Alfie hopped onto the stool and Josiah smiled at him. “All right, so, anything you like or don’t like when it comes to drinks?”
Alfie leaned his cheek on his hand. “Hmm… well I don’t like anything super sweet, nor do I like strong alcohol taste.”
“Okay, so how about a blueberry mojito to start with?”
“Oh, that sounds lovely. Yes please!”
Something in Josiah caught Alfie’s enthusiasm, and he smiled as he went to make the mocktail next to Yolanda’s station.
“I’m glad someone’s making you smile, boss,” she said as she hip checked him gently.
“It’s not—”
“I know it’s not likethat, you don’t need to explain. Just… friends are a good thing. He seems nice and I talked with Elena this morning, and she said he was lovely.”
“He’s a nice guy for sure. I like that he can feel safe enough here to be himself.”
“Oh, Elena said someone tried to be a jerk last night?”
“Yeah, and we don’t tolerate an ounce of that here.” He stuck a straw into the glass with a bit too much force and winced.
“You’re a good guy, boss.” Yolanda went and delivered an Old Fashioned to someone at that end of the bar.
He’d made two of the drinks and carried them across to Alfie. “Here you go.”
They clinked their glasses together and took a sip.
“Oh, this is awesome! See, I’m not much of a drinker anyway, but I like the idea of having something other than water or sipping beer while people around me get tipsy.” Alfie seemed so very delighted, it lifted Josiah’s mood even more.
“I don’t drink anything but beer these days, either. I was going to slide down one slippery slope with it, but my then boyfriend and my b-best friend basically told me to stop so I did.” He hated how he stuttered at the mention of Denny, but at least Alfie didn’t seem to notice.
Alfie looked, interested. As if he’d been scoping out the situation and was very glad that Josiah wasn’t straight.
“Makes sense. Could be a tricky problem to have around all this alcohol,” he said, gesturing toward the wall of bottles behind the bar.
“Oh yeah.”
“You own the place?”
Josiah smiled and began to talk about his favorite place on earth, his bar. Every now and then, he’d serve his side of the bar and then go back to talking with Alfie.
Alfie worked as a transcriber for several archeologists who sent him their voice files from all over the world. “I do it whenever my brain cooperates. Can’t do it daily, but they know I’ll get to it as soon as I can. Of course some of them are easier to work with than others, but isn’t that every job?” he asked, grinning.
“Oh, trust me, I know all about that,” Josiah replied with Drea nodding vigorously next to him.
“There’s this one researcher who gets really mumbly when he… what’s that called….” He frowned, trying to find the words. “Sorry, I’m getting tired and it’s like half of my vocabulary vanishes.” He was quiet for a moment, then his head snapped up. “Dictate! That’s it, anyway, he gets mumbly when he dictates and some of the terminology is interesting to spell even when I hear it fine.”
Drea looked fascinated. “I can’t even imagine trying to parse something like that together.”
“I’m fast when I can listen to the files. I love music and audiobooks too, but sometimes my brain injury says no, and it kind of fucks up with everything I like most in the world, you know.”
“Computer says no,” Drea said in a weird tone, making a face, and Alfie started to laugh.
“I’m clearly missing something here,” Josiah grumped playfully.
“I’ll send you a link, boss,” she promised as she went on to do another sweep of empties.
“It’s from a British comedy show. It’s hilarious,” Alfie explained as he took a sip of his virgin strawberry martini.
