The sound of the phone ringing was jarring, to say the least. Marie had sat on her couch to watch some daytime TV. Before she realized it, she was curled up on her side fast asleep, dreaming about Logan. Again.
She shook herself awake and grabbed for the phone before it stopped making its incessant noise.
“Yeah.” She knew she sounded rude, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Marie, can you come in an hour early tonight?” It was Mark. Big surprise there, her first phone call on her new phone and it was work calling her in early. Not that she thought anyone else would call her, but some days she dared to hope.
“Sure, everything ok?” she asked.
“We’ll talk when you get here. See ya soon.” And with that cryptic message, he hung up. The dial tone buzzed in her ear a moment before she placed it back on the cradle. She stood and stretched before heading to the shower.
“She broke her hip?” Marie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Early this morning. She was trying to get one of her cats out of a tree.” Mark’s face looked grim, but Marie wanted to giggle. Just a little. “How do you feel about being a bartender?” he asked pointedly.
“Fine. I’ve never done it before, but I’m willin’ to learn.” She smiled up at him.
“Good. You’re our best waitress. So that’s why I’m promoting you.” He walked into the bar, Marie followed.
“So that means more money, right?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes it does. I think you’ll do well at this. Darwin will help you, and it’s not a payday weekend. Shouldn’t be too busy,” he explained as he walked behind the bar and motioned for her to follow. “This here’s our bartender bible. Everyone’s added to it over the years, every drink known to man is in here.” He handed her the three-ring binder. “But don’t worry. Most of these guys order beer and nothing more complicated than rum and cokes.” He motioned to the well and liquor bottles. “If they ask for something you don’t know how to make, ask them what’s in it.” He sighed and continued, “Now let me explain about free pouring.”
Her instruction lasted an hour, and she hoped fervently that she wouldn’t forget anything. It was all a bit overwhelming.
Darwin arrived and brought ice for the well and checked the kegs. He smiled at her and winked before going off to do his other tasks.
“Alright, time to open the doors. You ready?” Mark asked her.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” She tried to hide her nervousness.
“You’ll do fine.” He patted her on the back and left. She flipped through the binder and read some of the handwritten drink recipes scrawled across the pages. One page was entitled: Fireball, and listed instructions. She smiled to herself and thought of John. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, but occasionally she would see something (usually fire or a candle) and she would think of him.
The deejay showed up a few minutes later and waved to her from his booth in the corner. He was a nice enough guy, so she could forgave him for the country music he played. The small dance floor was crowded most nights with people line dancing. Marie had to frequently walk through them to get to the kitchen.
She watched as people began to trickle in to the bar, and the music started. She could do this. She had to.
“Look at you behind the bar!” Eddie had to yell to be heard above the music and crowd of people.
“Yeah. This is crazy!” Marie laughed when he waggled his eyebrows at her. They both cringed when the deejay’s voice came over the speakers:
“Your bartender tonight is the Magical Marie! Show her your love!”
Another country song came on, but the crowds cheering could be heard above the music.
“Why does he keep doing that?” she asked Eddie. It was the third time that night.
“Well, he used to work in a strip club…”
“Are you serious?” She couldn’t help laughing.
“You’re doing well! I’ll let you get back to work, Oh Magical One.” He smirked at her and left for the kitchen.
Marie found that bartending, like anything else, had a pattern. She would take drink orders, deliver them, and collect the money. And then she would do it again. Darwin kept her well full of ice, and by the end of the night she felt comfortable pouring liquor to the count of three. The large tip jar that Mark had provided her with was overflowing by the time the deejay announced the last song.
She couldn’t remember that last time she compared sitting down to heaven. She sighed heavily when she sat opposite of Mark and counted out her till and receipts for the night.
“How’d it go, Marie?” She knew he had checked on her several times that night, strolling through the bar to keep his eye on things.
“Fine, thanks.” She smiled up at him. Her tip money had more than tripled since stepping behind the bar.
“Good. Now will you sign this ‘Get Well’ card for Marla?” She laughed out loud when she saw that it had a picture of a cat clinging to a tree branch on it.
“Gimme a pen.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I don't own X-Men.