Life in Between

1 ~ Unexpected

This is no big deal.

Checking myself in my rearview mirror, I flash a weak smile before. Flattening my brown wisps threatening to frizz, I close my eyes.

Melissa Miller, you are a 36-year-old woman who is fully capable of going on a date and you will have a good time.

It's been 14 years, what if–

Nope, not going there. Heading for the bar, I hold my bag close and lock my car several times. Opening the creaky door, I immediately decide this guy is not winning any brownie points for the location. It looks like I could get tetanus by sitting down.

Taking a seat at the bar with a perfect view of the door, I order a club soda. Just in case things go south and not in a good way.

A few minutes turn into thirty. Swirling my straw in my glass, I ignore the pitying look of the bartender as he cleans a glass with a towel I'm pretty sure was on the ground a second ago.

Online dating is a waste of time. No man I meet on some app will be worth it.

Counting the lonely patrons of the room, I force a smile at the young girl cozying up to a balding, plump man in a flannel. Not wanting to picture where her night is unfortunately going, I skip to the two construction workers playing pool and on their fourth pitcher of beer.

Finally, I land on the man hunched over at the other end of the bar with his head in his hands. A pint of beer sitting in front of him. He stares down at it, barely flinching until the bartender slaps the counter.

"Leave before I call someone."

Slowly, the man drags his gaze up. "Who the hell are you gonna call?"

It's not a challenge. It's a genuine, bitter question. Clearly the man expects the answer to be no one. Guessing by his unkempt black hair, 5 o'clock shadow and rumpled clothes with holes, he's probably right.

"Ricardo." I'm almost certain he flinches but the bartender flings the towel over his shoulder. "I owe too much to him to not, but I'm far too proud of you to just let you throw it away."

"How long's it been since the last time I sat on this stool, Adam?" The man asks, dropping his head back to his hands.

"A year and a few days, Johnny Boy."

"Don't call me that." He spits, gripping the mug. "The twins' birthday."

"Yeah." The guy says enthusiastically. "How old are they now, anyways?"

"Turned 13 two and a half weeks ago. I was in Japan; didn't get to see them."

Great. I've been stood up and I'm stuck listening to some recovering drunk whine about his custody issues. Someone get me some vodka and lime because this is painful.

"Only reason it's been so long is because Bean wouldn't let me come over 'till I stopped coming here." He drones on and I check my phone to see that my date is typing. Good, maybe I have the wrong venue. "Just like she didn't want me there today."

My phone buzzes and I read the text.

Something came up.

I need vodka. Now.

I don't spend my days surrounded by high schoolers and get a break just to spend it here. No, sir. This is my winter break and I deserve to get laid. Or at least drunk.

The sound of glass clattering in the back sends the bartender swearing. Running for the back, he hesitates. "You promise you won't drink that?"

The man simply gives a thumbs up and snort. Standing up, I grab my purse and head for the door when I watch him lift the beer to his lips and hesitate.