by Natalie June Reilly

He was the bartender of the local neighborhood bar and grill. His name was Justin and with just one look at him you could see that he was the heart of the joint. The place was packed wall to wall with mostly corporate players toasting everything from football scores to stepping up the corporate ladder in style. From across the room I secretly watched Justin in the center of it all as he pumped spirits through the pulsating artery of Happy Hour. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He had warm chestnut hair combed back as if he had just stepped out of the shower and run his fingers through it. His shoulders were broad and his arms were… well let’s put it this way, they were holding my attention nice and snug. Because of the dim lit atmosphere I couldn’t tell you if his eyes were green or if they were blue, but they were more intoxicating than any drink he was pouring. My girlfriend Judy nudged me with her elbow.

“Go talk to him.” She said. I pretended not to hear her for the loud music and constant buzz of the room. I wasn’t really into the whole bar scene. I had always imagined myself meeting someone special in a much more romantic place; like in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store or as long as I’m dreaming…along the shores of Rome, whichever occurs first. She nudged me again. I hadn’t said a thing to her about him, but I guess my eyes gave me away.

They always do. Besides that a good friend always knows your secrets without even having to say a word. My heart raced as I stood to my feet. “I’ll ask for a glass of water.” I thought to myself. I turned to Judy and gave her a brave but coy smile. It took me a half a second before I found my feet. “Just take one step after another.” I said to myself. It sounded easy enough but here’s the thing… I’m a thirty-five year old single mother. What do I know of flirting anymore? Things have changed. Besides this guy must have been twenty-five if he was a day. There were plenty of other young, beautiful, girls in the room for him. The, just of the pages of Vogue magazine, cocktail waitresses alone stood a much better chance at this guy than I did. Deep breath. Think positive. Take another step.

I hate being single. When I got to the bar I squeezed in between two older gents and their dried up conversation that was getting drier by the drink. One of them smelled thick of cigars, the other robustly of rum. I acted as if I didn’t notice them looking me up and down, but I could feel their eyes pasted on the back of my blue jeans. Bellying up to the bar I wet my lips in an extreme yet futile attempt to wet my proverbial whistle. Justin was slinging drinks left and right and he was Nike deep in booze. I held my gaze while I ran lines in my head. I was actually practicing asking for a glass of water. Why was I so nervous?

Except for in junior high I don’t remember flirting being this intensely awkward. I tried not to appear doe eyed, but I couldn’t help but feel like that silly seventh grade wallflower standing on the sidelines of the school dance twirling my hair and watching the boy of my dreams from across the gymnasium only now the boy of my dreams was serving alcohol from behind a bar. Go figure. I mean I’m a thirty-five year old woman with two children, one ex-husband, a mortgage, a carpool, and responsibilities that would tame a shrew. I’m never this nervous in any other aspect of my life. I’ve never even been this nervous with my male OB/GYN, and I take my clothes off for him once every six months. What was it about this guy?

Maybe it wasn’t the guy. Maybe it was me that was crazy. And just than as I was brushing a long, dark strand of hair from my face, getting ready to run away like a dog with my tail between my legs, our eyes caught. He just so happened to be swinging around to give a patron a draft beer when his gorgeous eyes met mine. I looked up at those emerald green eyes and we both hesitated for half of a beat. He smiled. His dimples threw me off guard. He brushed back the muss of hair that charmingly fell over his eyes. It was official I was swimming drunk and I hadn’t even had one drink. “What can I get you love?” he asked. “My God, he must have been six foot three inches tall.” I thought to myself. “Um…. water, please.” I muttered. “I can take care of you.” He said with a wink. Man, he had no idea how he was taking care of me already. I didn’t know if I could handle him taking much more care of me. I had been single for just over four years and here I was getting my feet wet with an unknowing barkeep.

Imagine that. Up until now I had sheltered myself from the whole single scene. As he poured me a cold glass of ice water I could feel my inhibitions rising to the surface. “Are you having a good time tonight?” he asked. “I am. I’m just so glad its Friday.” I whispered shyly. “I know what you mean.” He said with a laugh. He than handed me my ice water, and with the slightest of touches our fingers brushed and it sent a chill through my entire body. “Enjoy.” He offered. “Oh you have no idea.” I said with a grin. I walked back to the table where my friend sat and waited for my return. I sat down and took hold of a cocktail napkin and began to scribble my thoughts. “Are you writing him a note?” she asked. “Even better.” I said as I jotted some more thoughts down. “What are you doing?” she asked. “This one’s a keeper.” I replied. “What do you mean?” she asked.

I smiled a writer’s secret as I wrote down of my experience. It was something more. It was kismet… something that would last much longer. I would go home with Justin on that night, but I would go home with him in my pocket. I would leave with a writer’s dream… inspiration. There will be times in our lives when we come across beautiful people, wonderful people… people who move us. We may keep them for a day, a year, or even an entire lifetime. But however long we keep them with us… we are forever changed because of them. There are so many fish in the sea that we couldn’t possibly keep them all. Some of them we must throw back. Justin moved me that night and he will probably never know how much. As a woman, he stirred something inside of me. I walked away feeling beautiful again and not so much like a tired mommy who had just been down ten miles of bad road. I am still a real woman with desires. As a writer, he lit a fire within the heart of my pen. He was my muse that night.

And I am better for having laid eyes on him. Some may think that I caved in to my fears of being single and refused to let myself give into my inhibitions over this guy, but I prefer to think of it as the romantic part me… the single most quixotic part of me that finds the beauty in every moment and captures the unspoken extraordinary with her ink whilst releasing what is true from within her heart and having the courage to determine the difference. Sometimes the greatest gift is what is left to our imaginations!

About the Author: Natalie June Reilly lives in Arizona. She is a single mother raising two little boys. She is a published author of the children’s book “My Stick Family; Helping Children Cope with Divorce“, a book she was inspired to write for her own children after her divorce. Her passion is writing, and her inspirations are her children and and how they fill her life with laughter and love. Her wish for all single mothers; “Be True to You”.

Other articles by Natalie:
Banking on the Beach House
Every Lobster Has Its Day

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