Glimmer

by Ashley Munoz

  Of course, he did, because he’s handsome and successful and probably has a wife that could easily be mistaken for a supermodel. I pinched the bridge of my nose and listened as Laney kept going. “It doesn't say that he is married, and I don't see any pictures of him with a woman. He hasn't posted anything for over a year, though, so who knows?”

  I was actually thankful I couldn't see what she was seeing. I deleted my social media accounts after I was phased out. I didn't need to see an endless feed of happy ex-coworkers getting drinks and not being unemployed. I decided I didn't really need to decompress as much as I thought I did; instead, I just needed sleep.

  “Laney, I gotta run, just wanted to catch up with you for a second.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but call me tomorrow and let me know if you are going to be able to make it over here for Thanksgiving.”

  It was only September, so my answer to that was a simple, “Okay Laney, love you.”

  Once I ended the call with her, I did my best to relax. I didn't want to think about Thanksgiving, and how it would probably be my last one with my mom. Laney meant well, but she really couldn't understand how hard it was for me to leave my mom, or even take her anywhere. The treatments were taking so much out of her, and our time together was so precious, which made the realization that I would be spending the next evening away from her so much more difficult.

  So right there, in the darkness of my room, I let those tears fall free. Everything hurt, I didn't want to lose my mom, but a huge part of me felt like she was already gone. I hated who I had turned into. My life was bleak, colorless, and sad. Every night, I was in bed before nine and every night, I cried myself to sleep. I wanted to push against this hopelessness that had consumed me. It felt like a giant rock, crushing my chest; one wrong move and it would finish me. I gripped my blankets and let the darkness take over.

  “Eight, nine, ten! Ready or not, here I come!”

  I let my voice ring through the house, so my little boy could hear me. If I didn't, then he would make me count again. I know this because I had made that mistake twice now, and that is how we found ourselves playing hide and seek at nine thirty at night. The kids’ teachers happened to disagree with my flexible bedtime routine with the kids, I happened to not give a shit.

  I bent down to look in between the side table and the loveseat. He was only six, so he still fit in awkwardly small spaces, but wasn't tall enough to fill in bigger ones. I caught sight of his toes and legs behind the coat rack near the door. I wanted to let the game go on a little longer, but one glance around the room confirmed that I needed to put him to bed, so I could clean up.

  I snuck up to where the coat rack stood and grabbed Sammy’s legs, while yelling like a monster. He screamed as I threw him over my shoulder, then headed upstairs to his bedroom. “Okay, mini Stenson, are you ready for bed?”

  Sammy didn't reply, he just kept talking about his next hiding spot, and how it would be even better the next time.

  I hit him on the back of his legs. “Hey, are you listening to me up there?”

  He giggled. “Yeah, Dad, I'm ready, thanks for playing.” I threw him on his bed once we reached his room and I began tucking him in. I kneeled next to his bed and began to pray.

  “Dear Lord, thank you for this day, thank you for our family, keep us all safe, and bless our home. Amen,” I finished, then Sammy added in like he always does, “And please keep my mom safe, wherever she is out there.”

  I froze, like I did every time he prayed for her. I didn't want to pray for her, didn't want to think about her, I didn't even want her name mentioned in the house. Sammy had such a good heart though, and I never wanted to crush that part of him, so I always let him say his prayer. I kissed him goodnight and headed towards Jasmine's room.

  Jasmine was laying in her twin bed with her pink comforter pulled up to her stomach. She had her necked propped up by pillows while she wrote in her journal. I smiled as I made my way to the side of her bed. She never asked to pray, and she especially didn't talk about her mom like Sammy did. I didn't mind that, but I knew that she still struggled with the anger she held towards her mother. Therapy could only help so much, especially at her age. She had just turned ten and asked to stop going last year. I obliged and figured we were past the worst of it, or at least I hoped we were.

  “Hey sweetie, you ready for bed?” I gently asked.

  Everything between us was so fragile, it seemed. She got upset with me and even her grandpa, more than she ever did before. I'd received emails from her teacher, letting me know that she wasn't making friends very easily because she seemed to be mad at the world. I didn't want to confirm anything for anyone, but here's the truth: she was mad at the world. She was mad that she didn't have a mother and she was mad that her hair looked like a man did it every day, because one did, and she was mad that all the other little girls rubbed it in her face.

  I patted her back and stroked her blonde hair, wishing so badly that I could fix her, fix all of it.

  “Yeah, I'm ready, Dad, goodnight,” she squeaked out.

  I kissed her on her forehead and turned off her light as I walked back downstairs. I heard the front door open and knew my dad had just walked in. He lived in our renovated basement, which was a huge help with the kids since I was doing this parenting thing alone. He was kicking off his shoes in the entryway and made his way towards me.

  “Hey Dad, how was your night?”

  Dad set his shoes in their place and wiggled his sock-covered toes.

  He smiled, but then after a second or two, he frowned. “It was interesting. How was your day, get the position filled?” Like I needed one more reminder of the disastrous interview that took place earlier in the day.

  “No, I didn’t get it filled. The girl who showed up to interview for it ended up being crazy.” I grabbed my neck, trying to rub the stress out of it. Dad didn’t need to know the whole story, but she was crazy. She may have had a reason to tell me off, but it was still crazy that she actually did it, all while gripping a taser. Then the crying. What a shit show.

  My dad looked down at the floor while his hands rested on his hips. He was wearing one of his signature flannel shirts, rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair was losing the battle against the white that was invading his scalp and face. He looked like a peaceful grandpa who played bingo twice a week and went fishing on the weekends. You'd never know that he was once a ruthless member of a biker gang. You'd never know that he had to once kill men, just to be free of them. He was stronger than me, braver. Shame slammed into me at the reminder of what he did for his freedom versus what I did. I was a coward.

  Finally, he spoke up, “Well, that’s too bad.”

  He left towards the kitchen. I remembered that I wasn't the only one who has a business to run or a position to fill. So, I asked about his bar.

  “Well, what about yours? Did you find a new bartender?”

  I heard him yell from the kitchen pantry, “Sure did, with a pretty little thing. Should bring in some good tips, and maybe get some more regulars in.”

  That was surprising. Dad usually hired men or older women. It was an older bar, so I wasn't sure what his angle was with hiring a younger “pretty little thing.”

  I replied, “Well, that’s good, you needed some help, right? Hopefully, the new girl knows what she’s doing.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I think she can handle herself, plus, she’s a sweetie. It will be nice having her around as I get ready to tie things up there.”

  Another surprise. For an entire year, we had gone back and forth about him retiring. To hear him bring it up for a change was nice. Maybe I could finally start moving forward with my plans of flipping the bar and actually turn the dump into something that could pull in a profit. I wouldn't share that with him, though; it would spook him and probably encourage him to stay on forever.

  I joined him in the kitchen and began putting the dishes in the dishwasher. My suburban, three-story house was snuggled neatly in the n
icer part of town. Honestly, it's not something I ever thought I'd be able to afford, but two years ago, after I opened the bar, things just took off.

  I placed the final plate in the bottom of the dishwasher and started it. I turned towards my dad to ask him about his retirement comment, but he beat me to it and asked a question of his own.

  “So, when are you going out on a date? It's been over a year since your last relationship of any kind, and that ain’t healthy.”

  “Dad, not this again.” I let out a loud sigh. Normally, my dad and I would go round and round on this particular subject. I didn't have it in me to argue tonight, so gave in. My voice dripped with exasperation as I asked, “Dad, who do you want me to go on a date with?”

  He laughed, turning to face me fully and crossed his arms. “Don’t play coy with me, boy, I know for a fact that you have at least half a dozen women asking you out on a regular basis.”

  He wasn't wrong about that, it was just that the types of women were all wrong. Usually, women would approach me in either my bar or my dad's. If it was in my bar, they approached me because I was the owner and they knew it. If they approached me in my dad's, then it was usually because of my connection to the Brass, the motorcycle gang I was still technically tied to.

  Although the women who hit on me were usually hot as hell, it turned me off when they'd bring up my bar while pulling on their necklines or talk about the Brass while running their hands over my tattoos. I was looking for something different. Something I didn't think I even deserved. I had a rough history, and the one-night stands were fine for a while, but I was tired of it. I wanted more. I wanted someone I could bring home and introduce to my kids.

  The image of a dark green SUV with a soccer ball sticker in the back window started forming in my mind then it wandered to the gorgeous brunette attached to it. It irritated me beyond reason that my thoughts went back to that woman. That frustrating, opinionated, beautiful woman. There was something about her. Even from the moment she walked up, and I saw her hair. When I saw those braids, something in me stirred. I'm not even sure why, I guess because I thought maybe a woman who had braids in her hair wouldn't care about me being the owner of a restaurant or about my position in the Brass. Thinking those kinds of thoughts about a complete stranger was dangerous, it made me all the more glad that I didn’t give her the job.

  I answered my dad with the only thing I could think of to get him off my back. “Dad, find me a babysitter and I will find a date.”

  Dad replied with a hearty laugh, “Deal.”

  I left dad to make his dinner and went into my office to tackle bills. It was still so foreign to not feel anxious over paying them. Before the bar, I was barely making ends meet.

  After I left the Brass five years ago, I came to Belvidere where my dad lived. He still had his two-bedroom condo that he owned with my mom. He took me and the kids in, just like we planned. I'll never forget the way he looked at me the night I pulled up to his house.

  It was late, nearly midnight. The kids were asleep in the backseat of my shitty little Honda Civic. I had managed to shove everything I owned into that little car, minus any furniture of course. But everything that mattered was there. Dad came out of the condo to help me, his silvery-gray hair shining with the light from the porch. I went to grab one of the kids when he stopped me, gripped my shoulder, and looked into my eyes, worry and curiosity flooding his gaze. I stared back at him and nodded to his unspoken question; I was out, and with Davis's permission, so no one was coming after us.

  My dad hugged me so tight that I thought my back might crack. He whispered in my ear, "I'm proud of you, son. It's time for a fresh start."

  I worked construction and odd jobs for the first three years, saving every penny that I could. I shared a room with my two children and slowly but surely began to embrace the fresh start that I was supposed to have. It wasn't easy, and nearly every night I laid awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to do it. Being a single parent was never supposed to happen, not to me, at least. Not to my kids.

  I pushed the onslaught of memories back and tried to focus on sorting the bills for my house. Once that was through, I focused on the restaurant. I needed an accountant. One that doubled as a personal assistant, and I needed one as soon as possible. I was really banking on Ramsey Bennington working out; based off her resume, she was my top pick. I lowered my head into my hands and pulled at my hair. Shit. I needed this position filled today, and now I was even further behind than before.

  I flashed back to when I passed Ramsey on the road. I was in control and knew what I was doing but still, I did feel like a prick for scaring her. I would have apologized too, if she had given me a chance. I rolled my office chair closer to the desk, and aimlessly clicked through a few emails. There were two new ones requesting an interview for the accounting position. Hopefully I'd have better luck with one of these tomorrow.

  My first official day of work was starting, and I felt relieved. It wasn't Dyson and Reed, and it wasn't Jimmy's, but it was work and, more importantly, money.

  Once I got to Sip N Sides, I clocked in at exactly three p.m. in the back office. There was a small break room with a table, counter, microwave, mini fridge, and a row of small lockers along the wall more towards the back. I made my way to the lockers, found an empty one, and put my things inside.

  I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to dress, so I settled on wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, white Tom's, and a plain white t-shirt. The black apron Theo gave me last night, I already had fastened around my hips. My hair was in a few loose, big braids leading into a high ponytail. There was a black V-neck t-shirt that had two white S's on the right pocket hanging near the last locker in the row, which I assumed was for me. I rubbed the black cotton fabric between my thumb and pointer finger, assessing it. I tilted the collar so I could see it better; S for small. For the love of everything, this was going to suck. I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and sighed. I wore a medium. I righted my head and with determination, and tried stretching the shirt out a few times. I made a mental note to ask for a bigger size the first chance I got. Just around the small section of lockers was a bathroom where I changed.

  Theo was already out in the bar area, it was around 3:15. I guess my attempts at pulling and stretching took longer than I thought. There was light making its way through a few windows to the side, but most of the establishment was dark and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. I navigated around a few slot machines until I was closing in on the bar.

  Instead of elderly customers lining the stools, or anyone of legal drinking age, I saw two kids. One was a girl with beautiful blonde hair that was put into a side ponytail, around nine or ten. The other was a boy, around six or seven, with messy brown hair, and a smile full of missing teeth. Both kids nearly took the breath out of my lungs with how cute they were. They were just sitting there, eating fries like it was the most normal thing in the world that they were in a bar. I walked up next to Theo and caught his attention, and he turned toward me with a large smile.

  “Aw, Ramsey! Perfect, you're here just in time to meet my grandkids.”

  This was too cute. I thought I couldn't love Theo more, but it turned out that I could. I cut towards the kids and smiled. I received a big smile from the boy and half of one from the girl. I stuck my hand out to each of them. “Hi, my name is Ramsey, what's yours?”

  The boy giggled and drank some chocolate milk, leaving a large mustache behind on his face. “What kind of name is Ramsey for a girl?” he joked.

  “Shut up, Sammy, that's rude. I think it's a pretty name, it's better than my stupid name,” the girl squeaked out.

  “I don't think that's possible. What's your name?” I asked the girl. How could she not like her name?

  “It's Jasmine,” she replied in a small voice, then shook my hand.

  I took my hand back. “Jasmine, you have a beautiful name, it suits you. You are a drop dead gorgeous girl. You definitely need a pretty nam
e like Jasmine.”

  She blushed a little bit, then looked up at my hair. “I wish I could do that with my hair, but I don't know how to braid.”

  I touched my hair. “Oh Jasmine, you and I are going to be great friends. I can do your hair anytime you want, if your mom doesn't mind me messing with it, of course. But I don't have any kids of my own, and I would love to try out some hairstyles on someone willing.”

  She stared down at her fries then looked away, and I worried that I said something wrong. Slowly, she turned her head back towards me and replied in a soft voice, “I don't have a mom… so I would like it if you wanted to try some hair stuff on me, as long as my dad or grandpa says it's okay.”

  Theo looked at us both and then smiled. “Ramsey, consider it a part of your hourly wage. In fact, I was going to mention, if you are interested in making some extra cash, their dad is looking for an occasional babysitter, so he can go out some evenings. He pays really well… is that something you'd ever be interested in?”

  Theo had his fingers drumming on the counter, and a sneaky look on his face, he was simply adorable. I didn't have anything against becoming a babysitter at twenty-eight, especially to kids as cute as these.

  “Yeah, absolutely. It will give Jasmine and me a chance to try some hairstyle ideas. I don't know what Sammy likes to do, but I am a pretty talented hide-and-seeker, and I love playing tag.”

  Sammy lit up like a Christmas tree, and yelled, “Those are two of my favorite games! I am really good at hiding, and my dad always gives up too soon. Would you really play with me, if you come over?”

  I smiled at him, snagging a fry off his plate. I loved that I had made a total of three new friends in less than a twenty-four-hour period. There's just something powerful about having people care if you show up somewhere.

  “Yes, of course. If your dad decides to let me babysit, then I will play however many games as you want, buddy.”

  Theo added, “Well, their dad asked me to find a babysitter since I originally was going to do it, but the evening he needs it, there's a big bingo tournament going on down at the VFW hall. So, you would really be helping me out.”