Sin's Haven

by Carlene Love Flores

  Mr. Eyes had left his table to go stand there. Now Hazel wondered not what, but who he was waiting for.

  At the bar, she could see Mark’s eyes widening, probably cueing her to get started. He split a huge, worried smile and she remembered where she was and what she was supposed to be doing. But before she could get a word in, another of the women from The Table stood and walked up to her.

  “Hi, may I make a very special request before you get started?” the woman asked.

  Hazel swallowed while trying to watch Mr. Eyes. Sidetracked, she said without thinking, “Sure, what can I sing for you?”

  The earthy but stylish woman leaned in closer, reminding her of a kindred spirit, a blonde version of her old bohemian self. Hazel took the cue to move the mic out of the way so no one would overhear. “Did you see the giant sweetheart who was sitting at my table?”

  Hazel glanced that way. “The blond man?” He was no giant but his legs clearly didn’t fit under the table and his shoulders looked broad. If she had to guess, Hazel would say he was country bred whereas the rest of them had migrated. Probably from California.

  The woman smiled, obviously in love. “No, that’s my hubby. I mean the one wearing the tie with the long brown hair.”

  Oh, her Mr. Eyes, Hazel thought. “Okay, yes I see him. He’s by the curtain now.” She felt a flush of embarrassment that she knew exactly where he’d gone.

  But the woman only smiled warmly. “It’s his birthday and I was wondering if at some point tonight, you could ask the room to sing him Happy Birthday.”

  “Sure, I can do that. But not now?” Happy Birthday was something Hazel and most every human being on the planet could sing in their sleep. She’d love to start things off on a positive note. And she liked this woman who obviously cared about Mr. Eyes.

  “No, not yet. We’re still waiting for one more person to show up.”

  Hazel could have sworn the woman’s mouth had twisted for a split second.

  “Okay, I’ll wait a bit and maybe you can just give me a sign when your friend shows up.”

  “Oh, she’s not my friend,” said the woman tersely.

  “O-kaay.”

  “Sorry, that’s a good idea. I’ll wave when it’s time.”

  She made to leave but Hazel couldn’t help her curiosity. “Um, can I just ask you real quick, so that I, uh, know who I’m singing this to, what’s his name? The one whose birthday it is.”

  The bohemian dressed woman smiled again and Hazel could tell it was genuine. Still keeping her head close to Hazel’s, she turned so that they both looked toward the back curtain where he stood, fidgeting with the heavy drape. “That’s Benny. He’s thirty-one tonight. Oh, and I’m Trista, by the way.”

  “Benny,” she said, testing out Mr. Eye’s actual name. It was nearly impossible not to smile when she said it but a couple seconds and she realized the woman had just introduced herself as well. The woman, Trista, who was now grinning. “I mean, Trista, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hazel.”

  “Hazel, I love that name. Well sweetie, thanks so much. Oh, while we’re waiting, maybe you could sing his favorite song. Are you familiar with the Cotton Cannibals?”

  Wow, that was so random but yes, she’d heard of the female indie group. They sported wigs that looked like cotton candy but wore blood red, ripped up and shredded dresses. The one song Hazel knew was one that had made it onto the soundtrack for a zombie movie she’d gone to see with Jay. One of their first dates. They’d walked holding hands back to his car afterwards, humming the words. “I know one song. Um, ‘Cling’?”

  So Benny’s favorite song was about knowing when to let go.

  “Holy shit, that’s the one,” said Trista.

  Trista smoothed her hands over the sides of her dress as if she didn’t have the words for what she really wanted to say and then slid them down into the front pockets. Her smile lit up her peachy skin. She had just started to make her way to the table and her studly blond husband only a few feet from the stage when the dividing curtain keeping the club and café separate opened as a pixie-like woman topped with a shock of punk rock yellow, red and orange hair stepped in.

  Was Hazel seeing things? Had her nerves about this night sent her this far over the edge? Was Erby Wells now joining them too? She sucked in a breath and remembered one of the last concerts she and Jay had attended together. It had been Lonerby opening for Sin Pointe. The air didn’t even bother to leave her mouth this time when she exhaled. No way could it have through teeth clenched this tightly. She prayed her budding tears would suffer the same fate. What was the universe trying to do to her? Enough with the distractions already. It was too much.

  ****

  She. Looked. Amazing.

  Amazingly uncomfortable. Her midnight red tapping fingertips on her hips made him frown for a second as they stood there together. Benny eyed a few flyers stuck on the nearby wall and re-read the one specific for tonight just to have something to do other than fixate on Erby’s skin. The printer this club had used was going way too heavy on the shading and the singer pictured for tonight’s charity event looked like a big, colorless, gray and black blob. Which was a shame because if she looked anything like the woman in the apron he’d seen earlier, this crappy print job was doing her no justice.

  And then there was Erby who brought color to life but whose toes hadn’t stopped tapping. Benny swallowed.

  But wasn’t it understandable though, because didn’t he feel the exact same way inside about finally taking the leap into the dating realm? Benny wouldn’t fool himself into thinking Erby had said no to every single guy who had come onto her the past six years the way he would have if a girl had shown interest in him. Her anxiety probably wasn’t spilling out due to pent up needs like his, but it was pretty thick at the moment. He hoped Erby knew he wanted so much more than just to hook up, if that was what had her fingers smoothing her dress.

  These damn tight pants. Was he sending a message the way girls did with their low cut blouses and colorful lips? There had been that one cute waitress at the window earlier who’d waved at him. He didn’t want Erby to know how good that attention had felt. Or how he’d gotten a slight chub. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that right now. Benny cleared the image of the hostess’s pretty blue eyes and focused on his date.

  On the ride over, he’d staked everything on her showing up tonight. Even his reputation with the guys. Who didn’t know how long he’d been pining over Erby? They all did. And they were rock stars who thought he was crazy to wait so long on a chick. That was okay because it meant they didn’t see her the way he did.

  The orange and yellow shocking hair didn’t shock him anymore, but its tips dipped in red still sped up his heartbeat. On cue, just like that, he was a lost cause to her porcelain skin and pink polka dot dress. Underneath it all, she’d be so soft while he held her close to him.

  Benny wished they were here on a real date. It would be perfect. He’d check them in and let Erby enter first to follow the host to their table. Something in a corner, set for two with the small candle already lit.

  “Can I get you two something to drink or an appetizer?” The bartender’s question startled Benny but yeah, something to drink would be awesome. “The house nachos are pretty good if you like spicy but there’s catfish bisque on special tonight too. I can bring you drinks now, if you’re ready,” said the man whose shirt had “Mark” embroidered on the left and “Owner” beneath that. This was the guy who needed to know about his crappy printer. Benny would have said something about it if it hadn’t been for who he heard next.

  “Corona for me, sweetie” said Erby, finally letting out that crystal clear voice that drove him thunderbolts crazy whether she was singing or speaking. She topped it off with a wink for the guy. God, she was amazing. Benny stepped closer to her again to fill the space between them but when he did, she scooted back, re-opening the cool gap.

  Mark turned to Benny and apparently felt he’d waited too long. He probably
had but Benny couldn’t take his eyes off his date. The guy prompted him again. “Sorry, I’ll take a Coke,” said Benny.

  “And rum? Maybe some Jack?”

  “No, just the Coke. Thanks, man.”

  The owner turned to fill their order.

  “You look really beautiful tonight, Erby. Your dress is really, really pretty.” He sounded okay, he was almost sure. Jaxon’s pep talk before he’d left the house reminded him to be cool but confident. She just nodded at him and half-crooked her mouth into an adorable, skillful smile. So what if it was the same one she’d just shown the guy while ordering her beer.

  Before he had a chance to scoot any closer to her, the owner walked up to the mic on the small stage. “Tonight we have the lovely and talented…”

  The guy hadn’t stopped talking but Benny’s ears ditched the rest of whatever he was saying. Not on purpose, he was sure the local girl was great and all, kind of like the cute waitress who’d waved at him earlier, but it was probably time for him to say something else to his hot lava date.

  “I’m really happy you came tonight. I can walk you over to our table and then come back and get whatever you’d like to eat. Whenever you know what you want.” He was bumbling; he could hear it. Trista and Lucky’s little Eddie would have come out sounding smoother and he was still teething.

  “I’ll take the nachos, please, sweetie.” Funny she was talking to him but looking around and behind her, and he kind of wished she’d see him as something other than sweetie. Stefan called him that. It wasn’t his favorite pet name. Anyhow, Benny should let her know that Jaxon had rented the place out for some much needed privacy tonight so she didn’t have to keep darting her eyes toward the entrance, worrying about being bothered.

  “Okay. Me too. Cool.” He sounded way too much like his gangly old self who Erby hadn’t been interested in for what felt like eons. “If you want to go sit down, I’ll bring our food when it’s ready,” he said buckling down on his low, man voice. Dude, he sounded so weird. Erby hadn’t responded, just kept scoping out the club. Well at least he wasn’t the only one nervous about tonight. He took that as a good sign. Whatever they started tonight, they’d be on equal footing. Friends. Partners. Tent mates. Benny turned around to get the attention of the other dude working behind the bar and order food for his date. He smiled.

  ****

  Erby Wells, lead singer of local band gone big time, Lonerby, stood there against the heavy plum curtain like a neon beam of light in the dark club. Hazel’s instincts were to leave the stage and welcome her like a good hostess but Benny had beaten her to it. A thousand questions about the man she’d become fascinated with made her feel like a crazy person. She wanted to sing his favorite song but he was taking forever to come back and sit down. Now she knew why.

  Jaxon James shouted out for a Roy Orbison classic while Trista’s husband wanted her to cover the baritone Josh Turner. Unfortunately, she had to go with Jaxon on this one and whispered to Julie that they could try “Pretty Woman.” Good thing she knew the words by heart because her mind was elsewhere.

  How did Benny know Erby Wells? Was she the reason he looked so manic? Wow, he was really tall next to her. How tall was he? Six-five maybe? Why hadn’t anyone else at Benny’s table turned to at least greet Erby? They guys had cared more about outdoing each other’s requests. Surely they knew each other well enough, the rich and famous. Wait. Hazel felt a tinge of nervous speculation that this might be the someone special Trista had asked her to wait for.

  Watching perhaps a little too closely, Hazel couldn’t tear her gambling eyes away from Benny as he waited with Erby. For a second he looked like he had leaned down to give her a hug but she twisted away to look at something else and then he had a hand at his ear like he had a sudden itch to scratch. He was trying to play off Erby’s dismissal. Hazel had seen him order something from Dusty, and now he just stood there by the female rocker’s side, facing Hazel and the stage, waiting.

  And there it was.

  A smile that made Hazel want to smile back. Apparently Hazel had avoided connecting with people for so long now that she’d lost that special touch she used to have of reading them. She’d been dead wrong about his aura. What surprised her the most was how empty she now felt. She wouldn’t be getting that chance to figure him out. He didn’t need her help. He had someone. Someone special. Her heart sank and on the inside, where she’d allowed her hopes to rise, her smile faded.

  “Good for you, Benny,” she said quietly after finishing the last line of Jaxon’s request, and then hoped no one had heard that heartfelt slip of tongue over the mic.

  Unsure if she should call for a new request, start in on “Cling”, or dive right into Happy Birthday, she stalled and continued to watch and wait until Benny and Erby came back to the table. It looked like they were on their way when he offered Erby the crook of his elbow…just as she turned away from him and fell immediately into the arms of some other guy who popped through the dividing curtain’s opening behind her.

  Hazel’s first instinct was to jump off the stage and make her way to her tall stranger whose hands were full with his and presumably Erby’s drinks. He had the kind of sinking stare you just didn’t look away from. If it wasn’t for the manic way he kept blinking and blowing upwards at his bangs, she’d never have seen them. The saddest, most defeated eyes focused on, well, on Hazel. Not because he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, but because he looked like he’d rather die than see what was going on with Erby.

  “Um, hi everyone,” she said into the mic, keeping her eyes locked with his. His glaring embarrassment had her stuttering. “If you missed it before, I’m Hazel and um, this next one is called ‘Cling’. It’s about letting go.” It had been a mistake to tack that on, even though she’d only meant it to be comforting. As much to Benny as to herself.

  His long fingers squeezed around the crystal clear glasses in his grasp.

  It looked like she wasn’t alone anymore. Apparently neither she nor Benny were gonna be able to get through this night very easily. This time she was sure of it.

  Unable to ignore him because what she really wanted to do was go give him a hug, she felt her fingers unfurl themselves from the mic and before she knew it, she waved. This time he didn’t wave back. Just abandoned his drinks and slunk so far down into his seat that he lost all that marvelous height she’d found so intriguing.

  Wanting desperately to add some positivity back into his birthday night, Hazel searched out Trista in hopes of making eye contact and getting the sign to sing his special request. But Trista looked completely pissed off. In any event, they locked eyes and Hazel did her best to read the situation. She widened her eyes in hopes of reminding Trista about the sign they’d agreed upon.

  Trista’s fingers were poking into her bun that sat on top of her head. After a few seconds, she waved.

  Hazel took that as her cue to go.

  She tapped the mic and leaned down to whisper into Julie’s ear that they were about to sing the birthday song.

  “It looks like our next request is a very special one.” She looked toward Benny who appeared as if he could care less about being festive. Not even a breath of air looked like it could smuggle its way between those two lips. Jaxon James’ blonde woman moved to go sit beside him and the smile Benny attempted for her probably hurt. Trista also scooted into the seat next to him and then nodded for Hazel to go on. “Alright everyone, on the count of three let’s all sing Happy—”

  But before she could go any further, Trista made her way to the stage again. Hazel had no idea what was going on but she backed away from the mic. Trista lifted her eyebrows and mouthed the words, “May I?”

  Hazel nodded.

  “Erby, it’s so great that you made it tonight. And just in time to sing for your good friend.”

  Erby just stared up at Trista who was one million percent set in her stance.

  “Come on up, Erby. Not knocking Hazel here, but you’ve got such a beautiful voice. Why
don’t you lead us in the birthday song? It would mean a lot to your friend, Benny.” Trista kept using that term. It sounded like she was making a point.

  Erby chewed the inside of her lip, drawing her cheek in deeply. Hazel worried that if Lonerby’s lead singer didn’t get up there that Trista might yank her up by her neon roots. “Come on, you don’t want to miss this chance. Special night like this might not come around again.”

  Whoa, she was really laying it on thick.

  A quick glance at Benny showed him looking completely horrified. Hazel didn’t want to tear her eyes away from his that popped wide but with Trista’s clipped tone, she was worried a cat fight was on the rise.

  For a second, Hazel thought she might let out the breath she’d been holding because Erby stood like she was finally going to accept Trista’s invitation, if you could call it that. What was the big deal anyway? Get your butt up there and sing the dang song, she thought. But nope. Instead Erby tugged on the arm of the guy she’d met up with and without a word, not even to Benny, made her way out of the club.

  What in the world? Uncomfortable silence held the club prisoner for a minute. Hazel used the time to assess Benny, who by all means, warranted the mask of disbelief smudging his handsome face. How could those people, his friends, not have seen this coming? Even Trista, who Hazel admired, had to have known that her tactics had been borderline bully-like and not likely to work on a punk rock chick. Why did she, a stranger, understand the bottomless pit Benny obviously was sinking into? She had to do something for this guy.

  Shakily, Hazel found her voice and gave Julie a nod to start strumming. “Hello. Um, it would be my honor to sing this for you. So here it goes. One, two, three…Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Benny, happy birthday to you.”

  Their eyes met, hers feeling the familiar effect of tearing up and his having gone dark and then blank.