The Bartender

13

The house was eerily silent, except for the occasional clanging of the wooden spatula hitting the ceramic pot filled with milk that was being reheated again on the stove and the continuous ticking of the wall clock. I stared aimlessly out of the c***k of the window I had left open, my thoughts drowned along with the crickets singing in the late evening; I was so lost I did not hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Great, is the pizza delivery guy here yet?”

I jumped and bit out a quiet cuss.

“I guess not.” He kissed the back of my head as some sort of consolation for giving me that little jump scare.

“You ordered pizza?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

“Yeah, just thought we could use a snack for a late-night in.” Judah casually shrugged and instinctively brought out two mugs from the dish cabinet and had them rinsed. “I think I’d hit the sack much earlier than I planned.”

“Really?” he questioned. “You sure you’re not just distracted?”

“Yes, really.” I faked a yawn. He dropped the two mugs and slowly approached me and paused just right behind me. I froze, my hand held the wooden spatula for life support as he reached his arm, brushing my elbow purposely and reached for the stove.

“Well then, you must be really tired to even notice that you didn’t turn on the stove at all.” He flicked the knob with ease, the gas turned to fire, roaring to life. He then backed away with amusement plastered on his lips.

“What?”

My eyes dropped to the stove and the pot was now room temperature.

“It’s alright, I figured you had questions to ask, and I needed to talk to you.”

“But that’s not your ‘asking’ face, that’s the face of interrogation.” I pointed at him. “Face of…what I don’t have a…”

“Yes, you do, the way your brows start to stitch together and your forehead creases, and look at your lips…”

“What’s with them?”

“They’ve curled! You’re about to interrogate me.”

“I’m not about to interrogate you with those curled lips, I would rather k—”

His sentence was cut off by a knock on the door. Both heads were turned, and we looked at one another. “It must be the pizza guy at the door,” I whispered.

Judah reluctantly peeled his eyes away from me, but before he walked away, he whispered, “We’re not done here.” He said in a low warning tone. I felt my cheeks burn, so I looked away, glad to occupy myself with the milk slowly starting to boil.

A quiet exchange of a box of hot dough and cash, the door shut quietly and Judah returned to the kitchen and popped open the box. Steam wafted out almost immediately and my stomach began to growl.

“Extra pepperoni and cheese, just the way you like them.” He announced quietly. “But let’s keep it down alright? Max will come running down if she hears there’s pizza.” He added.

“I thought you liked having her around.”

“I do, but adults do need some alone time to themselves too.” He winked.

“I’m not about to argue with you about that.”

Warm milk and pizza, what a weird combination. But we had it anyway as a late-night supper in the kitchen fifteen minutes past ten thirty. “Ronnie, back at the bar with what happened, I just have to ask.” Judah toyed around with a slice of pepperoni on his slice while I dragged the cheese as long as I could from the first bite, testing how long it could go.

“Yeah?”

“Does that happen often to you at work? What with your subordinates not knowing how to act?”

I shook my head and struggled to chew without looking like I was messing around with him at the question he had just posed. “No.” But I knew he was asking about one person in specific.

“Sam has never acted that way,” I quickly said. “I mean, as far as I’m concerned, there have been no reports of him acting out on a fellow female colleague either way.”

“But seeing what he did to you earlier tonight—” his jaw tightened a few good seconds before he relaxed once more. “Seeing him touch you in that disgusting manner has made me rather…”

“Uneasy?” I offered

“Furious, Ronnie. I was furious.”

“Oh.” I quickly swallowed.

“That is no way to treat a woman. I should have allowed Kale to arrest him there and then, you know that prick deserves it.” He reasoned. I dropped my slice of my half-eaten pizza back on the box.

“Judah, me letting this slide doesn’t mean I’d just shrug it off like that, neither do I condone behavior as such. I agree that women should not be treated as such and being drunk on his part isn’t and should not be an excuse for such a display of behavior. But Sam has never acted out as such, not at work, not to anyone I’ve heard of.”

“You sound like you’re siding with this prick just because he’s never slipped up before at work. How do you know if he’s not done this to someone else?”

“You’ve not let me finish.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Human Resources personnel was at the table as well, she got him fired with immediate effect. I just didn’t feel the need to further cause a scene at the bar since the decision had been made right there and then. There was no need to resort to violence, it could cost you your reputation at the bar.”

He stared at me like I had just grown a second head. I was growing self-conscious at each passing minute. He was silent.

“Why are you looking at me as if I told you I stole your favorite shirt?”

“You just went through all that because you were busy thinking about what could happen to me?” he asked blankly. “Why?”

“Because I care about you.” I stated simply, picking at the melted string of mozzarella and pulling it. “Just like how you care for Max and I.”

He was silent. “So can we let that slide please?”

He nodded albeit his brows were scrunched, internally debating in his thought process whether to pursue this further. There was a long pause dangling in the air as we ate our pizzas. Every now and then my eyes glanced sideways, thinking whether it was the right time to ask.

“I could literally hear the cogwheels whirling about in your head. Care to share?”

I bit down on my lip hard, slightly embarrassed he could read my thoughts so easily. “So, the woman at the bar… is she someone you’re seeing?”

Great, now you sound like a jealous little girlfriend, except that you’re not his girlfriend, you’re his nobody. I wanted to smack myself now for even bringing that up.

He looked up from his first and half-eaten pizza. For someone who ordered the snack, he definitely was not hungry. I’m starting to guess that the pizza served more as a distraction just so it mellowed down the confrontation that was brewing.

“The ex-wife in the flesh. She shows up unannounced when there clearly wasn’t anything to catch up on.”

“I’m sure there’s a lot to catch up on. It’s not like things ended really badly between the two of you.”

“The factor that split us up wasn’t such a big deal, but she blew it up and made it worse than it sounds. She wanted me to leave and so I did.” he blew out a low whistle.

My mind floated back to the time when Judah had told me all about his ex-wife. Time spent with each other was constrained, it strained the relationship. Hence, it ended with a divorce. Sometime later, we crossed paths. It was no love at first sight, more like I-hated-your-guts-the-moment-I-laid-eyes-on-you.

But things are fine now between Judah and I—I mean we’re friends, aren’t we?

Friends who are co-parenting a child that isn’t even theirs, who’s playing house every other day, who sleeps over when the child wants a ‘father figure’ to be present and even her best friend thinks they look good together, they might as well be married.

Heck, although she’s always brushing him away, telling him to get back to work and she can handle the child alone, in reality, she secretly wants him around because she feels safe, wanted, complete. And after some time went by, whenever he wasn’t around, she found herself secretly yearning for his presence and loved having him around her kitchen, around Max, around the lawn where they played ball, and sometimes, dreamed of having him even in her bedroom.

She wasn’t so sure if Max was the one who needed him or it was she who really needed him.

“The amount of time you spend with Max and I, do you think, perhaps, you’re compensating for something you should have done? Except with someone else, of course, since you could no longer do it with your ex-wife?”

“You might want to explain that a little more, Ronnie.”

“What I’m trying to say is, if your ex-wife voiced out her concern to you, did you at least try to make it work?”

“Make it work? How was I going to make it work if she was yelling at me every other day when I got home from work? That woman was…extraordinary to say the least, maybe even insane.”

I’ve never known the woman; I’ve only seen her once tonight. And from woman to woman, I just know we always say things we don’t mean. Especially when she tells the love of her life to leave. So maybe, I got a little defensive, but not for her benefit, but for mine.

“Put it this way, things are always at their best state when you’re fresh into a relationship. You’re so in love, the s*x is good, you’re both crazy for each other. Then, as time passes, further down the road, more responsibilities start appearing, possibly kids along the way. The both of you get cranky at each other and maybe secretly want to murder each other in your sleep too and you pick out every little detail you don’t like about the person that causes a strain in your relationship, but maybe if you could remember the reason why you two got together in the first place…” I trailed, my stomach feeling slightly queasy. Not at the pizza, but more of the onslaught of emotions that were churning. “Things wouldn’t need to end.”

He studied me for a long moment before deciding what he should say. Was I trying to get him to fix his broken relationship with his ex-wife? No. Was I trying to play a relationship therapist? No.

“Why do I have this feeling you’re not talking about my divorce but instead, heading for something else?” he looked slightly disconcerted. “And just so you know, not everything needs fixing, sometimes some relationships just don’t work out and it happens.”

The pizzas were completely abandoned, and I was pretty sure the milk that was once warm, became cold once more. The ticking sound from the wall clock became more deafening with each passing second.

“Look, I appreciate whatever you’re doing for Max and me, but I can’t help but feel, at some point, it could be some sort of compensation for how you were treating me before this—cold and aloof. And after my sister died, you’re this whole new person who’s taking care of a stranger and her niece. We’ve been playing house for as long as I can remember and I can’t help but feel afraid that now, when I’m so used to having you around, someday you might stop showing up because you realize that both of us are an added chore to you, that you might just walk away because I told you so.”

I stood up from my seat, feeling the rush of heat through my ears and a lump formed painfully at the back of my throat. I found it hard to swallow. I was about to cry. Why the heck was I about to cry?

“I’m afraid, the more I get dependent on you, the more we are dependent on you, you might find us burdensome. But the only difference between us is that you get the choice to walk away and I don’t when things get difficult. Max is my responsibility, not yours, and it should be the least of your worries.”

“Well, don’t I get a say in any of this?” he asked, looking somewhat tense, for he too, got off from his seat.

“What could you possibly have to say about this?” I choked, unwilling to cry in front of him once more, for I know I’ve done that plenty of times now, he would have gotten used to it. However, all this pent-up uncertainty, this…new change that I’m going through and having someone to share it with, someone whom I’m not even sure what he’d like to be.

Okay, the truth is, I was afraid of catching feelings (even though I had basically given up on love), yet part of me would still argue it was because I did not meet the right person just yet. But believe me when I say, after going through so much, one hurt after another, you,voluntarily and unknowingly, have given up on the hope of the one thing you wanted the most, the one thing you never knew you needed the most.

Judah frowned as he spoke, “I’m not staying because I feel like I have something making up to do. I’m staying because I want to and I’m most certainly not doing all this out of pity because I do not see you as a charity case. I like being around Max and I like being around you. But I’m most certainly disappointed that you think I’d walk away from all of this just because things get hard.”

“You did walk away from your previous marriage when things got hard. What makes you think this will be any different? What makes you think I’m any different than her?” I said in a frosty tone, backing away.

“Because you are not her!” he said succinctly, taking a step forward towards me. “In fact, I’d like to think I was being considerate of your feelings because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it if I told you I wanted to stay for the long run, but it seems to me, clear as day that you don’t want me around.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” I clenched my jaw tightly at the blatant lie. He wants to stay, so why not let him?

“I’ve only known you for as long as I can remember, I don’t know you just yet. I’ve barely touched the surface of your personal life, but you’ve seen everything that needs to be seen in mine. You have leverage on your end and I don’t!”

Because if he leaves, I'll have to pick up exactly from where I had left off. Broken.

“Leverage?” he asked incredulously. “Is that how you see me, Ronnie? That I constantly have something to hold above your heads? What could I possibly benefit from doing all this and then walking away? Don’t you think it’s a bit too selfish that you’re projecting your insecurities on me about something I couldn’t control in the past?”

“And you think this is something you can control right now?”

“You’ve seen my ugly side and now the good. I think it’s up to you to choose what to believe about me. I’m not about to argue with you any longer. I do not want to hurt you with the words I’ll say. Get some rest, you’ve had a long day.”

He grabbed his coat from the sofa and reached for the handle, “I hope you saw past that superficial side of me to know that I would never do something like that to you or Max.”

I didn’t answer.

Once the door shut, I heard quiet sobs coming from the top of the stairs. Worried, I spun around and craned my neck to look for the tiny figure. She was there, seated at the railing with her feet pulled up against her chest.

Wiping the stray tears away from my cheeks, I walked up the stairs quietly, one step at a time. When I reached the landing, I squatted down and met Max’s teary eyes. “Why were you two arguing? Did I do something wrong? Why did Uncle Judah leave?”

“Oh sweetheart.” I sighed, picking her tiny frame in my arms, and sat her down on my lap. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that. I assure you; you did nothing wrong.”

I wasn’t sure how much she heard and I wasn’t about to ask. It was bad enough to let a child hear adults having a little spat, it’s even worse to have them think it's them we’re arguing about.

“Sweetheart, we weren’t arguing. We were just having a little…disagreement.”

“I hope you two are okay.” She said in a small voice. “I really like having Uncle Judah around.” She added. “Please don’t make him leave.”

I kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back soothingly, rocking the both of us back and forth slowly as we sat on the top of the landing. Tears began to prick my eyes and I blinked them back furiously, trying my best not to sniffle. I didn’t want Max to see those tears, see how I too, was afraid Uncle Judah might just leave and not come back because of what I said.

Oh god.

I think I may have just done exactly that.

**

A new day began but my mind was still stuck on yesterday.

I woke up much earlier this morning, got some quick breakfast whipped before waking Max up from my bed. I cleaned her up, got her to wear the dress I let her pick out the night before, hoping it'd make her feel better.

While she ate her breakfast, she stared longingly at the door as if she were waiting for someone. I too, unknowingly mimed her actions, stirring my coffee with a spoon, then I saw the clock and decided I’d keep the bottled-up emotions for later tonight. Right now, I had a kid to drop off at pre-school and I had a job to be at.

Max was rather reluctant to part ways with me this morning. Her little fingers tightened her grip around my finger, her eyes were teary even when being coaxed by her favorite dance teacher, Miss Rosie.

“I don’t want you to leave me, Aunt Ronnie. I don’t want to go to school today.” Her lips curled and quivered, she was whining. “Maxie, I can’t bring you to work with me, and I don’t have anyone right now I can trust you with other than your teachers.”

“Uncle Judah?” she asked hopefully.

“Sweetheart, Uncle Judah is working right now.” my shoulders dropped and I sighed a little. I had been surviving with little to no sleep from the night before and I could feel an impending headache coming my way.

I was worried that would come up. This was something I was dreading because I couldn’t explain to a child just why an adult leaves without a reason, and why they can leave without a reason. I’ve never lost my cool nor my patience when dealing with Max, but right now, with all the stress at work and my constant whirlwind of emotions, it might just be an excuse for me to finally c***k open like a rotten egg. But I knew I would never forgive myself if I took it out on a child I cared deeply for.

“Maxine.” I kneeled so I could look at her eye level. “Sweetheart, look.” I paused, praying hard to keep my tone in check. “I may not understand what you’re feeling now, and I won’t pretend that I do. But know that I try to be with you every chance that I get and I love having you around. But Uncle Judah is busy with work and Aunt Ronnie must get work so that she can provide for the both of us. I’ll come get you when school’s over and then we’ll have ice cream for tea. Is that okay with you?”

Her eyes searched mine, looking almost alarmed at the sternness of my voice. I must admit, I hated speaking like that to her, but it was better than yelling at her and causing her to fear me. Without saying another word, she nodded, dropped my finger reluctantly and turned around and followed a fellow teacher into the building.

I rose to my full height once more and stared at her small, slow steps. The occasional head turning over the shoulder, she did seem like she was intentionally guilt tripping me. Well, I’ll tell you what, it is working.

“Hey.” A voice called after me just as I was about to walk away as well. My feet came to a gradual halt and I turned. It was Rosie, Max’s favorite dance teacher at the school. I had almost forgotten she was standing there, watching our little aunt and niece exchange.

I don’t know much about her, but I hear she used to be an attorney, a famous one too.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to say a few words.”

“Yeah?”

“I heard what happened to Max’s parents and I’m so sorry to hear what you and Max have been through. But from what Max tells me daily, her eyes light up whenever she talks about you and Judah, despite what you think or feel, I think you’re doing a marvelous job. Not many people are able to do what you do.”

“Thank you.” I smiled comfortingly, taking in a deep breath, and breathing out slowly. “I never thought I needed that.”

“Have a great day!” Rosie beamed at me before turning around to greet the other kids at the door.

I got back into my car, started the engine at the push of a button and drove out into the streets once the traffic was clear. I never used to drive much on the weekdays. I usually walked because I lived close by where I worked, I’d pass by the familiar shops, the bar…

Shaking my head, I forced myself to pay attention on the road.

Just weeks ago, I was living by myself, for myself. I never really had to care as much for another human being, I never had to make meals for another, never needed to dress another and most certainly did not have to be vulnerable in front of someone else.

It all happened too fast, my sister being taken away from me, my mom going bonkers and I was left with a child to care for and I assumed the duties of a new parent when I was the child myself. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got with myself. I was selfish and the only person I cared for the most was also myself.

Judah was right. I started to project my insecurities elsewhere because I was afraid. I was afraid of many things, but there was no way I was about to list them one by one because I already knew them like the back of my hand.

Maybe this time, just this once, I no longer wanted to run away from them like I used to.

Maybe, for once, I needed to face them.

But where the hell do I start?