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Authors: Erika Robuck
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and he stared. She felt self-conscious without her baseball cap
and work clothes and looked for an exit. Drunken soldiers surrounded her, filling
the space leading out of the bar. The only pathway open was the one leading to him.
Shetook a deep breath and started forward. He never took his eyes off her and, as she
neared him, broke into a grin.
“We keep running into each other,” he said.
“I know. I’ve never seen you in my life, and now I’ve seen you three times.”
“This look suits you more,” he said.
“What—female?”
He laughed, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
“Smoke?” he said. She took the cigarette he offered and lit it off his. When she leaned
into him she could smell the warm, pleasant spice of his aftershave.
“You looking for him?” He nodded down the bar. She turned to see Hemingway slip into
his chair. He laughed loudly at something Skinner said. Mariella flushed and was glad
for the shadows, hoping Gavin didn’t notice her reaction.
Suddenly, a man fell off the chair next to Mariella and into a drunken vet. The vet
punched the man in the side of the face and they began to fight, until Skinner came
out from behind the bar and dragged them out the door by their necks.
“Kinda rough in here for a lady,” said Gavin.
“There are plenty of women in here.”
“Not like you.”
Mariella looked at the crowd and saw that most of the women there were clearly trying
to earn a living. She felt more pity for them than disgust. She knew she was lucky
to have found steady, honest employment.
“So what’s it like working for him?” asked Gavin.
“It’s…interesting. They have a lot of visitors. I’m very busy.”
“What about him?”
“I don’t see him much. He writes early, goes fishing when it gets hot, and goes to
the bar in the evening. How about you? Are you working on the Overseas Highway?”
“Yeah. I live on Matecumbe Key.”
“You vets have a bad reputation around here.”
“Hemingway has a bad reputation around here.”
“I’m surrounded by thugs.”
Gavin laughed.
Mariella looked back in Papa’s direction, and he raised his glass to her and pointed
at her dress. Then he raised his eyebrows and nodded at Gavin. Papa probably thought
she was on a date with the boxer. At first she hoped he didn’t think that, but then
stopped herself. Hemingway was married. She didn’t want another woman’s husband. She
didn’t know whether she wanted any kind of man right now. Relationships led to trouble.
She knew that from her parents.
Gavin’s voice in her ear drew her attention back to him.
“Wanna dance?”
Mariella looked at the sign over the door: no vulgar dancing. She looked at the dance
floor and saw sailors gyrating all over drunken women in low-cut shirts and tight
dresses. She raised her eyebrow and pointed to the sign. He laughed and grabbed her
hand. She pulled away.
“No, really,” she said. “I’m terrible.”
“Who cares,” he said. “I am, too.”
Her eyes flicked over to Hemingway, and she saw that he was watching them with interest,
maybe even jealousy. She turned back to Gavin and took his hand.
He pulled her close to the band, and they started a messy Lindy to the music pounding
through the bar. The next time she tried to get a glimpse of Hemingway, he was gone.
Her heart sank. She wondered whether she’d made him jealous, but then realized the
madness of the whole thing, from her dressing up, to coming out, to trying to anger
him. This behavior scared her, because it was purposeful and had a note of desperation.
She didn’t know who she was.
A couple ran into Mariella’s back and pushed her into Gavin. They bumped heads, and
laughed at each other’s absurdity. Thedrummer began banging out a solo that had soldiers throwing their girls all over the
dance floor. Gavin grabbed Mariella and flipped her over his arm, and when she landed,
she fell on her
and work clothes and looked for an exit. Drunken soldiers surrounded her, filling
the space leading out of the bar. The only pathway open was the one leading to him.
Shetook a deep breath and started forward. He never took his eyes off her and, as she
neared him, broke into a grin.
“We keep running into each other,” he said.
“I know. I’ve never seen you in my life, and now I’ve seen you three times.”
“This look suits you more,” he said.
“What—female?”
He laughed, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
“Smoke?” he said. She took the cigarette he offered and lit it off his. When she leaned
into him she could smell the warm, pleasant spice of his aftershave.
“You looking for him?” He nodded down the bar. She turned to see Hemingway slip into
his chair. He laughed loudly at something Skinner said. Mariella flushed and was glad
for the shadows, hoping Gavin didn’t notice her reaction.
Suddenly, a man fell off the chair next to Mariella and into a drunken vet. The vet
punched the man in the side of the face and they began to fight, until Skinner came
out from behind the bar and dragged them out the door by their necks.
“Kinda rough in here for a lady,” said Gavin.
“There are plenty of women in here.”
“Not like you.”
Mariella looked at the crowd and saw that most of the women there were clearly trying
to earn a living. She felt more pity for them than disgust. She knew she was lucky
to have found steady, honest employment.
“So what’s it like working for him?” asked Gavin.
“It’s…interesting. They have a lot of visitors. I’m very busy.”
“What about him?”
“I don’t see him much. He writes early, goes fishing when it gets hot, and goes to
the bar in the evening. How about you? Are you working on the Overseas Highway?”
“Yeah. I live on Matecumbe Key.”
“You vets have a bad reputation around here.”
“Hemingway has a bad reputation around here.”
“I’m surrounded by thugs.”
Gavin laughed.
Mariella looked back in Papa’s direction, and he raised his glass to her and pointed
at her dress. Then he raised his eyebrows and nodded at Gavin. Papa probably thought
she was on a date with the boxer. At first she hoped he didn’t think that, but then
stopped herself. Hemingway was married. She didn’t want another woman’s husband. She
didn’t know whether she wanted any kind of man right now. Relationships led to trouble.
She knew that from her parents.
Gavin’s voice in her ear drew her attention back to him.
“Wanna dance?”
Mariella looked at the sign over the door: no vulgar dancing. She looked at the dance
floor and saw sailors gyrating all over drunken women in low-cut shirts and tight
dresses. She raised her eyebrow and pointed to the sign. He laughed and grabbed her
hand. She pulled away.
“No, really,” she said. “I’m terrible.”
“Who cares,” he said. “I am, too.”
Her eyes flicked over to Hemingway, and she saw that he was watching them with interest,
maybe even jealousy. She turned back to Gavin and took his hand.
He pulled her close to the band, and they started a messy Lindy to the music pounding
through the bar. The next time she tried to get a glimpse of Hemingway, he was gone.
Her heart sank. She wondered whether she’d made him jealous, but then realized the
madness of the whole thing, from her dressing up, to coming out, to trying to anger
him. This behavior scared her, because it was purposeful and had a note of desperation.
She didn’t know who she was.
A couple ran into Mariella’s back and pushed her into Gavin. They bumped heads, and
laughed at each other’s absurdity. Thedrummer began banging out a solo that had soldiers throwing their girls all over the
dance floor. Gavin grabbed Mariella and flipped her over his arm, and when she landed,
she fell on her
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