Wednesdays

I tapped my finger tips along the top of the bar, playing an imaginary piano as Tony, the bartender, set a glass of wine down in front of me.

"Shouldn't be too long. Enjoy." He smiled politely and moved along to the customers a few seats down. This wine bar was usual stop on Wednesday nights. I picked something new off the menu to-go, and would enjoy a glass of red wine while I waited. It was a treat to myself. I was off on Thursdays so Wednesday nights were special.

I gazed at the shelves on the wall before me. They were glass with delicate lighting under them, displaying their top shelf liquor. For a wine bar, they did have an impressive whiskey collection. I read their labels from afar, appreciating the lengths that companies go to make their bottles stand out, yet still look refined, and distinguished. Taking my first sip of my wine, i took a moment to close my eyes and enjoy the tannins that washed over my tongue. They tasted like victory. Like I had won the day. I was a champion of the working class. Until Friday morning that is.

I allowed my gaze to work itself from the wall in front of me, to the end of the bar, to the entrance. You could see people walking by the downtown street, but nobody stopping at the big window to stare back at me. They were hurrying home for quick dinners and their warm beds. That was another reason Wednesday nights were special. They were mine.

The glass door off the the side opened. A man in a warm looking sweater walked in, pulling the beanie off of his bald head. He had glasses and a well trimmed beard, but there was something else. He reminded me of someone.

He started to scan the room, his stare eventually ending in my direction. I turned before he could catch me, sipping my wine again. I could make a decent spy.

The man started to walk towards me. I know this because the heels of his dress boots made a distinct sound. I made the quick decision to not look again. I'm not sure why I cared, but I'd chalk it up to simply not wanting to seem nosy. Can't a man walk into a bar without an audience?

He decided to place his flag a few seats down. Close enough to be in my peripheral vision. I was annoyed with myself for feeling so inclined to eavesdrop on this man's order, i mean, he looked like a whiskey guy. So I pulled out my phone and started scrolling on whatever social media popped up first. The kind of behavior that also annoyed me. It seems I can't win, so why not be social? Hush the desire to be nosy and simply make conversation like a normal human? But when Tony approached the man with a menu, and introduced himself, I realized why I was being like this. This man did not just remind me of someone. He was that someone. And how the hell did he end up in this bar of all places?

I had decided to play it cool. Continue to stare deeply into my phone, because at this point, someone was going to have to say hello, and I was still in shock.

"Gemma?"

He had this wonderful medium voice. It was deep, but tender. A sound you'd want a narrator to have. One that never got dull or monotone.

"Henry!" I acted surprised but my voice cracked and I'm not sure how convincing I was. I would make a terrible spy. I continued,

"What're you doing here? What brings you to Harrisburg?"

I asked the question that I wanted an answer to, hoping not to sound too shocked. Like I was asking why the hell are you here? Instead of a curious, what brought you to town, my dearest ex-boyfriend?

Henry smiled. He has a very genuine face. It's part of what made him a great bartender. He stood up, his menu in hand.

"I'm here to visit my aunt. She lives across the river so I figured I'd check out the city. I didn't think I'd run into you here."

I mean, we're four hours away from the town we met in. A town that's in a different state. I think that's a fair assumption, but we're also Facebook friends so he knows I live here. I opened my mouth to respond, but he beat me to it.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you. You look great! It's just a big place, and the middle of the week. The chances seemed slim."

I rolled my wrist in the air, as if waving the awkwardness away.

"No, no. It's funny you found this place. I love it here. I guess great minds think alike. How have you been?"

I felt cool. Like, the hurdle of breaking the ice was done. Now, you just talk. Easy enough.

"I've been alright. Traveling a little, taking advantage of the off-season."

His whiskey had arrived. Neat, of course. Somethings don't change.

"Ah. That is one thing I don't miss. There's always something going on in the city, a place to go. The weather doesn't stop anyone from going out and about. No tourists to worry about."

He nodded in agreement. I mean after all, he was a Pennsylvania native. He moved to our small beach town thinking it was small summer city, not knowing the ghost town it turned into when winter came along. Then it was one of the smallest towns on the East Coast. I was lucky to run into someone I wasn't related to. Being stuck in a town like that made it easy to hang out. Most days, we only had each other.

"You're telling me. I knew I wasn't in Delaware when the roads were clear the same day it snowed. I could actually see the road!"

That's true. Delaware doesn't get much snow, so when they do, it's all hell out there. Locals don't know how to drive in it, and the state doesn't get the roads clear enough for them to safely try. It's a mess.

"So, are you liking it here? It's been what, four years?"

His eyes were bright. I guess he actually was happy to see me.

"Uh, yeah I guess so. It's hard to believe it's been that long already. I've been working for a home improvement company. I schedule all of the installation appointments, which is an actually insane job." I laughed, thinking about how far that is from serving and bartending. We made quite the team back in the day. Now I'm on the phone with customers and contractors for most of my shift. The other half, I'm on the computer filling in excel sheets and appointment charts. I will say, the day flies by.

"Around here? I'm sure of it. There's no shortage of people and old houses. It looks like a nice place to live though."

He sipped his whiskey, smelling the nose of the glass. He was always better than me at pointing out different notes of the bouquet. Where a wine would smell berry and boozy to me, he'd pick out notes of leather and tobacco. By the end of us working together, I was getting there. But I had him to thank.

"It is. I like being able to see mountains, and have the city. I'm not digging the sales tax, but I live with it."

He laughed. It was something that took some adjusting to for him, when he moved all those years ago. People drive to Delaware just to take advantage of it. My sister still drives from Maryland to shop just over the state line at the Christiana Mall. Growing up without it, I still can't calculate it in my mind. I just know everything is going to be a little more than the price tag, and I've survived so far.

"How the tables do turn." He tilted his glass towards me, nodding.

"They sure do." I nodded and lifted my glass.

"Your order shouldn't be much longer, Gemma." Tony said, topping off my wine glass with the remainder of the Cabernet Sauvignon.

"I can see why you come here." Henry said.

"Yeah, I mean the service is great, the wine, food. Everything, really. I live right around the corner, so it's a no brainer." I said, sipping my wine.

"Downtown? Look at you. You're a real city girl now."

I rolled my eyes, grinning.

"I don't think of it like that. I got a great deal on an apartment, but I wouldn't call this the city-city. It's got the tall buildings, but it's not Philadelphia."

Henry shook his head and pursed his lips. Obviously disagreeing.

"Compared to home, it's a big change. I'm proud of you. Not a lot of people get out and experience life outside of Rehoboth. It's healthy."

I pictured what the town probably looked like right now. The sun going down. A few locals walking their dogs on the boardwalk in their coats. The avenue parking spots mostly empty. The parking meters covered with the blue plastic bags, a happy sight for all who know the pain of paying them.

"Has anything changed? I haven't been down since, well. It's been a while."

My voiced dropped a bit. My great-grandmother was my main reason for visiting as often as I did. She was a Rehoboth staple, but more importantly, she was my everything. The family matriarch. She was also the one to tell me to get the hell out of town. To experience life away from the only home I've ever known.

"I heard. I'm sorry she's gone." He looked down at his glass, then up at me. His hazel eyes were saddened, but kept a happy under-tone somehow.

"Thanks, I'm sad too. But I should really visit before the tourists return and take all the good parking. It's funny to have to worry about those things now."

I laughed, changing the subject. It's true. When I'm back home, I'll have out of state tags on my car, and a PA license. If you didn't know me, you'd think I was a regular ol' tourist. Here to add to traffic and ask where the ocean is.

A large paper bag was set to the side of me on the bar and Tony slid my tab next to it.

"When you're ready, if not, no rush!" He kept moving, clearly making a drink for one of the servers to take to a table.

I paused for a minute, pondering.

"I'd stay for another drink, but I've got to let my dog out. He's patient, but I don't like to push it. You're welcome to have a drink at my place. I could suggest a few places for you to visit while you're in town?"

I could see him thinking it over in his head. Then he took one last swig of his whiskey.

"Eh, why not? I'd love to."