Remembering Westland

Jacob hadn’t wanted a lot out of life—maybe a place to call his own, a nice family and a little time to make art. He certainly wasn’t one of those people with drive and ambition, destined for big things. He was okay with a small life, as long as it was a happy one, but apparently, even that was too much to ask.

He was forty-three now, and still hadn’t really settled in anywhere. He changed apartments each time another job fell through, and he did so on his own. One by one he had watched every relationship he had go sour and the small dreams he was after collapse in on themselves. Now, after twenty-five miserable years on his own, he was doing the one thing he had always sworn to himself he would never do—he was going back to stay with his parents.

He was embarrassed as he drove into the old town. There was no one in the world with dreams small enough for Westland, not even Jacob himself. It had once been a farming town, full of men taming wild land to their own advantage, but a few years of drought and recession had hit the town hard. Not many people remained, and even fewer were happy to be there. The houses were run-down and many were abandoned. They were cheap at least, which was enough to trap what little population they still had. If you could survive the featureless landscape of the town, you could at least do so cheaply, and most of the people left in town simply didn’t have the money for anywhere else. Now, Jacob thought, that probably included him.

He had mostly come to terms with moving back in with his parents, but it still stung his ego enough that he wasn’t ready to go straight there. Westland had exactly one bar, and he easily remembered where it was. He had spent half his time in high school handing around the place, flashing a fake ID that none of the bartenders bother to check. He headed there now, hoping he had enough money left to buy a couple of drinks at least.

The bar was exactly as he remembered it, which somehow made him feel worse. If he thought back to the last time he was in this bar and compared it to now, all it did was remind him of the ways in which things had gone so wrong. He almost turned his back, but he didn’t think he could go home sober. He was sure his dad had a whole lecture planned about the merits of farming as a career.

“I’ll take whatever’s cheap,” he said, collapsing on the first stool with a sigh. Everything in the place was cheap, but it was a popular request so he wasn’t questioned. The bartender slid a single shot glass his way. The candid liquid lightly rose and fell from side to side for a moment and reflected the dull humming lights from the bar back at Jacob, who couldn’t bring his eyes to look anywhere else. It felt as though the weight of the world took a taunting perch atop his shoulders and he had no choice but to succumb to it’s will.

“What is this stuff?” he asked the bartender without looking up.

“You don’t want to know.”

Jacob nodded and took the shot. It burned his throat as it went down, and he nearly coughed in surprise. He’d had alcohol plenty of times, but not like this. The alcohol content wasn’t so much a problem as the acrid flavor that invaded his nose and mouth. He shook his head to try and clear it, the after taste was bitter like vinegar. Jacob finally looked up at the bartender for the first time. He had been meaning to ask for another drink, but his words caught in his throat. He knew the girl behind the counter.

“Maddie?” he asked, surprised to see her in an apron. Really he was just surprised to see her at all.

She shot a forced smile at him. “Actually, I go by Madison now.”

“Right,” Jacob repeated. “Madison. It’s good to see you.”

“I guess,” Madison said, reaching behind her and pouring him another drink. “This isn’t exactly the scenario I would have preferred if I was going to see you again.”

“Looking for a little more drama?” Jacob asked, swallowing down the next shot with a grimace.

“Looking for a little more success,” Madison admitted. “Hard to throw a successful life in your ex-boyfriend’s face if you haven’t got a successful life to brag about.”

“If it makes you feel better, I haven’t got a lot of success going on either,” Jacob admitted.

“You walked into a bar and asked for something cheap. I kind of figured,” Madison said.

“I think I’d be a bit embarrassed if it hadn’t been so long,” he admitted. “What’s it been, twenty-five years since high school?”

“Twenty-seven since our last date,” Madison said. “We broke up sophomore year.”

“Right,” Jacob nodded. “I forgot about that.”

He wished he could say he remembered that day clear as ice, but he really barely remembered it at all. He thought there had been something to do with a Valentine’s day dance and some comments she had made about a football player. It all seemed so high-school, looking back.

He looked up to comment on that to Madison, but she had already moved on. She was serving the only other customers in the bar, two teens who were giggling over their shots and couldn’t possibly be overage. Jacob wondered if he and Madison had ever looked like those two kids, hands all over each other as they found relief from the dull town in each other’s arms. He couldn’t remember if they had ever really kissed.

As soon as Madison was done with the teenagers, she returned to Jacob. She poured him another shot that he wasn’t even sure he could afford, but he didn’t drink it yet. He rubbed his thumb along the smeared edge of the shot glass and looked back up at Madison. He felt like he should say something more, continue their conversation, but it had been so long since they last talked that he had no idea what to say.

“So are you in town long?” she asked, seemingly thinking the same thing. “Or just dropping in for a while?”

Jacob really didn’t want to admit his living situation, but there was a genuine curiosity in Madison’s eyes. He figured he would have to get comfortable telling people at some point, and he could always avoid the bar later if she was cruel about it.

“Hopefully I’ll be out of here soon,” he said. “I ran out of options and money, so I’m actually coming back to live with my parents for a while.”

Madison grimaced, but she didn’t seem to be mocking him. She pushed a stray hair out of her face. “That sounds really rough. I know you fought for years to get out of this place.”

“I guess you can only fight for so long,” Jacob said, finally drinking the shot she had poured. He looked up at her. “That’s probably all I can afford.”

“I’d offer you some on the house, but the bar can’t afford that, and neither can I,” Madison said.

“It’s fine,” Jacob said. He hadn’t been looking for a free drink, he just really couldn’t blow more money here. “I just needed enough liquid courage to get me through my dad’s lecture.”

“Well you were always a lightweight. Three will probably be enough.”

Jacob smiled, and he found that he wanted her to stay and talk a little longer. She was sweet and understanding, and something about her made him long to stay close to her. He couldn’t even think of a reason why, but he wanted to keep talking to her.

“I’ve laid my cards out on the table and they aren’t very good,” he pointed out. “Now’s your chance to do that bragging you were talking about. You don’t even need a lot of success to throw it in my face.”

Madison smiled and shook her head. “Still not a lot to throw at you. I’m not living with my parents, but I am still living in Westland, which is practically the same thing. I think I told you in high school that I wanted to be a stock-broker, and as you can see, that didn’t work out.”

“Maybe not,” Jacob said. “You’ve still got a shot at it though. I think most stock-brokers are pretty ancient.”

“What did you say about only being able to fight for so long?” Madison said. “I think I’m a little too old to run off chasing a pipe dream.”

Jacob would have said the same thing in her position, but it felt bad to hear her give up like that. It made the world feel just a little darker than it had before and a little more unforgiving.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, shaking his head.

Madison returned to the teenagers and gave them a bit more to drink. They were only getting louder with every glass they poured them, and a normal bar probably would have cut them off by then. This one simply didn’t have the money to refuse a paying customer, something that Jacob himself had taken advantage of quite a bit in his youth.

“You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends left in town,” Madison admitted when she came back. “Westland is the kind of place you move away from, so everyone I used to know is pretty scattered. If you wanted to go get coffee or something I’d be down for that.”

“Does Westland even have a coffee shop?”

“Oh, yeah, they built it like ten years ago. The coffee is horrible, but they’ll let you hang around for as long as you want. Really friendly staff,” Madison said.

Jacob smiled. “That sounds great. If I managed to survive my dad’s lecture, I’ll be there.”

They exchanged phone numbers and a couple more hours of pleasant conversation. Jacob was beginning to wonder how he could have forgotten her. She was sweet, and honest and genuine. He didn’t know whether their plan to get coffee was meant to be a date, but the more he talked to her, the more he hoped that it was. Madison could be the first good thing to happen to him in years.

“I should probably be heading out,” he said, staggering to his feet.

“Won’t make my dad any happier if I’m late.”

“Keys,” Madison said without explanation.

“What?”

“Give me your keys,” she said. “I’m not going to let you drive.”

“I had a couple of drinks a few hours ago,” he said. “I’m not even tipsy anymore, and even if I was, there’s no one else on the road.”

“You make good conversation,” Madison said. “I’m not going to let you throw that away by driving out of here.”

Jacob groaned, but he handed off the keys. It would be a long walk on his own in the dark, but Madison was probably right. He probably should not be behind the wheel.

“I can give you a ride if you can wait a bit,” Madison offered. “Bar’s about to close, so all I’ve really got to do is get those kids out of here, then I’ll be free.”

“That sounds great,” Jacob said, and he meant it.

All in all, it took Madison about an hour to close up the bar and get the kids on their way home. She took their keys too, though only one of them really had a car. She waited until there was someone there to pick them up before she was ready to go.

“Your parents still on that old house by the river?” Madison asked him, getting into the driver’s seat of his car.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his head against the headrest. “Nothing

much ever changes in this town.”

They drove down the old road, Jacob’s car thrown around by every bump. It was too dark out to see much of anything, and the farmlands passed in a blur outside of the window. There was house to break things up every once in a while, but they were nothing more than dark blurs against an indistinct background.

“Do you remember what it was like when we were dating?” Madison asked. It was the one thing they hadn’t really talked about in the bar. They had commiserated over failures in life and whined about the dreary town, but they had not talked about the one experience they had truly shared: high school.

“Not really,” Jacob admitted. “I remember you yelling at me about the color of my tie, then shoving a rose into my hand. I still have a mark where the thorn pricked me.”

Madison grimaced. “I forgot about that.”

Jacob felt bad for bringing it up. “I’m sure there are a lot nicer things I could remember.”

“Yeah,” Madison said. There was a bit of a lull, then she continued. “Do you know what I remember most? I was sitting in the cafeteria, and you came in with this big goofy smile on your face. You had bought these really cheesy heart shaped chocolates from some convenience store, and you couldn’t wait to see my reaction to them.”

“I don’t remember that,” Jacob admitted.

“I figured you wouldn’t. I didn’t even really react to the chocolate—I didn’t think it was a big deal. I guess it wasn’t, but you were so enthusiastic that I feel a little bad for not giving you a little bit more.”

The car stopped then and Jacob recognized the house he had grown up in. He didn’t want to go back. if it was up to him, he would stay here with Madison and laugh about the past forever. Neither of them moved yet. They weren’t ready.

“You know, I always thought we would be dating again by senior year,” Madison said, filling the silence. “The way we broke up was so stupid, and I felt like we would get another chance at it before we graduated.”

“I guess we never did,” Jacob said.

“Not before graduation,” Madison said.

It took Jacob a moment to realize the gravity of her words and he looked over at her. There was twinkle in her eyes and just enough moonlight was seeping in through the window to light her from behind, like his own personal angel. He found himself leaning across the seat towards her and she noticed that she was doing the same. When their lips met, it was as if a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. All his time struggling out in the world, all his failures, everything he resented about his life had led him here, back to Madison. They pulled away for a moment and Madison smiled at him.

“I look forward to that coffee date,” she said, opening the door.

Jacob smiled, and when he walked up to the front door of his parent’s house, he wasn’t feeling so lost anymore. In the span of a kiss, Westland had started to feel a lot bigger and a lot more interesting.