Without considering why, I hit the brakes. He’d disappeared inside Eddie’s by the time I parked and locked the car, then jogged across the street, purse bumping my hip. I heard the jukebox before I even opened the door. Stepping inside the familiar space I was greeted by the swiveling of every head on every man occupying the stools along the bar counter. Even the guys playing pool were momentarily distracted by the unexpected appearance of a woman. I knew all of them, most well, and yet I was essentially a stranger to them in this life. I reminded myself to keep this in mind when speaking.
“Well if it isn’t the new schoolteacher!” Eddie enthused, coming around the bar to offer a hug. “Everyone, this is Jackie and Joelle’s girl, Camille Gordon.”
Heartfelt greetings were offered all around. I smiled as sincerely as I could manage, unable to keep my eyes from Uncle Justin. From the back he appeared just as I recalled – tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, his black hair longish and messy, as if he’d run grease-covered fingers through it during the work day. When he turned from the bar to say hello, however, I exhaled in a rush. I’d never seen his face without the intense scarring to which we had all grown accustomed. In this life his skin was unmarred but for some heavy five o’clock shadow; his right eye was a perfect match of the left, not drawn downward at the outer corner.
And yet – he looked so wrong. He was Uncle Justin without Aunt Jilly and the toll was apparent in the depths of his charcoal-dark irises, if only to me. I thought of how Aunt Jilly had long sensed their connection and wondered if somehow Justin had also been given a glimpse of what the universe had truly intended for him, the happiness and contentment of life with his true love.
Images from all the years I had known this man in his capacity as my aunt’s devoted husband and the kind, demonstrative father of my cousins pelted me with new agonies. How many conversations Mathias and I had shared with him and Jilly; how many lazy summer days spent on the lake, lounging on the pontoon or taking turns waterskiing behind Uncle Justin’s newest fixer-upper speedboat. Family meals and annual holidays, watching each other’s children for date nights, playing cards and taking camping trips; how empty and pointless life must seem to Justin now, in the absence of the family he was supposed to have.
Even if he could not exactly articulate the realization – and who could blame him – a part of him had to sense the loss of Aunt Jilly and their children; his eyes suggested this, in mute volumes. I recalled that his ex-wife, Aubrey, was shallow and petty, a woman who’d cheated on him before taking her leave from Landon many years ago.
But not, it seemed, this time around.
I claimed the stool alongside Justin’s, which he acknowledged with a small nod.
“Whatever you’d like, on the house.” Eddie stood behind the bar, winking as he gestured toward the array of drink options.
I shrugged from my coat, standing briefly to settle it beneath me on the stool. “Thank you. I’ll have –” I stopped short of adding ‘the usual.’ Of course Eddie had no idea that the usual was a pitcher of tap beer split with Mathias. I didn’t think I could bear the taste of something that reminded me of Mathias and so I said, “I’ll have a red wine, thanks.”
“Here you go, doll,” Eddie said, after first digging around behind the bar, locating and then subsequently dusting off a wine glass. He filled it to an inch below the brim, with a flourish.
In the time it took for Eddie to pour my wine, Justin had already polished off two whiskeys. I wondered just what I hoped to accomplish by engaging him in conversation; part of me was simply avoiding returning to Shore Leave, where I’d be confronted with questions to which I had no answer. Mom remained in a state resembling shellshock, unable to process what Tish and I had revealed on Sunday night. Maybe it had been a mistake to tell them everything, but we never kept secrets. Tish and I could never have continued to submerge the level of stress we’d experienced since last weekend. Who were we kidding?
I drained half the wine without thinking.
“You’re a teacher?” Justin asked, leaning on his elbows, glancing my way before returning his attention to his booze. Seated to his right I nodded, trying my best not to stare in amazement at his unmarked face. The conversations I’d interrupted resumed all along the bar counter; Jim Olson was applying chalk to his cue while Skid Erickson leaned on his beside the pool table, joking as he waited to take his next shot. Skid was one of Mathias’s best friends; we’d spent so many evenings with Skid and his girlfriend in the past decade and right now Skid would not have known my name if not for Eddie’s introduction.
I finished my drink in one more swallow.
“How’s your dad these days? I haven’t seen Jackie in ages,” Justin continued, attempting to make polite small talk when I could tell he really just wanted to get drunk. He nodded discreetly at Eddie, who ambled over to
