Another Friday night. Hannah sat slumped on a stool in a dive bar downtown spinning a bottle of Miller Lite around and around.
“You ever gonna drink that?” the beefy bartender asked.
She looked up at his shiny bald head and black goatee. He had scratches on his forehead and face, and she didn’t dare ask what they were from. She hoped they weren’t from a woman.
“Nah,” she finally said. She pushed it away and rested her head on her arms. Drinking was what caused part of the problem with Sasha. She didn’t want to play with that fire anymore. Sure, she could wallow in it, get trashed and try to forget her, but she knew it wouldn’t work. She’d just be trashed and hurt, and that was no fun. Facing reality was what she had to do, and boy, what a bitch it was.
Her girl had run off with somebody new. A poster model for dykes that Charlie was. How could she ever compete? What’s more, she couldn’t compete at all. She had to let Sasha go.
So what now? What the hell was she supposed to do?
“Listen, if you ain’t gonna drink or buy anything, you need to beat it. I got paying customers wanting your seat.”
She raised her head. “Yeah?” She slammed cash down on the counter for the beer. “That’s for your shitty beer. And this…” she slammed down a dollar bill, “is for the pleasure of your company.” She looked away and stood as he glared at her. He said something to her back, but she didn’t care to listen. She just headed for the door.
What was wrong with a world that didn’t let somebody sit and stew without getting hammered? She pushed out into the warm night and climbed into her truck. Tears nipped at her, but she refused to let them surface. What she needed was a plan. A way out of this pit. A pinpoint of light at the end of this damn tunnel.
Mickey had told her she needed to date. To meet someone new. Maybe that was what she had to do. She didn’t want to, but maybe it would help to get her going half speed again. She plucked her phone from her pocket and texted Mickey. Then she put her truck in drive and sped over to the nearby gay bar. She walked inside the small hole-in-the-wall without waiting for Mick, and she was bombarded with dance music. Lights and strobes flashed, and men and women were yelling over the music trying to hear each other.
Hannah crossed to the bar and eased on a stool. She ordered a Coke and felt relief when the bartender was friendly. He slid her her drink and touched her hand.
“Don’t get too wild on me now.”
She cracked a smile, and she could almost feel the crumbling of her stone-set face.
“That’s a girl,” he said. “You keep doing that and they’ll be on you like kids on candy.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m ready for all that.”
“Too late.” He winked and moved away as a woman moved in next to her.
“Hi. Care to dance?” She was short in stature and looked almost cherub like with pursed pretty lips and pink tinted cheeks. Her golden hair fell around her face like it was gently caressing her.
“I, uh, don’t dance.” Nothing terrified her more than getting out on a dance floor and moving her body in strange ways for all to see. She’d even had nightmares about it when she was younger.
“Why is that?” She smirked. “Is it me or the dancing you’re not fond of?”
Hannah struggled for words. “The dancing. Yes, the dancing.”
The woman full-on smiled. She shook her hand. “Good. I can work with that. I’m Pauline.”
“Hannah.”
“Hannah, huh? Never would’ve pegged you for a Hannah.”
“No?”
“No. You’re too sporty.” She rested her hand on Hannah’s thigh. Hannah covered it with her own.
“I think we’re going just a little too fast here.”
“We are?”
“For me, yes. I just walked in the door and I’m waiting for a friend.”
“What can I say? I go after what I want.” She leaned into her and inhaled her scent. “You smell really good.” She placed her lips gently on her skin, and Hannah jerked and stood.
“Okay. That’s a little too much there.” Her heart was careening, but it was out of panic rather than desire.
“I think you liked it.”
“No, I, uh, it’s too much. Too much too fast.”
Pauline was staring up at her like a lover lost in the throes of passion. Like she should be on the cover of a romance book.
“I have to go,” Hannah said.
“Wait, don’t you want my number?”
Hannah hurried across the dance floor toward the door. But as she approached the exit, she remembered Mickey. Thinking quickly, she sidestepped and found an empty table. It was strewn with drink glasses and napkins, but she didn’t care. It was out of the eye of Pauline and many other patrons, and she felt more secure. What had she been thinking in coming to a gay bar? Had she honestly thought she’d have more peace here?
And what was with Pauline? The woman was practically riding her leg. Was that how it was now? Women came on strong and expected one to just jump right in with them? If so, she had a lot to learn. A lot she didn’t want to learn.
“What am I doing here?”
She palmed her forehead and wished for a beer. She pushed away the temptation and focused on the part of the dance floor she could see. Two blondes were dancing, one with long hair like Sasha. It panged her heart, and she wondered what Sasha was doing at that very moment. She wondered if she might walk in the door. What would she do? Speak to her? Leave?
She didn’t know, and she pushed that thought too from her mind. Her leg jumped with nerves. She focused on the messy table and flagged down a cocktail waitress. The woman was friendly and offered to get her a drink while she cleaned the table. Hannah shook her head, too afraid to speak. She didn’t trust her voice.
When the table was clean, she rested her elbow on it and rested her chin in her hand. Just then, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jerked and prayed it was Mickey.
“Hey, handsome, buy me a drink?” Mickey rounded the table and sat with a shit-eating grin.
“Screw you,” Hannah said, breathing easy. “You have no idea what I’ve already been through.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
“Do tell.”
“I’d rather not.”
Mickey shifted in her seat and turned to check out the crowd. She turned back around and whistled.
“Quite a crowd here tonight. Anyone strike your fancy?” She ran her hands through her short spiked hair and flashed her eyes at her. She was wearing a tight fitting gray tee with jeans.
If butch was Hannah’s thing, she’d say she was attractive.
“Uh, no.”
“Come on, have you even looked?”
“Not really.” This time Hannah shifted. “I don’t think I’m ready. Someone already approached me, and she came on really strong. I mean really strong.”
Mickey leaned forward. “No kidding? Where? Is she hot?”
“That’s not the point. It scared the shit out of me.”
Mickey sat back. “I was afraid this might happen. I was afraid you might be gun-shy.”
“I’m not gun-shy. I’m just…old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned.”
“Yes.”
Mickey laughed. “I don’t know where the hell we’ll find you a girl who’s old-fashioned.”
Hannah blushed. “I’m not talking Little House on the Prairie here, Mick. I’m talking respect, personal space, easy smiles, and witty banter.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
Hannah looked away, defeated. She knew what she wanted, but she didn’t dare voice it. She wanted what she’d had with Sasha when things were good.
“Okay, okay.” Mickey held up her hands. “Say I found you a nice woman. Someone who was more your speed. Would you, what? Take her out?”
“Yes. A date would be nice.”
“A date.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Mick nodded. “I might can manage that.”
Hannah had somehow given her the green light to find her a woman. How had that happened? “Wait, I’m not saying that I’m ready for that.”
“Come on, Hannah. One date. You can do it. It would be so good for you.”
The cocktail waitress returned and Mick ordered a beer. As she walked away, Mick leaned in once again. “I’m going to take my beer and patrol the crowd for a bit. Promise you’ll stick around?”
“No, I’m gonna go. It’s late and I’m tired.”
“You’re just gonna take off? I just got here.”
“You’re going prowling and I have no interest.”
“I’m going prowling for you.”
“Even so. I can’t sit here on the edge of my seat while you do that. I just don’t think I’m ready. I think I’d throw up with nerves the second I saw her.”
“Oh, my God.” Mickey dropped her head into her hands. “Okay, fine, go. But promise me we’ll talk tomorrow. You’ve been isolating and it isn’t good for you.”
Hannah stood. “I don’t know. I’ll try, okay?” When Mick nodded, Hannah walked away and exited the bar. She headed for her car, relishing the silence and the darkness of the night. She looked up at the stars and once again thought of Sasha.