The Beginning

She pushed the sunglasses to the top of her head as she drifted into the nearly empty bar, the rectangle of sunlight disturbing the dust motes scattering over the dark wooden furniture. The door had barely closed behind her when she heard a voice call out, “Sit anywhere you like.”

Blinking to get her bearings, she perched on a stool letting her leather sandal rest on the brass rail at her feet. She pulled the collar of her shirt away from her neck as if to dissipate the heat of the balmy August night.

“What’ll you have, Red?”

Beverley turned sharply, eyes narrowing at the annoyingly predictable nickname. The woman behind the bar was pulling dripping pint glasses out of the washer and placing them onto a drying rack. She turned on the sink’s faucet and rinsed her hands, quickly blotting them on the towel at her waist.

Beverley twisted her hair up into a sloppy bun. “Clever. You think of that all by yourself?”

The bartender raised her arms in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. What can I get you?”

Beverley’s eyes scanned over the draft choices, sighing at the lack of selection. “Vodka cran and a menu.”

“Coming right up.” There wasn’t a single wasted move as she poured the drink, gliding through the bar to set the glass in front of the red head. She reached behind her, next to the register and produced a menu, cocking her eyebrow as she handed it to Beverley. “You waiting on someone? Or is it dinner for one?”

Beverley opened the menu, talking into its folded pages “One. I just moved here. Didn’t feel like cooking.”

“That’s a shame.”

“What?” Her head snapped up.

The bartender looked around and lowered her voice to whisper, “The food here isn’t very good.”

Beverley leaned her head in closer, matching her whisper. “Won’t you get in trouble for saying something like that?”

She stretched her fingertips out to lay against the bar’s length. “It’s my last day. I really don’t care.”

An odd flicker of disappointment scampered across Beverley’s face. “Moving out?”

“No. Just a new, um, situation. Job, I guess you could say.”

“Me too. New, um, situation.” Her eyes twinkled as she gently teased the brunette. She offered her hand over the bar. “Beverley, by the way.”

“Allison.” She gripped her hand firmly, shaking just once and smiling. She lifted her eyebrows and nodded at the open menu lying on the bar. “You know what you want?”

“You know what? Surprise me.” She closed the menu and handed it back to Allison.

“You bet.” Sunlight flooded the bar again as a group of young men wandered in. Obviously familiar with them, Allison began pulling drafts off the tap. As the pints of Guinness settled, she disappeared, leaving Beverley to sip her drink.

She returned from the back and smiled at Bev as she finished off the pour and hefted the four glasses without difficulty, depositing them at the booth the young men had taken.

A gruff voice called from the back, “Yo, Al! Order up.” She hastened to the back room and returned with a heaping corned beef sandwich that she spun into place in front of Beverley.

The door opened again, and the evening rush officially began. After seating a few groups, she dropped a check next to Bev. “Not trying to rush you out, but I might get busy.”

“No problem.” Beverley finished her sandwich and caught herself yawning from the day’s move. Dropping enough for the tab and tip, she caught Allison’s eye as she left and gave a self-conscious wave.

---

Beverley focused on the man in the white coat at the front of the room, though her eyes occasionally flickered about, making snap judgments on the other students around her.

“There are ninety-six of you starting today. It is my intention that ninety-six of you finish. If we didn’t think you have what it takes to be a doctor, you wouldn’t be here. There is no room for self-doubt. It will be hard enough without that.”

She looked down at the syllabus in front of her, running her finger over the number of chapters that had to be read and memorized each week.

“Classes don’t officially start…” He was interrupted by a sudden clatter of books dropping to the ground. When he raised his eyes to the door at the back of the lecture hall, ninety-five pairs of eyes joined him. A rather red and flushed Allison was on the ground, attempting to retrieve her books. She tucked her chin to her chest and melted into the first seat she could find.

“Thank you for joining us. As I was saying, classes don’t officially start until tomorrow. I know some of you have already started planning a night with your textbooks. There will be time enough for that. Have a little fun.” He rustled the papers in front of him before chucking them into his briefcase. “It might be your last chance. See you in the Gross Lab tomorrow morning. Seven.” He gaze turned to Allison. “Sharp.”

Allison dropped her head onto her books, thudding rhythmically and silently cursing herself. Her head snapped up when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“So, new, um, situation?” Beverley sidled into the chair next to a wide-eyed Allison.

“Who’s going to believe a bartender that says she’s going to medical school?”

“Me.”

“You,” Allison scoffed. “What about you? You and your new job.”

Beverley crossed her arms over her chest. “My friends back home made me feel self-conscious about it. So, I stopped talking about it.”

“What a pair we are.”

“Right? Up until ten minutes ago, I thought I was the only one here not spawned by a family of Ivy League doctors.”

Allison chewed on her bottom lip, looking up at Beverley sheepishly, “Beverley?”

She clamped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit! You are spawned by a family of Ivy League doctors!”

Allison laughed, throaty and loud. “God, no. Just…well…can we keep the bartending between us?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I guess. If it’s important to you.”

“Yeah, it is.” Beverley stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder and was about to walk away when Allison continued, “Feel like taking his advice?”

“What?”

“Feel like having a little fun, Red?”

“You keep that up, and I’ll tell everyone how we met.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Allison stood, leaning over to heft her books into her arms. Beverley grabbed a few off the top, tucked them under her arm, and the pair walked out of the classroom.