Coke and Whiskey

Hey all! I am super excited about this story! As you know, I work in a liquor store. Well, since the liquor store I work at isn't usually as busy as larger ones, I have a lot of down time. I was sitting at work when this little story came to mind!

Remember, all characters and situations are purely fictional and any resemblance to real life is purely accidental. Enjoy!

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Work Work Work

"Evening, Whiskey." my favorite coworker called out. I had been working with Tammie for just over a year now. Tink, as most people called her because of her cute pixie, honey-yellow haircut, is one of my favorite people in the world.

Tink, with her five foot nothing stature, pixie hair, and bubbly personality is the complete opposite of my five - three, stark black hair, and rather pessimistic self. We found each other five years ago when I applied for the job at our cozy little liquor store.

"Hiya, Tink. How was traffic today?" Tink worked the day shift at our small town liquor store and I worked the night shift. Tink had two kids under two at home so she liked spending time with them before bed. I, being alone and single, don't need to worry about children, family, or anything else people do in the evening.

"Pretty slow today. Someone came in looking for you though. He was pretty cute. Even called you by your government name, Stacy." Eh. Stacy. The last person to call me that was my boss on the day I interviewed for this job.

Stacy Smalls. How generic. When I started at the liquor store, people quickly learned about my love for all things whiskey. And since I am usually surrounded by people who are so drunk they cannot remember legit names, Whiskey caught on really quick.

I chuckled, "My type or your type?" I love Tink, but if she tries to set me up with another straight-laced, polo wearing, boat shoes punk again, I will punch her in the uterus.

The sigh that left her let me know he was her type, definitely not mine. I smiled, "Tink, remember your man at home? The one that gave you two beautiful babies? The one you married right out of high school because y'all's love for each other was so strong you couldn't possibly be apart?"

She looked my way and smiled, "How could I forget, Whiskey? He's my perfect." Gag. Gross. Ew.

"All right, enough of that. Get out of here, go see those babies of yours." I love Tink, I do, but her constant need to swoon over her life got a bit annoying.

"All right, bitch. I can take a hint. Text me if you need me. Love ya," she sent a wink and blew a kiss in my direction as she walked out the door.

Shaking my head, I went to work.

The Meeting

The best part of working at a small town liquor store at night is the amazing people you meet. Just tonight I've talked to a couple from Ireland, a man who served in WWII, and some people I went to grade school with. I love being able to catch up, learn from, and enjoy other people.

Tonight, however, I am just in a bad mood. I'm finding it difficult to keep up my "happy" exterior. One couple, who are regulars, asked me what was wrong. Another gentleman was a bit more direct said, "What's up your ass, Whiskey?"

So tonight was a bad night. I needed to pull myself out of it. I liked my job. I love the people. I enjoy the company.

Today was just a bad day.

I had just sat down after restocking fifty thirty packs in the fridge when I heard the bell above the door ding. Taking a deep breath, I plaster on my fake smile, ready to keep up conversation, "Hi, welcome to Paradise."

A deep chuckle fills my ears. A rich, deep voice fills my ears, "Paradise, huh? That's a bit presumptuous."

I look up into the most beautiful eyes I've seen. Deep, dark brown- the color of soda. Eyes that crinkled at the sides like they were no strangers to smiling. Eyes that looked at me, filling me with a sense of warmth that I did not understand. Eyes that were expecting an answer.

"Um...uh.... yeah." Smooth Whiskey, real smooth.

I did not know what was happening. My hands were shaking, there was a shortness of breath, and I could feel my cheeks blushing. What the hell?

Mystery Man, bless his heart, was keeping it together enough. He wasn't making fun of my inability to communicate. The crinkle at his eyes never left, the warm smile was still ever present. The only tell he found my answer amusing was the slight shake in his shoulders.

Just then the door opened and a regular walked in, "Whiskey!" the tough older fellow hollered as he walked through the door.

Mystery guy's eyebrows furrowed and the easy smile slipped from his face. After a quick glance at me, he squared his broad, muscular shoulders taking a step towards my regular, "Hey pal, that's not okay."

I looked at Mystery Man in confusion. "Hey Frank, how's the wife?" My regular looks at me and grumbles then looks at Mystery Man and frowns, "You good, Whiskey?"

Oh god. Now I have two people with a weird sense of protectiveness. What the hell is going on?

"Yeah, Frank. All's fluid." I turn back to Mystery Man, "Can I help you find anything?"

Mystery Man's frown deepens as he turns and walks out of the store.

The fuck?

Frank has brought his $7.10 worth of alcohol he always grabs to the counter and scoffs. "The fuck his problem?" Oh, Frank. What a man of few words.

"I don't know Frank. Not my problem, he left. I already forgot about him," I reply with a smile. But Mystery Man's beautiful face will haunt my dreams for a while, I just know it.

The Return

For the rest of the night, I think about Mystery Man. He was rather attractive, and the way he stood up for me, while it was completely unnecessary, was super hot.

While I didn’t recognize while he was here, he was the exact thing I was looking for. His clothing suggested he worked with his hands. With denim jeans, ratty old tee, and a ball cap, he was a dream - specifically my dream. If you looked hard enough, you could see the edge of a shoulder tattoo. I don’t know what it is about tattoos, but they are plus in my book.

I hear the bell chime about an hour before I get to close up and head home. There are only a couple of people in town that would come thing late and I rarely get people from out of town this late, so I whip around to great someone I know with my knockout smile. However, I wasn't prepared for a pair of beautiful brown eyes to be staring back at me.

"Hey, Whiskey is it?" Mystery Man's eyes crinkle, his full lips form a smirk, a dimple pops out.

Oh, sweet tiny baby Jesus.

"Um hi, yeah. No. Um, that's what people 'round here call me." Smooth, Whiskey, real smooth.

While I sit there, internally degrading myself for acting like a bumbling idiot, Mystery Man tilts his head as if he is trying to understand something. Picture a German Shepard tilting its head, exact same effect.

“So, are you going to tell me your name? Or am I going to have to call you Whiskey?” His eyes are bright with hope.

Oh shit. “Stacy. My name is Stacy.” Holy hell…..o. I need to pull my shit together. Hold it together, Whiskey.

His eyes soften with something, I’m not sure what. “Well, hello Stacy. Its nice to meet you.” He sticks his hand out, ready to shake hands.

My hands go his to hand, then his eyes, back to his hands. Like I don’t know what to do. I’m frozen.

His soft chuckle brings me out of my stupor. Sticking my hand out, I shake his hand.

What happens next surprised us both.

A ZING of warmth traveled from where our hands were connected. Sucking in a breath, I look up in awe only to see he was making the same face. Surprise was written all over his face.

He shakes his head a little, like he was clearing his head, “I’m Jake, Jake Coke.” The smile on his face knocks me on my ass.

I smile. Coke, that’s funny. Coke and Whiskey. We could be a real life sitcom.

I’m staring into his eyes, smiling like a goon when the bell chimes above the door. Looking over, the joy is sucked from my body.

No.

It couldn’t be.

He was locked away.

I was to be contacted if he got out.

This can’t be happening.

The Incident

My new friend feels the shift in my mood. His grip on my hand, which I was still holding on for dear life, tightens. He takes in the newest arrival.

Mason, my ex, was dressed to the nines. His suit pants, fancy shoes, and button up don’t fit in and I’m sure they cost more than my next paycheck is worth.

How the hell did he get out?

The two men in the store could not have been more different. The terms blue collar and white collar come to mind.

Mason, being the asshole that he is, practically shouts, “Why the hell are you touching my fiancé?”

Jake, who I just met today, played it cool. “Fiancé? Sorry bro, didn’t see a ring.”

Oh shit.

Mason’s eyes bounced to my left hand and he lost it.

The events that happened next are still a blur. What I remember comes from watching the surveillance back.

Mason charged at me with rage in his eyes. “Cheating whore!” He shouts in my direction.

A fear so intense overtakes me. I’m stuck right where I am. I have only one thought,

I will die today.

With the speed of a ninja, Jake jumps over the counter and steps in front of me. Taking the initial force of Mason’s fist (which were intended for my own face), Jake’s head snaps to the right.

I scream. Not this nightmare again.

Jake, ever so calmly, reaches back and pushes me further from Mason. He also manages to push the SOS button under the counter. Then, in a way that impressed even the law enforcement that later arrived, Jake managed to disarm Mason and throw him to the ground.

Holy shit, where did the gun come from?

Why was this my life, again?

The Recovery

Within minutes the sheriff arrives to see what all the commotion was about. As soon as Ol’ Sheriff Smalls sees Mason on the floor, he loses his shit.

“The hell. Whiskey, when did he get out?” He scans the large room, spying Jake, “Who the hell are you?”

In only three steps, Sheriff Smalls has me wrapped in his arms and away from Jake.

I miss Jake’s warmth immediately. But being in Sheriff Smalls’s arms, breathing in his familiar scent? It sends me into a downward spiral. I break down.

I hear mumbling as Sheriff Smalls runs his hands down my hair and over my back. The feeling is familiar and safe. Sometimes its nice having your grandfather as the sheriff of the town you work in.

I should probably stop to explain my small town’s politics. My family, while small, is might. My great grandfather and great grandmother built the house here when they found the town years ago. From then, my family has taken a huge part in the town.

For example, my grandpa is the sheriff, my mom is the superintendent of the school, my father runs the only restaurant in town, and my brother is Fire Chief. I’m surrounded by my family.

So when grandpa wraps his arms around me, I lose it. I can’t help it.

While Grandpa is talking to Jake about what the hell happened, I bury my head further into my grandfather. I can’t believe Mason is in my life again.

Years ago, Mason and I were the “it” couple in high school. We were homecoming king and queen; we were head cheerleader and quarterback of the football team. Any and every clique high school couple you can think of? Yeah, Mason and I were it.

Then as we were in college, Mason started to change. He drank and became mean. The small town boy I fell in love with in high school was gone, and a new mean, aggressive man was taking his place.

He didn’t start hitting me until a year into college. I was late coming home from my waitress job and he accused me of cheating on him. He had accused me before, but this time something was different. He had rage in his eyes.

That was the first time he hit me. I made excuses for him. He was drunk, he had a bad day, he didn’t really hit me, he had just slipped. I put makeup on my bruise and moved on.

However, the longer we were together the more aggressive he became. Hitting, name-calling, kicking – he threw all his rage and aggression at me.

One day, I was at a study group and it had run late. When I came home, Mason was sitting on the couch in our living room. He had proposed to me he night before. When I turned the light on, the only thing I saw was the gun.

When I turned up in the hospital later, it felt like the whole town showed up. I was ashamed of how he treated me. I was ashamed that I was too afraid to leave him. But my family, my community, had my back. I dropped out of college, moved back home, and got my job at the liquor store.

Mason had gone to jail on some charges; I’m not even sure what for. I got a restraining order on him. And that was that.

Five years. That’s how long I was able to rid myself of him. Five years.

Now this shit.

Happily Ever After

After what Jake and I are calling “The Incident”, Jake came in every night when I was working. He would sit there, an ever-present bodyguard.

After three months of that, he asked me out. He took me on a lovely evening of arena football, drinks, and a sweet good night kiss outside my apartment.

Mason went away, for a long time. With surveillance and someone besides me as witness, we had enough evidence on him to keep him away for a long time. Tink realized too late that the gentleman who came in asking for me that night was Mason. She blames herself for the attack. I keep reminding her she isn’t responsible for the actions of a crazy person.

After five months of dating, Jake and I moved in together. People around town thought it was cute. They called us “Coke and Whiskey”.

A year later, Jake and I were married. It was the wedding of the century. Everyone was invited. And we served Coke and Whiskey throughout the reception.

I will forever wonder how Jake knew to come back in that night. I will forever be grateful he did. One day changed my future. I will forever love Jake.

I should have realized it. I mean, what is Whiskey without her Coke?

2.2.2019 age 23

#shortstory #alcohol #ReeseLynn #crushes #Breakup #tattoo #date #liquorstore #CokeandWhiskey