The instructor waits a few moments, leaving me in suspense. It’s question time, and I am completely ready for this part. First, he asks me what date people have to have been born in order to be served. That’s easy. Then he asks me what the serving limit is for patrons. It takes me a few moments to answer that one. But when I do, he nods.
I glance at the liquor bottles left. So far margarita and whiskey are gone. There’s a bottle of vodka, gin, rum, and brandy. Now I’m anxious over what drink he’s going to have me make. There’s only three I practiced with and two of them are out.
He crooks his head to the side, no doubt trying to decide which drink to give me. I do my best to exude confidence. My back and shoulders are straight. I don’t fidget, or make any move that can be construed as nerves. “Lisa, I’d like you to make a martini.”
Okay, there are a few ways to make this, and I need to clarify even though I feel like the question is straight out of that action move. “Sir, shaken or stirred?”
He smiles and nods appreciatively. It appears I’ve passed that little test. And this is another one I’ve practiced. I grab the vermouth and vodka. He doesn’t take off points if we use a measuring cup so I grab the stainless-steel cup that looks like an hour glass. Flipping it over until the correct measurement is facing up, I add the vodka until it hits the line. I grab the scoop and pour ice into the shaker before adding the vodka and splash of vermouth. Putting the top on the shaker I give it a few good shakes. One thing I learned is I need two hands to do the shaker. Those people who use one are freaking rockstars and I hope to be like them one day.
Setting the shaker down, I grab the martini glass and add vermouth to it before swirling it around and dumping it. Next is pouring the vodka mixture in. I grab a toothpick and two olives to finish off the drink and slide it across the bar top.
It felt like I was doing the motions in slow motion and like it was taking forever, but honestly, it’s been a couple of minutes max. He reaches out and takes a sip. “It’s good, Lisa. Where did you learn the vermouth trick in the glass?”
“A friend of mine when I was practicing make the drinks at home.”
He nods appreciatively. “Keep them around. They know what they’re doing.” As if I’d ever let Eric stop being my friend. He’s annoying as hell sometimes, but he’s always looks out for me. Even if it comes with some tough love.
I make my way back over to the line of students waiting for their turn. Joan wraps me in a hug. “You did amazing. It’s a good thing you have a job lined up after this.”
“You know I could always hook you up with a job.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. I know my bosses are always looking for good help.”
“Thank you so much.” The both of us step back from the group, letting them discuss amongst themselves. “So, when are you going to spill the beans about what is really going on with you? I know it wasn’t just over the test.”
For someone who has known me for a short amount of time, she sure does get me. I wonder if it’s something that comes with age. I mean she’s not a lot older than me, but she seems to have some wisdom I can desperately use. Things I can’t go to Delilah about because Devin is her brother.
“So, the guy I’ve been seeing, he’s in a band. There’s a popular band who is coming to the bar tonight to see them and a few other bands play. They’ll be there tomorrow night, too. The whole reason they are coming is because they want to bring someone on tour with them. And I have a feeling my boyfriend’s band will be picked.”
Gah, saying it like that sounds dumb and selfish on my part. But it’s something I can’t get over. The constant need to make sure people in my life aren’t going to leave me behind. Even though that’s exactly what I did when I left Asheville the first time, and what I’ve done for most of my adult life. I run. Plus, the fact that I couldn’t even say he’s my boyfriend because I’m not sure that’s true anymore. We haven’t talked since I told him to leave aside from a few texts making sure I got home okay.
“Are there some underlying issues there? Because I’d think you’d be excited for him. That sounds like a pretty big deal.”
I tell her everything I went through as kid. The way my mom would forget I even existed, and when she did remember how badly she treated me. How she’d leave me alone for days at a time and I’d have to figure out how to feed myself. My only saving grace was we had neighbors who paid attention and would bring me food when they noticed my mom leave. All she cared about was men and material things. I was the thing that got in the way of that.
“Look, honey, you can tell me if I’m overstepping, but I think you should see a therapist.”
“What? I don’t need one of those.” Do I?
“I’m not saying you do.” She places a hand on her shoulder, reassuring me. “But it might be a good idea to talk to one and work past the trauma of your childhood. Because that’s what it is…trauma. And it affects every other relationship you have in your life until you start to work through it.”
I never really thought of it that way. I know I had a shitty childhood, but so many other kids had it way worse than I ever did. “Do you really think it could help?”
“Yes, I do. You can’t live your life in fear of everyone treating you the same way, and if you find the right one, they will help you come to terms with that.”
She’s right. I do live my life in fear. Fear of disappointing people. Of people leaving me behind. Not being enough. It’s the reason I run so much, until Asheville. There was no point in getting close to people. Then…they couldn’t hurt me. I’ve done one thing that scares me today. Maybe it’s time to do something else.
There are two more people who need to go though and make a drink, then class will be dismissed and I can head back to Asheville. I’m not sure I can do it alone, though. “Hey Joan, what plans do you have tonight?”
“Nothing really,” she shrugs, “my dad and step-mom have the kids until tomorrow after class. I was going to go home and have a self-care night.”
“What do you think about going to see some bands play tonight?”
She bites her lip. “I don’t know. It’s kind of far for me to drive down there and back by myself.”
“Don’t worry about that, you can stay at my place. I’m sure my roommate won’t mind.” I’m willing her to say yes with everything in me. I also can’t help but wonder if she’s been through something similar and that’s why she suggested therapy. Maybe she does know how I feel.
