“The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing.” – Marcus Aurelius
_Moving on_
They say all things happen for a reason. I didn’t know that night at the bar would change my outlook on life. Grady and his bar gave me purpose. He saw something I didn’t even know was possible to unleash within myself.
The day he handed me the keys to his precious bar and told me to take care of it for a few months while he and the misses traveled to their home in Belfast, Ireland, I felt it, that shimmer of hope, the flame sparking life inside me that hasn’t been there in a long while. I was both thrilled he trusted me enough to man the place, and also fucking afraid I’d let him down.
New mission: Prove to Grady that as acting manager things will run smoothly. Yeah. Hopefully I’m not digging myself a hole.
At first, I was overwhelmed with everything an owner must endure to keep things running; the bookkeeping, the vendors, the breakdowns, the employee drama, the rowdy customers, the list goes on and on.
I soon found my rhythm with the help of Maddie, the head waitress. She knows this bar inside and out and has taken on a few of the smaller tasks in the bookkeeping department due to Grady’s straining eyesight. I even learned a few pointers from Trent about making the proper mojito, Long Island iced tea, and other popular mixed drinks. By the way, drink mixing sucks. End of story. If I have to be at the bar I’ll do it, only I will steer you in the direction of something simple, like a Jack and Coke, now those I have mastered. I’d rather be in the kitchen or helping Maddie out on the floor before being stuck behind the bar.
A bartender I am not.
Once things fell into a decent groove, I quickly came see this place as my second home. I spent most, if not all my time here. The For Sale sign came down shortly after. Once Grady returned, he and I would be having a chat.
Grady returned after calling and checking in on the place, deciding to extend their trip an extra month. Once he arrived, I quickly sat him down and went straight to the point. I want this place for my own and know I can make it happen. I have savings, especially now that I’ve cut out ninety-nine percent of my drinking habits, not to mention every single paycheck I’ve made working here has gone untouched. The ladies at the bank were more than helpful in any information I needed. Still with that cringy celebrity status of mine. I’ll never be used to it and hopefully it wears off sooner rather than later.
For the first time since arriving home I had a dream, a big one at that. Not as big as the Marines, but this was a start and holds promise to a new fork in my road.
Grady gave me a deal I could not refuse and a month later I became the new owner ofHarbor’s Edge Bar and Grill.
Six months into my new business adventure, I received a desperate call from a Texas area code; I knew immediately things were not good. It was Ford’sMadregiving me the low-down on her eldest son.
Ford went through countless surgeries to repair about sixty percent of the right side of his body; he needed extensive work to mend and regain better mobility, far more than I needed. He is damn lucky to have all his limbs as mangled as they are; he survived the blast, but I can sense his suffering.
I couldn’t stand the thought of losing another brother. I needed to help him.
Ford’sMadreexplained to me how his wife recently filed for divorce, sending him spiraling out of control and finding his solace in alcohol and pain pills. He fell deeper into his depression and found his solace in prescribed medications; his doctors were all too happy to hand it over, upping the dosages to far past critical levels. Pair that with alcohol and you have a concoction for all things seriously terrifying and deadly.
Maria, Ford’sMadrewas at her wits end with the stress of raising seven other children, having her eighth begging for his life to end damn near broke her. She called me after he landed himself in the hospital from an overdose.
It’s enough to break any mother’s heart.
The following week when business was slow, I flew down, met with Maria, and made a plan to get him the help he needed back in my hometown. He needed major rehabilitation and quite possibly more surgeries. His mother couldn’t tackle much more and was on the verge of having a heart attack. This then had her calling me herhijo favorito (favorite son). I reassured her Ford would stay with me in my big empty house once he completed rehab. Ford had a long road ahead of him.
I packed whatever I could inside his Tahoe, loaded his massive ass inside, and drove back to New York, all because he has a fear of flying.
That drive sucked big, massive hairy ball-sacks… I was ready to knock him out less than an hour in; so instead I blasted the radio, sang along at the top of my lungs, and rationed his pain meds all while he spouted off never forgiving me and name calling.
What are brothers for? I can take it. Bring it the fuck on Gunner, try as you might there is no way you’re pushing me away.
Step one into his recovery was hell, but we got through it.
I was in a better frame of mine and knew my brother needed me. Nothing was going to break me from my new mission in ascertaining myself in his recovery whether he like it or not. I was their leader, the one they all looked to for guidance, and when given an order, it was still second nature for them to see it through.
Shark made his way from Virginia any chance he had to lend his assistance with our pain-in-the-ass brother. Ford was worth it. We needed our brother back. After the months of fighting and self-loathing he endured, what ultimately broke Ford from his stooper was the visit to Owen’s wife and family for his daughter’s second birthday.
It broke us all.
Tears flowed freely that day, and the remembrance at how amazing of a young man Owen was gave us the breath we needed, at least for one single night. To tell his family about his jests and poking-the-bear fun he often did around the infantry put smiles on everyone’s faces, and soon we all had a funny story to add in. Our mini bear connected us and that smile of hers gave us hope for the future. Her future.
We needed to be better people, do better, think better, all for his little girl. Owen’s princess. We would make sure his daughter knew how brave, strong, and loving her daddy was. She has three uncles that will always be here for her and her mother. No matter what.
Now two years into the business, the area is teaming with new projects, a great expansion for our community as tourist flock to the events and festivals. Finally. That tinge of purpose flared inside me. I knew I was on the right path.
Once Ford was stable, spent time in rehab and kicked his addiction, he found his solace in the kitchen. This man can cook. Only one big downfall to having him here all the time now, Ford thought the place as prime hunting grounds for finding willing ladies. Being that he worked for me in the kitchen he was not allowed to antagonize my patrons.