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Return to Gray Harbor

Page 6

by Bryant, J. J.


  Michael made his way over to the bar. It was pretty quiet inside. There were a few people dining at the nearby tables and only one other gentleman sitting at the bar on the opposite end of where Michael decided to plant himself. He wasn’t feeling in the mood for chatting it up with a stranger tonight. He just wanted a drink, a burger, and some television. As he settled into his stool, he leaned back to look at the specials on the board. He didn’t even notice that a woman had walked over and was looking at him expectantly from behind the bar.

  Beth felt like an idiot. She hated working behind the bar. People didn’t treat her like she owned the Inn then. Not that everyone had to know it but she worked really hard to get here and had really pulled herself up. She always got annoyed when she had to cover shifts for her employees and people treated her like the hired hand. And what was worse, she had to serve this guy. She was hoping he’d order something simple. Although she was a gourmet chef, she couldn’t mix a drink for her life. And oddly, something else made her a little uncomfortable around this man. He looked terribly familiar and he was good looking in that handsomely imperfect kind of way. His glasses also made him look bookish, not something that was common in Gray Harbor.

  “What can I get for you, sir?”

  Michael was startled by her presence and stumbled over his words. “Um yes, I’d just like a Sam Adams,” he said, before he even registered who he was speaking to. Then he really noticed her, all of a sudden. Wow, he thought. She was gorgeous. He had always had a thing for redheads ever since — no, it couldn’t be ... could it?

  She went to the fridge and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God, a beer. That she could handle. She opened the beer with her back facing him and grabbed a menu as well. “Here you go, sir, one Sam Adams. Can I interest you in something to eat?” She held out the menu.

  As he accepted it, he thought to himself that she could interest him in a lot of things. Before he could let his mind wander or embarrass himself with a physical reaction to her, he said, “Sure, that would be great.”

  He quickly glanced at the menu and asked her, ”What’s good here? I came here thinking I wanted a burger but it looks like you have so much more to offer here.”

  Was he hitting on her? Seriously? Here we go. Why did men always hit on waitresses or bartenders? It’s not like they actually want to chat with them. I mean, he was good looking, extremely good looking. She was taking way too long to respond to him and was just staring. She caught herself and was glad she had plenty of answers to his question. After all, the menu was her creation.

  “Well, with that beer I’d recommend either our burgers or you could try the American Kobe flat iron steak with spring pea shoots, hickory smoked bacon, and roasted yukon gold potatoes with a tarragon whole grain mustard sauce.”

  She was sure he wouldn’t get that, no one ever ordered something like that to just eat at a bar alone, but he did ask.

  “Wow, that sounds perfect.”

  He looked down at the menu again and added, “ I’d also like to get the roasted Penobscot bay oysters … sounds great. I don’t think I have ever had them served with a spinach shallot crème fraîche. But it sounds amazing,” he said, as he pushed his glasses up his nose and beamed, handing her back the menu.

  Beth noticed his movement and made the connection. She had seen him before. Her old lab partner always was doing that with his glasses whenever he smile dup at her. Well if it was him he had certainly changed for the better since high school. Back then he had been scrawny and quiet, with terrible acne and huge glasses. He was certainly looking better. She had never admitted it to her friends, but despite all that, she had had a little bit of a crush on him in high school, even though he was a bit of a nerd and short. He was always pleasant and had seen her at her worst and never mentioned it to anyone. When her parents had died, she broke down and Michael had comforted her and covered for her in school. And then not sixth months later, her sister, she — well, no point in thinking about that now.

  “You’re not Michael Malone, are you?” asked Beth.

  Michael was taken aback; he was sure she wouldn’t remember him. “Um, yes, yes I am. Have we met before?”

  He tried to play it cool. If this was Beth, she had changed quite a bit herself. She was stunning, even in her bartending getup. But it just couldn’t be. Looking at her now ... could it be?

  “It’s me, Beth Adams. You know, from chemistry in high school.”

  Beth Adams. It was her. He couldn’t hide his surprise, although he felt like an idiot because he knew this was a possibility. In high school Beth was still tall and thin … in fact, she had towered over Michael, who didn’t seem to hit his growth spurt until college. She had always been nice to him back then, although he always felt a little uncomfortable around her. And he was starting to feel little uncomfortable around her now. He had had a crush on her in high school, ever since they were lab partners freshman year. He always liked the look of her and he loved her hair … and she wore thick glasses that let him forget that she was popular and that … well, that he was so far from it. Nothing like Jesse.

  Being in school as a freshman the same time Jesse was there had been hard for Michael. Jesse was probably the one who kept Michael from getting beat up, but when people found out he was Jesse’s brother, they thought he was going to be athletic, or funny or cool … yet he was none of those things. Sure, now he was certainly fit, but he got there from countless hours at the gym with a personal trainer. He had also started running but when it came to sports that involved a ball, a bat, a stick, or a team, Michael was completely out of his element, although he enjoyed being a spectator of sports.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Nice to see you Beth. It’s been a long time. You look great, by the way.” Michael stumbled a little on his words, what was happening? Usually Michael was so smooth. Well, not today, he was nervous, uncomfortable, and attracted to Beth. It was like he was in high school all over again. Even his palms were sweaty.

  What was wrong with him? He needed to focus. He was in Maine to help his parents get everything in order and to see his father, not get fixated on some bartender, even if she was Beth.

  She was still in awe of how much he changed. She guessed he was just over six feet tall, and he was just so manly now. And while she like some muscles, she didn’t want a gym-obsessed man. Michael was both tall and lean ... why was she even thinking about this? She had to focus, she had to manage the bar and come up with tomorrow's menu, she certainly had no time to think about a man who would surely be leaving town soon, let alone the man whose brother caused her sister’s death. Despite her instant attraction to seeing him, it also caused her pain. It reminded her of that night.

  The night of the state championships, her sister Jen let her boyfriend Jesse talk her out of driving her car home. They had both had too much to drink, and despite Beth and Michael’s pleading, they left the party they were all at and left them behind. She guessed she should be thankful for that, but sometimes she wondered if she had been in the car if she could have done something to save them. Instead, she and Michael were drunk themselves, and had almost slept together. It didn’t matter. It was the past. She blinked back the tears she felt forming at the corners of her eyes. Had he said something, she thought, oh, yes, he had; she supposed she should respond instead of standing there, awkward and speechless.

  “Um, well, thanks. You look great, too.” She shouldn’t have said that, was her attraction that obvious? She needed to get away and fast.

  “Why don’t I go check on your food.” She stammered and walked away quickly.

  Wow, Michael thought. Beth Adams. She was gorgeous. She had become more shapely than when they were teenagers; he could see how deeply blue her eyes were now that she wore contact lenses, and that red hair! He needed to calm down. He quickly drank his beer in an effort to ease his nerves. His palms were still sweaty. How could he get so nervous about a bartender? He had slept with countless bartenders and waitresses in New York, it was a
lways the same: aspiring actress or model. He wanted more than a woman who was a bartender. Not to sound like a jerk but he couldn’t get serious about someone who wasn’t living their dream, no matter what it was. He wanted something more, he wanted a woman who was passionate, who loved what she did, and who was as focused as he had been. Then again, he was only going to be here for another couple of weeks.

  Oh, hell, Beth probably got hit on all the time by creepy guys who came into the bar. Bartender or not, he didn’t want to seem like a pig, especially with their history. Nothing had really happened other than a few frantic kisses, but much more could have. He would forget the advances he wished he could make for now. He took another long swig of his beer as his oysters came out. Beth placed the plate in front of him and asked if he’d like another beer, to which he nodded amiably. When she came back with his beer, he had already had one of the oysters.

  “Wow, these are great. If the rest of the food is like this, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me while I am here.”

  He smiled and had another sip of his beer.

  “Glad you like it.” She should have ended it there but she just had to know, she loved hearing what people thought of her food.

  “What’s your favorite part?” She leaned in and asked.

  He wanted to respond with, “all of you” as she leaned over the bar. Thank God she was behind the bar, otherwise she might know that all of her parts were his favorite and that he was having a very strong physical reaction to her. Instead, he tried to respond with a more respectable answer and secretly hoped she was asking a less respectable question in her own mind about him.

  “I love the spinach fraîche but my favorite part is the potato crust. That hint of truffle, although subtle, is amazing. It really makes it upscale but not in the way that I feel silly ordering it at a bar, or rather, a tavern, if that makes sense. I feel like although these are special, I would love to taste it every day and wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

  She got a little lost in his explanation, but it was exactly what she intended when she created it. She was unable to speak and realized she had been ignoring the other gentleman at the bar far too long. She just smiled, nodded, and headed over to the other end of the bar.

  Wow, Michael thought. Beth Adams. At least there was one positive that had come from this terrible evening. Of course, he could never get involved with her, even if she was interested. His life was in New York and they had too much tragedy in their shared history, anyway. He began to work on his second beer and got lost in the game on the television. She came back with his steak and then eventually, as the other gentleman left the bar, she took a seat and began writing. He continued to watch the television and sip his beer.

  He had to go home eventually, he just didn’t want to. Home, he thought, where was home now? Maine never felt right before, New York didn’t feel right now. What was he going to do with his life — hell, what was he going to do tomorrow? Maybe he should just leave and go back to New York now and face the music there. Hell, if he didn’t figure something out soon, he might be bartending himself in a few months’ time … or even sooner.

  Beth was seated on the other end of the bar and looked over at Michael. Wow, he was certainly attractive. And there was still something soft about him, He had those sensitive eyes. He just always looked so understanding. She stopped herself. What was she thinking? He really didn’t seem to be flirting anymore —which she hated to admit was a little disappointing. It had been a long time since Beth had a fling, let alone a relationship. Not really since she moved back here. Her brother Bob kept telling her to be more adventurous ... but that just wasn’t her. And what was it about this man? They had a history, a shared experience — but not exactly a pleasant one that connected them. But there was something more to it than that. Anyway, it didn’t matter. Even if she could get beyond the memories of Jenny he dredged up and their own past, he said he’d only be here a few weeks. Also, who could take off a few weeks these days…and why come here? Even though it was a beautiful little town, she never expected to be living here as an adult.

  She snuck another look at him. It was startling how much someone could change in thirteen years. She had also changed, but she didn’t feel like it was nearly as dramatic. His blue polo shirt stretched over his taut muscles and tight stomach. It looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym, but he wasn’t ultra muscular and didn’t have the look of a “meathead.” He looked lean and fit. She liked that. He was also clean-cut. And although the glasses hid his handsome face somewhat, she had to admit they made him look hot.

  She always kind of liked nerdy guys — which was why she was attracted to him in high school, instead of his brother, whom everyone worshipped. She had never really liked Jesse. And she liked him even less after that night ... the night her sister died. She guessed it was because he had seemed privileged and worshipped. She knew Michael came from the same family but she had felt differently about him; he was an outsider looking in, just like she had been. Sure, she hung out with the cool kids but it was only because she played basketball. She did that so she could get a scholarship, which she did. But she always felt out of place. Maybe it was because she was poor, maybe it was because she was taller than everyone and a “Ginger.” Ginger was her nickname in high school, not one that she particularly enjoyed but it beat carrot top. Jesse Malone and his crew could be mean about it, despite his relationship with her sister. What made Michael any different?

  She had to remind herself that he hadn’t exactly been an insider in high school, either. He was always a solitary figure and was always busy working at the market. She wondered what he was doing now, and again, why he was in town? Why now?

  At least he had a good appreciation for food, she thought. She looked over and watched him eat his steak; he really looked like he was enjoying it. She went back to work on her menu for the next day. Then she looked over at Michael again. He had pushed his plate to the side and was just staring at his beer. She looked at the clock; it was already ten thirty. She hurriedly moved from her seat and got behind the bar. It was just the two of them in there.

  “So, how was the steak?” she asked.

  Michael had been deep in thought, but at the sound of her voice, he came to and said, “Oh, the steak was great, thank you. I really enjoyed it.”

  He looked around the bar, which was empty. What had he been doing all this time? He was off in space, thinking about what he was going to do for his family. Could he even help them after what his dad had said? He knew he had to. He also thought about Beth and how her black pencil skirt fit so snugly against her hips, and her white collared shirt really emphasized her long, lovely neck. And those eyes, that face, and her hair—.

  “Would you like anything else?” she asked.

  He came back to earth. He knew the bar closed at eleven on Mondays, so she probably wanted to get home to her boyfriend or husband. For some reason, the idea of her with another man waiting for her at home annoyed Michael. Not that he thought he had any right to feel that way.

  “A glass of water and the check would be great.”

  He should be good to drive, but after what had happened to Jesse, he was always extra cautious about drinking and driving. Living in New York he rarely had to worry about it, but whenever he traveled, he would always be mindful. Some people thought he wasn’t as fun as he could be because of it, but it mattered to him.

  She came back with the glass of water and Michael felt like he had worked up a little courage.

  She handed it to him and he said, “Thank you. I hope you don’t mind, is it okay if I just sit here and drink this for a little while before I drive? I know you probably want to get back to your boyfriend or husband, so if it’s a problem I can just go sit in my car for a bit.”

  Beth was so nervous all of a sudden. Husband or boyfriend? Was he hitting on her or just being polite? He didn’t seem to show interest before, but asking about whether she was attached was definitely a sign of interest. She felt he
r body grow warm and she felt what she always referred to as the body blush coming on. God, this was embarrassing.

  “Oh, no, no husband or boyfriend to rush home to. I’m very single ... I mean, stay as long as you like. I won’t be closing things out for another hour before I head home.” She stammered and blushed a deep red. Her face nearly matched her hair. She was embarrassed.

  ‘I’m very single’? Who says that! She could just kick herself.

  He could tell she was embarrassed, but it made her more endearing, he thought. “Thank you,” he said, as he smiled sadly.

  He was a mess, maybe if things could have been different, a woman like Beth would come home to him at night. But he had made choices that put him where he was today. Single, alienated from his family, and soon to be jobless. He chuckled to himself, he was also very single. It made him wonder what her story was. He stared down at his water, not knowing what he was going to do next.

  He stayed just sitting there for another half hour. She busied herself with closing the books and cleaning the bar, things she assumed her regular bar staff would be doing. It was kind of nice: the calm of it all, but all the customer interaction was not her favorite thing in the world. Although, if the customers were all like Michael, she decided it might not be too bad.

  Michael got up and walked over to the end of the bar to say goodnight to Beth. He brought over his glass, setting it down on the bar, and said to her, “Thanks so much for everything tonight. Here’s my glass and the check. Thanks again, I hope to see you soon.” Then he smiled and left.

  Beth stared after him. Michael seemed like a pleasant enough guy, handsome, just the right amount of nerdy, but she could just tell something was missing. He seemed deeply sad.

 

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