Page 58 of Every Almost

She took herself apart. She studied the pieces before she put herself back together in a configuration that finallyworked.

On a Thursday night in the fall of her junior year, Charlie drove to a bar called The Boulevard. She'd heard about it from someone in her study group, a careful mention delivered with the particular casualness of someone testing whether the information would be welcome.

The Boulevard was small, a neighborhood place with low lighting and a pool table and a bartender who looked up when she walked in and gave her a quick nod and a smile.

"Take a seat, babe. I'll be right with you," he said as he poured beer into pint glasses lined up along the side.

"Thanks." Charlie sat down at the bar and looked around.

She watched women in a back booth, laughing heartily at one woman who was telling a story animatedly with both her hands while the rest of them sat in twos with their arms around each other.

She scanned over to a group standing near the pool table, men laughing at the poor guy who couldn't knock any of the balls into a pocket to save his life. But when he finally had one go in, another man walked up to him and kissed him right there, andthen held hands with the man while they waited for the turn to come around again.

Then there was the group in the corner playing cards, shifty eyes and faces hiding behind their curved cards.

"Ya got any 3s?" A young man with a fedora on asked the opponent across from him. Charlie watched as the opponent's face morphed into a snide grin.

"Go fish, Judy."

"Dammit!" And the whole table erupted in laughter. Charlie joined in before she realized the sound of nearby laughter was coming from her.

"Sorry for the wait, honey," a voice said behind Charlie, the bartender having returned to collect her order. "What can I get you?"

"What's the best beer you have on tap?"

"The best? Ooo fancy fancy. Are you celebrating something, doll?" Charlie smiled.

"I think I am, actually."

"What are you celebrating?" Charlie smiled at the man.

"Being me," Charlie replied. The bartender winked at her.

"That's the best celebration of them all." Then he walked away, grabbed a pint glass from under the bar, placed it under the tap and filled it with a golden honey-colored liquid. When he topped it off, he brought it back to her. "First one's on the house."

"Oh hold on now, I couldn't possibly?—"

"Bar rule," he interrupted. "When you come in for the first time, it's just what we do." He studied her before continuing. "Lemme guess. You're from.... Kentucky?" Charlie laughed.

"Indiana."

"Eh, close enough," the man said, waving his hand. "I'm sure it was difficult no matter where you came from. But know you'rewelcome here, always. And we want you here." Charlie stared up at the man, grateful for his words.

"Thank you."

"You betcha, honey. Don't be a stranger now, ya hear?"

"I won't," Charlie replied with a soft laugh. The bartender knocked twice on the bar, and then walked away. Then he turned back.

"What's your name, love?"

"My name? Charlie... it's Charlie."

"Charlie," he repeated, almost savoring the word in his mouth. "I'm Matt. It's a real pleasure to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Matt."

"Hey, everyone!" Matt shouted out, and every head in the bar turned towards him. "Say 'hello' to Charlie! She's here for thefirst time."