Page 3 of True Honey
“What the hell can I do, this is way out of my league,” I admitted and he smiled at me.
“I know, if only you didn’t become a useless member of society,” he grumbled along, and I let it slide because if I started that argument, we would be here until he keeled over at the table. “I want to sign my shares over to you,” he said, calm and final.
“That sounds like a lot of responsibility,” I said, not meaning to sound like a child but I was overloaded with information and the more he talked the more sweat formed and I was starting to feel damp and overheated.
“It is.” He took a bite of his pie and made a face before setting his fork down. “I have to convince the board that you’re ready for that responsibility but I can’t when you’re messing around at the stadium all day and screwing women like you’re your fathers son.”
Mom’s eyes widened at the comment and looked at me.
“I don’t...” I tried to dismiss the accusations but he wasn’t finished. “I’m not that bad!”
“If I’m going to convince the board that you can handle this,” he started, and inside all I could scream wasI’m not ready, I can’t handle this, I don’t want it!“Then you need to get yourself a wife, and you need to do it before I die.”
“What?” I choked on my own spit and grabbed for my water glass.
“Awife, Silas. You need to grow up and you need to show the board that you’re serious about your future. They take family men seriously, and right now, you are the exact opposite of that. You spend your days running around with the baseball team instead of running the company that pays for it!” Grandpa raised his voice and I wanted to get loud right back but I held my tongue.
“I can’t just find a wife,” I argued and he narrowed his eyes on me.
“That’s the deal, Silas. Find a wife and keep Harbor out of your Father’s hands.”
COURTNEY
“It gets busy here on game nights, so prepping’s important.” The brunette pointed at the trays of empty salt shakers stacked at the end of the bar. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name. It was something with a K but by the time she had walked me around the main floor of the sports bar I had forgotten anything past that, and she wasn’t wearing a name tag.
“There’s little breaks during the weekdays when we fill them, but don’t stress over it too much, if you don’t get to it, someone will,” she said.
I nodded and took the time to survey my new surroundings. Hilly’s was the only bar on campus, or close to it, I couldn’t quite remember what she had said in her welcome speech. But it was clear that they took the celebration of their sports teams seriously. With packed walls of history, every team had its moments framed eternally on the walls for everyone to see. It was entertaining to see such deep roots, most of the places August and I stopped in were ghost towns, nothing there but an older population just hoping that a tourist would get lost in their small town.
Harbor was immediately different. In the last two days of being here, I’ve noticed that everyone seemed to know someone, there were connections and friendships in every place I looked. The grocery store was teeming with people chatting about their lives, the bank was bustling with conversation about how everyone’s children were growing too fast.
It felt like we’d driven straight into the Twilight Zone: East Coast edition.
“On game nights we separate the tables a little differently because upstairs is VIP only. For now, I’ll keep working that section, it’s been a while since we had a new hire and it’ll take time to work you into the rotation,” she explained. “Plusthe stairs take some getting used to, especially when ten drunk hockey players are yelling like they own the air you breathe.” She rolled her eyes.
“Are they bad? I’ve never worked in a college town.” I confessed. I had nearly fifteen years of waitressing and managed to stick to smaller cafes, local diners and family-owned restaurants. But the tips of a bar forward restaurant called to me. I needed the money.
“Oh,” she sighed and swung around me to the back of the bar to grab something, she whipped out a binder that was full of plastic filing sheets and threw it open. “This is the binder of shame.”
“The what?” I leaned over the counter as she turned it toward me. Each plastic page had a shabby polaroid photo shoved inside with notes written on all sorts of paper, napkins, receipts…
“When a customer is rude or handsy, they get put in the binder. It’s mostly so the part-time girls can warn everyone else. They work the busiest nights on the main floor, and it can get rowdy in here. The baseball team isn’t bad, but stay clear of this one,” she said, pointing to a picture of a guy whose eyes were wide with shock as the flash blinded him. “That’s Colton Todd, he’s awell I didn’t hear you say no, type of handsy.”
“Lovely,” I said, swallowing tightly.
“The football team has its moments, if they win they’re all in here, and they’re all drunk. It’s the running backs you have to watch, they think catching balls and scoring touchdowns makes them God’s gift to the earth. But this isn’t a football town,” she said.
East coast, no,Harbor, was a hockey town.
“The hockey boys—” she sighed, “but only the college boys. Harbor has a minor league and an NHL team, you won’t see the professional guys in here often but you can always tell the difference. Just stick to the bar when the team is here, at least for now. I don’t need a lawsuit during your first week of work.”
“Gotcha,” I said, “stay away from literally every man in the bar.”
“Now you’re getting it,” she said with a small laugh. Maybe there was hope for me to make some friends here in the long run. But I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself, one day at a time. That’s all I could promise myself.
“What other sports are there at Harbor?” I asked, just trying to reroute my thoughts.
“Lacrosse, soccer, water polo, basketball, rugby—” she shrugged, “the list is endless. Harbor is a massive hub for sports.”
