Page 62 of Wrecked

We order a pizza and eat in between turns.

Suzanne is sharing stories of the women who come into the salon. “You think bartenders hear crazy stories, try being a hairstylist. People tell you their whole lives,” she says.

We learn the McKennas are buying a time-share in Aruba, Conner Blander is going to Purdue on a full scholarship, Verona Napoli is having an affair with someone she works with at the post office, and there’s a new Starbucks opening on Main.

Rory is telling jokes that are super corny and perfect for Suzanne’s taste. I’m happy they’re dating. Sue deserves a good guy in her life, someone who treats her like a princess and makes her smile. He seems genuinely happy to have her by his side. When he looks at her, you know everything he’s ever wanted is right in front of him.

Somewhere around the sixth frame, I get my first strike, and when I turn around for my congratulations, it’s to see that Suzanne and Rory are holding each other by the computer, foreheads brushed up together, and they’re smiling.

A wave of melancholy passes over me. They’re in the midst of new relationship bliss. Every piece of information learned about the other is exciting, and the anticipation of what’s next makes every date fun. Every brush of the hand, look of the eye, and shy smile shared leaves you with goose bumps. They’re in this awesome phase of their relationship, and here I am, playing third wheel.

When our tenth frame is over, I rise before the next game begins. “I’m gonna get out of here,” I say to Suzanne and Rory. “I’ll be at The Bucking Bronco if you wanna stop by after.”

Suzanne tilts her head. “You sure?”

I thumb toward the door. “Yeah. I just remembered I have to clean out the cooler.”

She gives me a wary eye but doesn’t say another word. With a hug, she bids me good-bye and goes back to her date.

It’s a weekday, so the streets are busy but not packed. Most people are home for dinner. The ice cream parlor is the busiest store on the street, followed by the candy shop that stays open late in the summer. The restaurants are lit up, but businesses like the dry cleaner and drug store are closed.

For as big as my appetite for life is, my thirst for conventional small-town living is grand. I can’t imagine living anywhere but Cedar Ridge. We have a gorgeous Main Street with cobblestone sidewalks and gas lanterns lining the road. Our ten thousand residents like to shop, which has brought some brand-name clothing stores to our strip. We have our own concert hall where Emma used to perform when she was a kid, a top-notch sports program that Luke played in, and a dance studio where I spent many days after school.

A couple passes by with their hands entwined. They nod and wish me a good evening, which I return. My parents hold hands like that. My grandparents did, too. I know I don’t show it, but deep down, I really hope to find someone who wants to hold my hand. Growing up in a family that truly cares for one another shows you that finding the right partner to share your life with brings you nothing but joy.

By the time I get to The Bucking Bronco, the place is pretty quiet. Anyone who came for an after-work drink has gone home. There isn’t a Reds game on or else we’d be packed. The TVs are showing the Pirates game, SportsCenter, and Fox News. I stop in the main office and go over expenses for the week. I do the payroll even though it’s not the day I usually do it. Paulie gave me full rein on the place two years ago when he made me manager. It’s how I know I’ll kick ass when running this business.

Part of me wonders why he’s selling to me. I know I’m the right person for the job. It’s just that, when someone owns a business for as long as he has, you’d think he’d want to hand the keys off to someone with more experience, perhaps someone who wasn’t planning on revamping the place and giving it a new name.

When he announced two years ago that he was gearing up to retire, I started campaigning. From a PowerPoint presentation that Luke helped me create to art renderings that Suzanne drew up, I had the perfect pitch for Paulie. I did all the financials myself, showing how much I could offer him up front and how I’d be able to pay him back monthly with interest for the remainder.

He hasn’t considered offers from anyone else that I know of. The bar has always been mine.

My prayer is that I won’t let everyone down. I know what I need to do to make this work, but there are so many external factors. Someone could get hurt and sue, or a new business could open down the road and take my customers with it. The kitchen staff could mess up my health code, a bartender could serve a minor, or a bouncer could let in the wrong kind of people.

I run my hands down my face and press my fingers into my neck. All the coulds are making this the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. But I also know it could be the most rewarding.

Something in the security monitor above my desk catches my attention. A tall, thin woman with dark hair and a callous attitude is standing at the bar. She also happens to be the person I’ve been looking for, for over the past few weeks.

I rush out of the back room and onto the bar floor.

“Victoria! Where the hell have you been?” My words are a mix of anger and valid concern—mostly anger though.

She puts a hand up and sways her head. “Wow, you’re mad about something.”

“Something?” I screech.

The few patrons in the bar look over at me. Ron takes a step behind her, aware of a possible altercation—meaning, my fist in her face.

“You totaled my car and left me there to take the blame.”

Her eyes roll from side to side. “What are you talking about?”

My limbs start to vibrate with nervous energy. “You got high on heroin, crashed my car into a guard rail, and ran. I was arrested. Cuffed and taken away. I can’t believe I was so concerned about you, and you don’t even care about what happened.”

Her shoulders relax, and her chin tilts like what I said is ludicrous. “You’re making a big deal about nothing.”

Is she out of her mind? I shake my head to keep myself from reeling.