Page 19 of Baby, It's You
“Do you want me to take you to the doctor?”
“No,” I quietly respond and sit my laundry basket down.
Feeling suddenly exhausted and defeated from the day, I slump down and sit on the pavement. “I think it’s fine, honestly. It seriously doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks. Don’t even worry about it.” I look up at him and huff out a laugh. “You accidentally smacking me in the face with a bar stool is actually only the third worst thing that's happened to me in the past day.”
I’m unsure why I even said that to him; like a stranger needs to know about my day.
He looks at me for a moment and then sits down next to me on the ground. I can feel his body heat close to mine on the sidewalk and it feels oddly intimate. I twirl a strand of my hair with my finger to distract myself as he turns towards me.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.
I shake my head no.
“That’s okay. If you do want to, though, just know I’m a vault. Whatever you tell me will stay with only me.”
Strangely enough, I believe him when he says this. I stare at my shoes for a moment before deciding,what the hell, sure.
“You really want me to tell you my problems?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, I do.” He looks at me earnestly. “The least I can do is try to be a friend after the physical pain I’ve caused you.” He looks at my bruises and winces at the thought.
“Alright. Fine,” I tell him and stretch out my legs. I unclip my fake bow tie from my uniform and toss it in the laundry basket. I feel like I’m suffocating in my work uniform after what I found out earlier.
“Well, for starters, I found out that the place I love more than anywhere in the world is going to get sold by an evil dictator.”
Hunter looks at me, concerned, “And the place you love is?”
“The bar. Whiskey Jane’s.” I point to my uniform.
“The place we were at last night…where you work?” He looks surprised and continues, “I didn’t see a for-sale sign. Why are they selling?”
“They, as in the owners, would never want to sell, but their son, Tripp, is currently in control of the bar and hates it.” The thought of him getting rid of the place that I hold so dearly in my heart causes a wave of nausea to churn in my stomach.
“How would he be able to sell it if he doesn’t own it?”
“Because his father, Seymour, the man who built it from the ground up, passed away years ago. And Jane…” I stop and takea breath. I hate having to explain her condition to people. It makes it real. “Jane, his mother, has been running the bar alone ever since his dad died. She has Alzheimer’s now and isn’t doing well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hunter responds. “Watching someone you love suffer is the worst feeling in the world.” He goes quiet and I can tell by the sincerity in his eyes that he means it. I momentarily wonder who he has lost in his life.
I nod my head. “Yes, it is.”
“So, their son works at the bar?”
“Kind of. He has never cared about the bar before a day in his life, but now suddenly he has interest in it because he wants to sell it.”
“That’s messed up,” Hunter says, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I agree. He’s their only child, though, so there’s no one to override him.”
“But I don’t think he has the right to sell it. It’s not his business and if his name isn’t on the deed, I doubt he can legally do that,” Hunter tells me, his voice trying to sound reassuring.
I shrug. “I’m not sure, I don’t know any of the details yet. I just found out a few hours ago…after I left from visiting Jane at the memory care home.”
“Oh,” Hunter says, “I’m sorry. I’m guessing that was another hard part of your day.”
I nod and watch an ant crawl onto my leg from the pavement. I gently move it back to the ground as I say, “It’s bittersweet every time I see her. I love being with her, but I also know our time left is limited. On the days she doesn’t remember me, it's extremely difficult.”
I feel his eyes on me again. “How was she doing today?”
