Once I’d driven west for a good hour, I pulled the truck over and grabbed a coin out of the ash tray.
“Heads is north. Tails is south.”
I flipped the coin in the air and watched as it landed on heads. Then I just sat there staring at it for a long time. I don’t know why I was questioning it, but something was telling me that heading north was a bad idea. Since all of my decisions were said to be bad, I figured to go against my better judgment and head there anyway. After all, I had plenty of time on my hands; time that was going to require me to think, which was something I really didn’t want to do.
Once I hit the Ohio border I started to feel tired. Since I had my own money, and plenty of it, I knew I could stop and get a room somewhere without having to count the change in my truck.
My phone had died, so asking my cell phone to find me a place to eat wasn’t an option. I had to follow the road signs and hope that I ended up at a good place, where I could at least have a beer and a hot meal.
Leave it to me to pick the most abandoned roads to travel on. It took nearly another whole hour before I came to any place that served food. The old roadhouse was located right off the main highway. The dim lit parking lot with only a few cars let me know that I was definitely still in the boonies.
Upon walking into the establishment, I spotted the bar and made my way over to it. A man, looking to be around my age came forward, giving me a once over, before taking my order. He handed me a menu while he went to grab me a beer. After ordering a steak, I took my beverage over to one of the tables located toward the back of the building. I wasn’t trying to be inconspicuous, because I knew I didn’t know anyone around. It was just that I didn’t want to be bothered with conversation.
While waiting for my food, I noticed a young woman arguing with the bartender. She was wearing a baseball cap that kept me from seeing her face. A long ponytail of dark brown hair was pulled through the back of the hat. The man was pointing his fingers in her face, and after a few choice words, she retreated into a back room.
About that same time I realized that I’d left my wallet in the glove compartment of my truck. I approached the bar, at first to let him know that I wasn’t skipping out on my bill, and then he had to run his mouth.
“Hey, I’ll be right back. My wallet is in the truck.”
“Sure, man. Did you hear that bitch just now? I tell ya, women are only good for one thing and that’s fucking. Other than that they need to keep their mouths shut.”
“We all have our opinions.” I wasn’t trying to start with the bartender. All I wanted was my meal and a couple drinks to calm me down, but drama always seemed to follow me, no matter where I went.
It only took a second for me to get what I needed from my truck. I’d grabbed my wallet and started making my way back into the restaurant when I saw the same girl leaned against the building. She was crying and had her hands over her face.
I had every intention of walking by her and minding my own business. I was already running from my own problems and had no interest in taking on someone else’s. With my hand on the door I heard her calling out to me. “Hey you. Got a light?”
She held a cigarette up to her lips while she waited.
I held up my hands. “No, I don’t. Smokin’s bad for you anyway, don’t you know that?”
“Waking up every morning is apparently bad for me. This little cigarette won’t do shit.”
“Bad day?” I don’t know why I asked, because I sure as hell didn’t care. Still, she was a female, and even though she was hiding it under baggy clothes, I could tell she had a nice figure.
She let out an air-filled laugh. “Bad everything.”
“Yeah, it’s goin’ around.” I started to turn to go back inside. “You know, don’t listen to that dick inside. He’s a douche.”
“Hold up.” She waited for me to look at her before continuing. “You’re not from around here are you?”
“Just passin’ through. Does it matter?”
I watched her arms cross over her chest. She looked down, denying me a chance to see the color of her eyes. It was funny to me how she was hiding her body with a loose t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. “This town sucks. I was just going to tell you to keep on driving. There’s nothing here worth stopping for. Trust me, I’ve been here my whole life.”
I should have just walked away. It wasn’t like I owed her or anyone else anything. After my meal I’d get in my truck and keep on driving. The highway would lead me to my future, I just knew it. “Sorry your havin’ a bad day. Mine hasn’t been all that great either. When it rains it fuckin’ pours.” I kicked a couple rocks around while I spoke, noticing that the music had stopped playing inside as the songs changed. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a dinner to eat.”
“Not if I don’t bring it out to you.” Her snarky words were without emotion.
“Now, why would you go and say that? You don’t even know me, so why make me suffer. It ain’t like I’m the one that pissed you off. In fact, I just told you that I had a shitty day.”
She shook her head. “Forget it! Your order will be out in a few minutes.”
She walked inside through the back door leaving me alone outside. I stood there for a few minutes looking at the cigarette on the ground. It wasn’t like I wanted one, but more that wanted something to take the edge off of how I was feeling. My temper was still flaring even hours after my altercation with my father. If I remained tense, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep later on.
As soon as I got back inside I order a couple shots of whiskey, before making my way back to my seat.
Just like she’d promised, my steak dinner was delivered. Even in the poor lit establishment I could finally see her face enough to know that she was cute and maybe not as young as I’d first assumed. While handing me the shots I noticed that she bit her fingernails. It made me think about my sister, Christian. Though extremely beautiful, she never could kick that habit. When I was finally settled somewhere I would call her and have her come visit me.
“Is there anything else I can get ya?” Though the question was directed to me, I couldn’t shake that the attitude attached to it wasn’t. She kept looking at the guy who was bartending.
“I’m good.” I took a bite of my steak and noticed my shot glasses were empty. “How about you bring me a couple more of these?”
She grabbed the glasses and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
A loud crash at the bar a few seconds later caught my attention. I turned to see the girl and guy having words again, but the music was playing and I couldn’t make out what they were saying from so far away. A couple minutes later the guy wiped off his hands and walked out, after saying a few choice words that I was able to make out.
Aside from a few people sitting at the counter drinking, there wasn’t anyone else there. The girl walked over to the corner of the bar and leaned on it, putting her head down where nobody could see. When she stood up straight she had this happy look on her face. I’d seen a lot of crazy bitches in my life, but none that acted the way she was.
The smile was still there when she delivered my next two shots. “Here you go. Two shots of whiskey.”
I looked down and noticed that there were three. “Um, there’s an extra one here.”
“Oh that one’s for me.” She picked it up and held it out in front of me. “Here’s to assholes that hold us back from our dreams.”
I almost spit the whiskey across the room. Her toast hit so close to home, but I knew she couldn’t possibly know what I was going through. I took the second shot quickly and handed them both to her without another word. As intrigued as I was, I knew I couldn’t get involved.
Her advice was for me to keep driving, and that’s exactly what I planned on doing.
Shalan
As if my day couldn’t get any shittier, my brother had decided that getting a piece of ass was more important than helping me close up the bar. Who knew when he’d come back, if he did at all,
though I couldn’t blame him for that part.
If the establishment hadn’t been my only source of income I would have walked away a long time ago, but since my uncle owned it, we all felt obligated to spend every waking moment making sure it didn’t burn to the ground.
It wasn’t like tonight was any different than others. My brother often ran out for pussy, leaving me to wrangle up the town drunks and make sure they couldn’t locate where I’d hid their keys, at least until they sobered up.
At least this night had come with an added bonus.
It was rare for us to see travelers, since we were located off the main route. I was surprised to spot a very handsome man walking in, and more shocked to notice that he obviously didn’t want to socialize. While he made his way to the farthest seat in the place, I studied his body language, trying to catch a vibe as to why he was there and what for. Not that it even mattered. He’d be gone by morning and the town would be just as boring as it was every other day.
I thought back to a time when my dreams seemed like they could come true; a time when I didn’t understand the concept of money, and how much of it I would actually need to make it on my own. This was also before I started dating Rex, and decided that my dreams could wait.
That was one year ago to the day. I remember because it was also the anniversary of the day that my mother died of breast cancer. I’d only been thirteen when it happened, but it had scarred me for life, especially since my good-for-nothing daddy stopped being a parent to me.
Though I still saw him on occasion, I rarely even spoke of the man, more less depended on him to take care of me when times got tough. I’d been taking care of myself since the day she died, and probably even before that.
My dad was bitter, and withdrawn. He’d given up on himself, which in turn trickled down to my older brother and then to me. I wish I could say that my brother was around to help guide me in the right direction, but being that he’s six years older than me, he was already in college on a scholarship that wouldn’t allow him to take time off, or care for a kid sister that he had nothing in common with except for a little blood.
You see, we may have shared DNA, but that’s about all it was. My dad wasn’t his father, and after being reminded of it a thousand times, my brother was adamant about cutting him off completely.
That left me alone with him.
The picture is even less pretty when I admit to the many times my dad came home drunk and confused that I was my mother. A stiff kick in the balls would free me from what was about to take place, but it didn’t help with the fear I had of living under the same roof with a monster.
Throughout high school I kept my problems bottled up so that no one would see. I knew that my father was a bad man, albeit feared what kind of person I’d have to live with if the state put me in foster care.
It wasn’t until my senior year that my brother showed up at my door. After so long thinking that I had nobody, he told me that we had an uncle, who happened to be living in our town. He’d cut off our mother from the family when she’d run off and eloped with my father. It was also the reason why he’d never come looking for me. He didn’t know I existed. He’d moved out of state and since come home to manage his wife’s father’s saloon. When my brother came back he stopped in for a drink and recognized my uncle after so many long years of not knowing him.
One would think that living in the same small town would provide little to no secrets. Our town was the exception. My father kept my mom at home, first caring for me, and then to take care of herself when she started to get sick, when I was around the age of seven. She never once mentioned her brother, or had pictures to prove that a sibling existed.
I don’t know if she ever reached out to him, and he’s never mentioned if she did.
After we met I had a million questions; the first being could I come live with them. I was almost eighteen and wanted to get away from my dad. With no money, and nothing lined up, I knew I was stuck.
Not only did my uncle let me move in, but he also offered me a job. I’ll never forget the day I packed my things and walked out of my house. I never said goodbye, or told him where I was going. In fact, I still don’t think he knows my uncle is back, and that we are in touch with each other.
The last time I saw my dad was this morning at the graveyard. He tried to hug me, but I pulled away before we connected. The older I got the more disgusted with him I became. What man drinks so much that he thinks his daughter is his dead wife? It repulses me.
Thinking about my dad brought me back to why I was so pissed off. Not only had my boyfriend forgot about the importance of the day, but he’d blown me off to hang out with friends.
I should have known he was bad news when we got together, because that’s all I’ve ever been attracted to. I want a guy that I work hard to get; one that treats me like shit, but keeps expecting more.
It was my nature by fault, and I didn’t know how to change it. The only good thing that came out of it was that I never expected a man to save me from myself. I knew how I was and I’d accepted it.
The only real downfall to setting my standards so low was that at times like these I needed support. I needed a shoulder to cry on, and the reminder that I wasn’t alone in the world. Sure, I had friends and even some family, but they’d walk away from my problems for their own petty needs without a single ounce of guilt.
That’s what ripped me apart inside.
It was probably a bad idea to feed a complete stranger so many shots. Usually I wasn’t so negligent when it came to patrons. Going to jail for serving someone alcohol and them getting in a wreck wasn’t my idea of a good time. After the seventh shot for him, and second for myself, I’d decided that he’d drank enough.
We’d spoke briefly, and both times I was sure I wasn’t exactly friendly. My mood was tampered by my shitty life, and knowing that I’d never get out of this town to pursue what I really wanted to do.
I approached the customer and noticed that his eyes were drooping. Where he’d worn a frown before was now replaced with a cool smile. His white teeth were perfect, and I almost wondered if they were fake. Though he was wearing a hat, I could tell he had thick dark hair. Then there were those eyes. My god, I’d never seen green eyes like his before. “You comin’ over for another round, darlin’?”
His words…
That accent…
He gave me butterflies when he spoke to me, which was so unusual. I dealt with men every day, and not even my boyfriend could get a response like that. “Actually, I was coming to give you your bill. I think you’ve had enough to drink.”
He grabbed my arm before I got a hold of the shot glasses that were empty on the table. “Just a couple more and then I’ll be on my way.”
I pulled away from him as a natural reflex. Too often I was being approached with random drunks from town. They reminded me of my dad and I always got nauseous.
Except this was different. His focused eyes stayed on mine. “You’re already way over the legal limit. I think it’s best for both of us if you had a couple glasses of water.”
“You got any Doritos? I love eatin’ those fuckin’ things after I’ve been out partyin’.”
He wiped his face, so awkwardly that he almost missed it completely. He definitely couldn’t pass a sobriety test.
“I’ve got pretzels and water.” I turned to walk away and he grabbed the back pocket to my jeans, pulling me back towards him. When I fell down on his lap, after losing my balance, I shot up and was prepared to smack him. He covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry,” he slurred. “I just need a minute to think.”
I placed my hands on my hips and waited for him to say something else. Instead, he stood up and then fell back down in the chair. “Did you put drugs in my drink? I don’t do drugs. What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ wearin’ such crap? I bet you’re beautiful without a disguise,” he slurred.
It was funny to me how this drunk stranger somehow understood why I dressed th
at way for work. The less skin and figure that I showed, the safer I was around a bunch of intoxicated, belligerent fools. It wasn’t like my brother cared if I was abducted and sexually assaulted. He’d made that obvious when he started leaving me to close up shop without him.
“Water and pretzels would be nice.” Finally he relaxed in the chair again.
When I got back to the bar I noticed that money had been left on the counter and all of the other customers had gone. The clock was nearing midnight and I felt comfortable that nobody else would be stopping by for a drink. After locking the outside door from people coming in, I served the drunk guy pretzels and a bottle of water, and started cleaning up.
After a while I forgot that he was still there. I mean, in the back of my mind I knew I wasn’t alone, but he was so out of it that it wasn’t like I had good company.
The jukebox had stopped playing a mixed variety of music for a while, and I hated the quiet, so I started to do what I did best; what I did every night that I closed out the bar.
I sang a song that I wrote for my mother. I’d sang it earlier in the cemetery and every year on the same day. She was my angel, the one person who understood what I was put on the earth to do. She made me promise that I’d never stop singing, and I couldn’t let her down, no matter how hard life got, I couldn’t stop.
“Why’d you have to leave me,
Out in the cold so alone and afraid.
I’ve done my best with what I’ve been given,
I’ll never feel ashamed.
I know you’re out there watching,
Making sure that I don’t fall.
Life without you, Momma,
Feels like no life at all.”
Clapping made me jump and stop singing.
The stranger was standing, well leaning, on a stool on the other side of the bar from me. “That was amazin’. Do it again.”
Noah Page 6
