I grab the remote from the coffee table and press the power button with more force than necessary before tossing it on the sofa. Eric is staring at me like I have two heads. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, sorry. I just hate those programs.” I pull my legs under me on the sofa. I’m not sure what time it is, but it has to be late if Eric is home. “You said he left a note.”
“Here you go.” He hands it to me before standing and walking toward the hallway. “I wasn’t going to wake you up, but you’d probably be more comfortable in your bed.” He takes a step back. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, thanks.” I wait until he turns the corner, and is out of sight before lifting the napkin to my face. It’s creative, I’ll give him that.
You looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to wake you. Call me in the morning and let me know what your schedule is for the rest of the week. Maybe we can grab dinner before our schedules are too busy. Miss you already.
A part of me wants to text him and thank him for the note, but the other part knows that probably isn’t a great idea. Not because he wouldn’t welcome it, but because he’s most likely asleep. At least normal people are.
Pushing the blanket off me, I stand and grab it. The note is still clutched in my hand, and I head to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. I look around for our food mess, but I’m assuming he cleaned it up before leaving. It feels like something he would do.
My feet drag as I make my way to my room. The door is still open, and I close it behind me. After setting the napkin on the dresser, I turn toward my bed and fall into it face first. I don’t even feel like digging through my stuff for the pillows. I’m too tired, and that is now a tomorrow problem.
My butt vibrates as my phone goes off. There’s only one person it can be, but I don’t feel like talking. I’ll call him in the morning like the note says. I pull the phone out of my pocket and toss it somewhere above me on the bed.
With any luck tomorrow will be a slow day. I don’t know if I can handle another day like this. I forgot how busy it gets, especially since it’s the only bar in town.
Eric should have let me sleep on the couch because now a million thoughts are flashing through my mind and making sleep next to impossible. I keep my eyes closed hoping I’ll doze off in the meantime.
“How do you feel about starting bartending training tonight?” Carlos leans against the bar and awaits my answer.
“But the one I chose doesn’t start until next week.” Tonight, is a little soon, and I haven’t mentally prepared myself for that kind of pressure.
“I know, I know.” He waves his hands toward me, already knowing I’m about to spiral, and trying to get me to calm down. “But the class you want is full. You can start tonight, or push it out to the next class.”
“What all does it entail?”
He waves Delilah over to him and whispers something to her. She relieves me from the host stand and I move toward the bar so Carlos and I can talk without it being broadcast to the whole bar.
“Nothing and everything all in one?” He shrugs his shoulders. “They’ll teach you what you need to know for your server certification, but they also show you how to break down and set up the bar. You’ll learn how to make drinks, especially the popular ones.”
“Couldn’t Eric show me how to do all that and I get my certification some other way?” Yes, it’s fear trying to talk me out of this, but what if I screw up. I’ll be a disappointment to both Carlos and Angie. I can’t believe after all these years my mom’s voice is still in the back of my head telling me I’ll never be good enough. But there it is, and I don’t know that it’ll ever change.
“He could, and you could get your certification online, but…attending a class lets you go through the entire process in one swoop. And you’ll find that you develop your own little twists to some of the drinks. It’s something that helps you stand out to customers, and what keeps them coming back.” He puts an arm over my shoulder. “Besides, have you seen how busy we’ve been? There’s no way Eric would have the time to teach you and work the bar at the same time.”
He’s right. It’s not like I’m paying for the class myself. They said they would take care of it. “How long do the classes last?”
“Two weeks.” His arm drops and he moves in front of me. “Four hours a day during the week, except this one runs Tuesday through Saturday. And the Saturday sessions are in the morning.”
That really isn’t that long, and I’m sure I’ll make friends easily. I always do, and it’s why they want me to be a bartender. He watches me puzzle it out in my head, and it’s kind of funny. “Fine,” I groan. “I’ll start tonight. Will I be able to get off slightly earlier to make it to class on time?”
“Of course. We’ll work it out.” He pats my shoulder, and the grin on his face helps lessen the fears, at least a little. “I’ll go call them now and get them your information.”
“Sounds good. I’m just gonna go over there and do my job.” I point toward the stand where Delilah is grinning. He doesn’t have anything to say to that and he heads back to the office. “Please tell me I can do this?”
Delilah wraps me in a hug. “You’ve totally got this. In fact, you’re going to be so good, you’ll give Eric a run for his money.”
“I don’t want it to be a competition.”
“For sure, but he’s competitive in nature. It’ll be friendly fun.” She starts to leave my station, but turns back toward me. “By the way, how’s it going rooming with him? We haven’t had the chance to talk much.”
“I mean, it’s only been like a day,” I shake my head. “We’ll need groceries for sure. I don’t think he actually cooks anything besides frozen food. He did wake me up after I fell asleep on the couch last night and told me to go to bed. Then it took forever to fall asleep again.”
“He was playing mother hen. He’s like that with literally everyone. I think it’s because his mom is that way with him. Which is also why he rarely cooks. If he doesn’t have frozen dinners, he usually has food his mom sends home with him.”
Those few statements are a punch to the gut. I would give anything to have a mom who even cared where I was. Or actually wanted to do anything for me that didn’t benefit her. “Is she a good cook?”
