Page 30 of Reconnected Hearts
There’s a cart on the sidewalk where a man is selling magazines, snacks, and cigarettes. A young couple is happily arguing over which chips to buy.
The woman has long, brown curls. She’s smiling ear-to-ear at the man she’s with as he tries tirelessly to convince her that cheddar chips are the only real option. She’s laughing at him. They look so easy together, so simple. I wonder what makes them any different from Lucy and me.
Maybe the girl hasn’t had her heart broken. Maybe the boy knows when to quit.
Maybe they just got lucky.
That’s it,I tell myself.No more thinking about Lucy.
It should be easy enough to distract myself in such a big, exciting city. Maybe I could go shopping for a souvenir for Betty, or maybe I could find a nice cafe to sit down in with a cup of coffee and prepare for my interview tomorrow afternoon.
I decide to wander until something catches my eye and observe the scenery in the meantime. I people-watch, amused by the college students already out drinking the night away. I was never much of a party animal in college. Sometimes I wonder if I missed out on the college experience by putting all of my time and effort into my grades.
Somehow, with that thought in mind, I find myself drifting into a dive bar downtown. It’s still early, but the place is already packed. Voices ring out over the roaring music and I can already feel myself regretting the decision to come here.
But, hey, maybe it’s time to let loose and make some bad choices.
I make my way to the stools at the bar and greet the bartender—a middle-aged brunette woman—with a smile.
“What can I get you?” she asks pleasantly, screwing the top back onto a bottle.
It occurs to me that I don’t know what to order. I don’t really drink much and when I do, it’s just whatever’s around. I’ve never had to prove my alcoholic competence before.
The bartender seems to notice me struggling because she laughs and offers helpfully, “You want a beer, sweetie?”
I feel about three feet tall, but nod with a sheepish smile.
“Alright, beer it is. Got an ID I can check?”
Again, I nod and pull my driver’s license from my wallet. She studies it for a moment and hums in approval, pouring my drink while I shove the card back into its rightful place.
“So, what brings you in tonight?” she asks as she hands over the foaming beer.
“Thank you.” I gratefully accept the drink and take a sip, wincing at the sour taste. I swallow thickly and look up at the woman, who seems entirely too amused. “Girl troubles,” I finally respond. “And airport troubles. And family troubles. And job troubles.”
She inhales sharply through her teeth. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” She leans against the counter and props her chin against her fist. “Well, let’s see,” she begins thoughtfully. “Can’t fix the airport troubles. Probably not the job troubles either. I’m not very good when it comes to families, so I guess that leaves your girl issues, and you just so happen to be in luck, because that’s my specialty.”
Oh, great, I think.I came here to forget about Lucy, and now I have to talk about her.It occurs to me, though, that maybe an objective female perspective on the situation might be good.Just as long as Lucy never finds out because she wouldkillme for talking about our drama with a stranger. Luckily, Lucy isn’t here.
“There’s this girl I knew back in college. She was a hothead and downright stubborn, but she was passionate, you know? We bickered a lot and just rubbed each other up the wrong way. We parted ways after I left the class we shared together and I never really thought about her again. But then, because my life is one big, celestial joke, she had the seat next to mine on my flight yesterday. We reconnected, one thing led to another, and we...well, we got pretty close last night. I really enjoyed it and I thought she did too, but today, she wants nothing to do with me. Well, that’s not true. Shedoes, but only for about five minutes at a time and then she changes her mind. I’m just confused, and it sucks because I think I really like her, but she has this shitty idea of me in her head that I don’t think I can fix.”
The bartender purses her lips and seems to think for a moment.
“Well, what have you tried to fix so far?”
What have I done to try to fix it? Good question.
“Um, let’s see...I talked to her. And then—er—I talked to her some more. And then…” I grimace. “And then I decided that it would be best if I ended it. For her. I don’t think I can be what she needs right now... But I think I regret it. I didn’t give us a chance, maybe we could be great together you know?”
“Oh…” The woman reels back with a frown. “Yeah, that’s not so good, kid. She can make her own mind up if she wants you, if you want her you should tell her. Don’t make the decision for her”
“Yeah, you’re telling me.” I scoff and take another long sip of my drink. I really donotlike the taste of beer.
“Let me give you some advice,” the woman proposes. “Most of the time, a problem needs to be fixed with actions, not words. You can say you’re sorry and you don’t mean it. but she has no way of knowing whether you meant it. If youshowher, though, maybe you just might have a shot.”
I perk up at that little piece of wisdom. This whole time, Lucy has been telling me that she can’t trust me. It never occurred to me that I hadn’t given her areasonto trust me.
“And I would do that by…” I prompt hopefully, making the woman chuckle. She removes the nearly untouched pint in front of me and pours it out.
