Laurie Meyer Brought Bars

                               Laurie Meyer Brought Bars


         Judy Polanski quickly washed her hands in the kitchen sink and patted them dry with a dish towel as she moved to the oven.  A rush of hot, dry air and rich, hearty aroma rushed up her arms and smothered her face as she opened the door.  She put on oven mitts and pulled the zucchini, mushroom and taleggio tart out of the oven and set it on top of the stove.  The doorbell rang causing her to stop.
         “Herb!” she yelled to her husband.  “Can you get the door?”
         She waited for a moment, but there was no response.  “Herb?” she yelled again.  She could only hear For Your Love by Humble Pie playing on the stereo in the living room.  The doorbell rang a second time and Judy took off her oven mitts and tossed them on the counter.  As she walked frantically down the hallway Herb opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out nearly colliding with her.
         “Sorry,” Herb said as he followed Judy.  “I was a little busy.”
         “I guess so,” Judy replied over her shoulder fanning her hand before her face.  “Did you light a candle?”
         “Yep,” Herb replied as he ran his fingers through his thinning gray hair to straighten the part and then pulled at his new Packers sweatshirt to straighten it over his pot belly.
         “Hello,” a timid call echoed from the front door.
         Judy arrived at the entry to find their dear old friends, George and Renee Bancroft, stepping out of the dark, cool early autumn evening into their home.
         “Hi guys,” Judy greeted melodically.
         “I hope we’re not too early,” Renee offered apologetically.
         “Oh, heavens no,” Judy re-assured her.  “Come on in.”
         “I brought over some chicken and dumplings,” Renee offered up the Cornell Ware covered pot to her host.
         “That will be perfect on a night like this,” Judy said and took the pot and led Renee to the kitchen.
         Leaving the front door open so they could see out the storm door the two men walked silently into the living room to a wet bar stationed along the far wall.
         “So, what are you drinking tonight, George?” Herb asked as he stepped behind the bar.
         “How ‘bout Manhattans,” George replied as he sat on a bar stool opposite Herb.
         “Good choice.”
         “Did you catch any of the Badger game today?” George inquired as he leaned forward on the bar, straightened his wire rimmed glasses and scratched at his white beard.
         “Unbelievable,” Herb said excitedly and shook his head once.  “Their defense came up huge again.  What is up with that offense though, hey?  Barry’s got to be pulling what’s left of his hair out over this.”
         “Yeah, but they keep winning, which is more than I can say ‘bout our Packers.”
         “Who have they got tomorrow?”
         “At Minnesota.”
         “Oh, shit.  There’s another loss.  Favre just can’t win in that dome.”  Herb set George’s drink down in front of him.  “See if that needs anything.”
         George swirled his olive and pickled mushroom garnish through the liquor, gently rattling cubes of ice in the rocks glass.  He took a sip.  “Perfect.”
         “Real good then,” Herb said.  “I’ll be right back.  I’m gonna go see what the ladies need to drink.”
         George sat quietly for a minute, then grabbed his cocktail and walked over to the bay window overlooking the autumn dried garden in the back yard as Steppenwolf’s Magic Carpet Ride pumped through the stereo behind him.  He squinted to peer through his reflection trying not to acknowledge the ghost of himself obscuring his view.  A crescent moon rose above the privacy fence surrounding the back yard and illuminated the half leafless trees.  He shuddered knowing that another winter would soon be upon them, his sixty-first.
         The storm door at the front of the house closed with a rattle.  George snapped around to see his next door neighbor, Miles Long, enter the house with a brown bagged bottle in his hand.
         “Holy Christ,” George grinned.  “There’s trouble if I ever seen it.”
         Miles chuckled.  “Hey George, how’s tricks?” he asked as he took off his fleece vest and hung it on the empty coat rack by the door.
         “Oh, I can’t complain,” he replied as he held up his cocktail and gave a little swirl.  “Where’s Peaches?”
         “She had to work tonight,” Miles stated as he walked into the living room and pulled a bottle of Chivas Regal from the paper bag and set both on the bar.  “She may stop over after work.  We’ll see.”
         George walked back over to the bar and took his seat as Herb returned from the Kitchen.
         “Miles,” Herb greeted cheerily.  “I’m glad to see you could make it.”  He then noticed the new bottle on top of the bar.  “Oooh, Chivas, now that’s some good shit there.”
         Herb ducked behind the bar momentarily and popped back up placing three ice-filled rocks glasses on the bar.  “The ladies are having Old Fashioneds,” he informed his companions.  “I’m gonna sample some of this Chivas.  What would you like, Miles?”
         “Well, since you’re opening it, I guess I’ll have some of the Chivas too.”
         Herb bent down and loaded a fourth glass with ice.
         Miles plopped down on the bar stool next to George and placed his cell phone on the bar.  He stretched, yawned, and ran his fingers through his thick dark hair.  “So George, are you gonna cut some wood pretty soon here, or are you gonna have it delivered this year?”
         Herb slid Miles his drink and carried the Old Fashioneds off to the kitchen.  “Thanks,” Miles said after him.
         “I’m gonna have it delivered this year,” George said.  “But my boys are planning to go next weekend, so I was thinkin’ ‘bout goin’ with ‘em.  I’m too old to do this shit by myself anymore.  It’s just too much work for me.”
         “Would it be alright if I tag along?”  Miles took a sip of his cocktail.  “I need to get some wood for the winter.”
         “Yah, sure.  I’ll give you a call later this week and let you know the details once I know them.”
         “Right on man, thanks.”
         Mile’s cell phone chirped and vibrated on the bar.  He picked it up and studied the incoming number on the display before he silenced the phone and returned it to the bar.
         “So what was that?” George asked.
         “My mom called,” Miles informed him.  “But I’m not gonna talk with her now.  That would take me away from the party for at least a half-hour or so.”
         George chuckled and shook his head.  “Christ, you young folks and your phones.  You carry them around so you can talk to anyone anywhere, and then when they call, you don’t answer.”
         “Ah, it’s a matter of convenience,” Miles countered.  “You should think about getting one, they’re really handy.”
         “I’ve lived sixty- one years without one and I’ve gotten by just fine.  I don’t see any reason to need one now.”
         “What’s that?” Herb asked as he returned behind the bar and took a sip of his chilled Chivas.
         “The cell phones,” George said.
         “Mmm,” Herb nodded as he swallowed a sip.  “I have no use for those things.  It really pisses me off to see people driving and talking on them.  I mean, I have no problem with people having and using them, but Christ, have a little common sense and get off the road if you’re gonna talk on the phone.  I think people get too damn distracted with all of the technology these days.”
         “Well, that may be,” Miles admitted.  “But, the convenience and the fact that they’re handy if you have an emergency are well worth it.”
         “Right, right,” George chuckled and pretended to be talking on a phone.  “Hello, 911?  Can you send an ambulance?  I’ve been hurt in an accident.  You see, I was talking on my cell phone while driving….”
         Herb laughed out loud and took another sip of his cocktail while Miles grinned and shook his head.  Their good natured ribbing of their young friend was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.  The three men turned to see three more neighbors, Sarah Grolsch accompanied by Jim and Sue Wetstein, enter the house before anyone came to the door.
         “Hey fellas,” Jim greeted quickly and hurried off to the kitchen with a tray of assorted cheeses and sausages and a pot of pulled pork.
         Sarah and Sue took off their sweaters and hung them on the coat rack before walking into the living room to join the men at the bar.
         “Good evening ladies,” Miles greeted.
         “Hello,” Sue returned.
         “So, how’s tricks?” Sarah asked as she sat on the barstool next to George leaving the last on the end for Sue.
         “Things are good,” Herb replied.  “How’s by you?”
         “Ah, can’t complain,” Sarah replied nonchalantly.
         “Same here,” Sue concurred.
         “What would you ladies like to drink?” Herb asked with a broad smile.
         “I’ll have an Old Fashioned, sweet,” Sue ordered.
         “What are you having?” Sarah asked George.
         “Manhattan,” He replied simply.
         “I don’t know that I’m in the mood for anything that strong.  How is it?”
         “Real good,” he replied and offered her the half full glass.
         Sarah cautiously put the cocktail to her lips and took a sip.  “Oh, that’s really good.  Nice work,” she said congratulating Herb.  “I’ll have one of these.”
         “What would Jim like?” Herb asked Sue as he began to work on the ladies cocktails.
         “You can make him an Old Fashioned, sour,” Sue decided.  “He likes that about as well as anything.”
         A moment of silence ensued as the four guests watched their host procure libations in the warm lamp lit room infused with classic music from the sixties.
         “And so…” George said slowly and softly and took a sip of his cocktail.
         “Is Laurie coming tonight?” Sarah asked no one in particular.
         “Judy said she was,” Herb replied as he dropped cherry garnishes in the Old Fashioneds and olive and pickled mushroom garnish into the Manhattan.
         “That will be nice if she does,” Sarah replied.  I think she needs to get out.  I don’t think I’ve seen her since the service and that was over a month ago.”
         “My God, has it been a month already?” Sue asked and took a sip of her cocktail.  “Mmm, good job Herbie.”  Sue raised her eyebrows and looked at her drink.  “I heard on the news before we came over that another six got it from an I.E.D. today.”
         “Yah!  Yah!  So this is where the party’s at,” Jim boomed in a jovial voice.  He carried a glass half full of melting ice in each hand and still had on his atomic lime green bowling shirt with an orange stripe down the middle and embroidered name on the left chest.
         The group greeted him as he set the glasses on the bar.  “The ladies in the kitchen would like another round,” he informed Herb.
         Herb handed Jim the Old Fashioned prepared for him and began refilling the empty glasses.
         “So how’d you guys make out today?” Miles asked Jim.
         “We lost by two stinkin’ pins,” an air of disgust hung in Jim’s voice.  “It’s that stinkin’ knob-shine Larry.  He’s gotta learn to pick up a spare.  If he gets one or two of those a game, we’d be undefeated this season.”
         Laughter trickled through the group of neighbors.
         “Yah, Yah, you just keep telling yourself that,” George teased.
         “Oh, I will.  Believe you me,” Jim continued seriously after taking a gulp of his cocktail.  “Ya know, there’s just something wrong with that guy.  I’m not sure I trust him.  I mean, not only can he not pick up a spare to save his life, but he says he’s lived in Wisconsin his whole life, yet I’ve never seen him eat anything but Velveeta.”
         “Velveeta?  What the hell’s that?” George asked.
         “I think it’s one of those California cheeses,” Miles chuckled.
         Judy and Renee entered the living room from the kitchen and closed in behind Jim.
         “Perfect timing,” Herb said he speared cherries and dropped the garnishes into the cocktails before handing the glasses to Jim who in turn handed them to Judy and Renee.
         “Thank you my dear,” Judy said.  “Everything will be ready in about fifteen minutes or so.”  Judy then motioned for Renee to follow her to the couch.  They sat and Judy opened a Martha Stewart Living magazine and flipped through to a recipe page.  She handed the magazine to Renee and sat back to enjoy her cocktail as Renee read through the article Judy had presented to her.
         Light, nearly festive conversation continued to flow over the bar along with cocktails as the classic sixties music continued to fill the background.
         The doorbell rang.  Judy set her cocktail on a coaster on the coffee table and got up to answer the door.  The group of neighbors gathered at the bar ceased their conversation to see Judy meet two blonde women in their mid twenties in the entrance way.  After greeting them, the taller of the two guests presented Judy with a baking pan covered with foil.  The young women hung up their jackets on the coat rack and followed Judy into the living room.
         “Look everyone,” Judy said with a genuine excitement so profound it sounded condescending, “Laurie brought bars.”  Judy turned back to Laurie and Mary.  “You girls make yourselves comfortable.  Herb will get you whatever you like to drink.”  Then Judy disappeared into the kitchen with the tray of bars.
         “Hi folks,” Mary said cheerily as she led Laurie to the small group congregated at the altar of alcohol.
         “Good evening,” George responded.  “I’m glad to see you could make it out, Laurie.”  He smiled weakly as he studied her pale, gaunt face.  He could tell she had lost weight.  She was thin to begin with, and her clothes still fit well, but he could see it in her face.  Dark gray circles lightly covered with makeup lay under her powder blue eyes.  She looked tired and worn even though it had been a month since her husband’s untimely return home.  George could see it still was overwhelming for her.  In seeing her this way, George was reminded of exactly how lucky he was, he and Renee.  It sickened him to think of Renee having had to walk that same lonely path as Laurie.  “Would you like to sit?” he offered and got off his stool.
         “Yes, thank you,” Laurie smiled and took over his place at the bar.
         Mary stepped in between Laurie and George, wedging herself up to the bar.  She looked at George and teasingly nudged him with her elbow.  “Make way for the chopped liver,” she said sarcastically.
         A broad smile spread across George’s face and he chuckled as he took a half step back.
         “What would you ladies like to drink?” Herb asked.
         “How ‘bout the Chivas,” Miles suggested as he slid his empty glass over to Herb for a refill.
         “I don’t know,” Laurie hesitated.  “I guess I’ll have an Old Fashioned, sour with extra bitters.”
         “You got it,” Herb smiled and looked at Mary.  “How ‘bout you, Mary?”
         “I’ll do a Manhattan,” she replied with a nod.
         “Good choice,” George added and patted his neighbor on the back as he set his glass, half full of ice, on the bar.  “I’ll do one too.”
         “So, what’s new and exciting?” Sarah asked as she pulled a cigarette from a pack of Marlboro lights, set the pack on the bar and lit up as she looked at Laurie.  Herb placed a glass ashtray within reach.
         “Nothing really,” Laurie replied in a rather monotone voice.  “I’ve been back to work this last week and a half.  I guess that’s new, but not particularly exciting.  I’m just trying to move on,”  Laurie tapped the pack of cigarettes with her finger as Herb set her Old Fashioned in front of her.  “May I have one?” she timidly asked Sarah.
         “Oh, sure, help yourself.”
         Laurie tentatively pulled out a cigarette and put it to her lips.  Sarah offered her a light.  Laurie took a puff and then sipped her cocktail.  “It’s still really hard to do anything.  I mean, it just seems like it will never get better.”
         “It will,” Judy replied as she returned from the kitchen and stood at the end of the bar next to Jim.  “You just have to be patient and give yourself time.”
         Laurie nodded, blinked her swelling eyes and sipped her drink.  “Well, I would like to thank all of you for your support.  You’ve all helped out a lot.  You’ve been like family.”
         “Well you just let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help, dear,” Renee replied.
         Laurie rested her cigarette in the ashtray and wiped at her waterlogged eyes with her long, slender fingers.  Once she was certain she had control of her tears, she sniffed once, smiled and nodded.
         An uneasy hush fell over the group of neighbors as Pictures of Matchstick Men by Status Quo played in the background.
         “Have you heard anything from Steven lately, Mary?” Sarah asked awkwardly breaking the silence.
         “I got an email from him yesterday, actually,” Mary replied in a surprisingly subdued voice.  “He’s doing well, he said, he always does.  He never tells me what really goes on over there.”  Mary took a long sip of her drink as George and Herb shot one another knowing looks.
         “Well, it must have been good to hear from him again,” Sarah encouraged.  “What all did he have to say?”
         Mary sighed and looked off into the distance.  “It was wonderful to hear from him again.  But, he said the scuttlebutt going through the unit is that their tour is going to get extended for another couple of months.”
         “Aye-yai-yai,” George gruffed.  “Not again.”
         Mary nodded and sipped her drink as Laurie wrapped her arm around Mary’s waist and pulled her close, gently hugging her.
         “That’s dirty pool!” George added angrily shaking his head.  “They didn’t do that to us back in Nam.”
         “Yeah, but we had the draft back then,” Herb reminded George.  “There was a constant supply of replacements for us.”
         “That’s true,” George concurred with a nod.  “But it’s still rotten as hell to keep extending their tour.  Once they’ve done their duty, send ‘em back.”
         “Now wait a minute,” Sarah interrupted.  “The government needs them.  We need them.  We gotta get all these terrorists.”
         “Ha!” Miles burst from the end of the bar.  “The whole thing smacks of political corruption to me.  If we wanted to fight terrorists, we’d be fighting terrorists, not occupying countries and fostering civil wars.”
         Jim firmly nudged Miles in the ribs with an elbow.  Miles snapped a look of wonder at Jim who nodded toward Laurie and Mary.  “Show a little respect for the ladies and their sacrifices and the sacrifices of their husbands,” Jim said softly, yet firmly.
         A tense silence befell the group as Pictures of Matchstick Men continued in the background.  George looked over at Mary and Laurie, both of whom looked down at their drinks.
         “Well,” Judy broke the silence.  “The pizza should be done.  I’ll bring that out and you guys can start when you like.”
         “Sounds good to me,” Jim said and followed Judy into the kitchen.  “I’m starving.”
         “Are you ladies coming?” George asked Laurie and Mary.
         “Yeah,” Mary replied and tugged gently at Laurie’s elbow.  “Let’s go see what’s all here.”
         George smiled warmly at the young ladies as they got off their barstools, and he escorted them into the kitchen.  As they walked by the couch, Renee got up and fell in line behind them.  Herb quickly glanced around to assess everyone’s cocktails.  Once he was convinced no one needed anything, he hurried out from behind the bar. 
         “I gotta get some of that tart before Jim eats it all,” Herb said over his shoulder, leaving Sarah and Miles at the bar.
         Once everyone was out of the room Sarah lit another cigarette.  “You know we’re doing the right thing, Miles.”
         Miles grinned bitterly and took a quick sip of his cocktail.  “If by that you mean invading a country under false pretense and, in effect, killing thousands of innocent people is the right thing, then, yeah, I would have to agree.”
         Sarah rolled her eyes and took a drag of her cigarette.  “Look,” she said as she angrily looked at Miles.  “I know it’s not easy doing what we’re doing, but it’s the right thing.  And quite frankly, if a few sand niggers have to die to secure our borders, then so be it.  In fact, I think we should round up all of them that are in the States and send them back.”
         “Oh Christ!” Miles exclaimed as his face contorted in disgust from her comments.  “You’ve got real issues lady.”
         Jim returned from the kitchen with his plate piled high with hearty helpings of all the foods available in the kitchen.  He set his plate on the coffee table and walked over to the bar to collect his cocktail.
         “You guys gotta go in there and get some of this,” he encouraged Sarah and Miles as he eased back in the middle of the couch, placed his cocktail on the coffee table and moved his plate to his lap so he could commence consumption.
         “Holy man!” Sarah replied astounded by the amount of food nearly overflowing his plate.  “What have you all got there?”
         “Oh, a little of this, a little of that, a few dreams,” Jim joked before he took a bite of the tart.
         “It doesn’t look like there’s anything little about that,” Miles teased.
         Mary and Laurie returned to the bar with modest samplings of all the food items.  They sat on the two open stools at the bar and began to delicately pick at their plates as Incense and Peppermints by The Strawberry Alarm Clock played behind them. 
         “So, how is it?” Sarah asked as she squashed out her cigarette in the ashtray.
         “The tart is really yummy,” Mary said.
         “So is the pork,” Laurie added.
         “I better go get some before it’s all gone,” Sarah said as she got off her barstool.  “You coming?” she asked Miles.
         “I’m gonna finish my drink first,” Miles said casually trying not to let his disgust be obvious.
         Miles looked at his two neighbors eating silently down at the other end of the bar.  He could remember when each of them moved into the neighborhood with their husbands.  They were so young and full of hope and innocence.  All of that had changed now.  Certainly they still had hopes, but they now hoped for different things and their hope was forced from desperation.  A pang of guilt began to chew at Mile’s chest as he envisioned how his open objection to the war, the conflict their husbands volunteered to go fight in because they believed they needed to defend their country,  hurt them by assaulting their hopes and possibly pushing their desperation deeper.
         “I didn’t mean any disrespect by what I said earlier,” Miles began softly.  Laurie put her fork down and looked at Miles with bitter angry eyes.  “I think very highly of your husbands.  I just meant….” Miles shook his head and continued.  “I don’t know.  It’s all just such a shame.”
         Mary turned to Miles and shot him a look as her cheeks quickly flushed.  “See here, Miles.  I don’t care what you think you know, but I know Steve’s going to come home and the Iraqi people will be free and their government will work.  I have to believe that.  It is the only way I justify any of this.”
         “No,” Laurie said softly and shook her head.  “There is no justification to this.  I don’t know that we can justify the thousands and thousands of deaths and all of the destruction.”  Laurie gently placed her hand on Mary’s shoulder slowly spinning her so they were face to face.  Laurie’s eyes watered.  “Never take anything for granted.  You may believe with all your heart and soul your man is coming home.  But, you may have already lived your entire life with him.  You just have to love that life whether he comes home breathing or in a box.”  A tear rolled over Laurie’s cheek and she wiped it away with her long, slender fingers.  Mary looked to Laurie searching for hope.  Laurie took a deep breath and smiled at Mary.  “I will hope and pray with you that Steve comes home healthy and well real soon.  But that’s all that matters right now, that he comes home healthy.  He just needs to get back in one piece.”
         The two sat silently, confronted with the frightening truth of the futile possibilities.  Laurie looked deeply into Mary’s deep blue eyes leaking hope.  Mary knew Laurie was right and reluctantly began to accept the fact that the only thing that mattered was that Steve came home safe.
         “I’ll be here for you,” Laurie said as she gently patted Mary on the thigh, “just like you were always there for me.”  Then with a smile and a wink Laurie continued, “Talk with Judy and Renee, too.  They went through what we’re going through before we were born.”
         Herb returned from the kitchen with a plate piled high and returned to his station behind the bar.  “How are we doing on drinks?” he asked.
         “I’ll have a double,” Miles softly replied with swollen eyes.  He slid his empty glass to Herb as Bob Dylan’s All Along the Watchtower began in the background.