I’d always loved Sundays but I hadn’t had a really good one in a really long time.
That day Colt gave me a really good Sunday. Such a good Sunday, I could almost forgive him for what he did.
Frank’s was a crush as it always was on Sunday mornings after church. We waited for a big table and it was worth the wait to have a stack of Frank’s fluffy, blueberry, buttermilk pancakes smothered in whipped butter and warm syrup, a bottomless cup of his top-notch coffee and family all around being loud. I finagled a seat between Palmer and Tuesday so I could poke Tuesday in the side and make her giggle and grab Palmer’s head and give him kisses so he would look at his Dad and whine, “Dad! Auntie Feb keeps kissing me!”
Sometimes there were three conversations at once. Sometimes someone would capture everyone’s attention. Sometimes someone would tell a story and everyone would laugh. Sometimes someone would just say something funny and everyone would laugh.
We all felt the glow of the day, even Dee. So much Dee did the unbelievable and walked down with us to J&J’s to help us get ready to open. Dee hung with me as I went about my business and I was guessing this was because she was unsure of letting Morrie back into her heart. I wanted her to let Morrie back into her heart but I didn’t want to push so I let her trail me and showed her what I did. She surprised me by seeming interested, paying attention and asking questions so I went a little overboard and showed her other things as well. When we opened she sat beside Colt at his end of the bar, drinking diet, gabbing and laughing with Colt. The kids sat in the office, probably screwing everything up and I knew Morrie and I wouldn’t be able to find anything for days.
Later Meems called me to see what was up and I told her it was Sunday and everyone was hanging at J&J’s. In twenty minutes, Meems and Al strolled in, Meems had a chat with Dee and then she and Dee led Tuesday and Palmer outside so Meems’s Mom could take them and Meems’s brood to her house to watch some new DVD Al bought and later, for dinner, she’d be serving them her famous homemade corndogs. I called Jessie to tell her the gang was all there and Jessie and Jimbo drifted in not long after.
The clientele on a Sunday were almost always only regulars. Usually lonely souls who didn’t have anyone to spend their Sundays with but they didn’t want to be alone. They’d sit in their chairs or on their stools, eyes usually glued to the TV over the bar, always ready to have a chat with you if you gave them a hint you were at their table or stool to ask for more than their order. And on a Sunday you always had time to chat about more than their order.
Dad, Mom, Morrie and me spent some of our time talking with customers, Mom and Dad more than Morrie and me as they had catching up to do. But most of the time we’d find ourselves over at Colt, Dee, Jimbo, Jessie, Meems and Al having a gab or a laugh.
I didn’t think about Colt and my kiss. I decided to think about being with my family and friends and how good that felt without me holding onto shit and feeling mostly dead inside. How good it felt to laugh and feel it down straight in your belly. How good it felt to watch the face of someone you love get animated while they talked about something they thought was funny or something their kid did that was cute. How good it felt to be alive, unlike Angie, Pete and Butch who’d never have times like that again. How good it felt to realize this was precious and holding onto pain meant missing times like these even when they were right there for you, close enough to take hold.
Evening hit the bar and Al and Meems challenged Jimbo and Jessie to a round of pool. They’d been drinking steadily for hours and they were making more noise than we usually had on a Saturday night and it could get seriously noisy on a Saturday night.
I was watching them when I saw Morrie come around the back of Dee’s stool, lean in and kiss her neck. I also watched as a golden Sunday worked its magic and she tilted her head to give him better access instead of trying to move away. My eyes slid to Colt who’d caught it too and his eyes had come to mine. We shared a smile and his hit me somewhere private, somewhere that had always been mine, somewhere that I’d never let anyone into, not even him decades ago. His smile just stormed right through the gates I had locked there and settled in like it was going to stay awhile.
I looked away and thought it was high time for me to break my cardinal rule. I never drank on the job. If I was back of the bar, I was sober. Morrie didn’t adhere to this tradition though he never got sauced just would have a beer every once in awhile, usually when Colt or one of his other buddies dropped in. I made myself a rum and diet and brought it back to the end of the bar.
“You let Feb pick breakfast, my woman wants Reggie’s pizza for dinner,” Morrie announced to Colt before he slapped him on the back and said, “dude, get your ass off the stool, come with me to order.”
Reggie’s was around the corner. Reggie was Irish, had a shock of red hair and scratched his beer belly when he laughed which was a lot, mostly at his own jokes. Even Irish, he made the best pizza in the county, bar none. You went there to order and if you were close enough, like we were, he sent his son, Toby, to make the delivery.
Colt slid off his stool. I had my drink on the bar, my hand wrapped around it. Before Colt left, his eyes dropped to my hand, he reached out and grazed my knuckles with his fingertips. The touch was there and gone, I could have imagined it if I hadn’t felt it zap straight through my system.
I stood there staring at my drink curled in my hand and I heard the front door close.
“Feb,” Dee called and my head snapped up.