by J. P. Grider
"Liz." After setting the drinks down on the table where Liz is sitting, I pull out the chair across from her and sit.
"Mickey. I'm sorr..."
"No. Don't say it. It was selfish of me. To think a twenty-three year old would come back to save two teenagers. That wasn't fair of me to tell you that." I keep thinking of the way Liz gasped when I told her. "You couldn't have even known. What it was like, I mean."
She holds her head down and shakes it back and forth before lifting to look at me. "I could guess," she whispers. "Your parents. They...broke...when they'd lost Frankie. They knew it was their fault. I used to hear your mother crying to my mother when she didn't know I was listening. She blamed herself, she did. And I know she hurt for you...she knew you blamed yourself, and she hated herself for it. She knew her partying and frequent orgies made her a neglectful mother, and when she was sober, she'd want to die because of what she'd caused. But then she'd drink herself past oblivion again and forget she was ever in mourning. Or at least that's how it appeared." Liz picks up her fresh glass of wine, but doesn't drink it. "I think once she realized how much heavy drinking and shooting numbed her, she was in a constant state of inebriation." Liz sips her wine now, then gently sets it down. "I knew you two had to raise yourselves, especially after my parents died, but I didn't think of doing anything about it. I didn't think I could. Not being so young and all. But, Mickey...you need me now, and...well that's why I'm here, baby. I'm capable now."
My head is whirling with everything she just said, that I don't even know what to respond to first. So I gulp down a few swallows of my Screwdriver while I organize my thoughts. "Okay," I start, "I don't even know what to say about the past, so I won't. Not now. We were both young, my parents suck, and that's that. How can you help us now? We need Kenna back. Can you help me get her? I mean, maybe write something to the judge about me, something, anything."
Her eyes are wide. Penetrating. "I've had a while to think about this on the plane, Mickey. What if instead of trying to help you get her back, and now, I'm not saying you are not capable, but you're young. Like I was. And well, it's a big commitment, a kid."
"Liz. What are you saying? Charity is in no position right now, and..."
"Please hear me out, Mick. Please."
"Fine." I finish the rest of my drink, slam it down, and look at her directly. "I'm all ears," I say quite sarcastically.
"What if I request temporary custody until Charity is capable?"
I look at her stunned. Angry almost. "You'd take her to California with you?" I shout, not meaning to draw the eyes of the tables near us, but doing so anyway. Again, more quietly, I say, "You will not take her with you." Suddenly, I'm looking at this woman, this woman I've always looked to as a savior of sorts, as the enemy. I push away from the table and stand.
"Now, Michael, sit down," she demands, equally angry with me. I sit. "I would never do that to you and Charity. I would find a place here. Close to you. For as long as you need me, I'm here to stay. I can rent out my condo. I have some money. I'll rent a place here."
"Really?" I ask, astonished, not believing what I'm hearing. "You'd uproot your life to take care of Kenna? For us?"
"I'm not twenty-three anymore, Mick. You're all the family I have left. And I want to be a part of it. If you'll let me."
As apprehensive as I am, Liz may be our only choice at the moment. I don't know where she's been the past seven years, but my guess, judging by the fact that she'd outwardly admitted that my parents' lifestyle was something she'd disapproved, is that she's lived a pretty righteous and decent life. One I hope the judge would approve.
I nod one strong firm nod. "Okay. I'll call my lawyer now, and set up a time we can all meet. Charity too." I stand to take my cell out of my pocket, but before I head to the back to make the call in private, I say, "Thank you, Liz. We needed this."
"I know you did, kid. Now go make that call."
58
HOLLY
"Maybe we should wait to go in, Griff."
"Is that Mick's bike?"
"Yeah. I'd thought he'd be gone by now."
"Well doesn't he live upstairs?" Cali asks.
"No. He moved."
"Huh," they both say out loud.
"Why would he move when he lives so close to work?" Cali asks.
"Some shit going on in his life." I slam my hands on the headrest behind Griffin. "Okay. I'm gonna grow a pair, let me out."
Cali chuckles while Griffin tsks at my crude language.
"What? A girl can't have a fresh mouth?"
"A girl can do whatever the fuck she wants."
As brave as I think I am, I still walk in behind Griffin and Cali, allowing some time to scope out the place and see if Michael's behind the bar or, and the thought has crossed my mind once or twice, here with Lara. But he's neither. I don't see him at all. We take a small table near to our usual table, but since the rest of the gang has gone home for the summer, we don't want to monopolize the bigger table. We're considerate like that.
I spot Donny behind the bar, so I tell Griffin I'll get my own drink and head for a stool by the bar.
"Holly." Donny looks happy to see me. Good.
"Hey, Don."
"We miss you, Holl. Bay breeze? How's everything?" He slides a napkin in front of me.
"Sure. I'm good. You?"
"Not bad. Getting adjusted to working nights. Not really a fan, but...." He trails off, 'cause he knows I know why he's working nights.
"Did you get my message?"
"No." Confused, he says, "When did you leave a message?"
"This morning. I was wondering." I tap my fingers nervously. "Can I...come back to work?" My voice is unfamiliar to me, timid and shaky.
"Here?" His eyes pop out and he chuckles beneath his breath. "What happened to fancy ole Wall Street?"
"Didn't work out," I vaguely explain.
"Well, I hired Tabitha and then with Tina and Brandy working too, I may have to put you on days."
"Days?" Michael works days. I frown inside.
"At least for the summer. But...you seem to know your drinks pretty well, and I could use a night or two off. What if I start training you to be a bartender?"
"Bartender? You're freaking kidding me."
"No. I can put you on as waitress on the days Tina doesn't want, and you can work with Brandy, and at night, I'll start training you. I'll pay you while you're training, just not...as much." He pauses, then quickly says, "But you’ll still be part of the tip pool. I wouldn’t leave you out of that.” "Oh my God, Don. You made my day. I'd love to train to be bartender. Oh thank you so much."
"So that means you're hanging 'round here this summer?"
"I am. I have morning summer classes. But I'll be done by eleven. That's when you'll need me, right?"
"Yeah. Eleven. Eleven-thirty. Let me figure out the schedule, and I'll let you know."
If the bar were not between us, I'd reach across and give him a kiss. "I can kiss you right now." I pat my hands on the bar. I'm so excited.
While Donny and I had been talking, he continued to make drinks for his patrons, so he places a tray in front of me, sets my Bay Breeze and two other drinks on it, and says, "Save Tab the trip, bring these to your friends."
Back at the table, I start to share my happy news when I see Michael walk in from the back and take a seat with a gorgeous long-haired brunette. It's not Lara. Suddenly, my news doesn't seem so happy, and my stomach doesn't feel much like eating.
"Holl. You okay? You look like you're gonna puke or something." Griffin's words seem far away.
But I don't answer him. Instead, I watch, dumbfounded, as Michael stands from his chair and escorts the woman out, guiding the way out of the back door by placing his hand on the middle of her back.
"I think I'm gonna be sick."
"You look it."
"Oh my goodness, Griff, did I say that out loud?"
"You want me to get you water?" Cali, already out of her chair, tak
es off for the bar without waiting for an answer.
"What's going on?" Griffin asks.
"I just saw Mick," I forgo the Michael-shtick, "with another girl."
Griffin tilts his head in sympathy.
"And it wasn't his ex."
"Holly. Maybe it's something innocent or something...like a sister."
"No. That is not his sister. And he doesn't have any other siblings."
"Cousin?"
"No family, just Donny, and he just has his dad. Why you tryin' to make excuses for him anyway?"
Cali returns with a glass of ice water, the condensation already drenching the glass.
"Isn't that what friends do?" Griffin wonders.
"No. They tell you to cut the crap and get over it."
"Uh. No, Holl, that's just you who does that."
I let a laugh escape when I check out Griff's raised eyebrows.
"Yeah. I'm not too empathetic, am I?"
He lowers his brow and stops smiling. "I think you're too empathetic, and that's why you make jokes about everything. If you don't, reality would hurt too much."
Holy shit. When did Griffin jump inside my heart and get to know it? "Uh, sorry, Charlie, no. That's not true." But it SO is.
Four Malibu Bay Breezes later, and I'm feeling much better. Enough so that I eat a whole plate of waffle fries smothered in cheddar cheese. One of my favorite comfort foods. As the night thickens and the crowd thins, Tabitha pulls out a chair and hangs with us, cracking jokes the rest of the night.
"You know," I say to Tabitha, slurring my words just a little—part from being drunk, part from being just doggone tired, "we should go out, you and I. You're hella fun."
She laughs. "I am."
Cali agrees with her.
"Anyway, Donny said we'll be seeing a lot of each other soon. He's training you to tend bar?"
"Holly," Griffin kind of shouts, "you didn't tell us that."
Oh yeah. I was kind of sidetracked. What with Mick and that new girl of his on my mind. "Oops. Yeah. Donny wants me to be able to fill in for him some nights...besides the waitressing I started to tell you about before."
"That's great news, Holly," Cali hails.
"Thanks."
By two in the morning, we are all just beat, and Griffin suggests I just stay the night at his place. He said I can throw on a clean set of sheets and sleep in Hurley's room, which by Friday, will be mine. So I agree, and Griffin, Cali, and I drive to Griffin's house, where I, the third wheel, spend the night.
59
MICK
When I wake Tuesday morning, Liz is in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee. The coffee I'd purchased that Sunday morning when I thought Holly might be coming over. I know how fond she is of coffee. But we'd gone to Seaside that day and I never did get to make it for her.
"The house looks different," Liz points out, her back to me as she finishes counting spoonfuls of coffee grinds. "More...I can't say homey, but brighter maybe. Less...sad...than I remember."
"Sad it was," I murmur, stepping up next to her and reaching for two mugs.
"The room across from the one I slept in, was that Kenna's?"
A smile flashes across my face before I drop it, as what usually happens when I think of my niece. "Yeah. That's the baby's room. You were sleeping in T's room."
"You still call her T?" she asks, surprised, cocking her head and smiling.
"Old habits and everything. I was thinking," I open the refrigerator, checking the milk to make sure it hasn't expired, "maybe before we go see the lawyer, we stop and see my sister. We really need to talk about this with her," I acknowledge, feeling bad that I am the one that took her baby away from her in the first place.
"Of course." My aunt rummages through the cabinets, probably in search of some breakfast.
"I have a box of Frosted Flakes," I pull them out of the top cabinet, "but that's about it. I haven't lived here long and well, with all that's been going on, I haven't eaten much."
"You don't eat?"
"Of course I eat. I usually just grab a burger at work, and I'm not hungry when I come home."
"Too sad? Being here?"
"That's an understatement."
"I think you're doing the right thing. Selling it and all. I like your idea about buying a two-family. Keeping you guys together is important...for Kenna."
In the living room, the front door opens.
"You expecting someone?" Liz looks at me, wondering.
"The door was locked," I say, dashing for the front door.
"Charity." I sigh, forgetting my sister still has a key.
"Luke told me Liz is here."
Charity and Liz, though close in age, were never really that close as friends. Liz was much more mature than Charity, and she wasn't too fond of the fact that my sister didn't fall far from my parents' tree. But Charity did look up to our young aunt. We both did.
"Lizzie," my sister cries, jumping into her aunt's arms, as if T were someone of Kenna's age. My guess is that all the drugs Charity did halted her brain development, and she never really matured at all.
"Oh, Charity. I've missed you." My aunt doesn't let go of T while she speaks. "We need to pull together. I'm here for you. For both of you." Liz looks over T's shoulder at me.
Charity pulls away and wipes at her eyes, using her whole palm, just like Kenna would. "Can you help me get my baby back?"
"I'm gonna try, Charity. I'm really gonna try."
"We have an appointment with the lawyer this morning, T. I'd like you to be there."
Her lifeless brown eyes grow wide, and she takes a look down at herself. "Oh. No. I am..."
"Charity," Liz pipes in, "We'll get you looking okay."
"You need to make an effort, T," I remind her. "This is your daughter we're talking about."
Well that must have been the wrong thing to say, because just then, Charity's knees buckle, and I'm able to catch her before she hits the floor.
"Lay her flat, Mick. Get the blood flowing to her head again," Liz instructs, and I do exactly what she says.
"What? Wh..."
"She passed out. She'll be fine."
As my aunt predicts, Charity's eyes flicker open. "Oh, T. I'm sorry, I didn't..."
"Get her some soda, Mick."
"I don't have soda, you saw..."
"Then get her water and those Frosted Flakes. Just, she needs sugar. Go."
I do as she says and return with the food. By then, Charity's head is resting on Liz's lap, her eyes closed and peaceful. "We're gonna get her back, sweetheart. We're gonna get her back."
Liz's words run through my head, and for a change, I'm comforted. A feeling of peace washes through me. With Liz's help, hopefully we will get our little girl back. And once that happens, maybe I can finally find a way to keep Holly in my life.
Carmine's office seems smaller today than usual, with the three of us taking up more room than just I had.
"I'm Kenna's aunt. Mary-Elizabeth Ross. And I'd like custody of my niece Kenna."
Carmine nods. To Charity, he says, "You're the mother." He doesn't ask.
"I am." Charity is fidgety and nervous, if her playing with the hem of her shirt is any indication.
Back to Liz, Carmine speaks. "Where did you come from? Why am I only hearing about you now?"
"I live in California. Charity, Mick, and I had lost touch over the years," she pauses, "once my parents died. But...before that... we were all very close. Especially Mick and I."
"So you don't even know the toddler. Which means she doesn't know you."
"That's right, but she doesn't know that foster family either, and I'm blood. We can prove it. I'm a pharmacist, which means I can find a job at any hospital or retail pharmacy. I will not have a problem finding a job that will fit Kenna's daycare schedule. Mick has told me that daycare is more appealing to child services than he is." She scoffs. "Which makes me sick to my stomach. He is a wonderful, caring man. I don't understand any of this, but if what they want
is someone older, more stable, and has a strong means of providing for Kenna, then I am that person. I will stay here in this town. I will rent a place near to Mick and Charity, and I will do that immediately. I have enough cash and enough money in the bank to make that happen. I do not have a significant-other currently, so there will be nothing to stand in the way. And I'd like to see to it that you get us a court date as fast as you can."
Wow. Aunt Liz is intimidating. Apparently, Carmine thinks so too. He's backed himself away from his a desk a few inches, and his eyes are reaching for his forehead. "Well. I will make that happen." His mouth cocks into a half-smile. He then nods his head and adds, "You're quite a woman there, Ms. Ross."
"Just see that this happens soon. Please."
Carmine slips a form in front of her, but his eyes never leave her face. "Just fill this out for me. I need to enter your information into our website..." he trails off, plainly intrigued by my beautiful aunt.
60
HOLLY
"So you ready for your first bartending lesson?"
Donny called me last week with my new schedule. I will be coming in after class on Tuesdays and Thursdays to waitress until six, since business is picking up between four and six and he'd like me to work the extra two hours. And I will waitress on Friday nights with Tina and Saturday nights with Tabitha, which I am pleased as piss since those are the busiest nights. I will train as bartender on Wednesday nights and Sundays with Donny, and today is my first Sunday.
"Hell yeah. Bring it on," I joke, super excited, but equally as nervous. I would hate to mess up someone's drink order.
"Good. So, it's slow right now, so I'm gonna go over a few things with you," Donny says as he sets out different size glasses. "If you were taking a real course, they'd be taking you through the different types of terminology and equipment and shit, but since you're only working here, I'm gonna show you exactly what you need to know."
It takes a short amount of time for Donny to explain to me what a jigger is, the two-finger method, the three-count technique and so on, on account of my spending many a nights sitting at a bar and even the short amount of time I'd worked as a waitress here. He passes over teaching me the common highballs, since I can mix those with my eyes closed. Cocktails are the drinks I need a little more time learning, so we go over those in between tending to bar orders. Working behind the bar seems to go a lot faster for me than waitressing, and I'm grateful that Donny is affording me this opportunity.
