Page 10 of Seamus's Basement
“Alright, alright, no need to get testy.” Lucas downed the rest of his martini and set his glass back on the bar. “Todd had to take off because his brother’s kid is sick or something so he needs to take over closing the grocery store. I’m going to go home. There are only a couple of other people here. Close early for the night and get your head on straight.” He paused. “Or not straight. That’s the better route in my opinion.”
He clutched the bar with both hands and dropped his chin to his chest.
“Sorry about this, DJ.” Lucas’s barstool slid against the floor as he stood. “The one night you come out and we’re all bailing. Want to walk out together? I can drop you off at your place on my way to the farm.”
“No worries.” DJ reached for Todd’s abandoned cider. “I’m going to finish Todd’s drink and then I’ll head out. No reason for it go to waste. I can walk home.”
“Night, DJ. See you next time, Seamus. Maybe by then, you’ll be able to introduce me to your husband.”
He held up his middle finger.
Lucas cackled as he walked to the door.
“Fuck my life,” Seamus said.
In a twist of luck, the other two people in the bar came up to close out their tabs. He checked them out quickly and then followed them to the door and flipped the sign and the lock. Lucas was right about closing early. He was a mess. No way was he going to be able to work for another four or five hours.He dropped his head against the glass door and sucked in deep breaths.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
He swung around, the unexpected voice a reminder that he had one more customer in the bar.
“Sorry about that.” He sighed. “You can unlock it when you’re done with your cider.”
DJ nodded and traced his fingertip against the condensation on the glass.
While mentally running over the conversation with his father and trying to come up with a plan, he got to work picking up empty glasses and trash. He wouldn’t do his full closing routine, but he had to at least get the bar back in order before he left for the night.
“I can help you clean up,” DJ said, rising from his stool.
“I’ve got it.”
“I don’t mind.” He walked around the bar and over to the sink and started washing the dirty supplies. “I work at Jesse’s Diner, Strong Brew, and Slice of Life, and I fill in at Pike’s Grill every once in a while. I’m used to this.”
With experience at the town diner, coffee shop, pizza place, and biggest and best restaurant, DJ could probably handle closing down his little bar all by himself. Too mentally drained to object, Seamus nodded in response. “Thanks.”
He turned off the music, wiped down the tables, stacked the chairs on them, gathered the bags from all the trash cans, and then climbed up the back stairs and tossed them in the dumpster. When he got back inside, the dishwasher was running and DJ was mopping the floors.
“I appreciate the help, but you really don’t have to do this.”
“It’s no big deal.” DJ shrugged. “I restocked your empties, wiped down the bar, handled the dishes, sanitized the sinks, and prepped your garnishes for tomorrow.” He picked up the mopand bucket and walked toward the back of the bar. “I’ll pour out the dirty water in the utility sink and you should be good to go for opening.”
“Wow.” He looked around the now clean space. “You’re a life saver. Thank you.”
“No worries.”
When DJ returned from the back room, Seamus walked toward the front door to let him out. “I really appreciate your help,” he said. “Next time you come in, drinks are on me.”
“It wasn’t a problem.” DJ headed toward the door.
“Hey, weird question.” He didn’t know much about DJ because he rarely frequented the bar, but he remembered Todd Smitty once saying they’d gone to high school together, which meant he had grown up in Hope. And he worked at several of the businesses in town. Surely, between one of those places, he had met or heard of everyone who lived there. If DJ didn’t know the mystery man his parents had lined up, he probably didn’t exist. “Do you know someone named Dylan Johnston?”
DJ stilled and stared at him, his expression appraising once again. He didn’t respond right away, but eventually, he nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Seamus was taken aback. “Seriously? Who is he?”
He stayed quiet for another long moment and then he squared his narrow shoulders, strode over to Seamus, and reached his hand out. “Dylan Johnston,” he said, looking up at him. “Everyone in Hope calls me DJ. It’s nice to meet you.”
Chapter 4
