At eight o’clock that night I looked up at the door and waited for Alex to walk into the bar. I waited and I prayed that he wouldn’t. I hoped his friends had gotten through to him and he no longer needed that bottle of JD that waited for him there with me.
As the clock continued to tick away the minutes I slowly began to smile. He hadn’t shown up and the more time that passed the bigger my smile became.
At ten o’clock Frankie finally noticed it and grinned at me.
“What are you so happy about?” he asked, filling an order I had given him.
“We lost a customer,” I answered, nodding to the empty stool at the end of the bar.
“Jack Daniels?”
“Yup,” I said, smiling as I turned away.
In those few moments I had my back to the door everything changed. When I turned back around Alex stood just inside the bar, his eyes trying to find me in the dim lightly.
My heart was torn between sorrow and joy at seeing him. I wanted him to be at home with the ones that he loved, with the people who needed him the way that he needed them. I also wanted to see him though. I wanted to see those dark eyes and here that raspy voice.
“Guess we didn’t lose one after all,” Frankie said.
I didn’t answer him or point myself out to Alex. I simply carried my drinks to the table that ordered them. In fact, I didn’t go anywhere near him all night. I wasn’t avoiding him. Just trying to figure out how to get him out of my bar without getting him out of my life.
Just before the bar closed Frankie caught my attention one last time as the customers began to drift out.
“He bought that bottle when he came in. Take a look at it,” he said, nodding his head toward the end of the bar where Alex sat.
I glanced toward Alex and the bottle of Jack Daniels that sat next to him. It was only about one fourth of the way empty. He had barely drunk anything compared to previous nights.
“Think maybe you had more of an effect on him then we thought,” Frankie said, walking away.
As the last customer left the bar, Frankie left his place from behind the bar. I turned and smiled at him.
“Tell Maggie and the kids I said hi. Maybe you’ll let your busy girl come to lunch one day next week?” I suggested with a grin.
“Maybe,” he answered, smiling as he hugged me. “You’ve got company if you need any help,” he added, stepping to the side and revealing Alex who still sat at the end of the bar.
“What’s he doing here, Frankie?”
“He said you’re not allowed to walk home alone. It’s dangerous out there.”
“I’ve been walking home on my own for four years and you know that, Franklin,” I shot back.
“You’re the one that wanted to soothe the tortured soul, Busy. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, kissing my cheek and walking out the door.
I locked the door, closed the blinds, and set about cleaning up. I acted as if I was alone like I usually was pretending Alex wasn’t sitting on that stool.
“Are you angry with me?” Alex finally asked twenty minutes later, breaking the silence.
I stopped mid circle as I wiped off a table and looked over at him. He sat still perched on his stool, the almost full bottle next to him, his eyes watching my every move, and his hands holding on to the edge of the bar, his knuckles white.
“Alex, I’m not angry with you. How can I be? You haven’t done anything wrong,” I answered, shaking my head sadly.
“You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me, Greer. I had to have done something,” he argued.
“Alex, let go of the bar. You’re knuckles are white and it’s scaring me,” I said, watching his fingers dig into the wood.
He looked down and seemed surprised by the sight of his own hands. Quickly he let go and moved away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” I asked quietly.
“For scaring you. For scaring the guys, the kids, myself, my family. For not knowing how to live the rest of my life without her smile and her laughter. For not knowing how to end a day outside of this bar without her magic and her energy. For not knowing how to sleep through a night without holding you because my dreams are filled with nightmares of being without her,” he answered, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he lost himself once again in the pain.
I tossed down the rag in my hand and grabbed my purse from behind the bar. I would finish the clean up tomorrow. Right now Alex needed me more than the empty shelves and dirty bar top did.
“Come on,” I said, taking his shaky, cold hand in my own.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Home. We are going home and then I’m going to call you’re friends and you are going to talk to them,” I answered, locking the door behind us. I looked at him. “It’s time to let go, Alex.”
“I don’t want to lose her, Greer.”
“I don’t want you too, either. I just want you to let go of the pain and the fear and there’s only one way to do it.”
“How?” he asked.
“By letting the ones who still love her back in. Let them show you how to hold on and let go.”
“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom.”
“Shakespeare? Why quote that sonnet?” I asked when he finished.
“Seemed fitting,” was all he said as he took my hand in his again.
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