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I hated my mother. In that moment, there was nothing I wanted to do more than slap her across her face. I was willing to do anything to get her to go away, even if it meant feeding her alcohol she didn't need. I slammed a shot glass down onto the bar, poured our cheapest tequila into it, and watched her throw it back like the drunk she was.
“Thanks. You're a real peach,” she said sarcastically.
She threw the shot glass back behind the bar, and it shattered on the floor at my feet.
I watched my mother leave the bar area and go toward the man she had her eyes on. She went and tugged on his hand, and then the two of them slid into a booth. The young man leaned into her, his nose trailing along her neck, and soon the two of them were all over each other in that smoky little corner as I shook my head behind the bar.
“Everything okay?” Lindy asked.
“I was wondering when you would show up here,” I said, sighing.
“It’s only ten o’clock,” she said, giggling.
“Fuck.”
“Your mom’s at it early tonight. She got a bedtime or something?”
“Nope. But she’s pissed because I tried to call her out for her slutty behavior.”
“Whoa, yikes. How the hell did she respond to that?” she asked.
“She went on this tirade about how she wasted her golden years raising me and how she was more than just a mother I could be embarrassed about. Now, she’s probably trying to prove a point,” I said.
“Yeah. Probably not the best idea to call her out while she’s drunk,” Lindy said.
“Ya think?”
Lindy and I continued to serve people who trickled into the bar that night. I kept a watch out for any one of the brothers. The twins, Adam, any one of them. Anyone to help distract me from what was going on with my mother. I had no idea how long she and that guy were going to make out in the booth, but I could tell my mother was intentionally trying to catch my stare. Every once in a while, I could feel her eyes flickering over toward me, trying to see if I was looking at her before she kicked things up a notch.
I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction no matter how much I wanted to spit in her face.
“Looks like you’ll get an early reprieve tonight,” Lindy said.
“What?” I asked.
“Your mom. Where’d she go?” she asked.
I looked over at the booth and didn't see my mother or the guy whose face she had been sucking. I scanned the bar area looking for her, trying to figure out where the fuck she had gone. But then I caught my mother’s stare as she stood at the door, her back pressed against the door frame as the young flavor of the night continued to suck on her neck.
My mother shot me a wink before she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the bar and into the parking lot.
“At least she’s gone,” I said.
“And since she left with someone, she won’t be back,” Lindy said.
“Why the fuck is she like this?” I asked.
“I don’t really know. But you know she’s only in here to get free drinks.”
“Yeah, and if I don’t give them to her, she throws a fucking fit, and they toss her out. Without making her pay,” I said.
“Maybe we could talk to Booker? Huh? Get him to ban her.”
“You know he won’t ban anyone. He keeps that policy for a reason. The moment we start banning people, we lose our clientele because we’re no longer unbiased,” I said.
“But it’s bullshit, and you know it,” she said.
“And it’s bullshit I’ll have to continue putting up with. Trust me, I know. I’ve already had this conversation with him. But if we keep our heads down and keep working, in a couple of weeks or whatever we’ll be done with this place,” I said.
