“Sometimes,if I haven't written for a while, all of that pent-up creativity in my headdrives me crazy and I get really cranky.”
Helifted a corner of his mouth and replied, “Well, whenever you need to let itout, there's always a spot at my bar for you.”
Iopened my mouth to reply, just as the waiter came around to collect our order.When he asked what we wanted to drink, I expressed how badly I'd love a beer,but ordered a Sprite instead. Goose smiled at the waiter and told him he'd alsolike a soda.
“Don’tnot drink on my behalf,” I toldhim, as soon asthewaiter walked away. “I might be knocked up, but you’re not.”
Heshook his head. “No, it's okay. I ...” His eyes dropped to the table and hishand scratched at his temple, before he looked back at me and said, “I'mkindaan alcoholic.” Then, with another quick shake of hishead, he added, “Well, Iwas. I haven’t had a drink in a really longtime, but … still.”
Myjaw dropped at his confession. “Oh, shit,” I blurted, then shook my head,quickly collecting my words for a more appropriate sentiment. “I had no idea,I'm sorry.”
Oneof his pointer fingers tapped the wooden table as he replied, “Don't be. It'sjust one of those things I'm hiding.”
“But… you own a bar,” I mentioned, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
Hechuckled softly. “Yeah, I know.”
“You'rean anomaly.”
“Iguess I can’t keep you in the dark on this, huh.”
Ilaughed incredulously. “Well, I mean, youkindadropped a bomb on me here.”
Sighing,he shifted in his seat. “Okay, so, after 9/11, I was really mad at, you know,everything, and I felt like I just needed to do something. I didn't have awhole lot going for me at the time, so I enlisted in the Army. I saw some shit,came home, and started drinking.”
Hewas rushing his words and clearly offering the abridged version of his story.My lungs tightened, as I held in thewordsI wasdesperate to say and the questions I wanted so badly to ask. But I’d alwaysknown he was right when he said we're all hiding something, so I decided to bepatient, knowing his truth would be worth the wait when he was ready.
“Thatwas my thing,” he went on, his voice rough and quiet. “I was good at it. But itwasn't so good to me. So, when my ex got pregnant, she threatened to never letme see my kid if I didn't get my crap together. And asking me to do that waslike asking me to cut off my own arm, because I really needed that shit. Butwhen I thought about it, I found I needed my kid more, so off to rehab I went.”
“Andso, you bought a bar, to stay close to your own demon?” I guessed.
Helifted his eyes to mine and shrugged. “Like I said, it's all I was really goodat.”
“Well,”I sighed, “I, for one, would be lost without your drinks. And thosefreakin' wings, man! Oh, my God, they'reincredible.”
“Iknow it,” he nodded. “The sauce was my mom's recipe. She was from New Orleansand worked at a restaurant down there when she met my dad.”
Iwas convinced, as I propped my chin in the palm of my hand, that I could listento him talk about his life forever, without ever getting sick of the sound ofhis voice. And I knew I would do anything I could to keep the conversationmoving.
“Youwere born in Louisiana?”
Heshook his head. “Nah. My dad brought Mom up north a week after meeting her.They were married two monthslaterand my big brotherwas born seven months after that.” His chuckle rumbled from somewhere deepinside, and as usual, I laughed with him.
“Andthey lived happily ever after,” I concluded, and my soul plummeted when heshook his head.
“Momdied a while back.”
Mylips parted in a silent gasp. “I'm so sorry.”
Heoffered a melancholy smile and said, “Me, too.”
AsI thought about how life isn’t as wonderful as the love stories I wrote, thewaiter came with our glasses of Sprite and a promise that our food would be outin a few minutes. After he walked away, Goose raised his soda to me and tippedhis head.
“Tounexpected friendship.”
Aprominent ache ailed my heart at the declaration of being friends. I knew I hadliked him and knew there was an attraction, but I hadn't considered I'd ever bedisappointed at the notion that friends was all we could ever be. But he had agirlfriend, and I had Brendan, for whatever it was worth, and nothing more thanfriendship would be found between Goose and me.
Butit’s better than nothing at all, I thought, as I raised myglass to him.
