Young at Heart

"What time you got, man?"

Once again, I checked my phone and cut my eyes over at Doug with a grin.

"It's ten thirty," I told him.

Doug rubbed both hands down his face and through his eyes and reached for his beer. It was half empty and I suspected already he wasn't going to finish it.

"Damn," Doug said. "It's getting late."

I scoffed. "Seriously? Ten thirty is late now?"

Doug made a face as he swallowed as much of his beer as he could manage. He glanced at me and shrugged.

"Got work in the morning," he said. "Besides, it's pretty clear that Richie isn't gonna make it."

I shook my head and took a deep swig of my own beer, staring back up at the flat-screen above the bar.

"Well, what does that make," I said, "the fourth or fifth time he's stopping showing?"

"Actually this is the first time he's skipped the entire game," Doug pointed out. "Last few times he's at least made halftime."

I wasn't going to let Doug off that easy.

"So when are you gonna start slacking, old timer?"

Doug shot me a look. "Hey, Sundays are tough, Dustin. Besides, you don't have to wrangle kids in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah." I smiled and watch the score ticker at the bottom of the screen. "I'm sure Richie will have an excuse like that, too. Ten years and our friendship is fading."

"It ain't a dive bar anymore, man," Doug said glancing around at the crowd of jerseys and Polo shirts. "Can't play wingman forever you know."

"Right, I see now," I said nodding. "You saddle up and sprout two kids, now Richie is living his first year of marital hell, so I'm the odd guy out, huh? You two are in cahoots I'm guessing."

Doug snorted a laugh. "Doing what?"

"Yeah, let's slowly peel poor Dustin away from the Sunday night routine and maybe he'll get hitched too, am I right?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "There's not even that much hope for you."

I nudged him playfully. "Do as you must, old fella. I'm not here to hold you back. Just here to have one more than you, I guess."

I glanced around the bar. It seemed I wasn't the only one interested in topping off my pitcher and watching more highlights of games I'd already seen. The place actually seemed more alive than it had when Doug and I had walked in. The one good thing about Teddy's becoming a sports bar was the mix of people it had drawn over the years. There were groups of much older guys, a few of them in suits, as well as the obnoxiously loud younger generations closer to my age. The bar was lit up. Everything looked so much sleeker the last couple of years, the bar itself, the chairs, stools, glasses, the nineteen flat-screens that seemed to be on every wall... everything.

I did sneak a glance at Doug though, and thought of older days when we were all still in our twenties and full of piss and vinegar. His eyes now seemed strained and red. He seemed tired so much of the time anymore. Hell, I did too. Even Richie had lost a lot of his steam. It seemed like only days had passed since Doug and I were pulling him off of some biker's old lady and dodging beer bottles in the parking lot.

"Guess times change, old man," I said with a sigh.

"Hey, enough with the 'old timer' shtick," Doug said with a chuckle. "Fuck's sake, I'm only a year older than you, dude."

I grinned. "Yeah, but you're the one with the mortgage and-"

"Dusty?"

Both of us stopped and turned. I couldn't put a voice to a face in the crowd yet, which was surprising since my name had been shouted loud enough that everyone else in the bar was turning to look too.

"Dusty!"

I didn't so much as hear her that time as see her. The woman practically bounced and pointed with a gleeful smile when she confirmed it was me. I had the briefest moment of confusion before recognition finally swept over me.

"Aw, hell," I muttered to Doug as I waved to the woman. "And to think you'd leave when the excitement is about to start."

A short blonde was cutting her way through the sea of jerseys. I couldn't mistake her big bright smile, nor could I misplace that shrill, silly giggle. Something about her was very, very unusual though.

"Who the hell is that?" Doug hissed to me.

"That is a spark plug in a sea of gasoline, bud."

"Dusty!" The older woman yelled. "I thought that was you! How are you!"

"Hey Molly," I said somewhat timidly.

There was no way to match her excitement, anyway. Even before I turned to face her inevitable embrace, I could smell Molly's sharp but sweet perfume. She hugged me tightly, and it lasted just long enough to be awkward. Especially since it was the first time I'd ever hugged her. When she pulled away from me at last, her face was inches from mine. This was definitely Molly.

"Wow, were you guys here watching the game?" Molly all but shouted.

I gave her my least sarcastic nod. "Uh, yup. Pretty good one, huh?"

"Oh, it was awesome!" Molly's big grin was on full display. "I only caught the second half! How long have you been here? I didn't even see you in here! I've just been right over there! Have you been here all night?"

Molly's questions were machine gun fast. I gave Doug a sideways glance before answering her.

"Uh, yup. Whole time."

"We come here every Sunday," Doug told her from behind me.

I nodded, but gave Doug a look that silently begged him not to help.

"Oh my gosh, that's great!" Molly's eyes seemed to brighten at the nugget of information.

"Yup," was all I had to give her.

"Oh! I was telling my husband the other day about the ribs they serve here!" Molly was just getting started. "And the ribeye! My gosh, Dusty you have got to try their ribeye! Did you know they serve steaks and stuff here? They are so good. And Wednesday nights they have half priced margaritas! You know it's so funny because I was just telling someone the other day about coming here several years ago and it always seemed so run down and then they totally turned the place..."

I was already losing focus. A person didn't so much as "talk" with Molly as listen to her. It was beyond me how she caught her breath between so many thoughts. Instead, my eyes started to wander. I'd seen Molly a hundred times before, in her everyday casual attire. I'd suffered the onslaught of her cheerfulness... but I'd never seen her like... this.

I'd always heard things. Never got to see for myself. Sure she was a firecracker, even at her age, but dear lord. It was a challenge to keep my eyes on hers. Her cleavage was all but spilling out of the tight white blouse she wore. One of Molly's hands was constantly moving - helping her "talk"- while the other somewhat balanced a margarita glass and the limited remaining alcohol within.

The ringlets of small blonde curls bounced wildly as she giggled and tossed back her head. I'd never seen her with that eyeliner, or that deep dark color of lipstick. I'd never gotten to trace a sparkly necklace down to that dark bulging crevice at her chest, never...

"Oh and that's Doug Allison isn't it!" Molly yelled in surprise.

"Molly Cross?" Doug said pointing.

"Yes!" Molly shouted as though Doug had won a ski boat on a game show. "Oh my goodness, are you still at Lawson's?"

"Yep, they pay me just enough to stay," Doug answered.

Molly laughed heartily, almost spilling what was left of the margarita in her hand. I casually turned to meet an odd grin from Doug.

"You guys have to come sit with me!" Molly offered. "My gosh, Doug, I've got to get you to put in some more tile at my house!"

"Actually, I'm about to hit the road for that very reason, Molly," Doug told her checking his phone. "Gotta be in Springfield early in the morning."

"Aw," Molly said, showing him an exaggerated face. "Well that's rough, ain't it? Dusty! Why don't you come have a drink with us then?"

I glanced past her searching for the "us" Molly was referring to.

"Well, I might," I said thinking of a lie, "but I'm waiting up on a friend of mine really, and then we're probably leaving from here to head to his place."

Molly's lips pursed and her eyes widened. "Ooh, well that sounds like a good time!"

Again I found that odd grin from Doug as Molly erupted in laughter yet again. It was hard to tell, but every time her laughter seemed genuine... which made it even more strange.

Molly started to say something else before an older man called her name from somewhere behind in the crowd. He made a joke I couldn't quite make out, but with Molly's "loud mode" hearing, she laughed at the man's joke before turning back to us.

"Well, hey, listen," Molly started, swallowing hard. "I'm gonna go grab another dozen of these and I'll be right over there, okay?"

I nodded and smiled. "Alright."

"Okay?" Molly said grinning.

"Okay."

I received another firm hug from her, this time I could feel the weight of her pillowy breasts against my arm and chest. Molly waved a quick goodbye to Doug before sliding away through the crowd. I wasn't ashamed to watch her go. Molly's backside was on the thicker side, thanks to the comfortably plump weight she'd gained with age, and she had somehow painted a pair of black tights over it. I watched that thick bottom twist, imagining I could see it jiggle before she disappeared to the other side of the bar.

I spun on my barstool to face the incredulous stare of my best friend.

"Um, Dusty?" Doug said. "You're 'Dusty' to her?"

"I know." I scratched my forehead trying to hide my grin.

"You still work with her?" Doug asked.

"Yup, she's still in the front office," I said.

Doug searched for her in the crowd. "I haven't seen her in years. She was always the loudest woman at Mom's church."

"Probably still is," I said taking a drink.

"Man," Doug said. "I would have figured with her normally being all bubbly and silly and stuff that alcohol would slow her down. Like an opposite effect? She was all over you though, Dusty."

I shot him a glare. "Don't call me that."

He laughed. "She's uh... she's ready to go tonight, huh?"

I spotted Molly perched beside a man at the bar. She was extremely close to him.

"Yeah," I said absently. "I've heard from people at work that she had kind of a wilder side, that she loved to drink and all that. Lord knows she's always talking about what she had to drink in every one of her hundreds of vacation stories. It's hard to tell, now, I know but... I dunno. It's freaky seeing her all, uh... dressed up and stuff."

Doug finished his beer and waved off the bartender. "She seems right at home to me."

"Yeah, that's scary," I added.

"She still married?"

I nodded. "As far as I know. I don't know that whole story. I know that she used to be a wild child in her younger days. I've heard her daughter is just a little younger than us, and supposedly is a real looker like her mom... uh, was."

Doug looked at me. I hoped he hadn't heard my slip there at the end.

"Well. I gotta dip." Doug turned and slid from his stool. "Have fun, 'waiting on that friend of yours'."

I grinned. "Right. I'm probably just hanging around for a few more. Got work in the morning, too, you know."

Doug patted my shoulder. "Give Richie hell for me next time you see him, alright?"

"Won't be tonight," I said.

Doug headed for the door and I was left by myself to stare up at the monitor above the bar. Truthfully I didn't see myself even staying to finish my beer, but I wasn't quite excited about calling it a night either. Nothing at the house except for late night programing and an old couch waiting on me. I sighed and decided to suck it up and slam one more for old times sake. I figured I'd enjoy the old spot free and single for Richie and Doug's sake anyway.

My eyes did find their way across the bar though, drawn by an unmistakable giddy laughter. Admittedly, I found her chest before her face. She had them all but resting on the bar, leaning over to giggle loudly at something another stranger was telling her.

Something about Molly in this setting was intriguing. She was the same hyper and slightly annoying older woman I knew from work, but I realized that this was the first time I'd really seen her in any sort of extracurricular setting. My mind started to wander to those places where the deepest secrets are kept. What would she do if I sent a drink her way? Surely she wasn't that daft, even if she could be a bit ditsy sometimes. How would the night play out then? Did I even want to know?

I blinked and turned my eyes back to the analysts on the TV. One or two more. That's about as much excitement as I needed on a Sunday night.

****

One or two more had turned into one or two of my old high school buddies spotting me and sitting down to chat. It really was a small town after all. They were acquaintances really, but I actually enjoyed catching up. I was glad to hear I wasn't the only person I knew who hadn't settled down yet.

The night sort of rolled along as more and more people left Teddy's and called it a late enough night. I traded stories with my old friends and barely sipped the two beers I wound up ordering. Before long we were wishing one another well and promising to meet up more.

Toby was already fetching empty bottles and wiping things down behind the bar. I checked the time and shook my head. Had I really sat and talked that long? I stood up and stretched, happy that I hadn't filled myself totally full of booze. I was only half passed sober. I started to head for the door at the other end of the bar when the bartender, Toby, surprisingly stopped me, calling me by name.

"Dustin!" He called, snapping his finger and leaning way out over the bar. "Hey, come here real quick!"

I gave him a grin. "C'mon, man, I'll leave on my own terms, Toby. I haven't been thrown out in years."

"I got another favor to ask," Toby said with a sigh. His face was serious.

"What do you need, man?"

He leaned close but turned to motion to the far end of the bar.

"Mrs. Giggles over there says you guys are friends?"

I followed Toby's gaze right to the short blonde leaning on the bar and laughing.

I gave him a look. "Uh. Yeah. I guess you could say so."

"Look, she's way more hammered than she's letting on, and I'm not letting another drunk lady leave here after last time," Toby told me.

"That was a fender bender in the parking lot, Toby."

"Yeah and Teddy almost canned my ass for that!" Toby protested. "We got cameras here now, dude. Look, can you please drive her home for me?"

"You want me to take her?" I glanced at Molly. "What the hell, she's probably gonna wind up with one of the Bruce Springsteen band over there."

"Yeah, and I don't trust them either." Toby tightened his lips. "Look dude, I'm trying to do this peacefully. I offered to get her an Uber or a taxi and she got all defensive with me and shit. She absolutely refuses. She said she knew you and trusted you."

I looked at Molly. It was an odd thing to hear that Molly "trusted" me. Outside of work I hardly knew her. She was still giggling at something one of the old guys was saying. I was not thrilled at the prospect of that undoubtedly loud ride. But I started to consider it more seriously. At least I could get the woman home, somewhat safely. And at least she wouldn't wind up riding in a beat up truck with an old strange man trying to grope her up.

"Damn, man," I said with a sigh. "Molly lives like in the next town over."

"You'd be doing me a favor," Toby said. "And you'd be doing her an even bigger favor."

I rubbed the back of my head. I'd already decided. There was no use digging for excuses.

"Yeah," I told Toby. "Sure, I got her."

Toby thanked me, and I made my way around the bar. I took a breath and wondered just how the hell this was about to go. I walked up to the bar and somewhat made myself "present" in front of Molly. Immediately she spun toward me and her eyes lit up again.

"Dusty!" She wasn't quite as loud now that the place was more empty than before, though my name slurred from her lips a bit.

"Hey Molly," I said, forcing a smile. "Told you I'd come see you."

"You did!" Molly seemed to gasp with realization. "Are you gonna take me home?"

"If you're ready."

"I'm so ready!" Molly said reaching for her jacket.

I'd expected resistance, from either Molly or her "friends". The older man she'd been talking to, however, immediately seemed to lose interest in her. I blinked my eyes inside his cloud of cigarette smoke. I held out my hands as if to catch her when Molly slid her short frame from the stool and stumbled a bit on the heels of her leather boots.

"Such a gentleman," Molly said giggling.

I realized I was now attached to her... physically. Molly wrapped one arm around my waist, leaving me with the only awkward option to do the same. And she was still, giggling. Molly had one of those free hearted laughs that at first seemed friendly and warm, but quickly grated on the nerves. We weren't even out of the bar yet and I was regretting my choice.

"Whatever you do don't drop me," Molly said with a snort. "I'm worth more alive."

I couldn't even fake a laugh.

"I gotcha."

The trip across the parking lot wasn't as difficult as I'd expected. Molly sure didn't seem as drunk as Toby let on. She was sauced, for sure, but she was briskly walking through the cold night fairly well, though she didn't remove her arm from around my waist. Maybe Toby just hadn't really gotten to know "Mrs. Giggles" quite yet. Hell half the time I'd known her I had always wondered if she snuck something into work with her to keep her so wired all the time.

I hit the button and my truck lit up. Molly rattled out another joke, or something of the sort, about "truck guys" that I didn't pay any mind to. Guiding her around the bed to the passenger side, I popped open the door for her.

"Can you make it, Molly?" I said nodding to the cab.

Molly chuckled and said, "Hang on, honey, I might need a cigarette."

I cocked an eyebrow at her. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I don't," she said, "but after a workout like that I usually have a cigarette to celebrate."

I did force a smile at that one. It was all I could offer. I wasn't even sure how to take a joke that related a short walk through a small parking lot to smoking after sex. That wasn't necessarily booze talking though. I'd heard her make corny cracks like that completely sober.

"Well, you got your work cut out for you here, short stuff," I said. "Think you can climb up here?"

Molly moved toward the open door, still smiling. Good lord, she was always smiling.

"I'll give it my best shot, Dusty."

Then, she turned toward me, her face suddenly serious. Molly was practically sandwiched between me and the open passenger door of my truck. Even in the dark I could see the slightest lines of age at the corners of her mouth and eyes. Her icy grey blue eyes actually took my breath for a few seconds. Molly was breathing heavily, and it was harder than ever to keep my eyes from falling to the bulging flesh of her breasts. I saw something flash in her expression just then, something sneaky and subliminal I'd never seen her do. It was as if she was begging me to look...

"You gonna help me up?" Molly asked with a smirk. "Help make sure I don't fall?"

Her words were rushed and breathless, still not quite a drunken slurr, but even so I caught the teasing in her tone.

"I won't let you down," I assured her.

"I'm counting on you!"

Molly turned and steadied one leg on the step rail, looking as though she was preparing to vault over a wall. I was unsure what to do, so I just braced, and thankfully so. As soon as Molly hoisted herself up, her boot slid a bit on the step rail. She didn't fall, necessarily, but I caught her anyway and eased her toward the seat. Molly giggled as though it were the funniest thing. I hadn't intended to catch her by the, ahem, upper thigh. But Molly seemed unfazed by it.