Fuck me! I can’t seem to get that snobby bitch out of my brain. She’s been circling around in there all night and most of today, nit-picking the tiniest of problems with my bar. I’m at the point where I am officially over-analyzing the situation.
Maybe I do need some new pre-recorded music for the sound system. I chuckle at the thought. Nick is going to end up thanking the snobby bitch when he hears that I bought new music. He hates it too, or he used to. I think I’ve finally worn him down and he’s okay with it. Or he’s gotten to the point where he can tune it out. Not sure...guess I’ll have to ask him when he comes in next time.
She’s got me so worked up over it, I walk around through the busy lunch crowd and take a small survey of the kind of music people might like to hear. Turns out the snobby bitch was right; country and some top 40 pop music for those that answered. Some preferred to hear the band and begged me to get them to play every night. JEMFire is going to love hearing that, but it ain’t happening.
I will never understand why heavy metal music died? Great bands have come and gone. The truly great ones have stood the test of time, like Metallica and Megadeth, but my personal favorite Whitesnake, broke up shortly after their second album went platinum here in the US. They’ve re-formed and toured, making some new albums, but will never be as great again as they were in their prime. That’s why Jenna indulges me with their best singles with the very little metal music that I request. It’s my own little way of keeping them mainstream.
Bekah sneaks up behind me and taps me on the shoulders, causing me to jump and growl. “Boss, what’s got you so frazzled today?” she asks, taking a long look at my tired eyes and sagging face. “You look like you haven’t slept all night long. You aren’t sick, are you?”
“Nooo,” I drone out. “Jenna’s sister-in-law, Aran, wants to have her wedding here in a few months, and I’ve been up late thinking about making some changes to the bar for the wedding to be as she has planned.”
“Oh, that’s exciting,” she squeals. “Isn’t she the one who’s engaged to the big basketball player? I mean, the famous one...since all basketball players are really big.” She finishes her sentence, stopping in the middle to roll her eyes at herself and correct her words.
“Yes, she is,” I reply. “He’s a Sacramento King now, so we’ve got a local celebrity in our family— well, besides Nick, of course.” We both laugh. I’d better not forget Nick or Jenna will have my hide.
“Not to mention that he’s royalty with being a King,” she chuckles at her own joke. “Yes, and don’t forget Nick. He was so sweet to hire both of my nephews for his landscaping company. They love working for him, even though he’s barely around. He’s got good people managing the business for him.”
“Anyway,” I groan, stopping her story before it can begin. I’m too tired to listen. “Did you need me for something?”
“Oh yes,” she laughs, “thanks for reminding me. I was wondering if I could trade my mid-afternoon shift tomorrow for the late one with Sarah? My car is in for repairs and it won’t be ready until after 4:00 pm they said.”
“Sure, no problem,” I advise, swallowing the rest of my soda and letting the ice drop back to the bottom of the cup. She takes it from my hand and proceeds to go to the bar and pour me another. She’s a loyal and true employee, always taking care of me. She sets my new drink down on the wet, wrinkled napkin in front of me and goes back about her duties, but not before she smiles really big and winks at me.
After the lunch crowd dwindles down, I take my checkbook, statements, bills, and receipts to the back booth and start to balance my month end. It’s my highest priority on the last Wednesday of the month, but after two hours of sorting through paper and getting lost in my thoughts again, Bekah catches me dozing in my hands as I stare down at my checkbook.
“Boss?” she says, pushing on my shoulders to nudge me awake. I sit up straight and rub my eyes. The bright lights in the bar burn my eyes. “Why don’t you go home and take a late afternoon nap? It’ll do you some good before the night crowd starts. It is Wet Wednesday, you know.”
“Ah, shit. It is Wet Wednesday,” I repeat her words through the sleep fog my brain is in. Wet Wednesday is the last Wednesday of the month and it’s half-price mixed-drink night. The bar does a really good business during it, but some of the locals can’t handle their liquor and get a rowdier than usual. “Yeah, I’ll be back around 7:00 pm.” I pick up my sorted piles of paper and shove them into the folds of the checkbook and dump it all in my office.
As I walk back out through the bar, I see a lady sitting at one of the high tops, wearing cream-colored heels. She’s not a brunette like the snobby bitch was, but they still draw my attention and cause me to stop where I stand and think about her. She looked good standing in my bar. What the hell? She needs to exit my damn brain.
Bekah catches me staring at the woman and points to the door, making sleepy gestures to me by tucking her folded hands against her cheek and snoring.
I know what it is. It’s that fucking honeysuckle. It’s invaded my brain and is taking over. I can almost recall her scent just thinking about her. Before I leave, I walk behind the bar and pull the pour top off the Jagermeister and inhale it in one big, long sniff. Choking and coughing, tears burn my already red and sore eyes. Derek watches me in confusion but doesn’t say a word. I hope that does the trick.
I stroll across my fresh, new parking lot to the far corner and open the gate, entering the quiet backyard of my home. It’s decorated exactly like a Japanese Tea Garden. Yeah, I know...that doesn’t sound like my style, does it? I’m a man of many surprises. I lay down in my hammock and relax.
Back when I used to race— I was up and coming in the Nascar circuit and had just won my Yokohama Tire sponsorship; they sent me to Japan to visit and accept the official deal at their main corporate headquarters.
While there, they took me and my fiance, Olivia, to a Japanese Tea Garden, and I’ve never forgotten how peaceful and quiet it was with the water sounds from the Koi ponds, the beautiful gardens, the strolling bridges, and the smells of the Honeysuckle and Cherry Blossom trees...it was so serene. I remember walking through the gardens and holding her hand. She stopped us right next to a large honeysuckle bush and picked up its massive weight, inhaling it. I remember the look on her face, as the sunshine lit up her cornflower blue eyes.
Fuck. Snobby bitch has me going down memory lane, and I hate that place. I stretch my arms over my head and stare up at the sky, trying to think about all the things I ‘ll need to do for Aran’s wedding. Focus, Frank. 1. Paint the bathrooms. 2. Dust the wooden beams. 3. Get some Murphy’s Oil Soap to clean the beams and all the wood...thinking about anything and everything except where my brain wants to go...memory lane.
I re-created that calming Japanese feeling here in my backyard. It’s now my favorite place to relax. Sometimes it’s so relaxing, I end up sleeping all night out here. The only thing I didn’t bring to my tea garden is the damn honeysuckle.
I’ll do anything I can to stay away from that smell. It was Olivia’s signature scent and matched her honey-blond hair. It was long and flowing, just like that bush in the garden in Japan.
I close my eyes, giving in to the complete and overwhelming feeling of being bone tired. I’m still trying hard to think about anything and everything except honeysuckle and snobby bitch...
“Oh, Frank, look,” she says, practically skipping to the long honeysuckle bush that’s cascading over the concrete wall. She picks up the waterfall of flowering greenery, and lifts it to her face, inhaling deeply. “It’s my favorite scent in the whole world.” The sun is shining on her face, lighting it up and piercing her blue eyes, making them appear lighter and brighter than they actually are. She’s so beautiful; she takes my breath away.
“I know it is. You practically bathe in it with your special soap that I’m not allowed to use, then lotion yourself up in it afterward, and then you spritz it on your clothes and hair to top it all off,” I confirm. “It’s the best smell in the whole world.” She beams her heavenly smile at me, and my heart melts with tenderness for this woman.
“Here,” she says, lifting up a long, sweeping branch of the flowers towards my nose, “Does it smell like me?”
I lean in and take a long sniff of the honeysuckle blossoms. Then I lean into her neck, nuzzling deep into the hair on her nape, and inhale. I lick her warm skin right behind her ear, in that sensitive spot that usually makes her shiver, and hear her giggle. “You smell better. You’re sweeter, and you taste mighty fine too.” I press my lips to her cheek and wrap my arms around her tiny waist, as she stretches up to hug me.
“I love you, Franklin Mark Rex,” she whispers to my chest. Her mouth is over my heart and the words sink right into it. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here with her in this moment.
“I love you, too, Olivia Dawn Chase,” I say, squeezing her tight and swinging her around and around until we’re both dizzy and fall to the grass laughing.
What the fuck? I wake up with a sudden jolt and see that I fell out of the hammock. It’s above me shaking in the wind from unloading my heavy ass. I try to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but shit. I landed on my damn elbow and now it’s tingling with sharp pains shooting through my arm down to my wrist. I better not have broken the motherfucker. I’m getting too old to fall. I stretch it out and shake it a bit, before attempting to put any weight on it. I place my hand flat on the ground and hoist myself up to my knees. It doesn’t buckle underneath me so it’s fine, but it’s probably going to be sore as shit for the next few days.
I finish standing all the way up and dust myself off, removing the tiny pieces of gravel and twigs from the ass and knees of my jeans. I head inside and make myself a cup of coffee to wake myself up...again, since the first one apparently didn’t work this morning. I sit here in my quiet kitchen ruminating over my dream about Olivia.
Damn, I miss her so fucking bad. Tears roll down my cheek and one drops into my coffee cup. I walk to the living room and stand at the threshold of the door, too tired, and frankly, too afraid to actually enter. I smile at our engagement photo sitting on the piano. The picture of me after my first win that she framed catches my eye as it hangs on the wall. She made me autograph it, saying our kids will have a great show and tell item one day. I turn to leave, overwhelmed and notice the dust on the bookcase and see the rose from her funeral bouquet laying in it, covered in filth and shriveled in its own death.
Fuck. I’m a sorry excuse for a man.
I return to the kitchen and grab the feather duster, ashamed I let it get to that state again.
At least I still have good dreams that blot out the occasional nightmares that plague me. Speaking of nightmares...at least snobby bitch didn’t invade my thoughts.
I wonder who she is. She’s got my feather’s all ruffled up, bringing memories forth that I don’t want to remember and making me second guess my music choices and cleaning habits for the bar. Just for kicks in case she ever comes in again, I should forbid the bartenders from ever making White Wine Spritzers again. The Beer and Brood is not a wine bar for fuck’s sake.
I place my empty cup in the sink, and stroll back across the parking lot to work, feeling a little better knowing Olivia’s things are well-kept and clean as they should be.
I’ve got to finish my month end, now that my brain is a little clearer. I push through the double doors, and everything is just like I left it. It’s a rarity that I take time off, mainly because I don’t have a manager on most nights. I’m afraid the place will go to hell in a handbasket if I’m gone for too long.
Walking through the bar, I wave and greet most of the regulars who are here, stopping to chit-chat with a few. As I pass through, I catch a whiff of someone’s perfume and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t fucking smell like honeysuckle. Snobby bitch probably sprayed it in here the other day or she plugged in one of those air fresheners just to fuck with me. Great! I guess I really need to get to cleaning this place then, especially if it’s going to start smelling like that. Snobby bitch is going to be nothing but trouble and heartache for me.