by Andres, Lisa
Chapter 3
Jesse was glad it was the end of a long day. He’d worked hard training all day and he loved it, but, damn, he was exhausted. He walked the few blocks home on the beautiful summer night and just took in the fact that not only did the cool breeze feel nice, but that he could also go home, eat, and relax for the night.
He had an apartment above his family’s bar, Dubicki’s. Dubicki’s was a two-story, red, brick building in northeast Minneapolis. The main floor was the restaurant and bar, and the top floor was a small apartment. His father had used it as a bachelor pad before he’d married Jesse’s mom. After they were married, his dad had always rented it to family or someone he knew. He never had to advertise. It was the ideal bachelor pad. When Jesse was old enough, he took over the residency. It was a spacious enough apartment for two guys who weren’t home a lot and didn’t mind the noise downstairs when they were. That’s why Jesse shared the space with his buddy Carson.
Carson had a dream job to most guys. He designed video games for a living. He spent a lot of time at the office but could work from home when needed. Jesse usually got to try the games before he launched them when there was time, and it was awesome. His latest video game was set 3,000 years in the future and had some awesome features.
As Jesse walked in the door, Carson was at the refrigerator popping the top off a beer bottle.
“Hey, buddy, you want one?”
“I’d love one, but I shouldn’t. I’ve got practice tomorrow and have to hit it hard. A beer or two wouldn’t do me any good in the morning,” Jesse said, walking into the living room.
For being an apartment above a bar, it had a spacious airy feel. A big picture window sat at the front of the living room, which was directly over the front door of the bar. There was some mismatched furniture which the two of them had compiled from their families and neighborhood garage sales. The couch was reminiscent of days gone by that were probably best forgotten. It was grey with various patchwork squares on it. Kelsey had teased them that it was terrible and to return it to the garage sale from which they found it, but they were proud of the find and kept it. It was the right price, and, as far as they were concerned, it added character to the home of two bachelors. It was perfect for them.
“Got it, dude, but you knew I’d ask.” Carson sighed as he followed Jesse and sat down on the couch.
Carson loved beer. To him, it was one of the coolest things about living upstairs from a bar. Since the bar had been Jesse’s family’s business all his life, Jesse couldn’t argue that. His family had this bar for as long as he could remember and then some; some of his best memories as a little boy had to do with the establishment that he was now living upstairs from. His parents had lived there for a short time when they were first married, before they had a family. It contented him knowing so much of his family history was within the confines of that building.
“So, when’s your next night when you can go out and don’t have to get up the next day?” Carson asked him.
“You mean, when do I have a day off?” Jesse said as he playfully tossed a bottle cap at Carson’s head.
“Oww!” Carson rubbed his head where the bottle cap had hit. “Answer the question!”
“I have Saturday off, so I could probably come out and meet you guys Friday. What’s up?”
“Well, Nate, Luke, and I were all talking about going out Friday night. We’re going to hit some clubs and see if we can pick up some women. It wouldn’t hurt to have your pretty face around, Dubicki.”
Jesse was not the tallest man, but what he didn’t have in height he made up for in muscle, which translated to width. He was built like a wrestler because that’s pretty much what he was. He had dark brown hair shaved close to his head except on the top; he always put enough product in it to make it look a bit stylish on top. He might be in the ring a lot of the time, but he still wanted to look as nice as he could, all things considered. He’d been blessed in inheriting the dark, olive skin tone of his half-Greek mother. That meant he didn’t have to go get spray tans like a lot of the other fighters he loved to tease endlessly about their girly tans. His brown eyes had an almond shape to them, and his face was framed with a square jaw. Once, his nose had been perfect. That was a long time ago. He knew now when he saw a fighter with a perfect nose in the ring that he was a rookie. Or a pussy.
“If Pablo is cool with it, then I will go out with you guys. Why not?”
“Yeah, how long has it been since you had some pussy?” Carson said with a chuckle in his tone.
Jesse just shook his head at him in mock disgust. The only serious girlfriend Jesse had ever had was his high school sweetheart, Haley. They’d been together for nearly four years when her family moved out of state right after high school graduation, taking Haley with them. They’d been so in love, and the move devastated him. What hurt the most was that when they left Haley was legally an adult and could have stayed. He begged her to stay, and one day she was just gone. She didn’t even say goodbye. It had taken him a long time to get over it, and since then he rarely returned the interest that women seemed to express for him. Both of his parents were gone, and he’d had enough loss.
Now, with the intensity of his training schedule, he really didn’t have room in his life for a woman. He was still human and missed a woman’s touch. Sometimes he missed the companionship of a woman, and, of course, the sex didn’t hurt either. He’d had some women that were interested in him; that went with the territory of being a fighter. He just hadn’t found anyone yet that was worth thinking about getting involved again. The other fighters liked their groupies; Jesse thought most of them were skanky. The women that approached him seemed so shallow. It made him doubt any good women were left out there. He wanted someone real, a girl that had depth to her or maybe even a shred of mystery. So many women now were way too transparent. He was all for confident, independent women. He just thought some of them talked too much from the get-go, and he believed that some things should be left to the imagination. The last girl he’d talked with when he was at Dubicki’s unloaded all of her problems on him, including her last visit to her gynecologist. No, thank you. Women like that made him appreciate the fact that he was single.
Jesse’s life in and out of gyms and the fighting ring kept him busy enough that he luckily didn’t have too much time to think about a relationship. That didn’t stop his buddies from giving him grief about it, though. When they were in between girlfriends, they had no problems with casual hook-ups. It’s not that he’d never tried that. There had been a time or two when he’d hooked up. That’s how he came to the conclusion that such behavior was not for him. Someday he’d like to settle down. He just wondered if he ever would find someone he’d want to settle down with.
His stomach started to feel hollow. Just like good bachelors, they had no real food in the house.
“Want to order a pizza?” Jesse asked.
“Yeah, great idea,” Carson said sarcastically. “I was just thinking I was so hungry I could chew my arm off.”
Jesse laughed, “Okay, smartass.”
When the pizza arrived, they sat down and plotted the plan for Friday night. Jesse gave in and had one beer and mindlessly let himself relax for the rest of the night.
Chapter 4
Carissa tried to negotiate with the tension in her mid-section. She was nervous. She hadn’t been out in a long time. She’d only worked a partial day which had provided the afternoon for her to go last-minute shopping for the perfect outfit.
She’d hit the mall running and found herself a nice outfit at a store that had provided her a girly, but not too girly, outfit to wear that night. She savored her new clothes. It was a rare indulgence she figured was well-deserved. She bought most of her things at thrift shops to save money. She had promised herself she’d always have a savings account that would ensure she’d never have to feel desperate again, and shopping for bargains helped her do that.
She got dressed and looked at her appearance in her
full-length mirror behind her bedroom door. She was petite at barely five feet tall with a waif-like figure to match her small frame. Her skinny features and healthy bust line were courtesy of her mother, the model. The only thing Carissa didn’t seem to get was the height that went with it. When she was young, a few of the kids used to say she looked like a fairy and laughed, but it didn’t bother her too much. She’d been called far worse at home.
Carissa admired her profile in her new skinny jeans. She’d always wanted a pair, and she liked the dark-wash indigo jeans that cost a little more than she had planned but were a great splurge if she did say so herself. She had on a purple top made from a fabric just light enough for summer and a new pair of heels. It was summer and most people wore sandals, but unless it was a casual pair of flip flops, she hated showing her feet. Being the daughter of a model meant she’d been wearing heels since she was young (her mom may not have been present, but that didn’t stop her from trying on all of the model heels and clothes that little Carissa had been able to get on while her mother was passed out in the next room). She had on a pair of five-inch platform heels. They had the prettiest mesh scallop around the edge, and she loved them. She never understood why other women complained about heels. She loved them and would live in them if her job at the nursing home would accommodate it. She liked feeling taller and liked feeling pretty. Somehow heels made her feel pretty. Sadly, she didn’t get much of a chance to wear her beloved heels, so she was glad to have the opportunity to get out there and wear some that night.
She tucked her clutch purse under her arm, applied one last gloss over her lips with her lipstick, and was on her way over to Dana’s. Hopefully they’d’ have a fun night.
An hour later, they were making their way down one of the streets in northeast Minneapolis that had bars interspersed with residential houses for blocks. It was off the main road and almost seemed charming. You could walk down tree-lined streets and just happen into a pub for a quick lunch and a pint. It was something that used to be a well-kept secret of the locals but by then was well-known enough to have people drive in just to pub hop on the weekends. They preferred this to the busy clubs of the inner city because it was a bit more authentic than the clubs in the city that were primarily meat markets. These bars had as many locals from the neighborhood as people of all ages that were just here for a few hours.
Carissa and Dana opened the door to Maisie’s, one of the popular restaurant bars and spotted the others at a table. They slid into a booth with two of Dana’s other friends that were already there. They greeted Melissa and Carrie and all made small talk before they ordered roast beef sandwiches (this place had some of the best in town) and drinks. There was a trendy band playing that night, which meant that there was a younger crowd. Usually when they went out now, it involved live music in some way. If there was a hot guitar player for Dana to flirt with, Dana was happy. She was hell bent on having another fling with a musician, even if he wasn’t a guitar player.
Dana and Carissa had so many things in common, yet they were so different. They both had difficult childhoods which connected them and gave them a shared cynicism toward the human race. That said, Dana was the one that still would put herself out there from time to time in the name of fun or just trying something different. One time, Dana had thought it would be fun to go skydiving. Dana had tried in earnest to convince Carissa to go, but no amount of threatening, bribing, or convincing could get Carissa to willingly jump out of a plane. She’d fought hard enough for her life without wanting to deliberately endanger it.
It took about five minutes for Dana to excuse herself and wander over to the room where the band was setting up. Figures.
“So, Carissa, how are things at the hospice?” asked Carrie in a rather smarmy fashion. Carrie was one of Dana’s childhood friends; they’d known each other since kindergarten. Carrie had always been one of the mean girls. In high school, she’d gone on to become homecoming queen. Isn’t that what most mean girls did?
“It’s going well. I’m glad to be of help to people and that helps me actually enjoy my days caring for people who are dying.”
“That’s really great. How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?”
Carrie’s friend, Melissa, looked down and bit her lip in mild embarrassment. Carrie just looked at Melissa indignantly. “What’s your problem? Can’t I ask her a question?”
“Well, I guess I just don’t really have time to date. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it,” Carissa said, starting to wonder if this was really a good idea. She had forgotten how much she hated Carrie. One would have thought she’d matured since high school. Apparently not.
“Maybe we should work on seeing if we could at least get a guy to ask you to dance tonight,” said Carrie.
“Yeah, maybe.”
What a bitch. Carissa felt the heat creep up her neck as her face flushed in embarrassment. Sometimes she just wanted to smack Carrie. This might be a long night.
***
Jesse’s friends Carson, Luke, and Nate had agreed to go ahead to the bar without him. Jesse was having a long day of practice and didn’t want to hold up the guys from going out. He was going to meet them later at Dubicki’s. Not a bad plan since that required not having to worry about a sober cab.
Jesse had been having difficulty getting down some of his new training techniques. He found some of the movement sequences and strategies he was being taught felt more to him like ballet than fighting. The only complaining he did about it was internal, though. He was training hard to meet what had been his ultimate goal for the last two years: defeating Velasquez. That meant doing what he was told and learning how to perfect the movements. His drive to win meant more than anything else in the long run. The movements that felt like ballet to him probably felt awkward because he was just such a big guy. They were meant to even the playing field with opponents with different strategies and overall build than he had.
He felt bad after he’d promised the guys that he would be there that evening, but they understood why he was so dedicated to his fighting and agreed that they’d meet him later. He’d be happy to blow off some steam when his training was over.
Two hours and many groans of frustration later, he was done. It was nearly 10 p.m. by the time he got cleaned up and got out of the gym. Thank goodness the long day of training was over. He’d see his friends, have some laughs, and hopefully see some of his family, too, while he was at it. He may have lived over the bar his family owned, but he was at the gym so much he had little time to stop in and chat with them.
***
Carissa groaned. If one more jackass of a guy approached her with a bad pick-up line or offered her a shot again, she’d scream. It was nice to be noticed but annoying when it turned out to just be a bunch of Neanderthals that wanted to get laid. She knew better than to try to pick guys up at a bar, but that didn’t mean that they would stop trying.
Carrie and Melissa had been chatting up two guys in the corner that said they were stockbrokers. It had quickly gotten uncomfortable when they’d approached a little while before, and Carissa had left when she felt that she was the third wheel. She was happy to be alone since Dana was already sitting on the lap of the band’s guitar player. They’d been playing for two hours, and Dana was progressively getting more drunk and touchy-feely with him.
Carrie and Melissa walked by with their two apparent hook-ups for the evening and announced that they were going down the street to Dubicki’s. Carissa nodded her acknowledgement. Despite the annoyance of strange men approaching her, she wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. She made her way over to Dana and asked her to if she wanted to go together to Dubicki’s. When Dana protested so she could sit there and watch the guitar player and play touchy-feely with him in between sets, Carissa pulled the “you begged me to come out with you” card, which worked in her favor. The guitar player agreed that he’d meet Dana down at Dubicki’s after the band’s last set.
When Carissa stepped ou
tside, she realized it was a nice night. She turned her head up to the sky and admired the stars and the moon. She thought of the beauty of the sky at night. Dusk and the evening settling in had always been her favorite time of day. She had always thought it had been because she’d been born at night. So many people thought bad things happened at night, but not Carissa. She thought it was a beautiful, magical time.
She was glad they were going to stay out. Dana came out of Maisie’s and joined arms with her. Together they skipped up the street like they were kids until Carissa almost lost her footing in her high heels.
“I have to admit, Carissa, I did not want to pull myself away from Kyle, but I’m proud that you want to stay out and have a good time. Lucky for me, Kyle didn’t seem to mind, so let’s go have some fun.”
“Is Kyle the guitar player of the evening?”
“Yes, I really like him,” Dana smiled, hope in her eyes.
Carissa knew someone at work who played out in a well-known local band. The girl loved to tell stories of her band moments. After she had told Carissa about an experience of dating a musician and showing up to his gig to surprise him only to find he had another date, she’d learned that male musicians seemed to think they had a proprietary right to date several women at one time. Carissa hoped Kyle wasn’t one of them but didn’t want to say anything to bring Dana’s high to an end right then. They were having too much fun.
They continued their walk to Dubicki’s with Dana gushing about her new romantic possibilities with Kyle. They both arrived at the bar a few blocks later. Perhaps it was due to Dana’s happiness, but Carissa had a renewed sense of optimism and wondered what magic the night might bring.
Chapter 5
Jesse walked into Dubicki’s and deeply breathed in the smell that was his second home. It might be a strange thing to say about a bar, but he remembered being in that place even as a baby. His dziadek had run the place then, and his father had been the bar manager. Dziadek was the polish word for grandfather. His grandfather had emigrated there from Poland as a young boy and spoke a mix of both the Polish and English languages. Jesse loved his dziadek; he’d always had a smile on his face and some way of delighting the little boy in him years ago. Dziadek used to tell the best stories. He had such charisma and always made the locals laugh. It was something Jesse admired about him to that day.
