by Lucy Evanson
As it turned out, things had suffered a bit in the days since Christmas Eve. The fresh snow that had blanketed the town that night had been trampled long ago, and more than anything else, the street was wet, cold and muddy. It didn’t help that she was walking alone, and she felt a sharp pang as she remembered how nice it had been at Nathan’s side, her arm in his. Can’t imagine we’ll be doing that again anytime soon.
When she passed Sally’s tavern, Cora hardly tossed a glance through the window. There was a time when she would have been in there instead of walking alone to an empty apartment, and it occurred to her that this was the first New Year’s that she could remember that she hadn’t spent inside a bar. She missed it in a way—the laughter and music sure sounded better than what was waiting for her at home—but then again things had changed a lot in the past few months. She continued on.
Behind her, the music got louder for a moment along with the sharp squeak of the door as it opened. There was the thump of hurried footsteps on the sidewalk planks, and then a gruff voice shot out.
“Cora.”
Drake. Even wrapped in warm velvet, a chill shot through her, and she cursed herself for walking alone at night. She slowly turned and immediately felt a wave of relief wash through her body.
“Willie Black,” she said. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“It’s been too long,” he said, coming close. He reached down and squeezed her hand. “I saw you pass by Sally’s and I thought I’d invite you in for a drink.”
She drew her hand back underneath her cloak. “I don’t think so, Willie,” she said. “Thanks anyway, but I should be getting on home.”
“You’re going home already? On New Year’s Eve? Why don’t you come in and have just one drink. You know, for old times’ sake.”
A burst of loud music spilled into the street as another man exited Sally’s and headed unsteadily home.
“Just one drink,” Willie said.
“Well…I guess one won’t hurt.”
“That’s my girl.” He dropped his arm behind her back, gently pulling her along toward the tavern.
It had been so long since she’d been in a bar that everything almost seemed new again. The piano was loud and lively, and the room was filled with music, laughter and excited conversation. It was warm and bright there, and everywhere she looked people were enjoying themselves.
“Right over here,” Willie said, steering her to a table against the wall and waving to the waitress. “Are you hungry?”
“No, I just had dinner.”
“Good,” Willie said. “More time for drinking, then.” He turned to the waitress as she arrived. “Give me a beer and a whiskey. And the same for her,” he said.
“I don’t want whiskey,” Cora said. “I’ll just have a beer.”
“Two beers and two whiskeys,” Willie said before he shooed the waitress away. “You have to have a shot with me,” he said. “It’s New Year’s Eve, after all.”
“Well, maybe just one,” Cora said. “How long has it been since I’ve seen you?”
He leaned back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “It must be about eight months,” he said. “I’ve been traveling all over lately. All the big cities—Chicago, New York, even had a trip out to San Francisco.”
“You’ve been to California? How nice!” she said. “What’s it like?”
“It was terrific,” he said. “You would love it out there. It’s a beautiful place, that’s for sure. But still, all the while I’ve been traveling, I was thinking about you the whole time.” He put his hand over hers for a moment, lingering there until the waitress returned with their drinks.
“Happy New Year,” he said, lifting his whiskey.
They clinked glasses and Cora took a little sip, letting the familiar burn fill her mouth and slip down her throat. Willie drained his glass and slammed it down hard onto the table, then shivered with a grin and took a long drink of beer. “So what have you been up to since I saw you last?”
“Oh, pretty much the same,” she said. “But I’m married now.”
He burst out laughing. “Married? You?”
She felt her cheeks grow warm. “Yes, I am,” she said. “For about two months already.”
He fell quiet and she watched his gaze fall to her ringless hand. “So what kind of man lets his wife go out by herself on New Year’s Eve?”
“He doesn’t know.”
Willie’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I get it,” he said, and his grin spread wide.
“No, I mean he’s working right now,” she said.
Willie didn’t say a word; he just nodded and turned away slightly to watch the piano player. Cora took a sip of beer and looked around. Seated at the bar, but with his stool turned so that he was looking out into the room, there was thin young man with a wispy mustache. When their eyes met, he smiled and nodded at her as if he knew her.
Cora smiled briefly and then turned her attention to the other customers. When she’d first entered the saloon, it had seemed like the place had been filled with nothing but happy people laughing and joking with each other. After taking a closer look, however, she saw that there were as many people drinking alone as not, and they didn’t seem to be having quite as merry a time of it. There was a haze of tobacco smoke that had begun to sting her eyes, and the entire place reeked of spilled beer and damp wooden floorboards. Funny how I never noticed that before, she thought.
“Evening, Cora,” she heard somebody say, and she and Willie both turned to see that the man with the thin mustache had approached from the bar.
“Move along,” Willie growled, though the man didn’t take his eyes off Cora.
“Why don’t you come over and have a drink with me?” the man asked.
“She’s here with me,” Willie said. “Now, get.” He shoved his chair back sharply and stood up.
“Take a seat, friend. How about we let her decide?”
“How about I take you around back and teach you a lesson?”
Cora could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. At the surrounding tables, several people had suspended their conversations and turned to watch what was happening.
“Willie, sit down,” she said. “And you,” she added, turning to the other, “go on back to the bar. I don’t want you two fighting over me.”
“Told you she was with me,” Willie said, letting himself drop back down into his seat.
The other man snorted. “Cora, when you change your mind, I’ll be right over there,” he said, then turned and made his way back to the bar.
What am I doing? Though she had managed to avoid a fight taking place right in front of her, Cora and Willie were still attracting the gazes of the other customers, as if they’d felt cheated by missing out on some additional entertainment.
“I hate how everyone’s staring at us,” she muttered, taking another sip of whiskey.
“Let ‘em stare,” Willie said. “I don’t care. You have another drink and you won’t care either.” He waved to the waitress, who started over to their table.
“I’m not having another one,” Cora said as she stood up. “I need to get home now. I’ve had enough for one night.”
“Sit your ass down,” Willie said, and he roughly pulled her by the arm, forcing her back into her seat.
“What can I get for you?” the waitress asked.
“Two more whiskeys,” Willie said. “And tell that bartender to pour a decent shot this time.”
“I told you, I’m not having one,” Cora said when the waitress had returned to the bar. “I’m going home.”
“What you’re going to do is sit here with me, have some drinks and enjoy the music,” Willie snapped. “And you’re going to keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it. Just like old times.”
Cora gathered her cloak around her and stood up again, but Willie also shot to his feet and grabbed her arm. “I told you, sit down.”
“Let go of me,” she hissed. Their audience had grown much larger t
han the few tables surrounding them now; nearly every eye in the place was on them and even the piano player had turned to watch. The bar had gone silent.
Willie looked around the bar and then slowly let her out of his grasp. “Get out of here,” he snarled. “You’re filthy.”
Cora quickly made her way to the door and stepped outside, pulling up her hood as she started off into the night and dreading the sound of the door opening behind her. Fortunately, nobody came after her and she was able to get home in only a few minutes, though she didn’t feel entirely safe until she had closed and locked the door behind her.
As she hung up her cloak she noticed that it had picked up the smell of tobacco smoke from the saloon. Just lovely. But if that’s the worst that happened, I’ll count myself lucky. She went to her room and undressed quickly, then washed up and changed into her nightgown before heading to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. As she passed Nathan’s room, she couldn’t help seeing the small box on top of his bureau. After she had refused the bracelet, he had left it in plain sight there, as if to remind himself of it.
While she waited for the water to boil, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from bubbling around inside her mind as well. So stupid. What if Drake had seen me there? The thought made her stomach clench—though she hadn’t noticed Drake in the saloon, she couldn’t say for sure that he wasn’t there. It wouldn’t be proof that anything was wrong, but it would be damn strong—what did they call it? Circumstantial evidence.
When the kettle began to whistle, she removed it from the burner and poured water over a few tea leaves she had tossed into a cup. Cora went to the kitchen table and sat down, watching the leaves unfurl as they lazily drifted around. She glanced up at the clock. It wasn’t even eleven yet; Nathan probably wouldn’t be home for hours.
She stood and went into his room, taking the jewelry box from his bureau and returning to the kitchen. The bracelet was as beautiful as she remembered, and the silver caught the light of the lamp, making the metal look warmer than it felt when she slipped it on. Just as she had guessed it would, the bracelet looked terrific; it seemed like it had been made just for her wrist.
She ran her fingers over the metal as she stared at it. I refused this and hurt Nathan, then went to the saloon with Willie and thought nothing of it. Not my best decisions ever. But maybe I can still make this right.
Cora brought the lantern to the sitting room and sat down on the couch. When Nathan got home, she would talk to him and explain everything and things might finally get back to normal. Living like this was exhausting enough without adding more stress to the mix.
Hours must have passed by the time she realized that Nathan was standing there. She blinked several times; she didn’t remember falling asleep, but she clearly had done so. She hadn’t even heard Nathan come in, but in the dying lamplight she could see that he was holding the now-empty jewelry box.
She reached for his hand, the bracelet almost glowing in the darkness. “I’m sorry,” she said, and she felt his fingers curl around hers, warm and strong.
The hotel’s ballroom contained one of the most lavish parties Nathan had ever seen. Everywhere he looked, people were bustling about: waiters raced between the tables, delivering drinks and plates of food; the guests mingled, exchanging New Year’s greetings with each other, and Mr. Gates prowled around the edge of the room overlooking everything to make sure that things were going as they were intended.
The women wore evening gowns in every color Nathan could have imagined, complemented by furs and shawls to protect against the night’s chill; the men all wore only slight variations of the same uniform: tail coats with cravats. A string quartet in the corner of the room played classical pieces that could barely be heard, but which provided an elegant backdrop to the laughter and conversation that filled the air.
He couldn’t have cared less. The last week hadn’t left him in a very festive mood, and he doubted that he would have enjoyed the scene even if he hadn’t been working. As it happened, Mr. Gates had assigned him to the lobby while the other staff worked the party, and seeing as how all their expected guests had checked in long ago, there wasn’t much for Nathan to do. He spent the evening making small talk with Jenny, the desk clerk; pacing back and forth, and generally feeling like he was wasting his time.
Still, it’s not like I’d be doing anything better at home, he thought. Ever since Cora had refused to accept the bracelet, things had gone bad between them. The memory of what she had said—implying that he only wanted to get her back in bed—still sat in his stomach, eating away at him like a bad meal. Ever since then, he’d found it hard to even keep a civil tongue in his head, so he’d erred on the side of caution and just kept his mouth shut.
Cora must have sensed how upset he was, because she hadn’t tried to pretend that nothing had happened; in fact, she had stayed quiet and out of his way. So now the home that he had looked forward to reaching at the end of every shift had turned into a place he’d rather avoid if he could. His wife—maybe only according to the letter of the law, but his wife nonetheless—refused his presents, he wasn’t speaking to her and the gorgeous bracelet he’d hoped would grace her wrist sat in its little gray box, taunting him from atop the bureau every time he stepped into his room. Yep, sometimes it’s better not to even be home at all. And this is one of those times.
From the ballroom, there was suddenly a loud, cheering chorus of voices counting down from ten. Nathan threw a quick glance to the clock. Midnight had snuck up quickly, and in his head he counted down along with the crowd.
Happy New Year, he thought. He returned to the reception desk and took a seat on a stool behind the counter. The crowd inside the ballroom began to trickle out shortly, though most of the guests stayed to listen to the music and have one last drink before things began to wrap up around a half-hour later. A few stragglers refused to leave until they were escorted out by Nathan and his coworkers, though it wasn’t clear whether their stubbornness was inborn or nurtured by too much Champagne. It may have been both.
“What do you say, Nate?” he heard somebody say. “You going to come to Sally’s with us?”
Nathan turned and looked at the group. Four of his coworkers, all looking tired as hell, were standing there putting on their coats. “You’re still going out? It’s after one already.”
“Doesn’t matter. Sally’s doesn’t close until four or five on New Year’s Eve. Guess that makes it New Year’s Day, actually,” Jenny said.
“Come on,” called out Shep, one of the waiters. “You got somewhere else you gotta be?”
Nathan thought about the dark, quiet apartment that was waiting for him, and then grabbed his coat from the closet. “I’ll come out for one drink,” he said. “Let’s go.”
The saloon was still busy when they arrived; Nathan could hear hoots and hollers drifting through the night air long before they had even turned the corner and seen the light spilling into the street from the front window.
They managed to find two small tables vacant, which they pushed together to give them more room. After ordering a whiskey, Nathan sat back to look around. The bright and shiny place that had impressed him so much on his first night in town was gone; Sally’s now looked like any other bar. The floor was puddled with spilled beer—he hoped—and for every two patrons laughing and talking, there were a handful of sleepy-looking, scruffy guys drinking alone. The bar girls who had seemed so cute and lively were still kind of pretty. But tonight they just looked tired. While Nathan watched, a short young man with a feathery mustache lifted a glass and tried to finish off his beer. He got about half of it; the rest poured down the front of his shirt and onto his pants, leaving him to stare glass-eyed at himself. Yeah, one should be just about enough, I’d say, Nathan thought.
After the waitress delivered their drinks, they made a toast to the New Year and Nathan savored the whiskey as it slipped down his throat. It had been a long time since he’d had a drink, aside from the wine he had shared with
Cora on Christmas Eve. Given how that had turned out, he didn’t want to remember it.
“So, Nathan, what’s your resolution?”
Jenny was leaning so close that he could smell her perfume. She was an attractive girl, with big brown eyes and a warm smile, and she had taken a shine to Nathan since the day he started at the hotel.
“I hadn’t even thought of one.”
“Well, you should,” she said. “New Year’s gives you one chance a year to start things all over again, you know? Want to know what my resolution is?”
“What’s that?”
“This year I’m going to find myself a husband.” Her eyes twinkled at him as she raised her glass and took a sip.
Nathan tried to subtly slide his chair over a bit. “Well, good luck with that,” he said. “But let me tell you, marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Are you having problems at home?”
“Just a little bit,” he said. “Nothing that won’t work itself out.” He let out a long sigh and suddenly realized how tired he was. He would have given anything to be in his bed, relaxed and warm, and to wake up tomorrow with everything back the way it had been.
Jenny reached over and laid her hand across his. “You just let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
He looked at her for a long moment. She was smiling at him; her face was full and pretty, as if she still carried a touch of baby fat, and her hand was warm and soft on his. The tip of her tongue slipped out and brushed her lips.
“What was that you said?” Nathan asked abruptly. “About starting things over?”
She blinked a few times, and her smile was wiped away by a confused frown. “I said that when you make a New Year’s resolution, you have the chance to start things over again.”
He squeezed her hand, then picked up his glass and tossed the rest of the whiskey down his throat. “Thanks, Jenny,” he said as he stood up and fished a quarter out of his pocket, leaving it on the table. “I’ll see you all later.”
