‘I’m just out seeing the sights. I’m actually on my way back from the library. I guess I’m on the same schedule as the delivery guy.’ He waved to Tristan, who was typing something into his phone. ‘We just unloaded a bunch of books together. Coffee’s next on my list.’
He ducked to one side, letting Bobby past with the first of many milk crates.
‘Coffee, huh?’ Here was her chance to lure him inside. ‘I have an espresso machine in here, you know.’
Theo blinked. ‘Oh. But you’re not open ’til noon, right?’
‘I can make an exception.’
‘Coming through.’ Bobby squeezed through the gate again to grab another crate.
‘Need some help? It’ll be my resistance training for the day.’ Theo grabbed one of the crates and followed Bobby over to his truck. ‘Besides, I’ve always wanted to try GOMAD.’
Bonnie couldn’t believe it. First Theo had ditched her for Effie, and now forBobby? Everything was topsy-turvy. Had someone cast a bizarre spell on the town? Or maybe Mercury was doing its retrograde thing.
‘Look at you, all helpful,’ she said flirtatiously. ‘Well, when you work up a thirst, you know where to come.’
‘Thanks, Bon!’ said Bobby, with a grin that suggested he thought thathewas the subject of the invitation. ‘All right, Theo, put your back into it.’
Well, it was slightly unexpected, but Bonnie had the bar to herself. At least she could count on Bobby to talk her up to Theo.
Fortunately, her pre-opening tasks kept her busy right up until the time she switched over the sign on the door, and soon Theo had slipped from her mind altogether.
For you, Mom, she thought as she opened the doors, as she did every time. Because this bar thing wasn’t just for Bonnie. From the paintings on the stairwell walls to the brownies in the dessert case, this whole place was a tribute to Mom’s memory.
Back in high school, the careers adviser Mr Nolan had asked Bonnie what she wanted out of life, and she’d shrugged – how could anyone answer that? Meanwhile, Effie had been set on a librarian career since she’d admonished Bonnie, then aged three, for arranging her picture books by colour instead of alphabetical order. Effie had always been fascinated by imaginative worlds; how knowledge could be contained and organized; by how, she said, one building on a hill could be a haven to everyone.
When Mr Nolan pressed Bonnie about her own goals,Bonnie had stammered out something about being memorable. Because she didn’t know quite what she wanted, but she did know what shedidn’twant. To be invisible, to be forgotten. Now Bonnie had her own building on a hill (all right,neara hill), and she was determined to make it the place where the entire town wanted to spend their time. And also, given the wholly unexpected expense of running the place, their money.
A few groups of hotel workers and college kids came in, including Terrance from The Winged Monkey, still in his barista T-shirt, who shyly ran his fingers through his hair when he saw her.
‘How’s the talent show audition going?’ she asked.
‘I’m really good at memorizing the jokers. It’s the queens that get me all messed up.’
‘Queens will do that,’ said Bonnie with a grin. She poured him a glass of milk from the crate that Bobby had left her with, then slid it over to the barista, along with one of Mom’s brownies. ‘There. Calcium’s good for the brain.’
Probably.
‘Got it.’ Taking a sip of the milk, Terrance produced a pack of cards from his pocket and handed them to her. ‘Do you want to do the honours? You can be my good luck memory charm.’
‘Only because it’s quiet.’ Bonnie tipped out the cards and quickly laid them out.
‘First one’s a queen of hearts,’ he said approvingly.
‘Correct! Now you just have fifty-one to go. Let me know when you need a top-up.’
She left him to his milk, then poured a jug of beer for a trio of girls she recognized as psych majors from the college. This was something she always found amusing, as they’d sit around the patio firepit for hours, textbooks open, reading each other’s palms or wondering whether the lunar tide cycles were behind a professor’s tough grading rubric. Bonnie waspretty sure she’d had the same professor before she’d dropped out in sophomore year.
‘Here you go, babes,’ said Bonnie, dropping off the jug, together with a stack of chilled glasses. ‘How are the lifelines today?’
‘Ugh,awful,’ said a tiny, peppy blonde who reminded Bonnie of herself. She’d go far in life. The girl jabbed at her palm. ‘See this line here? There’s a callus on it. Disaster. There goes my future earning potential.’
‘Youhavebeen putting in a lot of time on the rower at the gym,’ said one of her friends, a brunette with morose eyes wearing a lilac pantsuit that Bonnie coveted.
‘Combined with the change in my Mount of Mars...’ The girl prodded at the fleshy pad of her thumb. ‘You see what I’m seeing, right?’
‘Sure,’ said Bonnie, because who was she to argue with her patrons? Just so long as they paid their bills and tipped generously, they could read whatever they wanted in their palms. Or their beer foam. Or their napkin folds.
