20 Questions

Chapter 25

To call this place a "hole in the wall" bar would be grossly understated. The air is heavy with cigarette smoke, but I'm surprised to see a decent amount of younger people here. When we pulled in, I had my mind made up that it would be filled with bikers, Billy Bobs, or middle-aged cover band groupies. There are large tables in the center of the room, covered with over-filled ash trays and empty beer bottles. There is a stage in the front with a group of embarrassingly drunk girls butchering Girls Just Want to Have Fun. One more drink and it'll turn into Girls Just Want to Hug the Porcelain Throne. Mascara smears under their eyes and their hair creates a perfect nest for postpartum bird moms. Hunter leans over and tells me, "You are the most beautiful woman here."

I'm not quite sure that's a compliment after taking a quick inventory.

I walk up to the bar to buy the first round of drinks. The woman behind the bar is in her mid-fifties and wears a name tag that should read "I've lived a rough life" instead of "Susan." Her voice reminds me of Marge Simpson's sister, the rasp that can only be achieved from a severe nicotine addiction. She's nice enough though and called me honey, baby, sweetie and darling within a matter of two minutes. I bring the bucket of beer back to the table and the guys thank me before digging in.

Kevin raises his beer, "Here's to another year of being with my bros during the holidays, forgetting shitty memories and making great ones. And lastly, here's to Jenna for making our boy Hunter so happy."

"I'll drink to that," Hunter and I say in unison. Oh God, did we just become that couple? Justin walks over and throws his arm around my shoulder.

"Jenna, we are really glad you came out with us tonight. Besides, I may need some female advice about how I can get the pretty little brunette over there to come home with me tonight."

I glance across the room and spot the petite little brunette he is referring to. She's adorable and, unfortunately for Justin, is staring up at another guy with heart-shaped googly eyes. "Well, I would say you may want to direct your efforts elsewhere because homegirl's going home with her boyfriend tonight," I tell him, pointing to the big guy leaning over to kiss her.

"Well shit," he scoffs, sizing up his competition. "That guy looks like a total nut sack anyway." I pat his shoulder and he pouts on the way back to his barstool.

"You're a crowd favorite," Hunter whispers in my ear as he looks around at his group of brothers.

"They're a great group of guys. I'm lucky to be included. And quit checking out my rack." He smiles at me and kisses my forehead, accepting that he's been caught.

The bar gets significantly louder, the patrons yelling and clapping as a young guy walks up to the stage. He looks to be in his mid-twenties with a scraggly beard and long raven hair falling around his face. His jeans are frayed and dirty at the bottom and his Van Halen T-shirt has a hole in the right sleeve. The guy next to me seems to be excited about the man walking on stage so I lean over and ask him what is going on.

"That's Jansen. His voice is incredible. He should be in Nashville making music for a living. He's that good," he exclaims with all the enthusiasm of a Taylor Swift fangirl.

"What did you say his name was?" I ask again because my night is quickly turning into one big mindfuck.

"Jansen. I don't know his last name."

Jansen. Of course, his name is Jansen. He looks like a homeless Jansen. What the hell is going on tonight? Every time I turn around, there is something reminding me of my Jansen. It feels like a sharp dagger has just penetrated my heart. Maybe I haven't come to terms with his death as well as I thought I had. Hunter leans over and wraps his arm around my waist. The gesture is comforting, but I can't shake the feeling that the universe is playing a trick on me. I fantasize about what it would be like if Jansen were here. He would love Hunter. They would be joking around and talking sports, beer and girls. Jansen would threaten Hunter that if he broke my heart, he would kill him. Then they would punch each other in the arm and sing some karaoke.