"Um, I've never fantasized about that," Wilson says.
"I love you, Wilson!" I say and lean over the bar to give him a kiss on the cheek.
He leans back, his hands folded behind his head, as is now his fashion whenever I kiss him, which I do with some regularity since he's so adorable.
"You know he's only sayin' that so you'll kiss him, right?" Jaye asks.
I shrug my shoulders. "Doesn't matter, I love him anyway," I say.
"Back to Ian's birthday," Tom says. "If we don't do a stripper in a cake, we should at least do a stripper. He's 30 for fuck's sake. That's OLD!"
"Watch it, youngin'," Pappy warns. "'tis very nice of ye all to think about doing somethin' for Ian on his birthday, but if ye haven't learned it yet, I'll tell it to ye again. He doesn't like a fuss. If ye really want to honor him, ye'll act as if ye don't even know ‘tis his birthday."
They all grumble, and Tom is about to protest, when Ian returns from the patio, effectively ending the conversation.
"How'd you like that Redbreast, Kelli?" Jaye asks to change the subject.
Ian's eyes narrow and he looks at me, "You drank Redbreast?"
"Yes," I say, a little unsure of why he'd care. "I'll pay for it … " I say, thinking maybe he was objecting to the price.
"I've never seen you drink whiskey before," he says.
"I'm trying new things. It's what I came to L.A. to do," I say.
He eyes me warily, but doesn't say anything further.
"Well?" Jaye asks again.
"Oh, yeah," I say. "Great, really smooth."
Tom laughs at me, "Liar. You fucking hated it."
"What is up with you guys and the f-word tonight?" I say, trying to pull focus from the fact that I did, indeed, hate it.
"We are trying new things," Ben murmurs into his pints and the others laugh.
The night is long and by 11pm everyone has gone home.
"Kelli, Pappy, why don't you two head out. I'm gonna lock up early tonight," Ian says.
"Right-o laddie," Pappy says and he quickly heads to the kitchen for his stuff.
"I'll help you with the stew," I say and go to follow Pappy.
"You don't need to," Ian says, looking like he's a little afraid to be alone with me. But I'm not. I'm the ice queen; I feel nothing. I won't act inappropriately or let him either. I don't answer and go into the kitchen.
"Want a ride home, darlin'?" Pappy asks, his coat already on.
"No, thanks Pappy. I'm going to help Ian with the stew," I say and grab the bags from the shelf.
He nods and exits out the back.
About ten minutes later, Ian comes in. I've already got the stew cooling in a shallow pan and am lining up bags, taping spoons on them.
Ian comes and stands beside me and the silence seems awkward and tense.
"I hear you have a birthday coming up," I say lightly. "The big 3-0, hunh? Man, are you getting old."
"Aren't you 32?" he says, a slight smile in his voice.
"Shut up!" I say and bump my shoulder against his. Instantly, we both stiffen and I step to the right, away from him. Note to self: never touch him again.
"Besides, for your information, 30 is the new 20 for women. So technically, I'm younger than you because that would make me 22 and you're still turning 30. How's that for some logic!"
He chuckles and begins spooning stew into the bags I had set out. "You are a bright one," he says.
"Indeed I am," I say and we lapse into silence again.
Working together, we finish the task quickly.
"Alright, I guess I'll head home," I say, pulling on my coat. "Unless you need help mopping?" I add. I'm praying he'll say yes and I'm praying he'll say no.
"Nah, I'm going to leave it for tomorrow. I'll drive you home."
"Ian -" I begin and he cuts me off with a look. I can't help but feel a little warmth thinking about how protective he still is over me.
We head out and get into his truck. He settles into his seat, buckling up, but doesn't turn on the ignition.
He's staring straight ahead, his hands in his lap. "Ian?" I say, quietly.
He looks at me then. "How are you Kelli? How, how are you doing? With, it all," he says, gesturing between the two of us.
The question throws me for a loop. I'm very surprised he's asking. I'm surprised he's even thinking about things like this. I stop and think for a moment, determined to give him an honest answer.
"Well, truth be told, I'm pretty shitty," I say with a rueful smile and he laughs. "Intellectually, I've reconciled myself to the situation. I get it, I do," I say, nodding at him. "But, well, it still hurts like hell, Ian. It isn't like I've stopped loving you."
He nods, but doesn't say anything.
"What about you?" I ask. "How do you feel?"
He looks at me then and even in the dim light from the nearby street lamp, I can see the longing in his eyes. "I wish you'd get another job," he says.
I throw my head back and laugh. Laugh, so I don't cry. "Yeah, well, me too, buddy. I'm trying, alright? It isn't easy. I apply to about five jobs a day."
"I miss you," he says softly.
I look at him, my brows furrowed. "Um … well, first off, I'm still here. Secondly, you just told me you wished I was gone. Confused much?"
He's staring at his hands, now placed on the steering wheel. "I want you to get a new job because it hurts me to see you everyday. It hurts me because even though you are right there, right there in front of me, close enough to touch, you're really far away at the same time." He looks at me now. "Does that make sense? You are there - you are here - but your heart isn't. You've taken your heart and hidden it away, and even though you smile and crack jokes, ‘you' aren't here. And I miss you."
What the fuck?!
"Yeah, well, you gave me my heart back, so I put it on a shelf. I don't have a lot of use for it right now."
"I know," he says. "I know I did this. But you asked how I felt. I miss you, that's how I feel."
He turns on the truck and quickly backs out of the lot. We drive to my place in silence.
******
It's Friday night and the pub is packed. The slowdown we'd been experiencing through the holidays is over and the crowds have returned in force. I'm currently behind the bar with Sean. It is a little terrifying being behind the bar on a Friday night, but Ian is dealing with some critical vendor issue in the kitchen, so there isn't much of a choice. I try and console myself with the fact that I am helping, and that if it were just Sean, then folks would have to wait even longer for their drinks.
"Look at you go," Tom says from behind his normal stool. He got here late and a couple of women are sharing it.
"I'm a regular Tom Cruise from Cocktail," I say as I add an unnecessary flourish to the shot I'm pouring.
"Way to date yourself, Kel," Abby chimes in.
"Oh Kelli, you don't need to date yourself. I'd be happy to date you," Wilson says. We all laugh. Wilson has had a little more to drink than normal tonight and his cheeks are pink and he's swaying a little on his stool.
"If we're talking about dating Kelli, I'd like to get in on that conversation." The voice isn't familiar and I pull in a deep breath when I see Jake standing there.
He looks good; tall, clean shaven, athletic. His beautiful smile is spread across his face and I can't help it, but man is he a sight for sore eyes. Everything with Ian has been so emotional, so difficult. I feel so rejected and hurt; having Jake staring at me with warm eyes almost makes me forget that he was a selfish lover. Almost.
"Hey there," I say, remembering that he left my place without taking my number. Alright, warm fuzzy moment over. No men want me. I'm a loser. Go me. "Long time no see."
"I had no idea you worked here," he said, pushing in between two stools to get a little closer.
"What'll it be?" I ask.
"A Corona," he says. "How long have you worked here?"
"A couple months," I say as I stand from taking the beer out of the fridge under the bar.
"Did you work here when we hooked up?" he asks.
Suddenly, I feel Ian behind me. I look over my shoulder and although he isn't looking at Jake, I can tell he's pissed. His entire body is stiff and tension is rolling off him in waves. For a split second I consider flirting with Jake. Ian has caused me so much pain that I want to give him a small measure of it back. It would be a nice answer to his little act with Cindy. But I decide against it. We've both been hurt so much by this whole experience; the best thing is to move on. And while Jake's cute, I know I'm not interested in moving on with him.