The Barman

For this reason, two weeks later, on a Friday, September evening, I was sitting at the bar, slowly sipping a low-alcohol drink. Ever and again I glanced at Victor and watched him try to get the love of his life. This was his brilliant plan to go to the clubs and seek his happiness there. I did not want to accept it, but if he wanted to try it, I had to accompany him and hope that he would get bored with this method quickly. I just watched and made sure no one wanted to hurt him, and then, well, I walked him home because he overdid with alcohol.

A middle-aged man joined me, offering me a drink, I replied that I hadn't finished the last one yet, and looked up. I raised my eyebrows, surprised that his feelings were dominated by stress and guilt. He was thinking about someone important to him and about what he did a moment later, and he came up to me.

"Come home and talk honestly with your wife," I said, looking away at the young bartender who was interested in our conversation."

"How do you immediately assume I'm married? Do I look like this?" The man tried to joke about it.

"Out of the corner of my eye I saw you putting the wedding ring in your pocket," I replied with a shrug. I couldn't say I could read it in his current thoughts.

He motioned for the bartender to pass him the whiskey and sighed softly. I looked back at his mind, now drenched with sorrow and worry.

"Sometimes big problems do not require such radical solutions. Although, treason is not an option, to be honest. Sometimes really small steps are enough," I said, wanting to cheer him up.

"You sound like this was so simple," my temporary companion muttered. "And you probably have never been in such a situation yourself. Almost fifteen years of marriage, two teenage children ... I have the impression that there is nothing between my wife and me anymore."

"Do you love her?" I asked.

"Yes, but ... she is not trying at all to make anything happen in our lives. She will not dress up, not put on make-up ...," he began to calculate.

"And are you trying to do something?"

"I work every day, the whole day," he said, a bit nervous about the accusation on my part.

"Let me tell you one thing, the relationship does not matter at what stage it requires work on both sides. Come early from work to eat dinner with your family, take your wife on a date, buy her flowers, compliment her by surprise, and try to find time for yourself, but the most important thing is to talk to her because it is the key to every relationship. Let it all out, even if it's screaming, but eventually, you'll calm down, and knowing what's weighing heavily on each other's minds, you will sort it out." I freaked out, although I liked helping people, I didn't feel like doing it all the time. "And if your wife had been here and not you, I would have told her exactly the same."

"Or you can just divorce her and have a more interesting life full of adventures, and start the first one by my side. You have to take care of a handsome guy like you," a woman I hadn't noticed before interrupted us suddenly and was now hugging the man's shoulder.

Even though she was smiling, her thoughts about me were not pleasant. She considered me a sanctimonious and polite girl for whom there is no place here. She thought she was the only lady of the place and that only she should be given attention. I laughed silently because I didn't care. I wasn't going to disturb her hunting and eavesdropping on people.

"It's only your decision," I said to my interlocutor and turned to the bar to order another drink.

The man temporarily was tempted by the stranger's proposal and followed her to the part of the club with the dance floor. The young bartender was watching me, so I smiled at him, urging him to say something. I saw he was going, but he held back.

"I was just wondering if Snakey would come over to you."

"Lovely name and famous personality, should I understand?" I asked.

"Nickname," the bartender replied. "We laugh that she is the only uncrowned queen aka predator of this club."

I took another sip and looked around for Victor, who was texting on his phone and showing it to some young man. I had a feeling that my brother would not be very successful in this case. I sighed and looked at the sign with the bartender's name on it, which I couldn't quite read.

"Alexander," he said as he noticed what I was trying to do. "But I prefer to be calling Alex."

"Nice to meet you," I replied. "Lucretia."

"Forgive me to ask directly, but what are you doing here?

"I am a support of my brother who is looking for his soul mate," I said with a sad smile.

"In the club? This is probably not a very good place."

"His idea, I'm just watching over him." I shrugged. "He's going to come up with something else in any minute."

"Good luck to him then," Alex said. "I was surprised by your approach to this guy, so I asked. Rather, I meet people here with a Snakey's approach to life."

He apologized for a moment because another customer called him. I looked at him for a moment as he skillfully performed tricks to the delight of a group of girls celebrating one of their birthdays. Evidently, he has been working here for a long time. His uniform concealed a slim figure, almost emaciated. The dark circles under the eyes indicated overwork and exhaustion. He was very average in appearance, but in my opinion, it added something to his charm and made you feel calmer in his presence. His hazel eyes quickly searched for the necessary ingredients for the drinks ordered by the birthday group. He combed his short dark brown hair with his hand and started walking back towards me.

I didn't notice that Victor appeared at the bar in the meantime, leaning his head against the bar and gesturing for another shot. I asked Alex to pour him water instead of alcohol or give him nothing.

"Brother's enough," I said with a sigh.

Victor was looking at me with a sad look that only spoke of another rejection of the day. He asked me why nobody wanted him. Why doesn't anyone even want to give him a chance to get to know him, just to talk to him without mocking him behind his back? There was no sign of the bun he had tied his hair into before we left because he was dancing too vigorously. I hugged him lightly, comforting him and asking if he wanted to go home. He looked up and nodded. He just looked at Alex and smiled sadly. The bartender replied the same. I had the impression that I saw a flash in his eye, I looked up and was slightly happy.

"Hope to see you again, Alex," I said, and paid for my and Victor's drinks. The expression on the bartender's face changed for a moment, but then he put on the mask of an exemplary smiling employee.

We returned home, Victor went to sleep and something was bothering me. The alcohol helped me fall asleep, so I could still worry the next morning while sipping my coffee in the kitchen and wondering what to bake. A few minutes later I started preparing the necessary ingredients for the apple pie. Victor liked it, and I expected him to need something to comfort him.

I was thinking all the time about Alex and how he reacted to Victor. He clearly liked my brother. When I mentioned that we might meet again someday, his expression fell, and panic crept into his mind. Alex did not want a relationship at this point, he had to focus on his studies and work to meet his parents' requirements, and when he eventually becomes a genetic engineer, they may find it easier to bear the fact that their son will never give them grandchildren. The reunion, then, was a small but nonetheless risky that anything would be born in his heart.

Victor's type was the opposite of a bartender, but I knew his brother was relatively open to people. It might work, but I was wondering if I had the right to mess around and try to match them up because I think it would be best for them.

I suddenly cursed because I couldn't separate the yolk from the egg white because I was focusing too much on my inner dilemmas instead of focusing on what I was just doing. I sighed heavily and turned at the sound of the door opening. Victor tried to crawl into the bathroom, making zombie-like sounds. He didn't even glance at me. So I prepared water and painkillers for him, wondering if he would come back to bed later or try to get over the day with a hangover. I kneaded the dough and put it in the fridge. In the meantime, I took care of the filling to let it cool down a bit.

Victor reached the table extremely loudly and took a pill. He rested his head on it and gasped every now and then, trying to get attention. Most of the things for the dough had already been made, so I cook scrambled eggs for breakfast, Victor accepted it gratefully but ate without much appetite or conviction.

"Is it the hangover or something else?" I asked and looked up, anticipating his reaction.

"Just yesterday," he replied.

"How many times has your heart been broken?"

He showed an open hand. I frowned, I guess he really wanted to find someone if he made so many attempts in one evening. I knew it wouldn't do any good.

"How about some dating apps? Maybe it will be easier for you there? Many people also meet there?"

"I will not take the easy way. My handicap will not stop me from leading a normal social life," he said indignantly.

"I asked you not to talk about it like that," I muttered.

"Don't start again. Tell me, what have you made so friendly with that bartender?” He changed the subject. "Did you like him? You don't want our brother anymore?"

"And you want a cake later?" I said, nervous at his mocking. "Some guy tried to pick me up and cheat on my wife at the same time. I made it clear to him that I did not want to hang out with him, there was another interest. We just exchanged comments about the situation."

"Bad," he said. "Did you find out, at least what's his name?"

"Alex," I replied. "He's very nice, but I'm not romantically interested in him, much less he in me."

Victor paused for a moment and thanked me for breakfast. Then he disappeared to his place for a while. Two hours later, he emerged from the room with the smell of cake. I wouldn't let him move it, and instead suggested a bike ride in a nearby park. I didn't like it, but Victor loved it, and I was surprised he didn't think of it himself. We got ready quickly and went down to the basement to get our bikes. The park we went to was on a small hill, there was a playground and a small square with an open gym. There were also a lot of benches, but also a huge number of couples. I was expecting a rash of them in the spring, not in the early fall. When we were driving, we couldn't talk, but when I looked at my brother, I saw sadness in him, intertwined with jealousy. He sped up to get up the hill, I couldn't catch up with him for a moment. And when I finally did, I saw him sitting on a bench stealthily wiping away his tears. I got off the bike and sat next to him.

"Am I asking for so much, Lulu?" He asked.

"No," I replied and looked in the direction he had been staring at for a long moment.

He watched the happy couple, completely occupied with each other. After a while, I felt the same as he had felt before, this sadness mixed with jealousy. The selfishness begins to dominate in you. Thoughts that you deserve it too, that you want this for yourself. And finally an attempt to come to terms with your fate and a little hope. Hope that imagination may replace a real person and will be enough for your painful heart. I pictured myself next to Hyacinth hugging me and giving me a kiss on the cheek every now and then. Victor did the same, only he imagined his other half to be his perfect type.

"I still remember my promise," I said, trying to find the strength to smile. "Now let's go eat the pie."