At one point, things cool down for a moment and a cute, little old man perches up on a barstool. “Hey Em, who’s this lovely lady you’ve got back here?” he asks.
“Hi Joe,” she smiles at him, while pulling clean glasses from the dishwasher. “This is Audrey, she works here now.” I can feel her eyes on me, probably wondering if I’ll refute her statement. “Make sure you tell your wild crew over there to be nice to her.” When she shakes her finger back and forth at him, I can’t contain the giggle.
Em hands him a Sprite and he winks at me on his way back to his table. “Nice to meet you, Miss Audrey.”
“Joe’s here all the time,” she tells me. “He’s great. If you have family issues, he’s the man to talk to. He lays it out straight, no bullshitting around. I’ve gone to him more times than I can count.”
“I might actually take advantage of that…” I say as I stare after the kind, old man.
I’ve never had grandparents. When I was younger, I use to daydream up these wonderful, make-believe families. A dad who came home from work with open arms, wanting hugs from his whole family. A mom who would help me get dressed for school dances and one day, my wedding. A grandpa who would let me sit in his lap while we drank sweet tea on the porch. I even had a grandma who pinched my cheeks and made the best peach cobbler. I’ve had these fantasies for so many years now, they almost feel real.
The night begins to wind down and our bouncer, Mark, begins to escort out the stragglers as the bar closes. Em and I walk by all the tables and pick up any glasses we missed during our earlier cleanup.
“Can I ask about your home life? Or is that rude?” Em asks while I’m scrubbing glasses.
“Are you asking for yourself, or do you plan on sharing this with a certain boyfriend?”
“He doesn’t know?” she asks, sounding shocked.
“You guys don’t talk about past relationships, do you?”
She laughs, “Well, this is my first relationship, so there wasn’t much for me to talk about. Jax skimmed over his past and I never really felt the need to know details.” We finish our closing duties and decide to sit down on the barstools and continue our conversation.
“Jax never mentioned me before I came up here last year, did he?”
“No…” she says with a worried face.
I hurry to reassure her. “That’s because Jax and I didn’t mean much to each other. We came to an agreement and we had fun. Things got all screwed up, but that’s it. There never was anything significant going on there.”
“I guess I can understand that. I think I just assumed since you guys were dating, that if you broke up, it would be heart breaking. I’ve only ever had one relationship and I know I’d be devastated to lose him.”
“But it wasn’t ever like that with us. Plus, we were in high school. We were both young and stupid.” I sigh at the memories and then change the subject, “Can I ask you to not tell anyone that I’m working here with you? Not Jax or Jace… I know they’ll eventually find out, but I’m just not ready. The first thing they’ll think is that I did this on purpose.”#p#分页标题#e#
“I can’t lie to Jaxon, but unless he specifically asks, I won’t tell.” She makes a criss-cross motion over her chest and I feel a bond forming with her.
“My parents hated me. Well, I’m sure they still hate me,” I say in a quiet voice, answering her earlier question. “They never wanted a kid, but it ended up benefitting them money-wise to keep me around. My mom was rarely home before she eventually ran off for good, but my dad… he was… violent.”
Em sucks in a quick breath and then apologizes for her reaction, “I’m sorry, go on.”
“Well, there’s not much more to it. For as long as I can remember, I was hiding bruises and cuts. Dating Jaxon was nice, only because I had a place to hide out from my house. I worked a lot too, so I spent most of my time either at the restaurant or with him. Honestly though, I would have chosen anything over being at home. I never had any friends because I didn’t want them asking questions. Jax was pretty self-involved back then, so he never noticed anything.”
“He never asked about your bruises?” she huffs out in frustration. When I shake my head back and forth, she says, “Jerk.”
That makes me laugh. “He was in high school, a teenager going through his own losses.” I start to wonder why I’m defending him. “Clearly he’s changed though.”