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She ended the call without waiting for him to comment. Leaning against the cold wall, she took a few deep breaths. It was always hard talking to her brother. He didn’t respect her but somehow needed her approval. Talking to him in public was twice as hard since her brother only spoke to her in Russian. So, her conversation with him had been him speaking Russian and her speaking in English.
For years she did not speak Russian outside of her apartment. Even though it was her mother tongue, and she could speak and write it, she only used it with her family. Her mother wouldn’t learn English. Though she could understand it, she would not speak it to this day. Her dad could converse in both languages. Since all her siblings had managed to marry fellow recently emigrated Russians, they all knew the language. Her family, too, had emigrated to the United States when she was eight.
Russian was still the language she used when she got mad. Usually, she only got that mad at her family, so it didn’t matter. During her short marriage, her husband had said it was annoying to be yelled at in another language. During high school and college, she had focused on clearing up her accent, and now most people didn’t even realize she was not a native speaker.
Pushing away from the wall, she finally went into the bar. Mia had texted her a few minutes ago and asked if she wanted to drink. At the time, she had agreed so she could see her new friends. The bonus was that she could spend her birthday with others. But after her call from Mike, she needed a drink more than anything else.
Shoving the door open, she felt the warmth of the bar engulf her. She looked around for her friends, flexing her fingers to get the feeling back in them. With a quick glance, she needn’t have worried, because the place was dead.
Mia yelled from a booth, “Dress down, lady! You’re making us all look bad.”
Tess laughed at the waitress. She was fun and outgoing, something that had taken getting used to. Stopping at the bar, she ordered a glass of wine and looked over at her friends.
After a few weeks they were friends now. The Sunday afternoon meeting had turned into a biweekly get-together. They had also changed the idea of the club a little the first day by having everyone read a different book, and then they’d compare them. And now they were going to start recording their conversations because Natalie said they were too funny not to share. It was weird, but Tess was going with it to see what happened.
“Should we call the younger ones?” Mia scooted over to let Tess sit next to her with her wine. The other book club members were in their early twenties, and Mia liked to point out their youth.
“No, Hazel has the baby, and Natalie should be with her fiancé today,” Ruth said.
“How about Mandy?” Tess asked the two, even if Mia had been the only one speaking so far. But then again, Ruth was usually more reserved than Mia.
“She is in Grand Forks for the weekend,” Mia explained.
“So, everyone had a bad day?” Tess asked the little group.
“You got that right.” Ruth was staring daggers at the men at the bar. Tess hadn’t noticed them when she came in. Not that she would have noticed them anyway; she didn’t know a lot of people from town. To her, one pair of strangers were no different than another pair.
When Ruth turned back to them, she said, “What? It was Rafferty Brooks who killed my day.”
“He always seems harmless to me.” Tess sipped her wine and glanced at the two men again. She didn’t know them well at all.
“Has he turned his smooth moves on you? He likes to bang anything in a skirt.” Mia downed her shot of whiskey, then slammed her hand to her mouth. “No offense, Tess. Your skirts are always nice.”
Tess just laughed at the purple-haired woman beside her. “No, Mia, I have not had the attention of Mr. Brooks. I think I am a little too old for him anyway.” Tess felt old today. Maybe because it was her birthday, and she was now thirty-seven. Soon she would be forty, and then what? Fifty? Sixty?
“Too old? That has never been an issue with that one.” Mia waved to the bartender for another drink.
“Then I think I am going to have hurt feelings since he has yet to pursue me.” Tess looked over the man in question again. He was definitely younger than her, close to Mia and Ruth’s ages, but he was a handsome man with that brown hair.
“Don’t. You don’t want to waste your time with him,” Ruth said, shaking her head. “Anyway, he has a thing for Mia right now.”
Mia’s gaze flew to Rafferty. “He can keep his thing to himself.”
“So, there is a hot man who has a job and his own hair, and you don’t want anything to do with him, Mia. Why?” Tess asked the waitress.
“Because the minute I get enough money together, I’m out of this town. I’m a big city girl trapped in this dinky town, and Rafferty would only mess that up. Besides, he’s a player,” Mia pointed out.
“I would play with that if it were looking at me that way.” Tess laughed at Mia’s expression. She loved that her new friends could take a little teasing.
Paul, the bartender, brought over drinks for the table and indicated that they had been paid for by the guys. Once he left, Mia leaned into the table and whispered, “I tapped that once. Not going back.”
“What?” Ruth asked in shock. “Paul?”
“No, Rafferty. A long time ago, ancient history now. But still a history not worth repeating.” Mia downed her new glass of whiskey.
Ruth turned her attention to Tess. “So, how old are you, anyway?”
Tess looked over to her trying to hide her surprise. Did she know it was her birthday today? How could she have possibly figured that out? “How old are you, Ruth?”
