BAR TAB

“You disappeared,” she said.

“Not for long,” I said.

“But where’d you go?”

“Far from here.”

“Couldn’t leave the city for that long, could you?” She said as she crushed the mint and limes in a glass. Down the bar, a couple of business types waited for their Mojitos. They looked like the kind of guys who drank Mojitos on their lunch break.

I knew Lily since I first arrived in New York and lost a lot of time in this seat by the window of the café.

Lily poured out the two Mojitos for the men and washed her hands clean.

“So you drink the same? Dirty Martini?”

“The three o’clock special? Sure,” I said.

She poured the vodka into the metal shaker, added a pinch of vermouth, and doused the mixture with olive juice. She shook and poured it.

“More like the one o’clock special,” she said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” I said, raising my glass.

There were small noises from the brasserie, mostly from the lunch crowd. Couples lined the walls of the small French Cafe. The two-seaters had the women against the wall while their male dates stared back at them. They did this so the women would face the rest of the cafe. Men didn’t care for atmospheric sights. The women were the atmospheric sights. Women required a little more.

“Are you happy to be back?”

“Well, I love New York,” I said. “But like all great love affairs…”

“It gets in your blood, doesn’t it?”

More people surrounded the bar. Lily had to move fast to get all of their orders.

“So what’s new?” I asked.

“Too much,” she huffed.

“Too much good or too much bad?” I asked.

“Well, we rented a car to drive to California.”

“We?” I asked.

She greeted the two new customers at the door. Another couple waited in the doorway behind them.

“It’s getting busy,” she said.

Some fresh rain droplets fell onto the glass window. People outside scurried at the first sign of the rain. It wasn’t that bad outside. I couldn’t figure out what the commotion was all about. It was a warm kind of rain and the breeze was very pleasant.

Lily entertained the crowd around her bar.

“You like Marseilles?” the balding man sitting next to me asked Lily.

“Ah, Marseilles, yes of course. I’ve been. I don’t like it very much.”

“Oh,” he said, “too rough for you?”

She smiled. “No, I’m from Paris, please. There is a good fish market in Marseilles. Very good.”

She curled her hair behind her ears.

“So what are your plans?” I asked her.

“Plans? Like today?” She asked.

“Like the future,” I said.

“Oh, of course, that. We want to go to Nicaragua and start a tourist trap,” she said. “I’ll take pictures of tourists, he will give surf lessons. It’ll be a paradise.”

The rain was just letting up outside and the breeze was warm with a good smell.

“I’m getting married,” she said. “He proposed.”

“He did?”

“It was fast. But good.”

She poured drafts for the men next to me. She had a look of quiet relief.

Marriage, I thought to myself, it was a good thing. Everyone I knew were divorced. At least they tried. Marriage was like war—it starts for all the right reasons and ends in unwanted casualties.

“Another one?” she asked.

“I’ll take the tab.” I told her.

She hit the buttons on the register and tore off the receipt. She placed it right in front of me.

“Cash only,” she said, “that’s all we take.”

I nodded and pulled out two 20’s. She looked out the open doors.

“It’s not raining anymore,” she whispered.

I looked out through the open sills.

“No, Lily. It’s not — not anymore.”