Page 3 of Ghost

I don't even know what I want to do with the rest of my life. We got Dad's diagnosis when I was twenty-one, and I had to drop out of college to get a full-time job to help support him. He had fought me on it, but dropping out was no sacrifice. He needed me, and I was going to be there for him. One of Dad's good friends offered me a job at his bar, so I took it. Mr. Sullivan has always been like an uncle to me. I still work at Sullivan's to this day.

"Hey, Bea. I didn't know you were on tonight," Hadley, one of the other waitresses at Sullivan's, says as she breezes into the break room.

I look down at my dinner that I've barely touched and realize I've spent most of my break in a daze. Standing, I toss my half-eaten sandwich and chips into the trash. "Sullivan called me last minute, because Lane was a no-show again," I tell her.

Hadley shakes her head. "I can't believe he hasn't canned her ass already."

"Yeah, but you know how the old man is. His heart is too soft. And he did promise me I could take Monday off if I came in, giving me a three-day weekend." Which I’m looking forward to. Because of Lane, I haven't had a day off in nine days.

"That will be nice." Hadley smiles. "Any big plans with your time off?"

I huff out a laugh. "Not likely. I have a mountain of laundry to wash, a sink full of dishes, and my grass needed mowing two weeks ago."

"Boring," Hadley sing-songs, then snaps her fingers. "I know. How about you come with me to the East of Addiction concert this weekend? My brother is working security at the venue and snagged me a pair of tickets."

"Hmm."

"Look; just think about it and let me know by Friday night. If you don't come with me, I'll be forced to take my little sister." She scrunches her nose.

I laugh. "Fine, I'll think about it."

Tying an apron around my waist, I make my way behind from the break room and onto the main floor, where I'm assaulted with the smell of beer and chicken wings. I smile over at Sully, behind the bar, then make my way to my section, where one of our regulars is seated. "Evening, Russ." Russ has been coming into Sullivan's at least three times a week for the past year, and he always sits in my section. I'd put Russ in his mid-thirties with brown hair, brown eyes, and glasses. Most days, he wears suits, and I always pegged him as a teacher or an accountant, though I've never asked. Russ keeps to himself. He has never gotten handsy like other men do when they drink too much, and he always orders the same thing.

"Good evening, Beatrix." Russ pushes his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose.

"You want your usual?" I ask.

"Yes."

"No problem. I'll put your order in and be back with your drink."

Turning, I weave through the tables and make my way up to the bar.

"I already put the order in for a cheeseburger and onion rings." Sully sets a bottle of light beer and a bottle of water on my tray.

"Thanks, Sully."

He nods and continues down the bar to tend to the two women sitting down.

"Here ya go, Russ." I set the water and beer down on the table. "Your grub will be out in about five minutes. Can I get you anything else?"

"Thanks, Beatrix."

As the night winds down, my feet are screaming, and my back is aching.

"Hey, Bea. You want to get the door?" My boss jerks his chin toward the last patron, who is now leaving.

"Sure." I shuffle behind the man and offer a smile. "Have a good night." I lock the door and begin clearing the empty bottles and wiping down the tables.

"Was he the last one?" Hadley asks.

"Yup," I call out.

"Oh, thank god." She collapses into one of the booths, and I follow suit and sit down across from her. "You had a rowdy bunch tonight."

"You aren't lying. College kids are the worst. And they don't tip worth a shit."

"Yeah, well, next time I see those little piss-ants in here, I'm tossing them out," Sully grumbles.

---