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“Sam, the usual, but two of ‘em.” Gary slumped onto his barstool and used his tie to polish out a smudge on his glasses.
“Right with you, Gar.” And into the phone, “Jeannie, I gotta go. Customer.” Sam hung up the phone and grabbed a glass from the rack.
“When are you ever going to give me an answer to my question, Sam? I’m on pins and needles waiting for you to decide.”
“I may not have given you an answer,” Sam pulled a lever and liquid amber slid along the side of the glass, swirling at its bottom. “But I never said I hadn’t decided what my answer would be.” Sam’s playful grin showed the small gap between her front teeth as Gary lifted the full pint glass for a sniff. “You said two? Want the second now?”
Gary took a deep draught from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, now. I’ll be ready for it by the time it’s poured.” True to his word, Gary’s second draught left only foam in the bottom of the glass. He picked up the second from the bar and took a sip, shifted a bit on his stool and settled in this time to nurse his pint.
“Everything alright, Gary?”
“Sam, you’re a swell gal for asking.” Gary gave her his most charming smile. “Thing is, I’ve got a very tough decision to make.” Gary took a sip and looked Sam in the eyes. “Susan popped the question last night. She asked me to marry her.”
“Oh, Gary,” Sam clapped her hands while hopping up and down. “That’s great, congratulations.”
“I told her I’d have to think about it. Sam, I’m still waiting for your answer.”
Sam laughed, picked up a bar mop began polishing the copper bar top. A few moments later, when she looked up to see if Gary was ready for another pint, he was still looking at her, one hand behind the bar and one hand on his beer. “Gary,” she said approaching him, “what’s wrong?”
“I’m serious, Sam. As serous now as I was a year ago when I first asked you. Will you marry me?”
Sam fought to hold back another guffaw. Gary seemed not to notice. “Gary, we’ve never even been out on a date. You can’t be serious.” She could see by the curl at the corner of his mouth that he was. “I don’t know what to say.” Sam chewed off a bit of her thumbnail. “No, I’m sorry, Gary, but no.”
Gary reached his large hand into his shirt pocket and after a brief struggle, brought out something small. He reached into the pocket again. Gary held out his loose fist over the bar. When he opened his hand, two gold rings fell onto the bar. They rolled in opposite circles, leaning steeply, spiraling and ringing as they rolled. Sam gently placed a hand on them and with twin clicks, they lay still on the copper. Sam was accustomed to having rings on her bar. Generally, however, they were the kind you could wipe up with a rag and that would never be missed. These two were metal, gold metal on her copper bar. One was a wide band, large in diameter. The other was narrower and seemed small enough almost to fit concentrically within the other. Sam hefted the rag, thinking maybe she could wipe these two rings away like all the others and that they’d never be missed.
Sam opened her mouth to tell Gary how flattered she was, and how surprised. To tell him that he was a sweet guy, and she was glad to have him in her bar for a beer or two everyday. How she’d go on a date with him, if he asked, and how she didn’t even know his last name or what he did for a living. That she hoped her husband, when she married, was as polite and caring as he had shown himself to be in the years he’d been coming to her bar. She opened her mouth, and her lips echoed the rings on the copper, but no sound came from them.
Gary opened his mouth to tell Sam how beautiful she was, how captivating. To tell her that she was a marvel of a hostess, and her talent for making people feel at home in her bar was the secret of its success. How he’d always wanted a home that would be welcoming to its guests, and how he longed to create such a home with her. That he hadn’t the courage to ever ask her on a date, but just that once, when he’d been too drunk to be afraid, he’d asked her to marry him and that when he threw up a moment later, it had not been from the drink, but from the fear his own question had stirred in his heart that she would say no. He opened his mouth, and his tongue hung limp behind his teeth like the bar mop that Sam had placed on the counter.
For two minutes or more, they both stood, looking into one another’s eyes, mouths open, almost unblinking, each hoping the other would speak.
There was a creak as the bar’s front door opened and another as it closed. Someone said, “I’d like a Killian’s, please.”
There was a moment’s silence and then the spell was broken. Gary lifted his beer and took a sip, stared at his hands, bit his lip and nodded twice. Neither of them had said a word about the question since that night a year ago, not until today, but the other bar regulars made a point to remind them both that the question was out there. Gary had never had the courage to tell Sam that he hoped she’d one day say yes. He had his answer now. She’d said no. Sam had never thought that the question had been anything other than a drunken mumbling. In their repeated teasing, the bar flies knew otherwise.
“Killian’s coming right up.” She took a glass, tipped a lever, filled it brimming with amber. As she walked the beer over to the newcomer, he reached a hand out to the rings that still lay on the bar. Sam covered them both with her hand, just before he’d have picked them up.
“Oh, I wasn’t going to take them. I was just puzzled by –“
“I know.” Sam placed the full pint on the bar. I didn’t think you would. Hey, enjoy.” She uncovered the rings and gazed at them, but briefly. Sam saw four rings on the bar. Two had been left by the beer glasses that Gary and the newcomer held. She felt some relief at being able to wipe those rings away with her rag. “Sir, I know you just got here, and I just poured you a pint, but just so you know, we’re going to be closing in about ten minutes.” Gary looked up.
“Ten minutes?” The newcomer put down his glass and knitted his brow. “It’s three in the afternoon.”
“I know. I’m really sorry. Personal business came up at the last minute. Too late to find someone else to mind the bar. Sorry.” Sam saw Gary wipe at his eye with the back of his thumb. She wondered if it was a tear he was wiping at.
“Hey, ‘sokay.” The newcomer chewed a few bar nuts and drained his beer in a few minutes. Sam walked to the till and pretended to review the register tape. Gary drank his beer. They mostly watched one another. “Thanks,” the newcomer said as he tossed a five onto the bar. “I’ll be here again. This is a very homey feeling bar.”
“Thanks,” Sam hardly managed to say as the door creaked open. The newcomer flipped the sign in the door. From the inside, it now read, “Open.”
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