Stay | afi

one.

He was here again, I noted when I clocked in for the shift I wasn't supposed to work. The man with the shadowed eyes and unruly hair sat at the end of the bar, scribbling into a notebook with his lips pursed as he spun an empty glass in place.

He wasn't from around here. I'd never seen him before three nights ago, but he'd been here every night since. We don't often have new people in our sleepy little town, and the hushed whispers and sidelong glances he'd gotten the first night made that painfully clear. He didn't seem to notice them, though, or much of anything else except for when his glass ran dry.

So far, he'd ordered 5 shots each night. At the end of the fifth shot, he left a large bill on the counter. More than enough to cover his tab and a generous tip for his server. What he didn't leave was his name, and the only things we'd heard him say so far were, "whiskey please" and "thank you". And yet, every night the crowd grew by just a few more people all whispering about the man at the bar.

I couldn't decide if his presence was a question I was desperate to have answered, or a problem I hoped would get solved but I didn't have too much time to think about it since the bar was busier than usual.

With the newfound patrons, we were understaffed and I was grateful for the overtime.By the time my break came (which wasn't until my shift was almost over), I practically rushed out of the bar and into the cool night air. My feet needed to rest and I needed to call home. It was past bedtime for my kids and I hated when I missed it.

I dropped to the curb, dialing my home phone and smiling before anyone answered. Talking to them was always the highlight of my nights, especially when I had to leave them with someone else to work.

"Mama!" The gleeful shriek jarred me and I pulled the phone away from my ear momentarily as a laugh bubbled up.

"Hi sweetheart. How's it going?"

"Auntie Kate is reading us a bed time story!" My cherub-cheeked daughter had two volumes- silent or shouting, but her excitement was contagious.

"Oh yeah? What's she reading?" I pictured them tucked up in the tent at the foot of her bed, reading Mercer Mayer or Eric Carle.

"It's called Game of Thrones!!" Audrey exclaimed, and I cringed, clapping a hand to my forehead.

"That's... oh goodness, can you put auntie Kate on the phone?" I managed to keep both the irritation and amusement from my voice as I heard the shuffling of the phone being passed to my sister, and then rustling and laughter.

"Heya roomie!" my sister chirped brightly into the phone.

"Hi. Why are you reading my kids a George RR Martin book?"

"Sully picked it!" She defended, but I could hear the smirk in her voice.

"Sully is 8 months old, you imbecile!" I pretended to be irritated but I knew she saw right through it.

She huffed, but agreed to stop. We'd just started talking about a trip to Target when I saw a familiar stranger sway out of the side door of the bar.

"I gotta go, Kate." I didn't wait for a reply and was on my feet before the call was disconnected.

"Hey" I called out to him, "wait!" I sprinted across the small lot and made it to him as he bent and emptied the contents of his stomach into the bushes.

I pulled a napkin from my apron and handed it to him without a word. He took it and then several breaths, also without a word.

When he finally met my eyes, I felt mine widen. Though bloodshot since he'd clearly exceeded his 5 shot limit and was blistering drunk, his eyes were the most beautiful color I'd ever seen. The dim cast of the  streetlights did nothing to diminish their vibrancy. If I was marking them on a drivers license, I would have called them hazel. They were like clovers dipped in honey, rich and warm and unexpected.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly.

He nodded, eyes still locked on mine in a staring contest I hadn't initiated but didn't intend to lose.

"You need a ride home? I get off in an hour and you really shouldn't be driving," I lost anyway, breaking the eye contact to check the time.

He nodded again, but still said nothing.

"You wanna wait out here? Or in there?" I inclined my head toward the bar.

He sat down on the curb.

"Okay then. I have an hour left. I'll be back then, alright?" Another nod, and I could feel my frustration growing. Did this silent stranger do anything but drink and nod?

"Do you have a name?" I asked and immediately regretted asking a yes or no question. If he nodded again I might just leave him in the parking lot all night.

His brow furrowed, perplexed somehow and suddenly I wondered if maybe he didn't speak English. He studied my face, a question lingering on his for several moments before he relaxed visibly and extended his hand to take mine. When I didn't take it, his relaxed features tugged up into a dimpled grin and I was even more perplexed.

Finally, he spoke. His voice was rough but melodic with a light accent that I couldn't place, "Ashton."