No way was she eating bar food, no matter how good the reviews were. Even if the food tasted good, you never knew how clean the kitchen was. Did they wear gloves to prepare the food? Keep the oven clean? Fresh oil in the fryer. The thought of French fries from a bar threatened to make her sick again. She had already eaten a sensible dinner and only planned on a couple drinks.

  As she passed through the threshold, her attention first went to the television sitting above a couple slot machines. Tables sat against either side of the space, causing people to walk down the middle aisle. Assorted sports related pictures lined the walls, with a Neon “HOOPS” sign hanging in the middle. The large oak bar, located at the end of the walkway, had shelves up to the ceiling behind it. At the moment, the bartender was standing on the counter, presumably looking for something on the shelf. It wasn’t a dark place and definitely more of a hangout than a club. The bar was about half full. The clientele were everyday Joes, blue collar. Of course, that was true of most any watering hole within a two-hour drive.

  As always, heads turned when she walked by. All but one. A woman with her back to the door. The only feature that was visible was the black curly Mohawk. Sam didn’t allow her eyes to stray further. Nor did she turn to see the woman’s face once she passed the table, but there was a draw. A definite presence to her. She always felt the room’s eyes on her, something she had gotten accustomed to over the years. Yet, she found herself wondering if the woman noticed her. She wasn’t normally hyper aware of any one particular person in the room, unless he was a creep. Maybe she was curious because the woman wasn’t interested.

  When Sam asked for a menu, the bartender brought back a plastic laminate pizza menu. Immediately her eyes were drawn to the pink stain on the corner. More than likely it was sticky. A product of too many drinks, coupled with being bumped by strangers. Placing the item in front of the neighboring seat once she realized there was no list of custom beverages. Which meant each bartender would make drinks in a different way. Great. My tonic will either be watered down or too strong. Sam’s experience told her the latter was more likely.

  “Oh man, forget the brunette,” Mike sputtered after practically choking on his beer. Jaky turned to see who he was talking about, but the blonde had already passed their table. All Jak could see from her vantage point was the very nicely shaped posterior as she made her way to the bar.

  “Dibbs!” Mike called before Jaky could registered that he was getting up to approach the woman.

  “Hey,” she said grabbing his arm.

  “What? You heard me, Dibbs.”

  “Not that dummy. At least let the woman sit down.” Geez. “I swear, what is the point of going out every week if you never learn anything?”

  “I was gonna offer to buy the drink,” sounding confused as to what he was doing wrong. As if she was the one not making sense. “What, you want me to wait for someone else to get there first?”

  “Fine, do what you want, but I’m not rushing to your aid. If you strike out, she is fair game.” Jak wasn’t even sure why she said that. It had always been the rule. How was it possible to feel a pull towards this woman? Could she be interested in someone she hadn’t even seen yet? It was ridiculous, but she hadn’t been able to look away since she laid eyes on the blonde.

  “I’m gonna do it anyway. I can’t let that one get away.”

  Mike got up and straightened his shirt. His stride a little too hurried to appear casual. As he neared, another man sat down next to the target. Accepting defeat, for the moment, Mike detoured to the end of the bar to await an opportunity to interrupt.

  Jak watched as the man struck out and left looking crushed. Donna, the bartender, delivered some sort of mixed drink and moved on to the next customer. Luckily, Donna hadn’t seen what Jak did. The blonde took a sip and clearly spit it back into the glass. Experience told her that Donna had made it too strong, so you get your money’s worth. She didn’t get, some people don’t only want to taste booze.

  She stayed glued to her seat, observing the woman for the next hour. Every once in a while, someone threw their hat in the ring. Then ceremoniously walked away, just as all the suitors before them. At the moment, a short red head decided to try her hand. The woman turned her head away from Jak’s view and asked Red a question. It was the first time there had been any response, other than a polite no. Jak was beyond curious. Nearly ravenous for any detail to the conversations that were beyond her reach. Red seemed to be silently celebrating. A twinkle visible in her eyes, even from Jak’s distant view.

  Thankfully, the joy in Red’s face was short lived. Whatever the answer to the last question was, evidently, it was not the right one and Red was sent packing. Each time someone was turned down, Jak got more and more absorbed in the show. What was it that she missed? Why had the entire room taken a liking to this woman? She had never seen anything like it.

  Like the crowd, she was held captive by her curiosity. Watching the subtle changes in the woman’s demeanor every time a man had the nerve to sit beside her. Anyone paying attention would see she was leaning away from their imposing frames. That her shoulders stiffened, her spine became more rigid. Undoubtedly, she was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. So why did they continue? More importantly, why did she let Mike face the window?

  Mike still sat at the end of the bar, drink in hand, just as she was. As time passed, she started to wonder if he had lost his nerve. When he finally got up, it started another wave of questions. Could he hear the responses given before? Did he think he had the right answer? She couldn’t conceive of an answer to any of the questions that flashed through her mind.

  Where the hell is Wendy? The drink is horribly strong, as predicted. The men here seem to think they own everyone that walks in. The stream of offers would have been better on her bruised ego if it was a gay bar. Sam felt the brush of a shoulder as someone approached her, again. Would it never end? A short thin woman with flaming red hair ordered a drink.

  “Is this seat taken?” she asked, indicating the one next to Sam.

  Instead of answering, she gestured at the seat.

  “I’m Arin.”

  “Samantha.”

  “Are you new in town?”

  How unoriginal. “I’m sorry. You’re not here getting information for any of the men in this room, are you?”

  Arin reached over and slid one finger along Sam’s forearm.

  “Definitely not.”

  That’s a start. She was cute enough and Sam loved the idea of a fiery red head. On the other hand, she was small enough to fit in Sam’s pocket. “Are you a teacher?’

  “No,” the woman seemed to know to give a short answer. As if this was a questionnaire. A prequel to an interview.

  “Do you play or coach softball?”

  She lit up, thinking she had found something to connect them. “Yea, I actually play every weekend.”

  Sam moved slightly away from her. Fearful she might get pulled into the enthusiasm for a world she wished to forget, “I’m not interested. Sorry for wasting your time.”

  Of course, she plays softball. Why wouldn’t she? How many girls do you have to go through until you realize, they all play fricken softball? Sam was no longer looking at her but heard the moment the seat was vacated. Probably the only lesbian in the place, what a waste. If I’m stuck in thi
s dive for another hour, I might as well have something strong. Sam downed her drink and ordered another. Hoping the strong taste would dull the more she drank.

  Finally, seeming to find the courage, Mike moved over a few seats. Yea she said no to the last ten people, but you’re gonna be the one…Ha! At least now Jak could nearly see a side profile of the face. Not that she could get a good look from this distance. Nose, lips, an eye, but it wasn’t enough to make a decision on.

  The longer her friend sat there, the more agitated Jak became. What could he be telling her? Since when does any woman, especially a beautiful one, give Mike the time of day? After what felt like an eternity, he hugged her and walked away. A hug, not a slap? Her mind felt like there was a hairline crack in reality. Had she fallen asleep? Was this a dream? Or perhaps she had entered an alternate universe. One where Mike could close the deal. Where a beautiful woman didn’t think twice about giving him her number. She could find no other explanation to what her eyes told her to be true.

  Mike was walking on air as he made his way back.

  “Take long enough?” Jak tried to sound nonchalant but on the inside, she was dying for an explanation as to what had just transpired.

  “What? There was a long line. Oh, but it was worth it.” Mike said with a dreamy look in his eyes.

  “What did she say? What did you talk about? What’s her name?” She tried to keep the foam from bubbling out.

  “She cut me off before I said anything and told me she isn’t interested. Then I let her vent about not getting a moment to herself. I never got her name.” What?

  “Why are you smiling so much if you struck out?”

  “You have to meet her to know. It’s like meeting a movie star. Even though you don’t stand a chance, it was nice to just talk to her. And her rack is so huge! Totally worth it.”

  “You’re hopeless.” It didn’t explain the hug. If she was as amazing as Mike said and beyond irritated at the abundance of male egos in the room, why a hug? The only explanation her mind could summon was that the embrace was actually an apology for taking out her frustration on him.

  He nudged her side, “You gotta go too.”

  “Why, I don’t need to be rejected by a movie star.” Jak finally forced her view to the, long since empty, drink in front of her. Though it had felt impossible to tear her gaze from the show that continued after her friend had joined her.

  “Oh, come on. You gotta,” he whined. “I would finally get to see you strike out.” Mike continued to goad her on, “Tell you what… I’ll buy the rest of the night if you go up there.”

  “That’s all I have to do, talk to her?” At least then she would see what all the fuss was about, with her dignity intact.

  “No. You have to try, just like the rest of us.”

  Jak starred back at the blonde.

  With all the curiosity swirling about in her mind, she still hesitated. To see the face, to solve the riddle. Was it worth it? She was already concerned for the woman’s sanity. Anyone that hugged Mike after talking to him in a bar must have deep seeded mental issues. Heck, embracing him anywhere suggested a need for a psychological exam.

  “Is she really all that?” She asked skeptically.

  Mike ran his finger across his chest, “Cross my heart.”

  Jaky held up a finger to the bartender and sat three seats away from the blonde. Listening as the woman rejected yet another person with a polite “I’m not interested.” The male was standing between them. Jak turned to get a glimpse of the woman, but she didn’t even bother to look at the guy she was rejecting. What do you got to do to get a look at her face? Jak motioned the bartender to lean in.

  Gesturing with her head she asked, “What’s the deal?”

  “Don’t think guys are her cup of tea,” Donna whispered.

  “And Red?”

  “Guess she’s picky,” the bartender shrugged and went to the next patron. Jaky almost felt bad hitting on her. The poor woman had been bombarded since she walked in. On the other hand, free drinks. Here goes.

  “Do you mind if I scoot over?”

  Jak nearly dropped her beer when the woman finally turned. She had thought all the fuss was about her body. In reality, it was a bonus. Dazzling blue eyes, long luxurious golden locks. The nose was perfectly straight, her jaw soft.

  The woman didn’t hesitate in her response, “That depends.”

  Her voice was high, delicate and unequivocally sweet.

  “On?” Jak raised a brow as the challenge turned into a game, one she found extremely fun.

  “Do you teach?” The woman asked as her long slender fingers played with her drink. Running along the edge, drawing circles in the condensation, causing beads of sweat to soak her bar napkin.

  “No.”

  “Do you play softball?”

  “Never.” Not taking the time to think her answers over. She would know immediately if it was wrong.

  “Do you coach?”

  “Hard to coach something you’ve never played.”

  “That isn’t an answer and it is possible. I should know,” the woman said as if to pat herself on the back.

  “No. I don’t coach any sport, of any kind.”

  “Last question…”

  Feeling confident, Jak waited. She knew this was make or break. Whatever the answer was, it would determine the direction of her night.

  “What do you do?”

  “Other than women?” She didn’t laugh or respond. There was no visible way of discerning what the blonde’s reaction was. She felt caught in a snare. Clearly, she would not be deterred. Refusing to talk about anything else until the question was answered. “I’m a firefighter.”

  She must have passed because the woman pat the seat beside her.

  “My turn,” Jak said as she settled, victoriously, into her new stool. Proud of herself for getting further than anyone else.

  “Let’s have it,” appearing amused that the game had been flipped. As if any person with a pulse would say no for a wrong answer. Jaky thought for a moment, trying to find a question to ask. Normally not a hard task, except, the more the woman looked at her, the more Jak’s brain turned to mush.

  Taking a long drag of her beer, so her voice didn’t break, “What do you do?”

  “I teach, English.”

  While the woman was perfectly poised and her speech a little formal, the answer surprised her.

  “So, you used to coach, you don’t like softball players or coaches and you don’t like fellow teachers. Hmm. Well, I really only have one question for you.”

  Amusement gathered on the beautiful face. At last, a glimmer of hope. She knew she had given the right answers, not being dismissed her only proof. Even so, she had never had an interaction where she did not have control of the conversation. This woman held her at arm’s length. Clearly, she was not easily swayed. This slight change in her seemed monumental.

  “Guess you think you have me all figured out. So, what is your question? Let me guess. Based on my night… Did I fall from heaven? You lost your phone number; can you have mine? Oh, my favorite so far…Your buddies bet you that you couldn’t land the hottest girl in the bar and you want to know if you can buy me a drink with their money.”

  Jaky smiled as she whispered in the woman’s ear, “What’s your name?”

  “Samantha,” was whispered back like a secret.

  “Nice to meet you Samantha. This doesn’t look like your kind of place. Are you meeting someone?”

  “Well I was,” her eyes shifted towards her wristwatch, “an hour ago.”

  “Your date must be an idiot. You should ditch her,” Jak’s eyes were dancing with mischief.

  “She is a coworker.”

  “Ah, another piece to the puzzle. So, are you turning everyone away because you’re taken or because they are too stupid to read the flashing neon “Get Lost” sign hanging above your head?”

  Samantha finally smiled and seemed to look at her for the first time. Blue eyes raki
ng over her body. Jak felt like she was being tested again. Being appraised.

  “I’m single.”

  The words were barely spoken. Mouthed really. It was a dirty trick to get a girl to look at your lips and Jak fell right into it. Full, perfectly pink lips. The kind you couldn’t help but dream of. Bright, drop dead gorgeous and sensual. Does she have any flaws? Summoning all her willpower, Jak looked back into the sparkling blue of Sam’s eyes.

  “I’m Jak.”

  III

  How did this happen? She wasn’t sure how they ended up here. Sam had a couple more of the bartender’s super tonics and Jak was a smooth talker. Conversing with Jak had been so easy. She wouldn’t lie and say it was like they were old friends. There was an ever-present anticipation, per body emitting a gentle hum of excitement, that came with finding someone new. Plus, it came with a few bonuses. Such as keeping the general public away from her. It was more than simply enjoying the attention though. Jak had a way of making her smile from the inside out. Their lighthearted conversation mixed with a touch of secreted seduction. She thought perhaps Jak was even better at this game than she was. Well, maybe not better, but definitely well versed.

  At some point they had decided to leave the bar and ended up by Jak’s truck, two blocks away in a commuter lot. A dark gray, virtually black, beast of a truck with a light bar on top and fire memorial plates. Sam didn’t know if it was raised up or if the tires were just enormous. There was a mechanism covering the grill, a push bumper of some kind with a tow cable, making it look like the truck was baring its teeth.

  It was dark out and, unless a car drove by, they seemed to be in a secluded spot, tucked away between a building and the truck. It was hard to see Jak clearly, but Sam could remember every detail, long dark fingers on strong hands, broad muscular shoulders and a short Mohawk of thick black curls. Jak’s skin looked like a milk chocolate bar with strawberry lips, Sam couldn’t help wanting a bite.