Wipe table.
Smile.
Smile.
Smile.
The steady thrum of conversation ebbs and flows throughout the evening until I know entirely too much about things like Candice’s niece's boyfriend’s peculiar-shaped rash. Luckily for us—and him—the town’s only doctor is as well-stocked as this bar. My mind drifts to this weekend—even though I work tonight and tomorrow, I have Sunday off for the first time in two weeks. Misty Meadows, Lynden’s resident free spirit hippie (and Eileen’s drug dealer), usually gets in a new batch of discarded romance novels from the public library in the next county over, so I’ll bum off the free Wi-Fi at her diner and see what new books she got. During a lull between happy hour and the dinner rush, Chloe helps me restock the bar.
“How’s Cora been?” She lights up with pride when I ask about her five-year-old daughter.
“She’s good Nyx, real good. You know she’s the best reader in her kindergarten class so far? All those nights of babysitting with you really made a difference. I can’t thank you enough, you know,” she says, knocking my elbow with hers.
I shrug, struggling to accept her praise. “She’s an amazing kid; I was glad to do it.” It’s the truth, too—I vividly recall nights snuggled on their squeaky couch, wearing dollar face masks and reading to each other while our nail polish dried. Given my reputation as one of the town’s more notorious outcasts, I actually look forward to spending time with Cora, even if she is thirteen years my junior. Maddie walks in and we both greet her when she joins us a few moments later.
“Are y’all still coming to Cora’s birthday party next weekend?” Chloe asks.
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Of course! Can’t believe she’s turning six already. What’s she into these days?” Maddie asks.
“Everything from unicorns to monster trucks,” Chloe says. It’s difficult listening to her describe all the ways she’s making her daughter’s birthday party magical, and on the eve of leaving my own childhood behind, I mourn it more keenly now than ever.
“Nyx?” Chloe asks, and I realize she’s been trying to get my attention.
“Sorry—what’s up?”
“Cora’s decided that she’s old enough for her first ear piercings, and asked me if you’re still up for it?” I grin at the memory of the last time Cora tried convincing me that surprising her mom with new piercings “wasn’t that big of a deal”. Between bouts of barely-contained laughter, I promised I’d do it if her mom agreed.
“Miss Pouty Pants hasn’t let that go, huh? God knows I’ve had enough practice,” I say, gesturing to the multitude of self-pierced studs and rings in my ears.
Maddie shivers and shakes her head. “I still don’t know how you manage to do it to yourself.”
when Maddie leaves to get changed before her shift starts, I ask Chloe, “You think she’ll want to get her ears pierced too? I doubt she’ll want to be upstaged by a six-year-old.”
“Better bring more, just in case,” she says, winking and following Maddie to change. After that, the night unfolds in the same familiar rhythm that I’m used to.
Pour.
One one-thousand.
Maureen guesses correctly at Wheel of Fortune and knocks back her free shot to scattered applause.
Pour.
Two one-thousand.
Carlos calls out my table’s order.
Pour.
Three one-thousand for Montrell because he re-wired the freezer this week.
Smile.
Smile.
Smile.
