"Yes, Ms. Alisa," Veronica spoke, stuffing the phone between her neck and shoulder and typing fervently into the computer. "We can definitely hold an intimate wedding in the garden. You are welcome to come and check out the place."
"How intimate?" The woman on the phone asked in a high-pitched tone.
"Well," she answered, "I would say from the previous weddings held that not more than 50 people."
The woman inhaled sharply. "50 people? But I have more than 75 people coming to the wedding. Are you sure you can't fit more than 50 people?"
"Not if you want us to stack them on top of each other," she mumbled under her breath.
"What?"
She gripped the phone and answered, "No, I am afraid not. For everyone to be comfortable, I will not recommend a guest list of more than 50 people for our garden." Veronica saw Cassie enter through the gates and waved her over.
Ms. Rue huffed out a breath. "What do I do now?"
Veronica swallowed the response that jumped to her tongue and instead replied, "There are many beautiful inns in this area with bigger hosting capacities. I would recommend checking them out."
Veronica had to convince Alisa two more times that she indeed could not magically expand the perimeters of the garden before she finally put the phone down.
"I need a lobotomy," Veronica said as a means of greeting her best friend.
Cassie snickered. "Don't we all."
Cassie worked at the inn part-time for some petty cash. She was a master's student at the University of South Molton and studied computer engineering. They had met via a guy that Veronica had gotten close to hooking up but had realised had a girlfriend and was trying to cheat on her with Veronica. She had done some snooping around and found the girl's Instagram. She had dropped in the dreaded 'hey girl' text, and Cassie had asked to meet with her.
Veronica had taken an instant liking to Cassie. She used to have short black hair back then that complimented her high cheekbones. She had asked the guy to meet with her at the same time she had asked Veronica to come. It had been very messy. Cassie ended up punching the guy and dumbing her cocktail on him. Veronica had provided her with first aid, and that was how their friendship had started. Bloody knuckles and bloody Marys.
"I thought you didn't have a shift today?" Veronica asked, getting away from the desk half-afraid that Alisa would call her back.
"I didn't," Cassie explained. "But my class got cancelled, and I really want to buy that new sound system I have been eyeing for months, so I am pulling an extra shift."
Veronica watched with curious eyes as a girl walked past them, her face ashen and hands slightly shaking. She stared in the direction where she had come from: Martin's office. Then it clicked. They were holding interviews today for hiring some extra help for the upcoming wedding they were having at the inn. Poor girl.
"Can sense the dread and trepidation wafting from Martin's office," Cassie commented, putting on the waitress' costume. "I wonder how big the stick is?"
"What stick?"
"The stick up Martin's ass."
Veronica snickered and followed Cassie into the kitchen. "He's a perfectionist."
"Who?" Minho asked, stirring something in a giant pot.
"Martin," Veronica supplied, filling her cup with coffee. He was making pot roast. Her mouth watered at the smell.
"One of the interviewees left the inn crying," Minho said and shuddered. "He needs to start being nicer to people, or one of these days, there will be a crime thriller about a sadistic man who used to work at an inn."
"And when everyone reads that book," Cassie said, fixing the stray hair around her face. "They are going to agree that a little homicide never hurt anyone."
Veronica was about to answer, but Manny came in through the door and informed her that there was someone at the front desk asking for her.
"Who is it?" She asked.
"He won't say," Manny supplied, looking at her. "He doesn't look like someone who would come here."
They were almost at the front desk. "What do you -" The words died on Veronica's lips as her eyes landed on the man standing mere feet from her. It was a wonder she didn't drop the coffee cup from her hand.
"That's the one." She distantly heard Manny say, but Veronica didn't need him to tell her that.
She knew the guy waiting for her. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen him in years. His face brought back flashes of memories she had long tried to bury. Broken plates, slammed doors, blood dripping down her arm. The images came one after the other. Veronica took a deep breath, buried the dread that was rising up her throat, and took a couple of steps forward.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, trying to stop her voice from shaking.
Eddie looked the same. A white stubble coated his lower jaw, and he had more lines around his face, but he looked the same. "Ronnie!" He said, his voice booming so loudly that Veronica had to suppress her flinch.
People were beginning to turn and look at them. She walked forward and marched out of the inn, knowing that Eddie would follow. "That's some place you got there, Ronnie."
"What do you want?" She turned to look at him, crossing her arms.
Eddie smiled, showing his teeth. She took a proper look at him. He was wearing a striped white shirt that had a hole in its pocket and the same pants he had on when she last saw him. "I just came to check on you."
Veronica wanted to laugh at the lie. She felt a little delirious as if she had inhaled a lot of helium. "How did you get the address for this place?"
"Your mom."
Veronica took a deep breath, absorbing the weight of his words. She didn't want him to see how much effect it had on her. "She gave it to you?"
He shrugged. Which could mean a myriad of things when it came to Eddie getting what he wanted. Hot anger bubbled in her stomach. "What do you want, Eddie?" She bit out.
He stuffed his hands in his pocket and kicked the loose gravel. Veronica wanted to laugh. She knew why he was here. With him, there was always one reason.
"I am not giving you any money."
He looked up, and it was then that Veronica noticed the dark circles under his eyes. His cheeks looked sunken, and there was an ashy tone to his skin, his hand pushing his hair back shook with the effort. He needed money for drugs. Veronica wanted to scream.
"Look, Ronnie -"
"Stop calling me that." She hated it when he called her that. As a kid, the word usually meant that he was either high or drunk beyond his senses. Which never turned out well for her.
"I am not asking for much," he asked, his voice desperate. "Just a little something. To tide me over. I have something big coming up, and I will pay you back."
Veronica scoffed. "Eddie, you have had something big coming up all my life. Don't pull this shit with me. I am not giving you any money."
His face soured, eyes darkening. "You little bitch," he said, vehemently. "You think you are better than us because you work here. Because you have a little money. Do they know where you come from? Do you want me to march in and tell them exactly who you are?"
At one point in her life, his threats would have scared her. Veronica probably would have taken some cash out of her pocket and given it to him just to shut him up. She had been scared of him for so long that even now it was a reflex that she had to silence.
"I would have you kicked out before you even got a word out," Veronica shot back, suddenly bone-tired from the whole interaction. "This is my place of work, people listen to me here. The next time I see you lurking about I will ask the security to call the police."
The threat seemed to shut him up, his bravado going away. "Ron-Veronica, there's no need for that. I-"
Veronica shut him up. "No Eddie. Nothing more. I want you to leave."
He must have seen the finality on his face because he turned around and left. Veronica was proud of herself for carrying herself inside the inn and not collapsing on the pavement. Somehow she managed to survive till lunch where she excused herself and lied about meeting up with a friend and left the place.
Pulling out her phone she quickly typed a text that read: We need to meet, before hitting send and catching a bus to the city.
â¤ï¸
Her mom was wiping down tables when Veronica entered the establishment. The bell chimed overhead announcing her presence. The bus to Pelham had taken 30 minutes. Veronica had forgotten how the city smelled. Car exhaust, cigarette, and urine. Her mother had worked at the same diner for the past 15 years. She had countless memories of doing homework on the scratched-up sticky red tables. Her stomach knotted as nausea and nostalgia churned together inside her.
"Sit down," her mother called, not looking up. "I will get to you in a minute."
"Mom," Veronica called out, not moving from her spot. Helena stopped and looked up, her face going slack as her eyes landed on her daughter.
"What are you doing here?" Her mother asked.
But the words died on Veronica's lips. She hadn't seen her mother in two years and the woman standing before her was a ghost. She had lost so much weight, that her uniform hung from her frame. Her curly black hair, the only thing Veronica had inherited from her mother, was streaked with white and tied back in a slimy greasy bun.
"What are you doing here? Helena asked again, closing the distance between them.
"Did you get my text?" She asked, her voice heavy. Veronica couldn't stop looking at Helena, taking in every new wrinkle on her face.
Helena looked away. "I don't have your number."
Veronica gulped, scrunching up her nose to keep the tears at bay. "You don't have my number but you have no problem telling that piece-of-shit boyfriend of yours where I work?" Veronica knew she was being loud but she couldn't care less.
"Let's talk outside." Helena dragged her out of the diner. Veronica was breathing heavily, it took everything in her power not to break down right there. Her mom pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one.
"Eddie showed up?"
"Yes, Mother," she answered, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "And when I asked him about it he told me you told him."
Helena takes a long drag. "I didn't know he was going to show up."
Bullshit. "You did too," Veronica bit out. "You know him. You knew he was going to show up and ask me for money so he could stick a needle in his arm."
Her mother didn't even sound remorseful as she said, "Well, he was asking me for money and I had nothing and he kept pestering me about you and the money you send me monthly so I snapped and told him to ask you for it himself."
Veronica wanted to pull her hair out. All these years, her mother still didn't care. Veronica could very well have been invisible for how much her mother cared to see her.
"I don't understand," she said, blowing a puff of smoke in the air. "Why couldn't you give him some money? Just a little something. Now he will root around my purse, pocket my tips."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Veronica marched up to her mom so they were face to face. She was a little taller than Helena so her mother had to look up. "Why should I give him anything? It is my money. I hate Eddie, mom. I had a shitty life in that because of him" And you. "I didn't want to be around his drunk ass, so I ran away. I didn't like him coming to our house, high out his mind and start throwing shit around. So I moved out. And he's still here, following me."
Helena took a step back, eyes roaming over Veronica's body. "You are so dramatic. Yes, he gets drunk but he's around. Unlike your father, who never cared. He's more of a father to you than-"
Veronica saw red. She shook as she said, "Don't you finish that sentence. That man is not my father. He's vile and pathetic. He hit you." She pointed at herself. "He hit me. And you never did anything."
She turned around, heading back to the bus stop. "Oh, I am sorry Your Highness that you had a shit life with me. Having you around brought me no joy either. When things got rough you left me anyway! Just like your father!" Helena shouted but Veronica didn't turn back. She couldn't give her mother the satisfaction that her words still hurt even after all these years.
The rest of the day went by in a haze. Veronica didn't even notice that it was time to leave until Martin pointed it out. Her body ached, and there seemed to be a giant hole in the middle of her chest. She knew if she went home she would keep replaying the day over and over again in her head. Thinking about Eddie made her want to hit something. Thinking about her mom felt like a cataclysmic activity. If she dwelled on it any longer, she would come undone at her seams.
She didn't even realise she was at Mano's until the music hit her. She needed a drink. It was when she spotted his familiar face that the realization hit her. Chan worked here. Shit. How could she have forgotten that detail? She had just wanted to be close to a martini as soon as possible. Before she could backtrack, his eyes landed on her. He raised his hand in acknowledgement and waved her over. There was no going back now.
She found a spot in his vicinity. "Hey!"
"Hi," he greeted back. He looked genuinely happy to see her. "I didn't know you were coming around."
Veronica smiled. "I didn't know it either. I just needed a drink and Voila!"
"I am really glad you came by. What can I get you?" He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. His hair was pushed back and she could see a small metallic cross dangling from both his ears. She hadn't noticed the piercings before.
"A vodka martini with a twist, extra dry," she answered, looking around at the club. There were fewer people around given that it was a weekday. Most of the people dancing on the floor were elderly men trying to woo women in their 20s.
She watched Chan make her drink, the quick movement of his wrists, how deftly he added the vodka and vermouth in the shaker. Straining the liquid from the cocktail shaker into a chilled martini glass he placed a lemon slice on its rim he slid the drink to her. "Vodka martini with a twist, extra dry." Veronica took a sip, leaving a red stain on the glass. "That's really good, Chan."
He took a small bow of appreciation. "How was your day?"
A train wreck. She felt like a fortress whose walls were currently being bombarded. "Good," she replied. "Pretty uneventful. Martin only made one person cry, so it was a win."
He laughed but didn't look convinced. "Are you sure everything is okay?"
She didn't know if she could muster enough strength to put out a convincing lie. "Just a long day."
He stared at her a beat longer and Veronica could feel the weight of his gaze. If he still wasn't convinced, he didn't pry. Not for the first time in her life Veronica wondered why she couldn't make her mother care for her. She had spent seventeen years of her life begging her mother to love her. She had torn open her knees begging on the ground praying for her to wake up one day and realise that she had a daughter. Veronica had bled and bled in that house and all her mother ever did was sprinkle the ashes of her cigarettes in her open wounds. She was twenty-five now and she still felt like she was four hiding behind closed doors as Eddie and her mom trashed the whole house. She felt small.
"You know what's the best remedy for a shitty day?"
"What?" She looked up from her drink, her throat tight with emotion.
"Ice cream," Chan whispered and she had to laugh at the pure glee on his face.
"Let's get some, once you are done with your drink," he added. "My shift is over anyway."
"Oh," Veronica started, eating one of the olives from the drink, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice. "It's okay. You must be tired and I didn't have a shitty day. Just a long one. Talking aeons here."
"Well," he said, getting out from behind the counter and taking a seat next to her. "I want ice cream and no one likes eating ice cream alone. So, will you come with me or not." He offered his hand out to her expectantly.
Chan's eyes on her were so earnest that Veronica's protests died on her lips. An ice cream sounded great. Plus, this would keep her out of her head for a little while longer. She had plenty of time to dissociate later in the night.
"Sure," she said, draining the remaining of her drink and taking his hand. "Let's go."