Wine and Spirits

"What's his deal?" Eddie asked from behind the bar. He gave a suspicious nod toward the man seating himself at the table in the far corner.

"He's harmless, Eddie. Just leave him be," Lily replied, not even looking up to see who he was talking about. She tried to act nonchalant, hoping he'd drop the subject but suspecting he wouldn't.

Eddie could be a pompous blowhard when sober and an insufferable jackass with even a little bit of alcohol in him. The latter seemed to be the case most of the time, though, and even tonight, she'd noticed him imbibing while on the clock.

Unfortunately, keeping Eddie on staff was a stipulation Doc insisted on before gifting the bar to her. He had others, too—'provisos' he called them—provisions that would have seemed strange if they'd come from anyone else. No advertising—No decorating for holidays—No televisions—No karaoke (or any music, for that matter, besides the jukebox, but even that could only be used by customers if the bar was open). But this proviso—seemingly the most benign of them all—confounded her the most.

"He has no people-skills, Doc," she argued. "And he isn't just awkward, either. I could work with that. He's downright rude sometimes and not only to me but to the customers! Please, cut me some slack on this. I've agreed to everything else!"

"Non-negotiable," was his staunch reply.

Normally, Lily was a tenacious optimist, always looking for and finding the good in people. But Eddie was a tough case even for her—a really tough case—and under any other management, he wouldn't have lasted half this long. But she intended to keep her word, not only because Doc still liked to drop in every once in a while, but because it was the right thing to do.

"This place can't afford customers hogging tables all night, Lily. I'm going to go take care of this." Eddie threw a towel onto the bar and puffed out his chest as if he was about to bounce the man out of the place.

"Whoa, whoa whoa! Hold on there just a minute! If there's anything this place can't afford, Eddie, its employees drinking the profits. And I already told you to leave him be. That's not how we do things here and you should know that by now. Not to mention, he's one of my regulars."

"That doesn't mean he can..."

"Aww," she interrupted quickly with an insincerely sweet tone. "You thought I was asking for your opinion, didn't you? That would explain why we're still talking about this, wouldn't it?" Her words dripped with sarcasm. Then, just as quickly, she ditched the fake sweetness in her voice. "I'm not asking, Edward."

"Fine...But so help me, if he's still here at closing time..."

"Dammit, Eddie!" she snapped, reaching the limit of tolerating his incessant posturing. "He will still be here and you already know it. And you will still leave him alone! Just like you'll do when he shows up next Friday and the Friday after that and the Friday after that! Got it? Good!"

He was never going to win—even if she wasn't his boss. The only thing he was actually succeeding at was pissing her off.

"Well...I guess I can give him a pass. This place is half-dead anyway."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever you have to tell yourself."

"For the record, Lily, there's nothing worse than a half-dead bar, especially on a Friday night. I don't know how this place stays open."

"Listen, Mister Know-it-all. I know what Doc built here and money was never the point—or even big crowds. We're here for those souls who do show up—no matter who or how many of them there are or how many drinks they buy. And in case you didn't notice, we're still here, you haven't missed a paycheck and we're doing just fine. So, we're not a typical bar—I'm glad we're not. Have you still not figured anything out?" She paused to gauge his reaction. It was blank.

"Well, either way, you need to get on board. I agreed to keep you on for no other reason than Doc made me. But you're under no obligation to stay if you're as miserable as you make it sound. You can leave any time you want and I certainly won't stop you. Now would you mind too terribly much doing your job and getting this paying customer his drinks? Or would you rather whine some more?"

"Damn, Lily. You're like the annoying big sister I never wanted." He stuck his tongue out at her. "By the way, he hasn't ordered yet so I can't make his drinks, now can I? Hell, you haven't even gone over there yet."

"Seriously, Eddie? How long has Doc been training you? And you still don't pay attention to your customers? Not even the regulars?!"

He had no answer. Sure, he knew this guy was a regular. He'd been coming in every Friday night since before he'd started working at Doc's Place. But the truth was, he knew next to nothing about the man. All he knew was that he sat at that same table every Friday night and then camped there for way too long. Oh, and he was weird—like most of the other folks who came here. Then again, if it weren't for the weird customers, this place might not have any at all.

"Do you at least know one of the drinks he always gets?"

Again, silence—but this time coupled with a strained expression on his face. He was trying to preserve some measure of dignity by recalling even one of the drinks. Instead, he just looked an uncomfortable kind of constipated—losing even more dignity in Lily's eyes.

"Wow, Eddie. Just wow." She seemed surprised and, at the same time, not surprised at all. "Red..." she coaxed.

"Red wine!" he interrupted her abruptly, as if it had been on the tip of his tongue already.

"And a Fu..."

"Funky Monkey," again, he interrupted quickly—too quickly, this time.

"No!" she said sharply. "A red wine, a Fuzzy Navel, and a water."

She waited while he made the drinks for her. At least he'd paid attention to Doc about that part of the job—'consistent pours' had been drilled into his head and she'd never heard even a single complaint about his drinks. It was only the 'everything else' about Eddie that drove her nuts. She shook her head in frustration and wondered what Doc saw in him.

"For the record, Eddie, you're like the stinky, snotty, obnoxious, little brother that I never wanted but my parents adopted anyway." She stuck her tongue out at him as she grabbed the drinks and headed to the corner table.

"Hiya Nick, I assumed you'd want your Friday night usual?"

"Yeah, thanks, Lily." The man looked up, feeling both welcomed and embarrassed at the same time.

He knew people talked. He knew they thought he'd lost his mind—in particular, the bartender who always seemed to be glowering at him. He tried not to let it bother him, but it was more than a little unnerving.

Nick first showed up here the night his fiancé left him. And now, like clockwork, he came back every Friday night—hoping she'd meet him so he could try again to convince her not to leave him. Against all hope, he still held on desperately to the chance she might change her mind and they could resume their romance—as if nothing had happened.

"Lily? Did I do something to piss off the bartender? Did I forget to tip or something?"

"No," she rolled her eyes as she glanced back at Eddie and tried to throw him a glare that said knock-it-off! "Unfortunately, that's just him, Nick. I'm sorry. We're still trying to train him. But hey, at least he doesn't pee on the carpet anymore."

Nick chuckled—not quite a full laugh. "Okay. I thought for sure I'd done something wrong."

"No, not at all...But hey, Nick" Lily started cautiously, "if you ever need to talk..."

"Yeah, I know..." he cut her off abruptly. "Thank you, though."

"Yeah." Her face wore the disappointment she felt. He'd rejected her offer yet again. "Well...okay. Do you think she'll show up tonight?"

"I really don't know...Sometimes she does; sometimes she doesn't...You know how it goes."

"Well, I'm just saying..." she tried again, "...if she doesn't...and you wouldn't mind the company...I'm here."

"Thanks, Lily. I really do appreciate it. But...would you mind leaving me now? I mean, no offense, but she might get the wrong idea if she walks in and finds me talking to a pretty woman."

She chuckled quietly. "Why would I be offended by that, Nick? You just said I was pretty."

He fumbled for a response. "Uh, that's not the point I was trying to make."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just teasing. But still, thank you." She thought it was cute how easily he embarrassed. "Well...If you need a refill or anything, just let me know."

She knew he wouldn't need a refill. He never did—just the two drinks and, in all likelihood, the wine would be left untouched.

She returned to her usual position near the front door, in case another customer showed up. But she kept her eye on him. A few minutes later, she watched as his eyes grew wide and a smile swept across his face as he stood from his seat. Oh, Nick. I hope it goes better this time.

She silently agonized from her perch across the room—like a mother nervously watching her child recite their lines in a play. His fiancé didn't often show up, but when she did, she usually left him in short order and an emotional mess.

For a brief moment, he smiled, as he always did at first. She loved his full smile, though she rarely got to see it, especially on nights when his fiancé didn't show. The most she could usually get from him then was a half smile. But even on those nights, he never gave up—staying until they closed down for the night. She admired that about him. He was the very definition of a hopeless romantic.

Eddie finished cleaning some glasses, then moved to stand next to Lily. "Who's he talking to?"

"Hmm?" She'd barely noticed Eddie or heard his question.

"I asked who he's talking to."

"Oh, his fiancé...Sarah."

"Really? How do you know that?"

"Easy. I talk to my customers, Eddie. You should try it sometime." She wasn't actually angry with him anymore—only ribbing him, now.

"Yeah...yeah...So, I guess you've known what's-his-face a long time now?"

"His name is Nick, and yeah, I've known him since he started coming here...not quite a year ago."

"Damn! He's been coming here like this a whole year?"

"Not a full year, no. They were supposed to be meeting for a Friday night date but got into a huge fight. He ended up here, I don't know how, and started waiting for her."

"Let me guess, she didn't show?"

"Not that first time, no. But he kept coming back...every Friday night. Always ordered her a drink, just in case. And then, one night, I couldn't believe it...she actually showed up."

"Hey, this will sound weird maybe...but...have you ever talked to her?"

"Well...I've tried."

"And?"

"I don't know. I guess she doesn't want to talk to me. Who knows. Maybe she thinks I'm a threat." She looked back at Eddie and shrugged her shoulders.

"Are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, don't get defensive. I'm just saying..."

"Saying what, exactly?"

"Well...I've seen how you look at him...just seems like maybe you have a thing for him."

"I think we're done here, Edward. Don't you have some glasses to wash?"

"Oh yeah," he cracked. "We're just flying through them glasses tonight."

"Go wash some glasses, Eddie!" She couldn't help but smirk after he turned away; he was right, after all.

After hearing some of Nick's story, Eddie started to wonder about the other customers. How each of them found themselves at Doc's Place was wide and varied and he knew none of their stories. He was convinced, of course, that Lily knew them all.

Perhaps some were drawn in by the lighted neon sign that read 'The Doctor is In.' Maybe others stumbled in having suddenly noticed the place, even though they had to have walked past it a hundred times. And still others, he figured, wouldn't even be able to tell you themselves.

How so many misfits found Doc's place was a mystery to him. From the outside, it seemed odd and out of place—a neon oasis in the middle of an industrial district. Yet, on the inside, it was somehow welcoming in a very unassuming way—like a stone-hearth fireplace is, even when there's no fire in it. Some might call it 'ambience' but it felt a little more spiritual than that.

He glanced over at Nick, still the only one doing any talking at his table and only occasionally sipping his drink. The fact that he would only buy the one drink the entire night simply meant he fit in with the other customers.

And that was another thing these customers all seemed to have in common. They clearly didn't come to this bar for the drinking which only underscored what aggravated Eddie the most about working here—the customers were just plain weird. But then, who was he to talk? After all, he was once a customer here, himself.

He recalled the night he first showed up at Doc's Place with a group of so-called friends. 'So-called' because before the night was through, they had all ditched him, sneaking out while he'd gone to the restroom so they could continue their partying somewhere else without him.

He'd always been the awkward fringe guy in the group. The guy who always laughed last to a joke after everyone else was winding it down. The guy who seemed to be out of sync with his surroundings. The guy who always lurked just outside the circle, instead of being in it.

He also remembered that Doc was behind the bar that night. Somehow, Doc caught his attention and pointed to a seat at the bar. Before he knew it, Doc was introducing himself and sliding a glass of whiskey in front of him.

"On the house, son," Doc told him.

"Uh, thanks. I'm not usually a whiskey guy, but, uh...maybe I need this." He placed his nose above the glass and opened his mouth slightly, then inhaled a few quick sniffs.

"Not a whiskey guy?"

Eddie snickered. "Actually, no. I've just seen my friends do this right before they start talking about 'palates' and 'polite greetings.' Honestly, I was faking it. I know nothing about whiskey except I like it okay." He slowly stopped laughing at himself. "Hmm...I guess I'm always trying to impress people..." He took a small swig and set the glass down. "So, old timer, how'd I do? Did I screw up drinking whiskey, too?"

Doc chuckled. "There's no right or wrong, son. But, if that's what you need to hear, you did just fine."

Eddie smiled. For some reason, he felt comfortable here, like he could let his guard down with the gentle old man. Being in Doc's company felt natural and free, even though those kinds of feelings were mostly foreign to him.

Eddie and Doc talked for over an hour, mostly about nothing, though Eddie somehow sensed some purpose behind the seeming randomness of their conversation.

"I'm glad you found your way to my bar, son. This is a pretty special place, even if I am a bit partial. We tend to get two types of people here: folks with unfinished business and folks who are—how can I put it?— stuck, I guess."

"Stuck?"

"Yeah, you know, lost their way maybe, trying to find it again, that sort of thing. Anyway, you land in either one of those groups?"

"I guess I'm the latter, Doc, except...well, I don't know. Can you lose your way if you never had one to begin with?"

"Hmm." He seemed to mulling something over. "I'm going to level with you, son, if that's okay. I'm in the 'unfinished business' camp myself. I bought this place a long time ago, been tending bar ever since. But it's just about 'last call' for me. And since I'm here tonight...and so are you...maybe we can help each other out."

"I'm not following."

"Well, how 'bout I just keep it simple. How'd you like a job bartending? Now, before you say 'no', there's more to it than just making drinks, but I'll teach you everything you need to know and then some. If it works out, you might find that direction you're looking for and I might be able to rest knowing I've passed on the torch, so to speak."

"Well, Doc. Can I think about it? I mean, maybe it's the whiskey talking, but it does sound intriguing. I just think I should probably decide when I know for sure I'm sober."

"By all means. Maybe you can stop by tomorrow with your decision."

The next day, he did return and immediately started learning under Doc's direction, much to the chagrin of Lily. Every new hair-brain idea Doc came up with from then on would be something she'd have to deal with later, once he officially turned the reigns over to her.

Now, nearly six months later, even Eddie wondered if Doc was wrong about him. Maybe I can't do this job. Maybe I can't even pour liquids into glasses without messing things up. He glanced back at Lily, who was still leaning on the end of the bar, still watching the man at the corner table. Then he scanned the bar; most of the place was empty. The few tables that were occupied only had one person at them or, at the most, two.

He leaned beneath the counter to sneak another sip. Well, Eddie, if you're going to be a bad bartender, it might as well be here. Cheers to the shitty bartender.

It had been just over a month and Lily figured Sarah was about due to make another appearance. But she had her back turned to the door momentarily and missed it when she did. She didn't see Sarah peering in through the window nor did she hear the bell above the door ring out when she entered. She did feel a slight breeze, though, as Sarah made her way past, heading straight away to the back where Nick was waiting.

She watched him rise to greet her with a huge cheesy smile plastered across his face.

"Please, don't look at me that way, Nick." Sarah pleaded.

"Look at you how? I'm glad to see you. I'm glad you came."

"That doesn't mean I've changed my mind. This can't happen. I think you know that. You do know that, right?" She hadn't even sat down and was already getting straight to the point.

"Sarah, why? How many times do I have to say I'm sorry? I never should have said those things to you. There's not a day goes by I don't wish I could take them back. And maybe then, you wouldn't have stormed off and maybe then..."

"But you did say them. You can't take back things like 'maybe we're not meant to be together.' And the truth is, you were right."

"No...but, I wasn't. I was completely wrong."

"Please stop this, Nick. Just because you feel guilty doesn't mean you were wrong. For whatever reasons, this is just how things were meant to be. And you shouldn't feel guilty—not for being honest with someone."

"No, Sarah. Please don't say things like that."

"But it's true. Don't you understand? It's true. You did nothing wrong. And trying to hold on to this idea of 'us' isn't right. It's actually quite dishonest."

Nick's face suddenly looked heartsick. He knew what she was about to say; she said it nearly every time she visited.

"Nick, I was never your true love. And you weren't mine...I don't love you."

His eyes were already wet, pregnant with tears that woudn't fall.

"That doesn't mean I don't still care about you, though. I only want to know you'll be okay. I need to know that. But...I can see you're not there yet and that makes me sad."

"Oh god, Sarah, please don't leave...you're about to leave, aren't you?"

From Lily's vantage point at the bar, it looked like he was begging. Oh, Nick, no...not again... She longed to reach out to him, to tell him he wasn't alone. She wanted to be the one to be there for him. And yet, she knew, he'd have to open up to her in his own time. As the scene continued to unfold in front of her, the tears that refused to land on his cheek, somehow landed on hers instead.