Face Blind

by Len Melvin

  “That’s him. You know, you look like him in the face.” Christina took a step back and gave Beaux a once over. “But I think you’re going to be taller.”

  “My dad was tall. I heard.” Beaux had withdrawn her hand but now embraced Christina in a half hug. “Nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

  “Sorry. Christina. I guess I’m tired. I usually have better manners, but I’ve been on planes all day. It’s not easy to get here.”

  “Here. Have a seat.” Beaux pulled a stool from the bar. “Would you like a drink or something to eat?”

  “Maybe a coffee. It’s been a really long day.”

  Beaux motioned for Mae Helen. “She’ll get you something. “I’ll be right back. We’re just opening.”

  “Take your time. I know how it is. I bartend some in D.C.”

  “The District? Really? I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “I’m afraid you missed your chance. It’s very restricted now.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Okay, I’ll be right back. Mom needs me in the kitchen.” Hey,” Beaux had started toward the kitchen but stopped. “Where is Uncle Simon? Is he coming in?”

  “I doubt it. He texted me and said he’s really busy. Maybe later.”

  “Yeah, he texted me and said something about they were beginning to set the drones up in a defensive position.”

  “That sounds like him.”

  “Okay, I’ll be back. This is Bobby.” Beaux called to Bobby who had just come through the door and was moving slowly towards the bar. “This is Christina. She’s my uncle’s girlfriend.” Beaux didn’t wait for an answer but turned and sprinted toward the kitchen.

  “Your boyfriend is the Secret Service agent?”

  “Yes.”

  Bobby stood at the bar and held a hand in the air trying to get Mae Helen’s attention. “Lordy, I feel sorry for him. And you.”

  Christina laughed and took a sip of the coffee Mae Helen had put in front of her. “Tell me about it.”

  Bobby waved his arm toward the approaching Mae Helen. His arm followed her as she went by him as if he wasn’t there. He snorted out in displeasure and pulled a stool out from the bar and sat heavily on it. “I’d hate to know I had to take a bullet for that bastard.” Christina stifled a giggle. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve been watching the news on TV and I just get so goddamn mad at some of the shit he does.”

  “No worries. You’re preaching to the choir. Don’t think I haven’t said the same thing to my boyfriend.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He told me to be quiet, because someone might hear me.”

  “Well, I’m too old for them to come for me so I can say what I think.”

  Mae Helen stopped in front of Bobby. “What?” she asked, exasperation oozing from her voice. “I’m trying to set up.” Bobby started to say something but was interrupted. “I know, I know,” Mae Helen deadpanned. “The usual and the chess board.” She turned and headed to the end of the bar without waiting for an answer.

  “And the newspaper,” Bobby added.

  “Is that a real cash register?” Christina tilted her coffee cup in the direction of the machine that sat below the mirror behind the bar.

  “Sure is. And it’s fully operational. Lots of people bring cash in just to see it used.”

  “Really?” Christina drew the word out in dramatic fashion. Christina turned in her seat and gazed out over the restaurant. People were beginning to assemble in the doorway waiting for directions on seating. “Does this place do good business?”

  “Sure does. It’s packed most nights. People like the old-style concept and the food is really good.”

  “Is Beaux’s mom the chef?”

  “Yeah. Beaux pretty much works the front of the house and her mom runs the kitchen. Now, her mom can’t pick a man out for nothing, but by God, she can sure pick out a good cut of beef.”

  Mae Helen slapped Bobby with a newspaper as she placed the chess board on the bar. “Don’t be saying stuff about Ms. Maddie.” Mae Helen spilled some of Bobby’s drink on the bar as she tried to set it down. “Damn,” she said, wiping at her skirt.

  Bobby slung alcohol from his hand and then reached for a bar napkin. He pointed at the liquid on the bar. “Do I get a discount?”

  “Hmmmp.” Mae Helen said, and went to another customer without another word.

  Christina edged away from the pool of alcohol on the bar. “Who do you play with?” she asked, indicating the chess board.

  “Beaux normally. Do you play?”

  “Nooo.” Christina leaned back on her stool and wagged a finger back and forth. “I don’t have the patience.”

  Bobby swiped the napkin over the board and then rubbed it off with his sleeve. “Order a drink and get it all over me and the board,” he grumbled.

  “How does she have time to play?”

  “Who?”

  “Beaux. How does she have time to play chess if she’s working?”

  “She doesn’t need time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Bobby began to set the pieces on the board. “She’s got all the matches of the famous grandmasters memorized. And she knows all these goddamned defenses.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. And it’s goddamned annoying.”

  “Sounds like she’s just like her uncle.”

  Bobby held one of the queens in his hand, then paused, studying Christina over the frames of his glasses. “I’m feeling more sorry for you the longer we talk then.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  Christina had another coffee and then ordered a steak and a glass of wine. She relaxed at the bar as Beaux ran the restaurant and played chess with Bobby. Beaux would bolt for the door, greet a customer, seat them, and get them menus and drinks. She would then clean a table, stop in front of Bobby, balancing a full bus tray as she surveyed the board. A command to Bobby to move a certain piece and she was headed for the kitchen. She would come from the kitchen, turning to knock the door open with her backside and then, with three plates in each hand, deliver them to a table. She grabbed a mop from a closet and slung it over a wet area in one of the aisles. She summoned the hostess who then headed to retrieve a warning sign. Beaux went back to the bar, surveyed the board and, wiping a hand across a wet brow, directed another move before she headed back to the kitchen.

  “Goddammit,” Bobby moaned.

  Christ, she’s just like Simon, Christina thought. The work ethic, the attention to detail, the intelligence and the memory.

  “Is that three straight?” she asked. Bobby grunted, his attention still riveted on the board. “How old is she?”

  “Eighteen.” Bobby began to pick the pieces off the table.

  Across the restaurant, Beaux delivered a check to the last table. “She seems older.”

  Beaux returned to the bar and picked a bottle of beer from the cooler. She circled around the bar and, groaning, sank onto the stool next to Christina. “How was the steak?”

  “It was really good. The best I’ve had in a while.”

  “My mom’s really good in the kitchen. Hey,” Beaux stood up quickly, “let me go get her. I want you to meet her. Mom,” Beaux yelled as she headed to the double-doors that led to the kitchen. “Mom.”

  A woman rushed through the doors with a dress draped over one arm. Her head was tilted to one side as she struggled with both hands to unwrap one of the blonde pigtails that lay across each shoulder. “I’ve got to go. I have a date. Can you close up tonight?”

  Beaux grabbed her arm. “Mom, I want you to meet somebody.”

  “Beaux, I’m already late and I have to change clothes and then try to get this barbecue smell off me.”

  “Mom!” Beaux almost yelled.

  Maddie stopped amid an eye roll. “What?”

  “Mom, this is Uncle Simon’s girlfriend,” Beaux said, tugging on her arm. “This is Christina.” She turned to Christina. “And this is my mom, Maddie.”

 
“Oh!” Maddie stepped around Beaux. “Simon’s girlfriend?”

  “Hi.” Christina smiled.

  “You’re so pretty.”

  “Thank you.”

  Maddie extended her hand. “Where is Simon? Is he here? I can’t remember the last time I saw him.”

  Christina took her hand. “He’s here. I’m not sure where, but he’s here.”

  Maddie dropped her hand to her side. “Oh, that’s right. The President’s coming. I forgot all about it, I’ve been so busy.”

  Beaux looked from Maddie to Christina and raised her eyes toward the ceiling as she did. “Mom’s a little self-absorbed.”

  “Oh, please.” Maddie glared at Beaux. “Anyway, nice to meet you,” she continued, taking a step back. “I’ve got a date with a beautiful man tonight and I’m late.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” Christina called after her.

  Maddie took her pigtail apart as she walked to the door. “Nice to meet you,” she said again, without turning around, as she issued a half-wave behind her.

  Beaux let out a heavy sigh. “My mom.”

  Bobby held up an empty glass to Mae Helen. “We still open?” Mae Helen asked Beaux.

  “Yeah. On the house. Would you like another glass of wine, Ms. Christina?”

  Christina tipped her glass back, finishing off the last of the wine in her glass. “One more but that’s it. And only as long as you call me Christina.”

  “Okay, I got this,” she said to Mae Helen. “Take a seat.” Beaux went around the bar, pulled a bottle from a shelf, and poured wine into Christina’s glass. “How long are you here, Christina?”

  “I’m not sure. Simon said he might try to take some time off and hang out down here for a few days. Thanks.” Christina took the glass of wine from Beaux. “He’s been working really hard. I’m worried about him.”

  “Say when.” Beaux grinned and pulled another bottle from behind the bar and put it over Bobby’s glass. Bobby never uttered a word as the liquid came almost to the rim. Finally he held out a hand and Beaux stopped pouring.

  She put the bottle back and stood in front of Christina. “I’m worried too.”

  “What do you mean? Why?”

  “I’m worried about him guarding the President. Do you think you could get him to quit?”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “Like now?”

  Christina paused, her wine glass halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing. Hey, Jackson,” she called to the young boy who was wiping down a table, “can you close all the curtains?” She turned back to Christina. “It’s after-hours so I don’t want the police coming in.”

  “Or the thieves.” Bobby didn’t even look up from his drink.

  “Them, too. Mae Helen, what are you having?”

  Mae Helen took her glasses off and rubbed rheumy eyes. “Bourbon. Neat.”

  “Got it.” Beaux reached for a small brown bottle behind the bar.

  “She gets the good stuff?” Bobby grumbled.

  “Of course.” Mae Helen picked up the newspaper and swatted Bobby on the arm. “I’ve been working hard back there.”

  “Hmmmp.” Bobby grunted and Mae Helen hit him again with the paper.

  “Why did you say ‘now’?” Christina asked, her eyes narrowed on Beaux, a trace of curiosity in her voice.

  “Well,” Beaux began. “It’s just that…” She trailed off.

  “What is it, Beaux?”

  “It’s just that,” Beaux stopped again as her voice trembled. She shifted and pawed at the floor with a foot. Bobby turned from his drink and peered over Mae Helen’s shoulder at Beaux. “It’s just that it’s a dangerous job and I’m worried about him.” Mae Helen laid her hand on Beaux’s forearm. “Everything is so crazy lately.”

  Christina started to say something but a ping from her phone stopped her. She pulled it from her purse. “It’s Simon. He’s back in the room.”

  “Tell him to come here for a drink,” Beaux said.

  Christina typed in the message and waited. She took a sip of her wine and looked at Beaux who was staring at her, a trace of anxiety in the greenish eyes that a packed restaurant and heated chess match hadn’t caused. “You okay?”

  Beaux nodded as a ping came through the phone.

  “He’s exhausted. He says he wants to see you though, Beaux. He’s going to see if he can get some time off after the rally to hang out some with you and your mom.”

  Beaux stared at Christina for a long moment. She exhaled and reached for her beer and took a long swallow. “I hope he has time.”

  ◆◆◆

  Christina placed her index finger in the fingerprint slot of the lock and a click sounded. She opened the door to a darkened room. Moonlight seeped in through an open curtain revealing a silhouette of Simon, slouched in a chair, his back to the door. In one hand he held a highball glass that rattled ice as he moved it to his mouth and then back to the arm of the chair.

  Christina closed the door behind her and locked it. “A little dark in here, isn’t it?”

  “I was thinking.”

  Christina tossed her purse on the bed. “About what?”

  “A lot of things.” Simon set his drink on a table and stood. He wrapped his arms around Christina, stared into her eyes, then drew her against him and kissed her. Then he backed away, took her head in his hands and moved her into the light. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” Christina circled an arm around Simon’s neck, and brought him close. “I didn’t like you being away so long.” She cradled her face into his neck and took a deep breath.

  Simon laughed and moved his head away. “What are you doing?”

  “Smelling you. I even miss the way you smell.”

  “Well, I probably don’t smell that good. I’ve been out in the sun all day.” Simon picked up the glass from the table and sipped on his drink then set it back down. “You probably shouldn’t have come, you know. I’m going to be really busy.”

  “I don’t care. I just wanted to see you and meet your family. And if you can stay a while I’ll call the bar and get someone to work for me.”

  “Okay, we’ll see.”

  “I met your niece. You didn’t tell me what a beautiful, cool girl she is.”

  “I haven’t seen her for a while. We mostly write letters or message each other.”

  “Letters? Really?”

  “Yeah. Funny, huh? We kind of started when she was young and we’ve done it ever since.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

  Simon held Christina close to him, one arm around her waist. The other hand went to his forehead and he scratched it in thought. “Five years. Maybe seven. Christ, has it been that long?”

  “Well, she is a beauty. And smart.”

  “Yeah, she’s always been smart. I haven’t seen a picture of her in a long time, though. She never did social media. She’s kind of private as I remember.”

  Christina put a hand on either side of Simon’s face and drew him to her. She gave him a long kiss and then held his face close to hers. “Well, she is you.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Just what I said. She is exactly like you.” Christina poked him in the chest. “She reminded me exactly of how you are.”

  “How? In what way?”

  “In every way. You have a bottle of water?”

  He stepped back. “Sure. There’s a minibar over there. Under the sink.”

  Christina tapped the flashlight on her phone on and moved slowly across the room. “How come it’s so dark in here?”

  “I told you I was thinking.”

  Christina reached into the minibar and pulled out a small bottle of water. She examined the label in the light from the phone, then twisted the cap off and took a gulp before turning back to face Simon. “It was remarkable, actually.”

  “What?”

  “How much she is like you.”

  “Hmmm.” Simon wen
t to the minibar and poured another scotch and water. “What about my sister? Did you meet her?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “And?”

  “It was brief. She had a date.”

  “Sounds like her. So you just came from the restaurant? It’s kind of late.”

  “We had a drink after closing. And then Beaux and I came here.”

  “She escorted you here? That was nice.”

  “Actually, we escorted each other,” Christina said. “She’s just down the hall.”

  “What?” Simon stopped sipping his drink in mid-swallow.

  “Her boyfriend’s staying here.”

  “Oh, Christ. How old is she?”

  “Eighteen, but she seems older.”

  “I can’t believe she’s that old. Who’s her boyfriend? Why’s he in a hotel?”

  “I think he’s visiting. I didn’t really get into it.”

  “I can’t believe she’s eighteen,” Simon said, his voice lessening in distraction as he turned and crossed the room to the open window. He gazed out for a moment and then dropped a shoulder against the against the window sill with a low moan.

  “Something’s bothering you. Not Beaux, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know. There’s something I can’t put my hands on and that bothers me.”

  “Like what?”

  “It’s a feeling I have. Like there’s something going on. And that worries me.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Beaux got very strange when we began talking about your job. She wanted you to quit now. She was really worried about you.”

  “Well, I can understand that. It is a little dangerous, you know.”

  “No, it was more than that. She suddenly became very nervous. I thought she was going to cry.”

  “Beaux?”

  “Yes. Everything was normal and then we began talking about you and your job and she got really strange. Here, hold this.” Christina handed the bottle of water to Simon and then, with both hands, hoisted herself up onto the window sill. She faced him, her long legs crossed under her and reached for the bottle.

  “When did you start drinking water?”

  “Lately.” She took her bottle from him and rested back against the window frame. “I’ve been with you long enough to know that when something is worrying you, there’s usually a reason.” Simon didn’t reply. “Tell me,” she insisted.