Page 2 of Hallow’s Eve
Picking glass out of my hair, I bobbed my head. Now that everyone wasn’t staring at me, I felt okay. Realizing he’d witnessed that awful scene but didn’t come to my rescue, I plastered on a fake smile. “Just peachy,” I said in a normal tone, not caring if he heard me.
The other bartenders, Jasper, Greta and Viv joined Ford to stare at me. Then Celie came over and tackled me, hugged me to her. Twice my age, my supervisor had been working here for ages. She trained all us girls and guys to grow thick skin but wasn’t above lifting our chins when things got rough. I relaxed against her for a moment, taking the comfort she offered. Sucking in a breath, I smelled nothing but her heavy perfume. Oddly enough, she reminded me of my late mother, petite and thin, like me. However, where Celie was dark, I was pale with blonde hair. She had big blue eyes that stood out against her black hair, and I had brown eyes that blended in with my artificial lowlights. When she first met me, she said I was whiter than a frog’s belly. In the wintertime I was but right now I had a bit of a tan.
After Celie came Grady, her ex and our big boss, under the rarely seen owners. Sexier than socks on a rooster, he just stood there, arms crossed, shaking his head.
“I’m fine, for real,” I mouthed as I took off to find Donette to tell her what had happened.
For the rest of the evening, I avoided the bikers like the plague. The biker bitch had high tailed it out of here after my boss approached her. The guy, however, stuck around, but I refused to even look his way. I avoided him by stealing away to the breakroom as often as I could. Donette found me. We talked about tomorrow night which was Halloween when we’d be required to dress up. My bestie would be coming as Lydia Deetz fromBeetlejuice. I figured it was because she already looked like that actress, everyone said so. She claimed some guy always came as Beetlejuice but always came alone.
“There’s a guy who always comes as Beetlejuice?”
“Not the same guy. Somebody different every year dresses as Beetlejuice. You can bet your bottom dollar, but you never see Lydia.”
“Oh, gotcha.” Donette was hoping tomorrow’s Beetlejuice was hot underneath the makeup. I pictured Beetlejuice in my head and grimaced. “You’re in search of someone who’d dress as Beetlejuice?”
“That’s my type. I want a gothy geek like me. An Omega male.”
“What’s that?”
“Basically, the opposite of an Alpha male. I’ve had plenty of those. Men like my ex, Dylan.” At the mention of her ex-fiancé, we had our usual moment of silence as she took a deep breath. When she recovered, she explained, “I’m looking for an Omega male to settle down with, become an Alpha mom.” Donette was only two years older than me but was dying to get married and start a family. Since her ex-fiancé left her, I figured she’d been through every type of guy. But I wasn’t one to judge.
“I’ve not even thought about it,” I said, speaking of my costume though she hadn’t asked. Also, I hadn’t thought about what type of guy I liked. Donette and I didn’t have to be polite to one another and ask questions. We just told each other what we wanted to and that was that. Simple. That was why Donette was my best friend in Nashville. We were easy. I liked easy. More than that, I was horrible at being polite and making conversations happen.
Eventually business wound down, and Grady handed me my Gibson acoustic guitar like always. “It’s closing time, Eve.”
As always, my eager smile thanked him. I was mighty grateful for the opportunity and that it was indeed closing time. Our last gig had just packed up. The five of them counted their tips at the bar. The lead singer, Ray tipped his Stetson and winked as I walked by. His eyes followed me as I stepped up onto the stage, but frowning, he shook his head. Yeah, he knew about me.
Grady set out the big glass tip jar, now empty, for me as I stood in front of our vintage style microphone. Looking out over the Thursday night stragglers, I reminded myself it was Friday morning. That the dozen or so folks left were all too drunk to notice me. As usual, I glanced around out over the long room, searching for someone to sing to. Portraits of so many stars who started their careers here on Lower Broad hung above the bar. Willie, black and white, in his Grand Ole Opry days tempted me, but my eyes locked with the flat painted ones of our mechanical bull. Taco had been out of order for months. This one was for him. I hoped he liked Lyle Lovett. But moreover, I knew Grady would get a kick out of it. After all, he was the one who hired the bands.
As I sang “Closing Time”, I changed up the lyrics. “Grady’s been mixing drinks all evening… I know that man ain’t right…. Celie’s always giggling…”
Celie’s laugh sounded, making my eyes travel to her as she flipped on the overhead lights. The neon glow disappeared to reveal a dirty bar. Squinting, I glanced around with a bit more confidence. As I strummed and got into a rhythm, I noticed folks doing just what I was singing. Ford arranged chairs and Donette loaded empty beer bottles onto the bar. The last band was still counting their money and Grady was sending folk’s home. As more people left, I sang even better. My whole body relaxed as my bundle of nerves unwound. A real smile overtook my features as I belted out the last part of the song. I spied the biker from earlier exiting the building, Grady holding the door for him. My smile widened. When I sang the last notes, the place had cleared.
The singer in his Stetson stood and clapped first. He was joined by the rest of his band and our crew that was left. Blushing, I bowed a little before leaving the stage. I had a floor to mop.
“Where’s Donette,” I asked Grady when I was fixing to leave. We always walked to the parking garage together.
“She said to tell you, Goodnight, Irene.”
I crossed my arms. “Again?” That was our code to let each other know we were leaving with a guy. I’d never gotten to use it. Meanwhile, Donette had done worn it out.
“Don’t worry. Ford can walk you.”
I didn’t let my discomfort show on my face. “What about Celie?”
“She’s already gone. Greta and Viv, too.”
“The other girls?” I asked but knew only a few of the newbies, Donette and I had been closing. It was horrible, but I barely knew the new girls’ names. Turnover was that high.
“Sent Shandra and Tinessa home before close. If you can wait for me, I’ll walk you myself.” Grady smirked and got a funny look in his eye. “Maybe we can get some coffee.”
My nerves prickled, winding back up again. Grady had his eye on me, I knew, but he was more than twice my age, even older than his ex-wife Celie. Sure, he was a silver fox, but I didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count all the reasons I shouldn’t have coffee with him. For one thing, he had a set of twins in high school. “Oh, I’ve got to be on my way home. I’m worn out.” I yawned and stretched for good measure. “I’ll find Ford.”
“Titan up!” a man hollered from the second floor of the honky-tonk next door as Ford and I stepped out of Bootsies. I rolled my eyes as Ford echoed him. He was wearing his Tennessee Titan’s jersey. Ford might pass for a kicker, but he was no football player. Just a rabid fan. There was likely some big win tonight that I knew nothing about. I’d never been big on sports.
“It’s good you’re having me walk you with those bikers out and about,” Ford said right off.
“I’m more worried about the homeless trying to rob me,” I muttered. There was a wad of cash in mainly ones shoved into my purse. Most of the time the vagrants on these streets were harmless, but at three a.m. with such easy pickings, a girl had to be careful.
