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“I thought the meds were helping him,” I hear her say. “I know, but…” her voice trails off and any excitement I had about going to theTap Roomwith Georgie is crushed when she turns to me and says, “I’m sorry.”
“You have to go,” I say, trying to keep a smile on my face so she doesn’t know how disappointed I am.
“Yeah, Charlie isn’t responding to the meds anymore and Mrs. Hampton’s bringing him in to be put down. Dr. Stickuphisass needs me to assist,” she says.
“He can’t run that place without you, huh?” I ask.
Georgie and I used to work together until about five years ago when she quit, went back to school, and started her second life, as she calls it, as a vet tech. The minute she made the decision to leave corporate life I could sense a shift in her, as if the pressure weighing her down was lifting. She seems happier now.
“He’s lacking in the emotional department, if you know what I mean, and Mrs. Hampton will be crushed.”
“It’s okay.”
“Dr. Stickuphisass is a jerk sometimes, but when he does things like this after hours for his customers, it reminds me he does have a heart in there somewhere,” Georgie says with a slight chuckle. “I really am sorry.” Her expression turns remorseful as she leans in for a hug.
“You should still go,” she says into my hair.
“No.” I shrug, pulling away.
“Why not? Enjoy some music, live a little,” she says.
“I live.”
“You’re going to go home and watch John Hughes films all weekend, aren’t you?”
I give her an appalled look. “No, smart ass,” I say. “Noelle ditched me to sleep over at Sofia’s.”
“Lake, go,” Georgie says with a stern expression. She might be short, but she can be intimidating when she wants to be. “This is your sign.”
I nod, pacifying her. “Go take care of Charlie.”
“Love you,” Georgie concedes, giving me a hug.
I watch as she crosses the street and then look in the direction of where my car is parked. Maybe it’s the impending rain or the music on the breeze taunting me, but instead of walking to my car, I walk in the opposite direction.
3
THE TAP ROOM
The Pusher by Steppenwolf
The electricity in the air from the impending storm crackles against my skin as I walk down to the corner. When I reach the end of the block, I take a turn onto Southern, following a group of college students to Danelle Plaza. Each step feels like I’m moving back in time because the plaza is exactly the same – even if the businesses that have taken up residence have changed. Everything is new; the auto parts store, a smoke shop, and thrift store… but not theTap Room.
The same white brick facade and weathered aluminum awning with the distinct white lettering,Yucca Tap Roomremain. The entrance is still covered in bold, bright artwork with arrows leading you in, as if you could ever miss it. The bouncer takes one look at me and waves me through, not even bothering to card me. I’m not twenty anymore, which is the last time I was here.
Everything looks the same, and yet so different. Maybe it’s because I’m looking at it through different eyes – older eyes.
It’s dark and loud, with people moving from one room to the next. The same L shaped bar with a stained wooden counter sits in the corner. Mirrors line the wall with shelves of liquor illuminated by backlighting, and the TV screens above the bar list all the local beers on tap. I manage to squeeze my way through the crowd and get the attention of the bartender.
He’s a young guy, nice looking, with a dark beard shaved close and a black t-shirt with the bar’s emblem on it – a green mountain with gold lettering,Yucca, across it, and the wordsTap Roombelow it.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” he calls out over the noise.
This isn’t the kind of place you order a martini in.
Looking over the list of beers displayed on the TV screen above, it feels a bit overwhelming.
“Blueberry blonde?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
