Instead, he kept driving, finally pulling in at the Tipsy Tavern. It was Saturday night so the bar was crowded. Music accosted him as he walked in. He wouldn’t be able to hear himself think, which was exactly what he wanted right now.
His thoughts were muddled and dark, just like the gathering clouds in the sky above. A summer storm was brewing.
He headed straight for the bar and sat down, nodding at Skip, the bar’s owner.
“Hey, Jack. How are you?” Skip asked.
“Good. I haven’t seen you working the bar here in a while.” Jack regretted his decision to sit at the bar now. He liked Skip, but he wasn’t in a social mood at the moment.
“Yeah, well. A couple of employees called in, and I’m not too good to pour drinks and shine glasses. What’ll you have?”
Jack stiffened. His gaze moved beyond Skip to the selection of drinks behind him. The regular bartender knew that Jack took a Coke on the rocks. Nonalcoholic. One of those bottles behind Skip would definitely take the edge off though. It would make all his feelings disappear. Temporary relief for what ailed him. “I, uh…I’m not sure,” Jack said.
Skip’s smile slid away. “How about what’s on tap?”
Jack knew his answer should be no. No, he didn’t want anything alcoholic. A simple Coke would do. The feeling alcohol provided was only temporary. It wouldn’t help anything. Jack was strong, and he’d been sober too long to fall off the wagon now.
He lifted his gaze to the wall of alcohol again and then looked at Skip. “Nah, man. I’ll just have a Coke with ice.”
“You sure?” Skip’s brow furrowed.
“I’m sure.” The woman Jack loved had just broken up with him. If he could resist drinking tonight, then he could stay sober for the rest of his life.
Jack watched Skip prepare him a soda and slide it in front of him. “Do you, uh, do that whole bartender thing where I spill my guts and you tell me how to fix my life?”
Skip laughed as if that was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. “That’s only what happens in the movies. But go ahead. I’ll do my best.”
Jack nodded, folding his arms on the counter in front of him, his fingers curled around his glass. “There’s this woman…”
“Every story starts with a woman,” Skip said, leaning against the counter.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with her this summer. I know I have.” Jack took a sip of his Coke, enjoying the zing on his tongue. “She broke up with me tonight because of some crazy fear she has. She thinks she’s doing me a favor, I guess. Saving me from a bunch of anguish if something were to happen to her.”
Skip reached for a glass and started polishing it. “I see.”
Jack slumped. He could see too. He understood Emma’s reasoning even if it didn’t make a lick of sense. “So what do I do?”
Skip looked thoughtful as he continued polishing. “She loves you. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be so hell-bent on sparing you. When you love someone, you don’t want to be the reason for their pain.”
Jack held out his hands. “I’m in pain right now, and she’s the reason.”
“Touché,” Skip said. “My advice: If you love her, you gotta fight for her.”
Jack shrugged. “How do I do that?”
Skip shook his head. “No idea. I’ve never heard a problem quite like yours. It’s one that an apology, chocolate, or jewelry won’t fix.”
Jack laughed dryly. His pocketful of Hershey’s Kisses wouldn’t make a dent in this problem. “No, neither of those things will fix this. The only thing that will fix this is changing her genetics.”
Skip frowned as he put one glass down and reached for another. “Are you talking about Emma?”
Jack looked up. “Yeah. But there’s a bartender confidentiality rule, right?”
“Your secrets are safe with me, buddy. And I guess hers are too.”
Jack sat up. “What’s that supposed to mean? Has she been sitting here talking to you?”
Skip lifted his gaze from the second glass he was polishing. “Why do you think that stool was empty when you walked in? She left right before you got here, buddy.”
“What did she say?” Jack asked.
“Bartender confidentiality, remember? She was pretty heartbroken too though.”
“Where she’d go? Do you know?” Jack asked.
“I guess she was going home. I hope so at least because I think the storm that’s coming is going to be a nasty one.”