The Smell of Lilies

Chapter 1

In this moment of time, Kel sat idly on the cheap, red leather bar stool that had a leg shorter than the others. She shifted back and forth on it to the rhythm of the Bob Segar’s voice playing from the record player in the corner of the bar. She liked this song. It reminded her of when she was younger. Much, much younger. Back when she didn’t know what the lyrics meant.

Her big chocolate eyes glanced up to the Kit Kat clock above the shelf of various liquors and beers. She had been sitting here for almost three hours – a bar stuck in the early 20th century. Her beer had gone room temperature, and she didn’t care. She didn’t mind when her drinks went flat. In fact, she liked it a little better. So she took a big gulp and wiped the residue from her upper lip, then sighed seriously. In her heavy mind, she replayed the scenes of the past sixteen hours. She had been doing this for the amount of time she sat at that old town bar. But somehow the stale beer didn’t help it sting less.

Kel didn’t usually spend her Thursday evenings alone in a random bar. She had never been here before in her life. Actually, she was still quite new to the Chicago atmosphere anyway. It had only been a few days. Her steady boyfriend of four years, Craig, had moved here in pursuit of his up-and-coming photography career. He explained that this is what his life was calling him to do. Chicago had the secrets and treasures he sought to make clear with his art. He said that they could continue the relationship long distance, but Kel was willing to go with him. It wasn’t until late last night that she realized the real reason for his desire for departure. She had just gotten back to his meager apartment from a quick run to the dairy for some crackers, milk, and eggs. Craig didn’t hear her open the door in time and was caught red handed with the girl from room 4E, naked and wide eyed.

And here she is. Alone in a bar with no one and nothing but her self-pity. After the confrontation, she did not cry. She did not scream at Craig for being the douchebag he was. She gathered herself, slapped on a poker face, grabbed her purse and jacket then stalked out into the windy streets. She still didn’t cry. Kel had become extremely good at bottling up and repressing bad things from her mind. But now she sat alone, save for the old bar tender, and was confronted with what seemed like a hundred emotions at once.

How long before this guy kicks me out? She wondered, watching the bar tender wipe down counters. She didn’t want to leave. She had nowhere to go, no one for her. And she didn’t exactly feel like calling her sister back home. She just wanted to be.

Maybe if I buy another drink, I can squeak in another hour. But then she remembered, she only had about ten bucks on her and some change. No real credit card on hand. She was left with what she carried now. Better start searching for a park bench to spend the night.

The door opened in the front of the bar, sending in a rush of cold Chicago air. Kel tucked her head as deep as she could into her thin jacket, resisting the urge to glare at whoever opened it.

She heard the clunky noise of someone’s boots walk towards the bar. When she looked up she caught eyes with a man in a gray hoody and some faded jeans. He had the greenest eyes she had ever seen, but they were angry. She looked away and noticed that he sat down as far from her as possible. Nice guy, she thought.

“Hey, Brandon,” the bar tender said roughly. “One or two?”

“Hey, Larry,” the man said. His voice was low, gruff. “Make it two.”

“Sure, kid. Rough day?”

Kel didn’t hear a reply. Instead she watched the old bar tender give the man two beers.

Some moments passed and Kel glanced up sideways to the big man. And he was big. Not in an overweight way, either. He was just…big. And rough looking. His dark hair had faint hints of red in it, making his eyes a little more sinister. His face was structured, dusted with light freckles and angel-wing lips. He looked up.