Once I’d stopped at the grocery store and stocked up on food, there was only one thing left for me to do. Get a job.
I had a little bit of savings, but it wasn’t going to get me very far. After paying for first month’s rent and security on the apartment, nearly half of it was already gone. Most of my money had gone toward paying for college, which wasn’t cheap. I’d been lucky enough to get in with a scholarship, but it only covered a portion of the cost. It was never a problem when I was with Steven because he always insisted on paying for everything. Not having to shell out money for rent, food and utilities had allowed me to pay off most of what I owed, but unfortunately, it hadn’t left much in my savings.
I used to think it was sweet and generous that Steven had insisted on taking care of me, I’d come to realize that it was just another way to make me reliant upon him. As long as I needed him, I wouldn’t leave. With Steven, it was always about control. Controlling the way I dressed, the way I acted, and even where I worked. He’d managed to disguise it as love, but now that I saw it for what it was, I would never make that mistake again.
People were unreliable. They would always let you down, if you let them. From now on, the only person I would depend on was me.
However, the first step to independence was getting a job, so I scoured the classifieds for openings. There wasn’t much to choose from but at this point, I wasn’t picky. I would do almost anything as long as it paid the bills.
I struck out with the first couple phone calls, as the positions had already been filled, but eventually got lucky with the Seaside Bar & Grille. It was right on Folly Beach, and they were looking for a waitress and bartender. I’d never worked as a bartender, but since I waited tables throughout high school, they told me to come in and apply with the manager.
I parked in the small gravel lot behind the restaurant and went inside. It had a great beachy, rustic feel with driftwood and surfboards lining the walls. There was a big bar at the center, surrounded by tables and chairs, and a small area sectioned off for a band. One wall was completely open and led to an outside dining area that overlooked the water. It was before noon, so the place was empty aside from a couple of staff members getting ready for the lunch crowd.
“Can I help you with something?” A friendly woman who looked to be about thirty or so approached when she saw me standing awkwardly near the entrance.
“I called earlier about the job opening,” I said. “I’m supposed to meet with the manager.”
“That would be me. I’m Sarah.” She extended her hand to shake mine. “You must be Olivia.”
“Yes, thank you so much for meeting with me.”
“No problem. You said you had some waitressing experience?”
“I waited tables at a diner for about four years. It’s been a while, but I’m sure I can pick it up quickly.”
“Oh, it’ll all come back. It’s like riding a bike,” she smiled. “So, we serve lunch and dinner, and then after the dinner rush, we clear out all the tables and usually have live music or a DJ for the night crowd. The position I have open is mainly for a waitress during the lunch and dinner shifts, but we may end up putting you behind the bar a couple nights a week. We’ll have someone show you the ropes, of course, since you’ve never bartended before, but it’s pretty straightforward. Think you’d be up for that?”
“Absolutely. It sounds great.” If it meant she was giving me a job, I would do whatever she wanted me to.
“Terrific! The job is only part-time for right now, but once the season hits and we get busy, you’ll be able to have as many hours as you want.”
“That’s fine, I’ll take whatever you can offer me.” It wasn’t ideal, but I could find another part-time job in the meantime. “When can I start?”
“How about Friday night?” Sarah asked. “Come in around four, and I’ll put you on the dinner shift so Melanie can train you. Then, if you’re up for it, you can stay and get some experience behind the bar, scope the place out and see how everything works.”
“Perfect. I’ll be here.”
After leaving the Seaside, I decided to drive into Charleston to see if I could find another job. I wanted to work as much as possible so I could start saving up some money. Besides, it wasn’t as though I had anything better to do. If I wasn’t working, I would be hanging around the house by myself, and that was just sad.
I started on Market Street, in the French Quarter, nearby all the various street vendors, and then made my way onto King Street, where all of the upscale stores were. After stopping in numerous swanky retail shops and even a movie theater, none of which were hiring, I decided to call it a day.
Not wanting to head home yet, I opted to walk along the water and explore the city for a while. I checked out Rainbow Row, the famous pastel-colored homes on East Bay Street, and the pineapple fountain at Waterfront Park. Then, after grabbing an Italian ice from one of the street vendors, I found myself near the entrance to the South Carolina Aquarium on Charleston Harbor.
I was probably one of the only people over the age of twelve who still loved going to the aquarium, but I couldn’t help it. I’d always loved everything about the ocean. It was vast, open and endless. I was fascinated by how many amazing creatures were hiding beneath the surface. It reminded me of how much more there was out there.
Once I paid the admission, I began at the big ocean tank and looked at all the fish, sea turtles and other cool creatures. There was something relaxing about standing in the dark hallway under the blue glow of the huge tank, watching all the fish swim past in an endless circle. It was hypnotizing, and it never failed to calm me.
I was watching an adorable sea turtle swimming around the reef directly behind the glass when I heard a voice from behind me.
“You like the sea turtles?”
I turned and saw an older man wearing a polo shirt with the aquarium’s logo on it and a nametag that read, “Frank”, meaning he obviously worked there. “Yes,” I smiled. “I love them.”
“Have you been down to the Sea Turtle Hospital?” he asked.
I shook my head. “What’s that?”
“We have one of the best facilities on the east coast. They bring sick, injured or stranded sea turtles here, and we rehabilitate them until they are healthy enough to be released back into the wild.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It really is. You want me to give you the tour?”
“I’d love that,” I said, nodding my head like an eager kindergartener. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” Frank said. “We don’t normally do public tours on Wednesdays, but it’s quiet, and I’d hate to deny a fellow sea turtle lover the opportunity to see it.”
He led me downstairs to where the rescue facility was, chatting along the way. He told me that he’d been working at the aquarium for more than ten years and loved it, even though he’d never had any interest in marine life before starting there. After retiring from a stressful corporate job, he’d been looking for something different. Like me, he had been drawn to the place. I explained how I’d just moved into town and had no idea what I was doing. He was really easy to talk to, and I adored him immediately.
Frank showed me around the facility and introduced me to some of the “patients” of the hospital. The place was spectacular, and I couldn’t believe that all of this was sitting beneath the aquarium and I hadn’t ever known.
“This here is Edisto,” Frank said, gesturing to one of the tanks. “He’s a Loggerhead that they rescued off Edisto Beach, hence the name.”
“What happened to him?” He was missing one of his front flippers, making it difficult for him to swim around.
“He was badly tangled up in some fishing line. Unfortunately, it happens a lot. His was pretty bad and the damage to his flipper was too severe, so they had to amputate it.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I asked. “Will he ever get released?” I couldn’t imagine how he would be able to survive in the ocean, seeing as how he could barely swim.
“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine,” Frank said. “You’d be surprised at how well they are able to recover and adapt, with the right treatment. Pretty soon he’ll be swimming around that tank like a pro. Ain’t that right, Eddie?”
I smiled with relief. “It must be incredible to work here and get to be a part of this.”
“You know… they have an opening down here for an intern-type position in the mornings. The pay isn’t much, and day starts pretty early. It’s certainly nothing glamorous – mostly cleaning and helping with tours – but there’s also a lot of assisting the veterinarians. Usually the spots are snatched up by people studying over at the local college, but this year we’ve had trouble finding anyone. If you’re interested, I could speak to the program director…”
“Yes!” I practically shouted, jumping forward and throwing my arms around a surprised Frank. “That would be perfect!”
Frank chuckled, returning my hug. “Don’t get too excited now, I haven’t gotten you the job yet.”
But of course, he did end up getting me the job.
It was Friday night, and after two days of hassling Nate, he had finally agreed to come out with me. I was desperate to unwind, and since I didn’t have any fights coming up, I would have to settle for booze and sex. That usually did the trick, and now that I had my wingman back, it would be much easier to accomplish.
We decided to stay in Folly Beach because my place was only a couple blocks from the bar, and we wouldn’t have to drive. There were a couple of spots that I normally frequented, but the Seaside seemed to have the best food and the most decent music. Also, that’s where all the women seemed to flock. So naturally, that’s where we ended up.
The hostess seated us right away, openly flirting with us and flipping her hair around. She was cute enough, but since she worked there, I wouldn’t touch her. I would never shit where I ate, so to speak. This was one of my favorite spots, and the last thing I needed was an ex-one-night-stand making things awkward and preventing me from coming back. There were more than enough college girls and vacationers coming in on the weekends, so I stayed away from the locals.
Our waitress, Melanie, who I knew fairly well from being a regular, came over to take our order.
“Hey, Dex,” she said, pulling out her pad and paper. “Let me guess, a shot of whiskey and a Bud Light?”
“You got it,” I said, “and this guy will have the same thing.” I knew Nate well enough to know he probably only wanted a beer, but tonight was about having fun and letting loose. Even if I had to make him do it.
“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute with those, and then I’ll take your dinner order.”
“Thanks, Mel, you’re the best.”
After we ordered two burgers, I held up my shot glass and made Nate do the same. “To finally getting your freedom back!” I toasted, clinking my glass against his and letting the warm, amber liquid slide down my throat. It pooled it my stomach, heating my insides and calming me almost immediately.
There was a new bartender working behind the bar, and I did a double take when I realized it was the gorgeous girl from the beach the other day. She had her back to me, but I knew that perfect ass and blonde ponytail belonged to her.
She spun around, and when her eyes met mine there was a flicker of recognition in them. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment before she finally got back to the order she was taking. It seemed that she was a little flustered, and I wondered if it was because of me or if she was simply overwhelmed with the job. I’d never seen her here before, so she had to be new. Part of me was a little disappointed that she lived around here. I didn’t want to break my rule about hooking up with locals, but I also couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of seeing her regularly.
While Nate and I ate, I continued to watch her as she moved around behind the bar and served customers. Every once in a while I caught her sneaking a glance at me, causing her to blush and quickly look away. She was clearly trying to ignore me and yet, she couldn’t help but look over here. I liked the fact that she was seeking me out. It kind of turned me on to think that she was watching me, too.
After we paid our bill, we got up from the table and relocated to the bar. More people were flooding in, and the staff was starting to move the tables out of the way to make room for the bar crowd. Nate went to use the bathroom, and I plopped myself down on an open bar stool in front of where blondie was working.
“So, we meet again,” I said when her eyes settled on mine.
“So we do,” she replied elusively. “What can I get for you?”
Apparently, she wasn’t interested in small talk, which didn’t come as a surprise considering her stand-offish attitude toward me on the beach. Still, she’d obviously been noticing me. All the coy glances in my direction told me that she was intrigued, and yet when I sat down in front of her she acted like she wanted nothing to do with me. This girl was a total mystery.
“Two shots of Jameson,” I finally said.
She fumbled with the shot glasses, knocking one over as she placed them on the counter. I reached out to pick it up at the same time she did, causing my hand to brush against hers.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, embarrassed.
“First day?”
“Yeah. I’ve waitressed but the bartending thing is new to me.” She managed to pour the two shots without further incident. “I’m still getting the hang of it.”
“Looks to me like you’re doing just fine,” I winked, letting my eyes rake over her body. She responded by rolling her eyes and moving on to another customer.
By the time I was ready to order another drink, Nate had returned, and a couple of girls had already approached us. They were in town for a bachelorette party and were already fairly drunk. The redhead—I think her name was Bridget—was hanging off my arm and taking advantage of every possible opportunity to touch me or press herself against me. I probably could’ve taken her home right then, but I wasn’t quite ready to leave yet.
I edged up to the bar and caught blondie’s attention. “Hey, beautiful,” I said, giving her my most charming smile. “Can I have two more, please?”
“You certainly don’t waste any time.” Her eyes moved to the redhead who was clinging to me, and I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about the drinks.
“Can’t seem to keep them away.” I leaned across the bar and whispered in her ear. “But if you want to get in on this action, all you have to do is say the word, sweetheart.”
“A*shole,” she scoffed, pushing my shots toward me.
“Yup, that’s me.” I didn’t bother disagreeing with her. It was the truth, after all, but my resolve was faltering. Even though I knew she was right, it stung more than I thought it would to hear it drop from those pretty lips. I threw down some money for the drinks, plus a generous tip, but she had already moved on to help the next person.
I turned to the redhead, pulling her against me suggestively. “Are you ready to get out of here?”
“Absolutely,” she purred, trailing her finger along the waistband of my jeans.
“Good, let’s go to your place. Lead the way.”
My night-vision goggles illuminate the desert landscape in a soft green glow, and the headlights of the Humvee cast odd shadows along the edges of the desolate dirt road. We almost always travel at night, so this is the Iraq that we’re used to. The cloak of darkness offers a thin veil of protection that we don’t have under the blazing sun. The night air seems cool, despite the fact that it’s almost one hundred degrees and the scorching heat from earlier in the day radiates from the sand.
Cramped inside the armored vehicles and drenched in sweat, we pray for the slightest breeze that we know will never come. My muscles are tense from the burden of wearing my heavy armor for days on end, but it’s far better than the alternative of being vulnerable and unprotected. Often times, our protective gear is the difference between life and death.
I can see the small village in the distance, only a few hundred yards away, and I’m anxious to get there because we’ll finally have a chance to rest. The Humvee navigates over the rough terrain and with each rock and pothole that we hit, the rattle of grenades, bullets and weaponry fills the small space. It’s a comforting sound, in a way… a constant reassurance of the firepower that we’re armed with in case of an attack.
I look through the dirty bulletproof window, scanning the area ahead of us and to our flank, searching for anything out of the ordinary. No one has traveled this route in several weeks, giving insurgents plenty of time to camouflage roadside bombs along our path. Spotting something abnormal ahead of time gives us a greater chance of survival.
These roads have an eerie feeling and at night, in these desolate areas, there aren’t always clues or signs of trouble ahead. All you have is your gut telling you that something’s not right, and right now my gut is screaming at me that something is wrong.
Before I have a chance to stop the convoy, there’s a blinding flash and then a deafening sound as our Humvee lurches into the air.
I was jolted awake by my own thundering heartbeat. Covered in a cold sweat, I glanced around at my surroundings and found that I was lying in my bed, safe at home. I tried to steady my breathing and regain my bearings, reminding myself of where I was and how I got there.
As soon as the redhead and I were, well… finished… I’d made an excuse to leave and walked myself back home where I’d eventually fallen asleep. I didn’t do relationships, and I didn’t stick around for breakfast. Never anything more than a quick f*ck.
Normally a night of drinking and sex led to a peaceful night’s sleep, free from the nightmares that had been plaguing me since I returned home from Iraq. But for some reason, tonight they found me.
It was always bits and pieces of the same dream. Parts of a night that I couldn’t escape. Almost every time I fell asleep I had to relive it—the sights, the sounds, the smells—it was as real as the night it happened.
The sun was only just beginning to rise, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Once my heart had slowed to a somewhat-normal rhythm, I got out of bed and dressed to go for a run.
In the light of day, I could hide from my ghosts, but the reprieve was only temporary. As soon as I drifted to sleep, they would chase me down again.
***