“Vodka sodas, mainly,” he replied with a graceful shrug and a carefree smile that had never seen war.
“Never tried one of those,” Aberlour confessed.
“Not to state the obvious, but I doubt we have much in common.” Bart laughed buoyantly.
Bart might have a point.
“What’s with the cane?” Aberlour asked. It was definitely not a run-of-the-mill cane. Long and thin like most of the ones that Aberlour had seen before, but this one was fluorescent pink and covered in glitter.
“Eyes are fucked. Legally blind and everything,” Bart said with a shrug, his smile never dimming.
“Is glitter the standard issue?” Aberlour teased.
“I wish! Michael had to bedazzle this one by hand,” Bart said.
“Michael?”
“My fiancé.”
Fiancé. That took him by surprise. But why? Who the fuck knew, but that word hit him hard.
“Dedicated man,” Aberlour praised warmly, although he had yet to fully process the implications of what he’d just learned about Bart and Michael.
Bart chuckled and changed the subject.
“Balloons, right?”
“Yeah. Seven darts, eight balloons for a win.”
“So, it’s a hustle.”
“No,” Aberlour denied firmly.
“Has anyone popped eight balloons in seven darts?” Bart sounded skeptical.
“Sure.”
“Anyone but you, I mean,” he said with an exaggerated eyeroll that reminded Aberlour of Oliver.
“No,” he grudgingly conceded.
Bart smirked knowingly and leaned on his sparkly cane.
Aberlour watched him intently, strangely in awe of his courage to be so open and forthright.
“How’d you know?” Abe asked. Bart’s booth wasn’t traditional at all. The players had to complete the lyrics of a song to win anything. Aberlour mostly ignored it.
“About the balloons?” Bart asked, like it was a stupid question. “They might not pop eight, but I can still hear all the pops.”
“Sorry,” Abe said.
“Fuck you,” Bart replied with a warm chuckle that reminded him of Oli. “I just mean that’s how I knew about your booth.”
Aberlour just snorted, not knowing what to say.
“How’d you end up here?” Bart asked. He’d tipped his head back like he was looking up at the sky while still leaning on his cane.
“Needed a job after I retired.”
