The Bartender

9

I woke up this morning feeling level-headed, moderately refreshed and a slight ache in my right bandaged foot.

The heavy curtains in the sitting room were drawn shut—it wasn’t the night before and the only way I could tell it was morning was the sight of the sun rays that poured in through the mullioned kitchen windows. I blinked once, twice and sighed as I inhaled a mixture of sweet and greasy scent that wafted from the kitchen; the sound of a child’s laughter and bad singing seemed to have roused me entirely from my sleep.

Pushing away the blanket I had on me, I slowly paced through the hallways, carefully shifting all the pressure and weight to my left leg. And what I saw, I’d never expect to see it at all. Judah had his back turned while singing along to lyrics that he had probably never heard of because he was singing all the wrong lyrics, with all ten fingers shaped like claws and attempting to climb up some invisible ladder and Max squealed in laughter as he tried to scare her.

The itsy-bitsy spider. 

I leaned my arm against the kitchen corridor as I watched the two of them bond—the child had all five of her stubby fingers in what looked like waffle batter and the fellow adult struggling to follow along the lyrics whilst flipping over bacon in the pan once he realized there was a burnt smell after being distracted.

The scene was vaguely familiar; I remember being a part of something similar when I was much younger, when Kat and I were in the kitchen on Sunday mornings with our dad making breakfast for mom who’d be still in bed. It was our little weekend ritual together. Well, that was another unnecessary trip down memory lane. 

“Aunt Ronnie!” Max exclaimed excitedly. Judah craned his neck over his shoulder; the playful smile disappeared almost immediately and was replaced with a lazy, boyish grin. “Oh good, Godzilla’s awake.” 

“Morning Aunt Ronnie!” Max greeted and insisted I gave her a kiss on her forehead where she pointed.

“And we’re right back on track with the impertinence.” I rolled my eyes playfully as I approached the two, kissing Max quickly on her forehead and grabbed a glass nearby and filled it to the brim, chugging it down. 

“Of course. What? Did you think I was cozying up to you already?” he said nonchalantly, using the spatula to dish out the cooked bacon strips on a paper towel. That looked good. 

“Oh of course, I can’t put that kind of pressure on you; god forbid that would drain all energy from you just to be nice to just about anyone.” I sarcastically replied, reaching for a slice of apple that was perfectly cut up. “I can’t say that you’re wrong.” he pointed out. 

“Are you whipping up breakfast for the whole neighborhood or you just have a crazy appetite for a large amount of food in the mornings?” I said, reaching for a second slice of apple.

“Have I told you that you’re an unappreciative woman?” he stepped forward towards me and I held my breath just as a hand reached around my waist…just to grab the plate of piling, cooked waffles.

“Only every other day.” I managed blandly after he took a step back and observed my foot which he had bandaged. “How’s your foot?” he asked.

“Never been better.” I smiled appreciatively at him. “Hey, thanks for staying the night. Think I’ve caused you enough trouble in the last month because of my family, with what’s been going on and everything—I think I’ve taken up way too much of your time from work.” I trailed, rubbing my arms uncomfortably. 

“Hey, weren’t you the one who said that I was a do-gooder despite that devil facade I put up? Guess you were right after all.”

I was about to interrupt but he stopped me. “Don’t you say something like how you’re always right in the end or I told you so.”

“I wasn’t gonna.” I denied, trying my best to suppress a smile. “I made you coffee.” Satisfied, he turned around and pointed at the coffee maker by the microwave. 

“Aunt Ronnie, Uncle Judah’s making us honey waffles for breakfast.”

“Why, it seems like it sweetheart, and frankly I’m surprised you’re up this…” I glanced around for a clock, it was above the fridge stuck high up to the wall—it was almost 7. “Early.” I stated, surprised. “I woke Uncle Judah because I was hungry. He made me milk in a bottle.” Max said bashfully, shielding her face with her tiny fingers. “I’ve never been woken up by a kid before.” Judah tore a piece of waffle from the piling plate and passed it to Max. “So that’s a first.” 

“And how’d you know how to make a child’s milk formula?” I asked, trying my best not to make a mockery out of the man who tried his best with baby food.

“I figured it was as easy as mixing alcoh—adult drinks—” His eyes darted quickly to Max who was looking back and forth curiously between the both of us. Judah and I had been careful with the choice of words around a 3-year-old and let me tell you, it was a real struggle but, I also want to say we’re getting pretty good at it. Whoever said parenting was a walk in the park can go fu…fly away. I meant to say fly away. 

“And it was.” He finished proudly. 

“Is that so?” I asked skeptically. 

“It tis’ so.” He said in a mock English accent which earned him a chuckle from me.

“Alright then, I think it’s time to get you cleaned up. Have you gone potty, little human?” I asked, wiping off the streaks of dried batter from her cheeks.

“Yes, Aunt Ronnie.” Max said quickly, munching on the little bit of cooked dough happily. 

Head tilted and a brow raised, I waited for the truth. “No Aunt Ronnie, I haven’t gone potty.” Max guiltily admitted, to which Judah chuckled softly. “Come on, you need a bath and a change of clothes. You’ve been wearing that onesie all of yesterday.”

“Up.” She held out both her arms, wanting to be lifted once more. I did not hesitate and reached for her. “Uncle Judah, you’re not leaving yet, aren’t you?” she asked suddenly, turning her head around for the fear she might not see him again. Please don’t tell these two are already attached to each other?

I looked at him almost innocently, unsuspecting of the question my niece had just popped, for some reason my heart quickened awaiting his response. “I’m not going anywhere Max. I’ll be right here when you’re done cleaning up.” He promised, sticking out his pinkie finger. 

“You do know children hold you very seriously to every promise you make right?” I warned as Max reached over my shoulder, tugging Judah’s finger. Judah remained silent. 

“Okay, hurry Aunt Ronnie! I want my waffles!” Max wiggled in my embrace, gesturing me to speed up but my bruised feet did not allow me. “Slow down sweetheart, didn’t Uncle Judah say he’ll be done cleaning the kitchen when we get back down here?” I grinned whilst turning around to look over my shoulder, treading carefully toward the stairs with my good foot. “I believe that’s not what I said Ronnie.” Judah remarked, flipping over a waffle in its maker. 

There were two things I was certain this morning, one—Judah was great with kids and two—he made my stone-cold heart skip a beat. 

Max was so eager to leave the bathroom the second she stepped into it. I placed her carefully into the bathtub and glanced at the shower taps, making a mental note to test the temperature on my wrist first. This wasn’t my first rodeo in bath time. 

The whole living space was relatively unfamiliar to me, despite Kat and I being family, I hardly ever visited. Yes, and that bit was true. We were living two very different lives—busy ones. She was always in the air; I was always on land. Did I just make us sound like ancient Greek gods?

The only time I came over here was because of important family events. She insisted that I show up—birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Max’s baby shower…

“Aunt Ronnie, are you okay?” Max’s little voice piped, ridding me of my scattered thoughts. “Yes sweetheart, let me just get the water running and I’ll need that onesie of yours. I’ll get it washed today and you can wear it later tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She replied sweetly, her pout no longer present. She picked up one of the yellow rubber ducks from the basket of bath toys, squeezing it gently and out came a squeaking sound as I lathered her with her favorite strawberry body wash. “Max, keep still please.” I laughed lightly when she began wriggling like a worm. Max spun around like a little playful elf, sprinkling soap and water on me while she sang a bunch of random words. 

“Mommy loves giving me baths.” She said suddenly mid-song. “And daddy bought these for me.” Max displayed the rubber duck on her palm, it fell since her palm was too small. She crouched, picked up the duck and lined it with the rest carefully while I styled her shampooed hair upright. She laughed looking at her reflection through the large mirror. “This is a mommy duck, daddy duck and baby duck.” Max said slowly, pointing at them one after another. 

“Yes sweetheart.” I said, trying my best to swallow the big fat lump at the back of my throat at the reminder of my big sister as a bath toy. The two were beginning to mimic each other’s actions well. 

“Aunt Ronnie, something’s missing.” Max scrunched her little faint brows hair together, her eyes squinting at the lined-up yellow ducks. That look reminded me of Judah and how he looked when he was busy deducing something. 

“I need to get another two rub…” she said as she caught her breath—Max does this whenever she says one too many words all one after another. “Two ducks.” She finished, splashing me once more with water as she turned around. “Why’d you need so many for, darling?”

“Well, one duck is for you and another duck is for Uncle Judah.” She said as a matter-of-factly, her features boasted with pride at the fact she knew how to count. “Two!” she put out three fingers. 

“Sweetheart...” I sighed, taking one stubby finger in mine and stacked them with her two other resting ones. “Well, the thing about Uncle Judah, he’s not going to be…”

“Hey, Jackie just called.” The muffled voice bounced off the cedar doors and my speech dangled midair. Jackie eventually found out about Judah especially when he had been coming around much often when I was in a mess—the two introduced themselves and the rest was history. “Yeah, what about?” I called back, rinsing out the very last soap suds off Max’s hair. 

“She wants to know if you’d…well, we’d like to have brunch with her later.” 

Yes it has now come to this, apparently in the last two weeks, Jackie had made sure Judah checked-in on me every now and then since she couldn’t do it herself (she had my mom  under her watch).

“Aunt Jackie!” Max squealed excitedly, knocking the three ducks off their straight line altogether as she turned around quickly, her drenched hair splashing water in my face. “I miss Aunt Jackie!”

“I’ll be right out.” I said quickly, dabbing my face with my sleeve and made a face at Max who giggled. Turning off the tap, I grabbed a clean bathrobe from the stack of towels and wrapped it around Max’s tiny frame, making sure she was dry and warm.

The three-year-old shuffled out the door quickly and ran past Judah and right into her opened wardrobe, disappearing into it—she was about to pick her outfit of the day. “You’re wet.” He commented, holding out the phone for me. “Excuse me?” I frowned, taking the device from him, glancing at black screen then back at him. 

“I meant your clothes Ronnie. What did you think I was referring to?” he said, his lips slanted upwards, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, ignoring the slight tingling feeling that was forming in my palm. “Of course, you wish that were to happen.”

“Honestly Ronnie, I don’t have to wish for it. I’d know if you were to— “Judah was leaning in rather closely when Max jumped out of her closet with mismatched colors and a top that she wore inside out. “I’m all dressed!” she cried. We jerked apart as if we were behaving inappropriately. 

“What…is that combo?” Judah asked quietly under his breath and I smacked him hard in the chest. 

“She’s a child Judah. Let her wear whatever she wants.” 

“You expect me to believe you’d allow your niece to dress as such in public?” Judah asked with a skeptical look on his face, trying his best to keep a straight face watching Max do a little twirl. “Course not.” I snapped silently. “Honey, come here.”  I wiggle my fingers. 

“No!” she squeals.

“You can’t wear that Max…”

“No!” she said indignantly. 

“Judah, get the door!”

“Yes ma’am.” 

“Noooo!”

Scratch that, I made a third conclusion of the morning—a three-year-old can easily outrun two full grown adults when threatened on a wardrobe change.

**

“Well well, look what Santa dropped so early in the year.” Jackie rose from her seat, wriggled her fingers at Max and I can’t help but roll my eyes. According to Jackie, we looked very much like a small, happy family that was brought together by chance...or misfortune in my case. I told her she’s getting in and over her head while she told me it was only a matter of time. When questioned what she meant, she says, “I’m speaking life into it.”

“Nice outfit Max.” Jackie raised her brows at the sight of rainbow socks, hot pink trousers with white polka dots and a blue shirt that had the cookie monster print on it. “Thanks Aunt Jackie! I picked it myself.” She said proudly, climbing into the adult chair on her own. “Oh, I thought a blind Sunday school teacher did.” Jackie said under her breath. 

“A little harsh there Jackie.” I chided as Judah pulled out a chair for me before looking around for a baby highchair. Jackie sent me a simpering smile. “You look great honey.” Jackie changed her mind just as quickly as she kissed Max on her chubby cheeks.  

Jackie reached inside her bag, dug around before she pulled out a book, of which the title of it made me raise my brows theatrically just after a quick glance. “’Mommy and me’, really?”

“It was either this or grandma and me on the shelves, take it or leave it.” Jackie grinned, gesturing her fingers to the waiter and he seemed to understand her. “Now, if you’re going to ask me if I’m okay, I can assure you I am.” I said, grabbing the napkin from the table and flinging it over my lap. I watched Judah put Max into a baby high chair without any tantrum from Max. The two absolutely adored each other. 

Jackie pursed her lips and her eyes met Judah’s who gave her a silent, knowing nod. The two have been careful about bringing up any topic that would relate to Kat and I knew then, it wasn’t just me who was having a hard time. I was grateful that they were so considerate of my feelings and emotions and there are times where I rather hide it and put on a strong front for the sake of them, for Max. 

Kat and my brother-in-law’s sudden passing had been hard on us all and I wasn’t so sure when this whole feeling of emptiness would ever pass when I had a reminder of my sister in the form of a child.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with your penthouse yet?” Jackie suddenly asked—I knew she was making an effort to change the topic. She glanced away from Max who now had a coloring book with her, scribbling away with her fingers wrapped around a washable marker.

“Honestly, no.” I simply said, reaching for the glass of water that was poured by a passing waitress. “I planned for everything else except the house. I mean, there’s the move, Max moving up a grade class soon and that Wellington project at work…” I trailed. 

“Oh don’t even get me started on work.” Jackie suddenly groaned. “That little t**t Pitkowski has set his eyes on that Wellington project and he’s determined to have the boss pass it to him but guess what did our beloved saint of a boss say?” she said smugly.

“Go for it?” I offered with my brows raised. Judah frowned, curious.  

Jackie smirked, reaching over as she planted both palms over Max’s ears before repeating the words that my boss had said. “Pitkowski, if you so much as dare to touch Veronica’s project, I will cut your balls off and hang them as ornaments this coming Christmas in our magnificent new lobby. Now, that’s a way to make you feel important.”

Judah chuckled, reaching for his glass. “I’d work for this guy.” He chimed. “No, you wouldn’t want to.” Jackie and I said in unison. “Honestly, you’d kill the man before you let him get to you.” I added simply. Don Pearson is just a pig headed and arrogant as you are.” 

“Oh and you’re handling that man flawlessly?” Judah questioned, looking at me deadpanned. “Hey, don’t bring me into this. I have nothing but love for this man.” I said.

“You really need to work on your sarcasm sweetheart.”

Jackie nodded in agreement. “Having worked with him in the last 3 years taught me everything I need to know about how a man’s ball sac might look after being squashed and a whole variety of things that I would rather not say at the dining table.”

“Oh don’t forget about how he mentioned he’d used someone’s floor plans to wipe his ass because it was total s**t. Pun intended.” I pondered thoughtfully. Max looked up at the adults. “Are you saying bad words again?” she asked innocently with her ears still covered. 

“Oh no, sweetheart.” Jackie reassured her, “we were just talking about your little birthday surprise.” 

Judah shook his head in disapproval and I can’t help but roll my eyes at how Jackie could lie to kids without blinking. “My birthday?” Max’s little ears perked as Jackie moved her hands away. 

“Yes sweetheart, would you like a bouncy castle?”

“Jackie!” I hissed. “She’s three.”

“Please tell me you do remember when the kid’s birthday is.” Judah said under his breath as Max dropped her marker excitedly on the table and squealed as she spoke to herself on the long list of fun things she’d want at her birthday. Somewhere along the lines, I heard a dinosaur. 

“Oh please, can we have that pinata thing? Or at least have a water balloon fight if we’re not getting a pinata!” Jackie tapped her chin thoughtfully as she ransacked her brain trying to recall all the fun things she wanted to do as a kid but never got to. “A petting zoo!” Max threw in the idea. 

“Honey, I don’t think your Aunt Ronnie would want a monkey in your garden.” Jackie made space for the waiter who lay out the food on the table. Smoked salmon and avocado slices in a large croissant, truffle oil drizzled on mushrooms on pieces of baguette, pulled pork drizzled with barbecue sauce with mashed potatoes and salad as sides, plain salted fries in a basket with cut up sausages for Max and coffees.  

“Well sure, if you were the birthday girl, maybe you’d get to call the shots.” Judah shrugged casually, earning an eye roll from Jackie and snigger from me as I reached for my bag, pulling out a baby’s bib for Max while Judah prepared utensils fit for a toddler.

“There there sour puss, maybe the adults could use your bartending skills at the party, I’d imagine the parents would love to have a little adult activity of their own that includes more alcohol and a little less talking.” Jackie mused to which Judah folded his arms. “And this is coming from a woman who doesn’t have or want children.” I mumbled under my breath. 

“Hey I heard that.”

Just like that, my afternoon didn’t feel so sullen anymore. I won’t deny that last night has really got me crumbling once more after listening to that voicemail from Kat. I thought hearing her voice one last time would bring some comfort to me, but it did the opposite so yeah, I have a feeling that would be the first and the last time I’d ever replay that voicemail. 

I wasn’t doing this for me; I was also doing it for Max. What she needed wasn’t an aunt, she needed a mother. 

Oh, who am I kidding? I knew not the first thing about being a mother. Are there classes for this sort of thing?