Steady as the Snow Falls(24)

Beth swallowed, shame once more prickling her scalp at her actions and  reactions of Harrison since finding out about his diagnosis. Sharing  needles was a high-risk activity. She blinked and looked away from the  computer screen, needing a moment to collect herself. She hated the  woman who had so carelessly put a grenade on her own life, not to  mention Harrison's. Who knew if Harrison was the only one she'd  infected?

There were ways to control it now, where there hadn't been when it was  first discovered. Antiretroviral therapy, or ART, was encouraged for the  HIV-positive person. Harrison had mentioned that he took medicine  called that. It was a mixture of medicines that slowed the rate at which  HIV multiplied itself. A combination of three or more medicines was  most effective, and it allowed the immune system to stay healthy. The  goal of the antiretroviral therapy was to reduce the amount of virus in  the body to a level no longer detectable with blood tests.

It wasn't a cure, but it was a stabilizer. A handful of hope.

Condoms, of course, were necessary for sexual intercourse. It was less  likely to contract the disease through oral sex than vaginal, and anal  was the most hazardous way to contract HIV. The HIV-negative person  should take pre-exposure prophylaxis, which consisted of two pills that  were to be ingested daily. It was suggested that the HIV-negative person  be tested yearly for HIV and other STDs.

Beth closed the laptop, angry for Harrison, and a small part of her  angry at herself and Harrison. She was biased-something she never would  have thought of herself as being, and he had subjected himself to an  isolation that wasn't required. Except for you. You were allowed into  his emptiness. He chose you. Harrison offered you something of him when  he wouldn't anyone else. It felt like a gift, how ever twisted that  seemed.

More than anything, what struck her the most was the notion that she  wasn't afraid. There was no fear in her bones, no doubts. Already she  could sense a transformation in her from learning the little she had  about him, from witnessing him in motion. Harrison had an unconquerable  attitude. He wasn't scared of life, or death. What right did she have to  be?

She stood, took a deep breath, and shoved everything she'd learned to a  far corner of her brain. Beth couldn't dwell on any of that now. She had  to go to work, and the thought of not getting a moment to herself to be  able to determine what she was thinking, and what it all meant, had  appeal.





THE BAR WAS full of people, drinking and cavorting set on a course to a  memorable night for many in attendance-or a forgotten one. Beth was glad  she was behind the bar instead of trying to navigate through the human  maze of old and young, men and women. It was the kind of place people  came to hang out with their buddies, and if they were lucky, find  someone to flirt with. She felt bad for the two waitresses taking and  filling food orders at the few tables set up in the establishment. Food  stopped being served at eight, and it was quarter to that. The  waitresses didn't have far to go.         

     



 

With the dim lighting, flowing beer, and rowdy patrons, the scene was  set for mayhem. Within the last hour, the place got swarmed. Sweat  covered Beth's body from bustling around the small space next to  Jennifer Travis as they filled drink orders. It was a collage of  mismatched bodies and scents inside the bar. On the weekends they had a  DJ were always the busiest. The younger crowds liked to dance-so did the  drunk people.

"Hey, Blondie! I need a refill." Beth glanced up at Wally Loomas and  nodded as he waved an empty beer bottle in the air. Wally was a  sixty-something-year-old farmer with a mane of wild gray hair who  thought bathing and dressing in clean clothes were optional. He looked  especially grimy tonight.

"We both have blonde hair. Is he talking to you or me?" Jennifer asked,  reaching across Beth to grab a can of beer. She handed it to a  middle-aged man and took his money.

"Whoever serves him first, I guess. I'll get it," she told her friend.

"Beware of the animal feces clinging to his skin." Jennifer's plum-shaded mouth twisted.

"I won't touch his hands," Beth promised, reaching into the cooler for a beer to replace Wally's empty one.

"It's a circus in here," the other bartender muttered, swiping long  blonde bangs from her eyes. The rest of her hair was cut in jagged locks  with the lengthiest ones ending below her jawline.

"Just wait until later," Beth said, smiling.

Jennifer groaned and tugged at her tight red top that showcased her  tanned and toned midriff. "I know. I'm not looking forward to it,  especially when the DJ starts. I'm dragging ass today." She waited on  two women before turning to Beth. "Want to come over and eat a pizza  with me afterward so I don't eat it all myself? I had a cherry sucker  for dinner, and I'm starving."

Beth laughed and handed Wally his beer. "Yeah. Sure. If I'm still functioning halfway decent by closing time."

Jennifer was in her early thirties and, after divorcing her husband of  three years, moved to Crystal Lake just over a year ago. She had no  children, but she wanted them. She had no significant other at the  moment, and she seemed to like it that way. Beth instantly liked  Jennifer when she said she caught her husband with her best friend, and  instead of going after the friend, like so many women did, she went  after her husband. With a baseball bat. Minor harm came to him, but his  car was a different story.

"I don't know," Jennifer said with a feigned look of concern on her  face. "If Ozzy's spies find out about you being at my place so late at  night, the next rumor will be that you're dating me."

Beth rolled her eyes as she made a rum and cola for Eric Johnson, a  brown-haired man who worked at a car mechanic shop and came in only on  the days and nights when Jennifer worked. He had a nice, shy smile, and  as far as she knew, he was one of the decent guys in town. But Beth  wasn't saying anything to Jennifer. If Eric was interested, he needed to  speak up. Beth had learned early in life it was best to worry about  herself and no one else. Too bad the majority of the town hadn't learned  the same.

She thanked him when he said to keep the change, and looked at Jennifer.  "I'm tempted to start that rumor myself just to shut everyone up."

Jennifer laughed and squeezed Beth's shoulder as she swept by, her  sugary fruit-scented perfume coming and going with her. "Most-or all,  really-of the men would secretly like that a little too much. Can you  imagine the business The Lucky Coin would get then? Think of all the men  who'd come in hopes of catching a show," she called as she walked  backward to the ice machine.

Beth grinned and took a drink order.

The DJ started at eight on the dot, and the area was flooded with sound.  The bass vibrated through the walls and Beth's body, and she danced  along as she waited on customers. ‘Unsteady' by X Ambassadors came on  after three fast-paced songs, and she was blasted by thoughts of  Harrison, the one person she was desperately trying not to think about.  Beth almost dropped a bottle of flavored beer and set it down with a  thump before a frowning woman. She muttered an apology and wiped her  clammy hands on the backs of her jeans.

"Should we tell the DJ no one likes slow music until they're really good  and drunk?" Jennifer commented as she nodded to the one couple who were  making a halfhearted attempt at slow dancing. Other than them, the  floor was empty.

"They do," Beth stated, jerking her chin at the couple.

Jennifer snorted. "They probably started earlier than everyone else. What time is Deb coming in?"         

     



 

"She said by eleven," Beth answered, pushing loose strands of hair behind her ears.

"Eleven needs to get here, like, an hour ago. It's crazy in here."  Jennifer chugged a bottle of water and handed a full one to Beth.

She thanked her for the water. Beth didn't mind the chaos. It kept her mind preoccupied.

As the hour neared ten, Ozzy showed up with Kelly Burbach, the woman  who'd watched them when they'd attempted to have a drink together  earlier in the week. It seemed like months ago. Beth paused as she took  in his unkempt good looks. The overhead lights, even dimmed, haloed his  pale brown hair and added a golden sheen to it. He looked around the  room with unhurried confidence, taking in his domain with the cool  calmness of someone who belonged, and knew it.

She remembered how it used to physically hurt to look at him-because he  was bright, as beautiful as a sun-kissed day. Beth didn't see that  beauty anymore. She saw something pretending to be bright.

As if honed to the pace of her heartbeat, his eyes found hers. Ozzy kept  his face neutral as he pulled Kelly closer, and before Beth could look  away, he kissed her. It was deep and endless, telling Beth he was done  with her, not the other way around. The kiss told her he was in control,  not her. She waited for an emotion to hit her, but there was nothing,  other than minor sadness. She turned away, her ponytail bouncing against  her back as she strode to the opposite end of the bar.