Josiah
Josiah finished setting up the bar and glanced at the clock that had hung on the wall of The Hoppy Hare since the fifties, or so the legend went. He smiled a bit absently as he reached for a glass to make himself a virgin mojito. He could have almost gone “three, two, one, click” when the clock ticked to five o’clock and the back door opened, and chatter poured in.
He mulled the mint as he listened for the banging of the lockers in the staff room, the twins talking as they got ready for opening.
On Wednesdays they ran an open mic night. Wednesday was the only day when they opened at six and not two in the afternoon as they normally did. That meant that on Tuesday nights, Josiah could have a drink or smoke a joint while soaking in the bathtub upstairs in his little apartment. On Wednesday mornings, he slept in and only came downstairs around midday.
He’d owned The Hare for eight years, and the clientele had stayed the same. They were more openly LGBTQ-friendly now—there was even a rainbow flag sticker on the door, and during Pride month they flew an actual flag from the corner of the building. Otherwise it was like it had been when Josiah had first stepped inside the place fifteen years ago and long due some changes he just hadn’t gotten to yet.
The door to the back swung open as the twins ducked in.
“Hey boss!” Yolanda came behind the bar and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “How’s things?”
“Everything ready on that side of the bar?” her twin, Drea, asked as she hopped onto one of the stools.
Josiah smiled at them. “Yep, we’re all set. How are you guys?”
“Oh, we’re fine. Just that Old Man is playing his records a bit loud again.” Yolanda flipped her multicolored dreads over one shoulder then grabbed a rainbow flag scarf from her pocket and began to tie the mass into a more manageable package.
“Yeah, but his home nurse said his hearing loss is getting worse so we kinda expected it,” Drea said, sighing. She scratched the side of her head where she’d buzzed her hair off and frowned. “I just dread the day when the music stops, you know.”
Josiah nodded. He knew. They lived in a duplex next to an elderly man who had been annoying and endearing in equal measure for years now. Again, it struck him how different the twins were. They weren’t identical, but anyone could definitely tell they were twins as they looked very much alike. Their personal styles and characters were so different that there was no way to mix Yolanda with Drea or vice versa.
The back door banged open and heavy steps approached in a rhythm that signaled that their evening crew was now complete. Josiah took a sip of his drink and watched as Drea’s face changed into a hard mask.
Nelson walked into the bar proper, caught the swinging door with his massive hand and let it close carefully. Then he looked at Josiah and the girls.
“Evening, boss, Yolanda.” He nodded and when his gaze fell on Drea, a certain kind of fondness filled his dark eyes. “Drea.”
Yolanda grinned, then began to prep her drinks station, not that she needed to, because Josiah had already organized it. The twins had worked for him for two years, and they all knew one another inside and out.
Drea grunted at Nelson’s greeting and hopped off the stool to go and put down all the chairs. She started from the left side, closer to the doors while Nelson went to the right side.
The duo had done this dance around each other for over a year now. Josiah knew Drea had gone through something traumatic in the past, but he’d started to wonder if she’d ever feel safe enough to give in to Nelson’s careful and gentle advances.
Josiah glanced at Yolanda who surveyed the scene much like him. She glanced at him and gave him a wry little smile. Yeah, it was what it was.
Josiah’s cell phone beeped in his pocket.
“That Denny?” Yolanda asked.
“Yeah,” Josiah said absently, reading the text from his best friend of fourteen years. “He can’t make it tonight.”
Yolanda made a sound that had Josiah looking up at her. “What?”
“I think it’s Kristin.” She piled some bar towels onto the little shelf just under her spot and glanced at him. “I think….”
The way Yolanda trailed off felt strange somehow. “What?” he repeated.
“Well we all know he’s this record label guy who doesn’t need to come here for new talent or anything, right? That he comes here because he loves the place and you. He makes it almost every week and everyone knows that, right? So… he hasn’t been around in a couple of weeks.” She leaned her ample hip against the counter and leveled Josiah with a firm expression. “I think there’s trouble in paradise. That’s the only reason he wouldn’t make it outside work trips.”
Josiah frowned. He wanted to say she was wrong, that the best guy he’d ever known wasn’t headed to his third divorce in the last twelve years. He tapped out a message.
Everything okay?
He wandered to the stage to check that everything was ready while he waited for an answer. He’d checked it twice already, but he needed something to do.
She’s cheating on me. We’re trying to work it out.
