The Unlikely Rescuer

Paige Waters scrubbed up another beer spill, watching with a half smile as another pleased, drunk customer shuffled away into a cool, starry evening. A nice breeze ruffled her hair as Paige leaned back, settling her hands on her hips. Things were finally slowing down, with only a few men and women left drinking in gentle solitude. With only an hour until nightfall, everybody would be gone soon. They should be, anyway.

She breathed deeply, salty air filling her lungs. The beach was always nicer when it wasn’t pounded down by flip-flopped feet and overwhelmed by flailing, colorfully clothed bodies. It gave her a sense of peace she could only find here, with sand between her toes and seafoam tickling her ankles.

Some days, it was even enough to bury that she, unlike her faithful customers, wasn’t going home. She wasn’t going anywhere. Beachside Barrel, a little tiki bar in which dreams were drowned in drinks, was Paige’s home. It had served her well for a few years now, and seeing as her little sphere of life didn’t go very far beyond it, she didn’t need more.

Besides, it was a good distraction. And today, Paige needed one.

She glanced downward, gaze falling upon her lighted phone screen. The message displayed on it made her stomach drop. However, as if on cue, Aaron cozied up beside her, draping his bronze arm over her shoulder. His curly, blond hair brushed his dark eyes, and he carelessly swatted it away. “You okay?” he asked with a grin. Though he sounded like he cared, he didn’t really. He wasn’t one for speeches, and neither was Paige. It made their friendship an easy one, if not shallow.

“Yeah, fine,” she answered, pulling away. She jammed her phone into her apron. “Who’s left for you?”

Aaron began ticking off his fingers. “Henry, Martha—our usuals,” he remarked. Suddenly, his eyes brightened. “Oh, did you see Gavin’s back?”

“You’re kidding.”

He grinned. “I figured he wouldn’t come anymore because of his wife. Guess paradise isn’t really all it’s worth.”

She nudged his arm. “Or maybe you just like getting his tips and now he feels guilty.”

He feigned anger. “Here I am wondering why I ever became your friend.”

Paige rolled her eyes before sliding another vodka to Betty, an older woman who showed up once a week and certainly drank enough to hold her over. She was glassy-eyed now and clumsily reached for her glass.

“Do you have a ride home?” Paige asked gently.

Betty jerked her head. “I’ll walk,” she murmured.

Paige frowned. Too many of her customers “walked” and only ever made it into an alleyway. Considering how far off the touristy path Beachside Barrel was, getting lost in a dark, cold night was incredibly easy. Paige had even done it herself, in a drink-induced fog, wandering around searching for purpose. She remembered falling down, sand caking her legs, reeds curling around her arms, crying until she could barely breathe.

It’s your father again …

“Hey, Aaron?” she called, voice cracking a little. He looked up from wiping down another empty seating area. “When everybody’s gone, I’ll close up.”

He grimaced. “Look sleepy, do I?”

“No, but if you’re ever going to bring a lady friend down here, you can’t be living from a bar. You deserve it, anyway.”

A scoff reached Paige’s ears. “Unlike you, my life doesn’t revolve around my work friends,” he quipped. “And if anyone should be getting sleep, it’s you. A little birdie informed me you never came home yesterday.”

Paige froze. Though Aaron’s gaze was playful, it also held a deeper hardness. Did he already know? If she never confided in him, would he still know? Or maybe, as usual, he didn’t care. It wasn’t as if he’d ever been affected by her family … only by her running away.

She quickly looked away, disguising her fear by adjusting a few chairs far away from where Aaron worked. “Look, I’m fine. Everybody has bad days.”

“Only when I can’t make them better,” Aaron joked.

Good, Paige thought with relief. If Aaron was joking, maybe he wouldn’t keep dwelling on why Paige couldn’t stop staring at her phone—on why she probably wouldn’t be going home tonight either …

A few more customers left. Beachside Barrel was officially empty, and so long as nobody else came wandering in, Paige would consider it officially closed.

“You should go, Aaron,” she offered kindly, giving him a small smile. “We can decide whether I’m deserving of a nap some other day.”

He groaned. “And have you wander around here by yourself? Though it may surprise you, I’m a good friend, and you won’t be drinking yourself into delirium alone.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Wow, you’re such an angel.”

Though Aaron opened his mouth, he didn’t speak. Instead, Beachside Barrel’s door swung open. A bell clanged noisily above it. Someone huffed—a familiar, low, grumbling sound that made Paige’s blood run cold.

No, she mouthed. Aaron’s lips pulled into a smile. “Maybe I will go home.”

Paige could see her now: Bab. Just Bab; she’d never offered any surname in however many times Beachside Barrel had provided her with a drink. As Bab waddled in, her short, fleshy limbs rolling with each step, her features pulled into a pleased—although jagged—expression. She looked around, as if searching for someone. Paige wheeled around to avoid Bab’s gaze.

Bab was a … character. An older woman with frizzy, blonde hair and a jiggling, mole-riddled face, she wasn’t exactly who Paige envisioned having a nice dinner with. She guessed drinks really suited her better.

Still, as rough and rugged as Bab seemed—with her dirt-stained cheeks and faded, khaki coveralls—she was painfully friendly. Already, Paige glimpsed her eagerly sliding onto a stool and waving to Aaron for far longer than necessary.

He quickly procured her usual drink—a cold beer—and placed it down before her. Aaron offered her a thin smile. “Here you go, Bab.”

She leaned forward, eyes bright. “Thanks, Aaron,” she remarked in her gruff voice. “How are you doing? My day’s been awful. Ninety degree weather, working all day, sweating through my clothes. It’s good to be here, huh?” She chuckled dryly.

His face wrinkled with confusion. He moved away. “Um … I’m sorry, Bab.”

“Yeah, it’s rough,” Bab admitted candidly. “It pays, though, and that’s always good. I was telling another customer a few days ago about how I want a raise—or maybe it was Paige.” Bab furrowed her brows, forming a deep crease in her forehead.

Aaron’s gaze found Paige, and he gave her a wide, pleading look. “You know,” Aaron sighed, “maybe it was Amy. I saw you with her yesterday—”

“Where is Paige?” Bab asked, leaning forward. She took a long sip of her beer.

Paige backed away. If only somebody else were here—maybe she could ask Gavin about his wife, or joke around with Henry. Anybody would be better than Bab. She’d always taken a strange fascination with Paige, as if only she could make Bab’s day brighter. Serving her felt like hurling a noose over Paige’s own head, and it was a tight one.

No, she mouthed when Aaron moved toward her. “Oh, Paige is over here,” he announced. Bab’s lips curled into a grin.

“That’s good,” Bab remarked as Aaron’s fingers locked on Paige’s arm. “I’ve been meaning to tell her about Carey.”

“Aaron, please,” she begged.

He grinned, ignoring her as he yanked her away. “Yeah, she’s been dying to know more about Carey.”

Paige jabbed her fingernails into Aaron’s forearm. “You know, I’ve changed my mind,” she hissed. “You’re closing.”

Aaron’s eyes flashed with a playful warning. “A promise is a promise,” he answered. “You can hang with lovely Bab and I’ll go home and take a nice, long nap—”

“Rescue me, you brute,” she demanded.

“Last I checked, I wasn’t a prince, and you’re certainly not a damsel in distress.”

Paige groaned. “You’re horrible.”

“Thanks, it’s called friendship.”

She was near Bab now, and her friend smiled wide. “Paige,” she called warmly. Begrudgingly, Paige wandered over. Bab leaned across the bar counter and wrapped her meaty arms around Paige. She smelled of beer and sweat, and Paige swore she felt dirt clinging to Bab’s fingernails.

Play nice, she commanded herself. You’ve only got an hour.

Bab released her. “How’s it going?” she asked dryly.

“I mean, it’s getting better,” Bab answered with a shrug. “Carey still says I’m gonna get fired”—

“Oh, really?”

—“and I just don’t know how to respond, y’know? I could take it up with Mr. Jones … but maybe that would make it worse.” She paused, and Paige inched away. “Do you know, Paige?”

“Huh?”

“You’re so funny and likeable … so self-assured,” Bab answered warmly, eyes alight with admiration. “You have any advice?”

Paige frowned. How could Bab see assurance in her when her world was crumbling? It took all of her strength not to glance down at her phone now—not to stare at her glowing, evil screen with that message. Even now, it burned in her brain, condemning her.

It’s your father again … He’s been sick. Really sick. And I know you don’t want to see him—don’t want to be home—but he needs you. He wouldn’t say it himself, but he does, honey. Please, would you—

“It’s okay,” Bab admitted, her voice demanding Paige’s focus. “You’re busy—you have your own job. It’s just … you’re my friend, right? And people don’t really like me very much, and that’s okay, I guess, but if you can’t help me, then who can?” Her features fell with sadness, or maybe she was just searching for pity.

Paige looked away, stifling an internal groan. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Bab.” Paige’s gaze pinned itself on Aaron, who was gathering his things to go home. Help me! she mouthed, giving him a warning glance. He merely chuckled.

“Gosh, you’re always so nice, Paige,” Bab murmured before gulping down her drink.

Paige gave her a small smile. “Another?”

“Yeah.”

Bab continued speaking—frankly, she barely ever stopped—but Paige could barely hear her anymore. Even when she discussed Carey and her annoying ways or how Jones, Bab’s construction boss, would barely give her a second’s glance, Paige just couldn’t focus. Waves roared in her ears, crisp breezes brushed her face, and ever-darkening sky seized Paige’s heart.

It all seemed so simple as she watched waves roll in and pull back. Her worries barely mattered when watching it. However, it all came flooding back so easily—her father, his undying disappointment in her, how Beachside Barrel—as wonderful as it was—had really become a prison.

Her mom had made her plea clear. Please, would you come home? See him … before you can’t anymore.

She had her choice before her. Now, she had to make it.

Oh, why couldn’t someone sweep down and rescue her from her worries? From her fear that nothing with her father would ever change—that he’d always be angry, always be cruel, always feel as if she’d never make him proud?

She didn’t hate him … but he certainly made himself hard to love.

“Y’know, Paige,” Bab said, a contemplative look on her face as she swished her beer around, “Pastor Douglass pulled me aside a few days ago, asked me some questions. He says I should invest in people—make a bigger circle, or something like it.”

“Oh?”

Bab shrugged. “Kind of sounds funny, doesn’t it? Look, I’ve got a good thing going here, with you—and my job’s going well if only I can keep it. Just … sometimes I don’t wanna play nice. Carey’s always gunning for me, and Jones never bothers with me—and when I come home nobody’s called me, nobody cares.” Bab paused. “Well, you do; it’s why I come here.”

Paige swallowed. Though she didn’t like admitting it, Paige’s circle wasn’t much wider than Bab’s was. Every day, she worked, picked on Aaron until he sulked home, and drank until she couldn’t keep avoiding sleep. However good a cycle it was … she wasn’t growing.

Bab, apparently, was growing. Or hoping she could. Paige hadn’t really been paying attention.

Paige leaned a little closer, knowing she risked an hour’s worth of meaningless talk. Still, she couldn’t ignore Bab’s words. “Didn’t you tell me one day that you’re seeing your family again?”

Bab’s eyes brightened. “Yeah,” she answered, giving Paige a warm shrug. “It was Douglass’ advice. It hasn’t been easy, though. Dad, he … doesn’t really want anything to do with me—says I failed, or whatever.” Bab looked away, and Paige pulled in a shaky breath. “Do you think he’s right, Paige? Do you think I’d be better off alone?”

For a long second, Paige couldn’t answer. Saying no would be easy. It would condemn Bab … and it would also condemn Paige. Her father, lonely and sick as he was, didn’t want her anywhere near him. Mom could pretend he did, but she was wrong. Dad wasn’t waiting for her with a smile or open arms; he just wanted her to go away.

However, if Paige was right, Bab’s fears would be bitterly proven. Yes, her hopes may be dashed into pieces, but if Paige couldn’t believe in Bab now, how could Paige ever believe in herself?

As a salty spray of breach air settled on Paige’s cheeks, she pulled in a long breath. She tried, if only for a second, to feel a sense of peace.

She could ignore her dad and keep running as she’d been for years … or she could face her family as Bab was. Paige didn’t know which choice she should make, but maybe Bab did?

“I don’t think you’ve failed,” she offered kindly. “I think it’s difficult, and that’s okay. You’re pushing through it, and it’s really admirable.”

“Really?” Bab exclaimed, grinning. “I’m just hoping he’ll see me for what I’m worth soon. But Pastor Douglass told me it takes perseverance, so I’m doing as well as I can.”

Paige heard someone move, and looked over. Aaron was waiting a few paces away, giving her an annoyed look. It seemed he’d begun to consider her a damsel in distress after all. You need some help? he mouthed as he crossed his arms. I’ll save you once, Paige, and only once. He started forward.

“Aaron, seriously,” Paige said, facing him, “you should go home. Have some fun, get some sleep; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bab’s gaze grew sad. “Are you leaving with him, Paige?”

“Yeah, Paige,” Aaron remarked sharply. “Where are you going?”

Paige swallowed. There was no guarantee that Bab had answers. Maybe nobody did. But Paige couldn’t waste her whole life—or her dad’s life—wondering whether going home would have changed anything. Bab was facing her fears now, so maybe, in some strange way, she could help Paige face her own.

Funny, asking for Bab’s help. How Aaron would laugh at her tomorrow.

“Bab,” Paige began, meeting her wide-eyed gaze, “do you wanna stay and have a few drinks with me?”

Joy exploded on Bab’s face like a firework. “Yeah! Will Aaron be joining us?”

“Aaron’s going home,” Paige answered, giving him a little nudge.

“So much for saving you,” he muttered playfully. Then, louder: “Have fun, ladies.”

Paige offered him a dry chuckle as he ambled away, leaving her and Bab alone. But Paige didn’t feel as anxious now. She knew Bab wasn’t perfect, and maybe her kindness now would have consequences later, but she wasn’t going to walk away now. She’d done enough of that to know how it ended.

“Okay … Your father. What’s he like?”

Though Bab opened her mouth, she hesitated to answer. “It’s not really a happy story.”

Paige shrugged. “I don’t know; it seems like it has a happy ending.”

“More of a work in progress,” Bab muttered, sipping her beer.

“Then let’s work on it.”

Her persistence seemed to trump Bab’s hesitancy. “Okay,” she whispered. “You have a father like mine, or something?”

“Yeah, something like it.”

Bab grinned. “I guess we can help each other, huh?” Her jagged face softened with a bigger smile.

Paige returned it. Maybe Bab wouldn’t be Paige’s savior, and perhaps perseverance wouldn’t solve her problem. Still, she could always try, and that would have to be enough. It was for Bab, anyway.

“I guess we can.”