Page 11 of Entirely Yours
He’s propped up in his old La-Z-Boy, with his “eyes closed” which is Hank speak for taking a quick nap even though he’ll insist he wasn’t asleep. He startles when I knock the back of his chair, quickly sitting up with an “I’m awake!”
“Great!” I reply, pretending like I’m not the reason for the end of his nap. “I’ll be right back. Keep an eye on Chlo?”
He huffs in agreement as I ruffle Chloe’s hair and tell her to stay with Pop until I get back.
Downstairs I pull the door open to Louie’s—a local bar that looks adorably quaint.
There’s an older man at the opposite end wiping down the bar top and a few students tucked into different tables. It’s only five o’clock so it’s still pretty early for the bar scene, but I know everyone is hungry after our long day.
I grab a seat at the bar and look around for a menu. All I see are sticky countertops, mismatched coasters, and a rogue ketchup packet.
“New in town?” the man behind the bar asks.
“Yes, sir,” I respond. You can take the girl out of the south but you can’t take the south out of the girl. Or so I’m told.
The man raises his brows at me. “That’s very polite, young lady. How can I help you?”
“I’d love to order some food to-go if that’s an option.”
“Of course it is. Let me grab a menu real quick.” He shufflesdown to the other side of the bar right as the door blows open behind me.
“Louie!” someone yells. “Can you make Benoit here something fancy to drink?”
“Something fancy?” The older man who I now realize must own the place, calls back down the bar. “Ben, you were in Boston too long if you’re requiring something fancy just to get drunk.”
That catches my attention both because of the name and the fact that he apparently lived in Boston. I turn around in my chair and come face-to-face with my new neighbor and another man that looks around the same age but has slightly lighter hair.
“You’re from Boston?” I ask by way of greeting.
“Hey, Thea,” Ben replies. “No, just lived there for the last few years. Moved back a week or so ago. This is my brother, Gabe, that I was telling you about.”
I lift my hand to wave at Gabe, but I’m still stuck on Ben being in Boston and looking so much like Jules. “We just moved from Boston.”
“No shit!” Ben says. “What brought you to Sassyass—I love that by the way!”
By this point, Louie has rejoined us, and I suddenly feel like I have an audience. “I, uh… I’m opening up a dance studio. Down the street actually.” I point toward the direction of the studio even though we can’t actually see it from inside the building.
“That’s great,” Louie says. “We’ve needed someone to fill that space ever since Ms. Matilda retired a few years back.”
“That woman was scary,” Gabe adds, shuddering.
I picture Gabe in a dance class and smile. “Did she teach you?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he replies. “Our mom made us all take classes when we were younger. She has always been very adamant that we not become ‘overly masculine dickheads’ I think are her exact words.”
“She sounds like someone I’d like,” I reply, a grin creepingup. I think I’m going to like having Ben and Gabe as neighbors. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to meet their mom, too.
“Everyone likes Elaine,” Louie chimes in. “She’s a professor over at Hawthorne. Her ‘Psychology of Sex’ class is a big hit.”
“Ew,” Gabe and Ben say at the same time.
Everyone continues to chat while I take a look at the menu, smiling at the familiarity of the men around me. After placing a to-go order, I ask Louie if he minds if I swing back by to pick it up after I check on the studio.
Meandering down the block, I realize it’s actually perfect to have the bar right below us. If we need some extra cash, I bet I can talk Louie into hiring me as a bartender.
There’s an added skip in my step when I get up to the windows of the studio. I curve my hands around my eyes and take a look inside. You can tell it has been sitting unused for a while, but it’s still perfect. I’m itching to paint the walls, scrub the dust off the floors, and re-hang the tilted barre. I’m physically bouncing on the tip of my toes, excitement pulsing through me—I can’t wait to get the keys tomorrow.
I take out my phone, snapping a blurry picture through the window to send to Magnolia.
