walked up to the bar.
Her hair was piled in a messy bun at the top of her head, curls hanging down in tendrils with glittered barrettes scattered through it. She had on blue eyeshadow that matched the suede mini dress she wore .
“What brought you here to Amber?” I blurted, suddenly desperate to fill my head with someone else’s demons instead of my own.
If she was surprised at the question, she didn’t show it. She grinned, taking some bottles from the bar before pouring them into a cocktail shaker. “Ah, if you want to know the answer to that, we’re both gonna need a drink in our hands.”
“As much as I’d love to say yes, I’ve got to pick up the kids from school. Even one of your cocktails will make sure that doesn’t happen,” I said.
She giggled. “Don’t you worry, sugar. I’m doin’ half strength, and I’ll get Donny in the kitchen to whip us up some jalapeno poppers and nachos to soak it all up.” She winked, calling out to Donny.
Laura Maye made quick work of making the drinks. She was an expert after all. Though she owned the place, she spent a good amount of time behind the bar. People from three towns over knew about her cocktails. This place got packed on the weekends, so there were other bartenders who helped, but she worked hard and constantly. She’d created all of this herself, and even though she could’ve relaxed, letting the place rake in the money, that wasn’t her style. Not at all.
After taking care of the other customers, she sat down beside me, drinks in front of us.
“Now, you’re not the first person to ask me this question,” she said. “Not that our girls are pushy or nosy. They’re curious. Want to know that they’ve got shoulders to cry on if that needs to be done. Vaults to keep their secrets in.” She sipped her drink. “I’ve cried enough tears to know that I won’t need a shoulder for some time. My secrets don’t need to be in vaults exactly, just haven’t been ready to come out into the light. Guess I’ve been waiting for the right time, the right person.”
She reached over to squeeze my hand. “Glad I waited, ‘cause I get the feeling that this is the absolute right time for that.”
She sighed, looking out the window for a beat, a faraway look in her eyes. “I grew up in the South. To a Momma and Daddy who didn’t love each other. Barely even liked each other all that much. But they feared God enough to know that divorce was a sin, and they surely didn’t want to anger him by getting one. So they stayed together. Made each other angry and bitter. Even my Momma. She was a romantic. A former pageant queen. My God, she was beautiful. Always, absolutely always had her hair done. Makeup on. Heels, outfit, everything matching.”
She looked wistful, as if she were imagining her mother.
I was imagining her, too, thinking she might’ve looked like a different version of Laura Maye. Though that was hard to imagine. There was only one Laura Maye; she was one of a kind.
“We didn’t have the money for much, so she had to get creative,” she continued. “Would go to thrift shops. Altered things with her rusty old sewing machine, making them look good as new, original. She took so much pride in herself. But her and Daddy’s constant fighting, all the money problems, living in an environment she didn’t think she’d ever end up in... it chipped away at her. At her beauty. She started to drink to escape from all of it. The life she found herself in. Then she started to go to bars, looking for men who’d treat her like they wanted her. Daddy eventually found out, making things even worse. For all the fear he had about angering God with a divorce, he didn’t at all mind beating on his wife.”
She sipped her drink, and I did the same because the story was already breaking my heart, and I had a feeling she wasn’t even half done.
“My momma loved me. She wanted to give me a life that was different than hers. She told me the dangers of falling in love, taught me the value in looking beautiful. ‘No matter what kind of ugliness the world gives you, make sure you face it with your hair did and your lipstick on’, that’s what she used to say.”