A Glass of Guinness

Some things are worth the wait.

Photo by Dan Gold on Unsplash

Snapping the windshield wiper over the note for Ryan, Wanda picked her way across the icy parking lot. She paused and pivoted slowly. A few lights still gleamed from houses on the hillside. The only sounds were whispers of tamarack pines and muffled music from the pub. It was the only well-lit place among the shops opposite the depot. Not even the drone of the midnight train chugging over the pass. Maybe it was late … again.

She opened the door and sidled through the air lock. As she sat on the bar stool closest to the doorway, she spotted a couple of men who had spotted her. They held their assessment of her a bit too long. Turning toward the bay window, she focused on a voluptuous maiden's hair spilling across the pane in glorious waves and curls.

Warm lighting made it clear this establishment wasn't like the biker bar down the block. This was a beacon of shelter with good food, spirits, and laughter. After another long week waiting for Ryan to come home from his job in the city, she welcomed that shelter and laughter, if not the meat market camaraderie of the men. Finally, they realized she was not for sale and resumed their previous conversation.

It was starting to snow again. The large flakes floating through the air so beautifully would be a literal pain to shovel. Would Ryan be willing to tackle their long driveway after a week in sunny San Jose? Maybe this wouldn't last that long. Maybe the drive home wouldn't be the usual adventure of fresh snow on black ice. Her nerves would settle down once they landed in bed.

Photo by Ehud Neuhaus on Unsplash

These transitional moments between workdays and weekends always left her feeling disoriented. They had two days to get reacquainted before rising at four a.m. Monday. They'd share a short breakfast before he had to leave. After his car disappeared around the corner, she filled her days with housework. A part-time job at the library and coffee with a couple of friends fed her socially. When those activities weren't distracting her, she'd wonder about his life away from her.

Friends she would never meet filled his conversations. One friend in particular that he talked about a lot. He seemed distracted when making love. Once, he tried a particularly exotic move on her.

"I read about it in a bodice-ripper I found on the front seat of her car."

That strange remark slipped over her head at that moment, but she mused over it now. To be fair, her libido had become dormant years ago when they began this long-distance marathon. They lived separate lives. The details barely surfaced in their conversations. When his friend suddenly quit her job and boogied back to Wisconsin, it hardly came as a relief. Their present lifestyle had hypnotized her into a strange calm like a shiny, spinning bauble before her eyes. Whenever she wanted to escape the winters and the questions, she usually opted for loyalty over rage.

At last, a bartender found her sitting there. "What'll you have, darlin'?"

She smiled at his cute salutation and ordered a Guinness. She could really use its rich, nutty flavor and stalwart heft to banish the chill from her bones. This frigid mountain burg was living up to its reputation as one of the coldest places in the U.S. That applied to the people as well as the winters. The snow had failed to pile as deeply as it had in the past, and weather guessers bemoaned the changes in the climate. Still, temperatures in her little slice of the Sierras aggravated her aging joints. And navigating the social structure seemed to repel her efforts to integrate.

"It'll take some time to pour a Guinness, you know. Still want it?" The man's eyebrows lifted with the question. It took seven minutes to form the thick, creamy head on a pint of Guinness. She grinned at him, standing there in all his mountain masculinity and cowboy mustache.

"A Guinness is always worth the wait." She smiled without making eye contact. An abandoned newspaper on the bar caught her attention.

"That's my girl. Have it to you shortly." He winked as he flipped the glass upright with a juggler's flourish, filled it to the top, and left it sitting under the tap. If she were single, she could go for such a man. Then again, he was plying his charm to earn a bigger tip. That was all. And she was over the rigors of the bar scene anyway. Ryan could still make her smile when he stepped into the room; so finding comfort among the local talent never suited her needs.

She watched the bubbles rise through the black liquid, gathering seductively into the golden, foamy crown. That first mouthful would drown out the clamor of the saloon. She sat alone in her protective bubble, waiting for her mate and a Guinness, in a well-lit place where people knew when to mind their own business.

Some things were worth the wait.

If you enjoyed this post, feel free to explore other writings in the Ring Around the Basin Archive. I also love to read your comments, so please share your thoughts. Let’s start a conversation. And if you wish to support my writings, please consider subscribing or upgrading to a paid subscription. It’s now only $50/year. Even better, I would appreciate it if you could share Ring Around the Basin with your friends. Thank you!

All my books, Paradise Ridge, When the Horses Come and Go, and Ghost in the Forest are currently available on Kindle. Ghost in the Forest, is also available in paperback. Paradise Ridge is out-of-print, but the Kindle version is re-edited and better quality.