Sometimes Goodbye is a second chance

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Metal_Baby_Lulu, Jul 13, 2015.

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    There is nothing like boarding the last plane home. For first sergeant Taryn Roberts it meant even more. It had been sixteen months since she had last seen Nate, her husband of three years. As far as she knew his deployment had ended two weeks ago.
    "Thinking about your hubs T?"

    Taryn smiled and looked behind her seat at another soldier in her company, Valerie. "Yeah, I am."

    "I would too, them pics you showed us helped a lot of us get through the desert." The girls both laughed. Taryn shook her head. Her husband was quite good looking and whenever she'd receive a letter with another picture, she was jumped by the other ladies wanting to sneak a peek.

    "I've missed him."
    "He's probably going to be at the airtport waiting for you with all sorts of gushy lovey stuff in his butt naked ass self."

    Taryn laughed aloud. "What? A girl can dream right?" Valerie added through her giggles. When the plane landed five hours later in Dallas the girls reached for their duffel bags and walked out. All around Taryn women and men were greeted with loving arms, balloons, flowers, kisses... it all made the fact that no one was there for Taryn all the worse. Even Valerie was met up by her family. Val looked over and gave Taryn a weird look then walked over.

    "Well maybe he has a surprise for you at home? Come on, we'll take you home." Valerie said. Taryn tried to refuse the help but Valerie wasn't having it. Valerie waved at Taryn as they dropped her off outside her beautiful house. Nate's car was in the driveway, so he must be home. Why hadn't he picked her up? Taryn unlocked the door and walked inside. There was music playing, some romantic number. Taryn smiled agreeting that maybe he did have a surprise waiting for her.

    Taryn walked into their bedroom, "Hey, baby." she said. What her eyes took in then she wished she could have permanently deleted. Her duffel bag hit the floor as her husband sat up shock in his eyes as well as in Krystal's, her sister.

    "Taryn!" they said simultaneously. Taryn took two steps back, shaking her head. Her heart had disintegrated before the first blink of her eyes. "What are you doing here?" Krystal asked. From heartbreak to hatred her eyes flashed deadly.

    "What the fuck do you mean what am I doing here? This is my house! I don't even have to ask what you're doing here!" Taryn shouted. Krystal hugged the blanket around her and shrunk into Nate.

    "T, we didn't mean for this to happen, it just did." Nate spoke. Taryn looked at him and shook her head in awe.

    "Please, enlighten me, tell me what you did mean to happen?"

    "Taryn please don't be mad. I picked him up at the airport when he got back. We came back here, I made him dinner, we hung out.... one thing led to another. I love him Taryn, I kind of always have." Krystal said. Nate looked over at her in horror just as Taryn closed the space and punched her sister right in the face the sound of her nose breaking brought Taryn more pleasure than it should have. Krystal cried out and held her nose as the blood began to run. Nate jumped out of bed

    "Taryn are you crazy!" he yelled yanking on his underwear and running to grab a towel for Krystal. "You need to leave." he said as he came back, holding a towel to his new lover's nose. Taryn went cold. There was no other feeling but betrayal and the low burn that ached in her chest. She looked at her sister, their eyes locking. One with such hatred, one with fear. She then looked at her husband. There was such a mix of emotions in his, but overall Taryn knew it was over. What happened next was something straight out of a madea movie. Taryn unlocked her safe in her closet and pulled her gun out, loading the clip quickly. Krystal began to cry as she saw her sister walk out of the bathroom with a .22 caliber pistol. Taryn went on a rampage. She destroyed everything in the house. The tv's, computers... anything of value, including Nate's precious car. She was glad they lived on so much land that no one would hear the gun shots.

    Krystal shouted. "Call the cops!"

    Nate shook his head. He knew how it would look when the military police got involved. He would take the repurcussions of his actions and let Taryn leave without any more trouble. Once Taryn was done she ripped all the pictures of their wedding off the wall, threw them all in the metal trash can in the kitchen, doused it with lighter fluid and lit a match. The fire alarm began blaring as Taryn walked back into the bedroom. Krystal and Nate both froze as Taryn eyed them, gun still in hand. She knelt down grabbing her duffel bag and disappeared. That was the last they would ever hear from her.

    A week later Taryn walked into a bar in her new home town. It was in the middle of downtown and looked like it was frequented by many. She had her blonde hair pulled into a pony tail and wore a white button down with kahki shorts. She sat at the counter and waited. Her head was throbbing. Nights without sleep had aided in settling a pretty little migraine behind her orbits. Her eyes were withdrawn, staring at the bowl of peanuts infront of her.​
    #1 Metal_Baby_Lulu, Jul 13, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Sep 14, 2015
  2. Clark had been working his bar since college. Somehow a business management degree and a pile of student loans had amounted to it. He shook his head, black hair a mess. He had stubble on his chin and cheeks, marking a long week of working. He was serving customers at the far end of the bar when a blonde sat down in front of him. She appeared haggard, done in and he could only give a small smile of pity. He saw it too often these days.

    Everyone had problems. Some took to gambling, some to drugs, and luckily for his business a lot to drinking. "What can I do you for?" He asked, leaning forward slightly. He ignored his employee's headshakes, knowing they were going to laugh at him for his grammar. He was educated...but not deaf.
  3. "Gin and tonic please." Taryn said. She leaned on her bar stool to pull some money from her back pocket. She placed a twenty on the bar, figuring it would give her two or three good drinks before walking to the apartment she had yet to unpack. She'd receive some news within the next few hours about job placement at the base. The real reason she was off drinking was because she was waiting for the text from her lawyer who was currenty fighting her battle against her ass hole soon to be ex husband. The fucker had the balls to cheat on her with her own sister and now he was trying to claim her inheritance from when her father had died. She coudln't stand the thought of seeing them in court so her lawyer had gone ahead without her.

    Her blue eyes remained glued to the glass peanut bowl. She was damn glad it wasn't in the shape of a heart or she might lose her cool and crash the thing against the ground. Everything seemed to set her off now a days. She spoke to no one. Her phone rang so many times a day but not a single call was answered except for the lawyer or her commanding officer. This bartender was the first to hear her voice in a week outside of the other two.
  4. Clark set the drink in front of her, noticing how the others around her were on edge. It made him suspicious but he ignored the feeling. He took the twenty, sliding seventeen dollars back to her.

    Adam came over, warily eying the woman. "Hey boss, Tasha called in sick so we need someone to cover her shift."

    Clark sighed, frustrated. The flu was rapidly spreading through his bartenders and causing a few nights of no sleep. "Okay. I'll cover if you do me a favor and do the inventory so I can come in and order in the morning." Adam nodded and walked away, leaving Clark to stand and pour drinks out for his regulars.
  5. Taryn took the glass. She downed the eight ounces in one smooth gulp. The lime-y liquid burned the whole way down. She gave a wry smirk, this burn was nothing compared to the ache that had laid claim within her ribs. She held the glass with tonic ice to her forehead. Her eyes flitted shut, the cool felt great against her heated forehead. The pounding seemed to drill the back of her eye balls. She knew a good sleep would remove the pain but she hated the nightmares. If she wasn't dreaming about gunshots, explosions and insurgents she was dreaming about her sister and Nate.

    She pulled her iPhone out of her pocket and stared at it on the counter. Nothing yet. Her watch read military time and she focused on it. It should be done by now... what had happened? Had he lost the case and hadn't called yet cause he didn't want to give the broken down soldier some more bad news? She groaned, why couldn't things just go according to plan for once. A message flitted across the screen of her phone.

    It's going to be another week or so Sgt. Roberts. We'll contact you once we receive an opening. God bless.

    Taryn's fingers tightened around the glass and she pinched the bridge of her nose. An idea came to mind. Being in the apartment was the worse for her. Maybe this bar was hiring. She waited for the man to walk by before clearing her throat.

    "Are you hiring? I overheard you're short." She spoke her own voice sounding foreign to her.
  6. Clark stopped short, eying the woman. "I did just have someone quit and I am short handed..." He frowned, staring her down for a moment. "I have a few rules for my bartenders. First don't drink on the job. Second is we look out for each other." He took her glass, filling it up again and adding some ice. "Do you have another job?"

    Adam was back at his shoulder, trying desperately to get his attention but Clark merely stared at her, hazel eyes drilling into her hoping to see her soul.
  7. Taryn eyed the drink. "If you need me tonight..." she said interrupting herself by downing the glass. "That was my last. I won't drink on the job and two won't impair my judgement in the least. I'm new in town. No job yet. Waiting on the CO to place me in the base. They've been running around for over a week and still nothing. They're saying they need more time. I need something to keep me busy in the mean time and if I'm working here, I'm not drinking here. So it's a plus both ways." She extended her hand and waited for him to shake it.

    "I'm Taryn." she introduced herself. She hoped he wouldn't ask a million questions, her name was unique, most people wondered if there was meaning or where her parents had come up with it. It was more than she wanted to divulge to anyone.
  8. Clark extended his hand and shook hers firmly. "Names Clark. Chances are you'll be waiting on that CO for longer than a week." He smirked as if he knew something. "Military brat turned bar owner." He sized her up for a moment and sighed. "Go get cleaned up," he tossed her a clean blouse with "the daily shot" written across it before turning towards Adam.

    He took the inventory sheet and hung it up on the wall.
  9. Taryn cocked her head to the side. She didn't give him a smile or a smirk but merely nodded her head. It was interesting to meet another military brat. She was military brat turned soldier. She grabbed the tee shirt and shook her head.

    "You'd get more business if girs dressed sexy." she muttered and moved to the bathroom to change her shirt. She looked at hersef in the mirror. The tee with read the daily shot. Her kahki shorts showcased her long tanned legs and she wore converse. A lot easier of a uniform to put on than her usual. She walked back out towards the bar. "And chances of my CO actually getting me a position dwindle daily. The military pushes for active duty, those who just returned from their third deployment are not their priority." Taryn added as she walked behind the bar. She looked at what would be her station. She had bartended back in college and looking the way she did, she didn't hurt for no clients. Working a bar would be good for her, it would keep her from drinking as much as she had been.
  10. Clark snorted. "I don't like my girls dressing that way for a reason. I don't like the men thinking of them as anything less than human." He looked at her with appreciation before refilling the bowls of peanuts. His head suddenly jerked up with the sound of glass shattering and he growled. Damnit, who let Paul drink so much?" In one motion he was over the bar and storming towards a burly marine.

    The large guy was lifting a bar stool over his head and about to bring it down before Clark stepped forward and grabbed it. "'s time for you to go home..."
  11. Taryn eyed the commotion from where she stood. She grabbed a fresh bar rag and stuffed one end into her back pocket. She walked over to where the man named Paul was. She eyed his uniform and the silver bar.

    "First lieutenant, don't you reckon it's time to head out? How about we call you a cab?" she said pulling the rag out of her back pocket and swinging it over her shoulder. She dialed the cab line she had been using. She had yet to get a vehicle. She wanted to wait till after the divorce before spending any large sums due to the divorce statutes. Once one has files neither party is allowed to create more debt since all assets are marital property. Minus of course the only reason they were still in court, her inheritance. Her father was a lieutenant general in the marines, one reason she knew Paul was a first leutenant. Cancer had claimed her old man but he had left behind a hefty sum. Being his only child, Taryn would inherit it all. Of course Nate was a rat bastard and wanted to lay claim to something that had nothing to do with him.
  12. Paul staggered, glancing at her with eyes fuzzy from too much liquor. Clark draped his arm over his shoulder as Paul staggered. "Come on bud. I'll get you in a cab." He shuffled towards the front door, muscles rippling as he half carried the man towards the door. "Second time this week Paul...I might need to start charging you more." Both men chuckled.

    As soon as Paul was settled, Clark came back into the bar. Adam handed him the dust pan and Clark moved to the shattered glass. He bent down, taking care of it easily before heading back behind the bar.
  13. Taryn had already wiped down the table to keep the alcohol from creating a sticky glaze. She was currently standing behind the counter tending to two customers. Some pretty young girls. They were giggling and unnerving Taryn.

    "Can I see some ID?" Taryn asked as she wiped the counter in front of the two girls. Their smiles dissapeared.

    "Oh come on, we're gonna pay just pour us some beer." One of them called out pulling money out of her bra. Taryn rose an eye brow and shook her head.

    "sorry no fly zone here ladies, ID or nothing."

    The other girl slammed her hand down on the counter. "Listen, just cause you're old and unhappy doesn't mean you can crush on younger girls. You're here to work, so work." she yelled throwing some money at Taryn.

    Taryn's fingers had dug into the counter when the girl had slammed her hand down. her heart had begun to race and she had even jumped. She hadn't realized it but loud noises, loud voices... anything would get her anxiety to the point where she wanted to run away. She hadn't believed she could suffer from PTSD but things were looking more real as the days slowly drifted by.
  14. Clark swooped in when he heard the raised voices. He gently sidled up beside Taryn and stared at the girls. "You have two options. Leave quietly and on your own, or I call the cops."

    Adam hissed down the bar, knowing Clarks friendly smile was masking his anger. He had always hated his employees being mistreated.

    Clark looked at Taryn, taking the money from in front of her and handing it back to the girls. "The only thing I hate more than underage drinking in my bar is girls that torment my staff." His gaze turned icy and he leaned forward. He was completely different with the girls than he was with Paul just a moment ago.
  15. The girls hurriedly rushed out the door whining about the bar and that they would never come here again. Taryn swallowed the lump in her throat. She removed her hands from the counter, stretching her fingers out and cracking them to ease the tension that had made them so rigid moments earlier. She reached for the rag and wiped at the already clean counter. The night was early, she knew that as the sun hid beneath the earth more people would fill the bar.

    She kept hersef busy, cleaning, organizing and preparing. At a quarter after nine was the last she'd seen the bar lull and empty. After that there was no stopping the commotion. She focused on each of her customers. When the tips had overflown her back pockets she grabbed for an empty pickle jar, rinsing out she stuck it behind her station, letting patrons drop their tips into it as they pleased. Through all the commotion she found herself liking being busy. It was less time she focused on her broken heart.
  16. Clark had diffused the situation but had to take a break. He walked around and set things in order before the major rush. Soon his patrons were filling th bar stools, and greeting him like they would an old friend.

    Adam was frantically pouring shots while Clark was acting as if it was no busier than earlier. Soon his mason jar was full of tips and he had served more than Adam had managed. "Adam, take a break." Clark called, moving the young man out of the way and working both stations at once. It was finally around two that things started to slow down to the late night crew. Adam had gone home, Clark giving him half of his own tips. He looked over at Taryn, glad to see she had pulled more than her fair share of work. He moved over to her station, smiling softly. "You can go home if you want. I close at three..."
  17. Taryn looked around and shrugged. "I don't mind helping you close." she said cleaning up around her station. Things had slowed down and she looked at her watch. It was ten till three and time for last call. She figured Clark would do the honors, it was afterall his bar. She looked over at the two clients that had been sitting at her station most of the night. The two were obviously in love. Taking pictures, drinking to each other. It made her stomach churn. He tapped the counter signaling one last drink for the two. Taryn grabbed two beers from the cooler, twirling them in her hands and placing them in front of the couple, using the bottle opener swiftly to open them. The man handed her a fifty and Taryn dropped it into the tip jar that was nearly overflowing.

    "You can use it towards the bar. Any repairs or anything, I don't want any tips." Taryn said as she washed down the now empty cooler for close.
  18. Clark had gone around to his regular customers, making sure that each got home safely. He then wiped down all the tables, stacking chairs on them and bar stools on the bar. He looked up at Taryn, a smile crossing his lips. "Take it. I don't need anything." He grunted, heading to the small janitors closet for a mop and bucket. "Honestly all I want it to go home and catch two uninterrupted hours of sleep before I have to be back here." He turned on the radio, letting it play while he moved around the room with the mop.

    For a business owner he was very fit. Lean and with muscles rippling under the shirt. "Be back tomorrow at ten. I'm making Tasha stay home. Although she might follow Nick and just quit. Those two always were inseparable..." He kept mumbling, numbers and schedules flitting through his head.
  19. Taryn finished cleaning out all the coolers and hosing out the entire stations behind the counter. When she was done she pulled the tee shirt off, her button down and tee now in hand shestood in her tank top and shorts. all that was left was the mopping and closing up shop.

    She nodded at his comment and head out the door. Her apartment was ten or so blocks away. She shoved her hands into her pockets and head in that direction. Sleep... it had eluded her since coming back from Afghanistan. She pushed ear phones into her ears and hit play as she kept walking to the tunes of classic rock.
  20. Clark counted down the drawer, getting a deposit ready. He had to get paycheck ready as well as be up here at eight for his next shipment of supplies. Part of the bar was scheduled to be turned into a game room to attract a new crowd of gamers. By all his estimates it would increase profits.

    He finally finished closing a half hour after three and sighed. There would be a small window for sleep for him tonight. Luckily for him, his office had a sofa bed in it for nights like these as well as three or four extra pairs of clothes. He dragged his way into his office and collapsed on the bed, sleeping roughly.
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