Chapter Three
815 Words
Chapter Three
When me and Kimmy got to the bar, It was already pretty packed. I could see Jason, my manager, was behind the bar helping out the other guys with serving, and the waitresses were rushed off their feet. I asked Kimmy to start her shift early, which she did, happily, and went in to the back to put my stuff away in my office.
I put the letter off my parents in to my desk and headed back out to help with the rush of customers.
There was still a lot of families in having lunch when the evening drinks came in. A lot of our regulars, it's always nice to know we have some loyal customers, and as usual, a heck of a lot of tourists.
The next couple of hours were absolutely crazy, but eventually, the mad rush died down and I was able to head back to the office for 10 minutes peace, grabbing a bottle of whiskey as I went past the bar.
Closing the office door, I sat down and poured myself a drink before I grabbed the letter out of my drawer and opened it up.
Inside the Christmas-red envelope was a single piece of crisp white paper with gold writing. I smiled, my mother used the same stationery for as long as I can remember. I missed my parents, but they just don't understand my views or my wants and needs.
I took a big swing of my whiskey before I read what the letter said;
Nicky,
I hope you had a wonderful Christmas my darling, but, You need to come home, Your father is very ill, The doctors say they don't know how long he has left. I know you don't want our life or your future, but you must return, If not to do the right thing, then to say your goodbyes.
I stopped reading after that, I couldn't believe it. There was some thing wrong with dad? He's sick? What was wrong with him? I scanned the rest of the letter, but there was no more explanation, just mum saying I needed to hurry and get home, that I needed to come quick... It worried me.
Sure, I know parents get sick all the time, but they have NEVER summoned me home before, Ever!
I was feeling so many emotions, Upset, anger... guilt... I put the letter down again and poured another drink... and then another. I wanted to finish the whole f*****g bottle, but, I couldn't. I had the bar to run, Drinking the profits wasn't a good idea.
Leaning back in my seat, I let out a built up sigh and closed my eyes. I tried to relax, but someone started knocking on my door.
'Yeah?' The door opened and there stood Kimmy, Smirking like a Cheshire cat. 'What's up?'
'Oh, Are you having drinks and didn't invite me?' I'd normally see the funny side of her comments, but not today.
'Well you are working Kimmy, So no, I'm not gonna invite you for drinks'. She seemed shocked by my comment and closed the door behind her.
'Is everything ok Nicky?' I had to turn away and face the wall. I didn't want to show weakness, I've never shown weakness. I'm not that kind of man.
'Can you please... Just get out Kim'. I tried to keep my voice low, cold, void of emotion, but she didn't listen, instead, she came over and knelt down in front of me. She put her hand on my knee in an attempt to comfort me.
'Talk to me. Maybe I can help'. I sat back and sniffed, unblocking my nose.
'You can't.' As soon as I said it, a single tear fell down my face.
'Oh, baby!'. Getting up, she sat down on my lap and pulled me to her, I buried my face in her neck and just let her hold me. I didn't cry, but I needed the comfort. 'Come on, Let's go back to yours, you shouldn't be here'.
I'd normally argue it, say that the bar needed us, that we were to busy to just leave, but she was right, I shouldn't be working. Not tonight. Not now. I kissed her cheek and she headed out of the office to let Jason know that we were going home.
I pulled my jacket on and tucket the letting back in to my pocket before I headed back out in to the bar and said good night to the rest of the staff.
I promised Jason I'd be in bright and early and that he could have the day off, Besides, I'd need to be in early to work on the shift rotas, I'd I was going to head home to the North Pole for a while, I'd need to make sure everything was sorted.
God, I hope dad will be ok!
- Writer
