Chapter 12
The face of the bartender, Johnny, lit up in recognition, and he shouted, “Ian! It’s about time!”
Ian felt all the eyes in the pub turn toward him, and he wondered if this had been a good idea. The crowd at the bar parted, and he was able to make his way into the small space. Soon, he was crowded by patrons slapping him on the back and welcoming him. This was what he’d been afraid of, the reason he’d stayed in his house. Before, when he had his career, this had been his neighborhood pub. But it had been different then. Before, it was all about camaraderie. But now, he wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want their pity. He lost sight of Johanna, and a small sense of panic filled him. He felt something brush against his arm, and he looked down to see her standing next to him.
“I better hang on, or I’ll get swallowed up.” She winked at him. He smiled; glad she was there with him. It seemed normal. Two pints suddenly appeared as if by magic, and one was handed to Ian, the other to Johanna.
“It’s on the house tonight, Ian,” Johnny called. He nodded toward Jo. “For you and your girl.”
Johanna smiled at the bartender, gave a little wave, and said, “I’m Jo.”
“You’re very welcome, Jo.” Johnny beamed. The bartender went to the other end of the bar and announced, “Ian’s back.”
Despite all the attention, there was a part of Ian that was grateful Jo hadn’t corrected Johnny about being his girl. He stroked his beard and thought about this.
Jo stood on her toes, the top of her head brushing against his chin. Her hair smelled like coconuts, and he was reminded of a tropical vacation. “There’s a table over there,” she said. “Would you prefer to sit there, or will we stay at the bar?”
“Actually, I would prefer that,” he said. His armpits ached from the crutches. He’d like to give them a rest. Plus, it was crowded at the bar. He didn’t want to be the center of attention, and he’d like to avoid any questions as to how he was doing.
Jo carried their pint glasses to an upholstered booth and scooted onto the leather bench seat. Ian set his crutches against the wall next to the booth and sat down next to Jo. Despite his anxiety, it did feel good to be out.
“So, Johanna, you said you’d be starting a new job when you return home?”
Jo nodded. “That’s right. It’s at a coffee shop within walking distance to where I live.”
“That’ll be handy.”
“That’s what I thought. The owners seemed nice when I went in for my interview.” Definitely better than her former boss. She sipped her ale.
“Do you like customer service?” he asked. He was trying to picture her working an expensive coffee machine and dealing with all those complicated orders.
“I suppose I do. I like dealing with people.”
“Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what I want to do with the rest of my life,” she said, not making eye contact but looking around the room. She regarded her pint glass. “I’m still trying to decide. Most of my friends have already graduated from college.”
“It’s not a judgment, Johanna, I’m just curious about your life at home,” he said. He hoped he hadn’t made her uncomfortable.
“Hmm. Okay. Well, I work. I have an apartment. I used to have a roommate, but she went and got herself a boyfriend, so off she went. Yeesh.” Jo laughed nervously, and her eyes darted around the pub.
“What do you do when you’re not working or living alone in your apartment?” he teased.
“I hang out with my friends.”
“Pubs?”
“Yeah, sure, sometimes. We do the usual stuff: go to movies, go to brunch sometimes. As you know, I love drawing, and I do all kinds of crafts. I’ve strong-armed my friends on occasion into those paint and wine classes.”
Ian smiled. He was trying to picture her strong-arming anyone but couldn’t see it. She was just too nice.
“What kind of crafts do you do?”
“I like anything that allows me to use my hands,” she enthused. “I take those adult education courses at the high school every year. I’ve done pottery, painting, crocheting.”
“And did you enjoy that?”
She nodded. “I do, really. There’s a stained-glass course I’m going to take when I get home. I’m really looking forward to that.”
Ian smiled. He pictured her wearing an artist’s smock, bent over various pieces of colored glass, trying to make it all fit.
Ian lifted his pint and said, “Here’s to stained glass!”
She clinked her glass against his and said, “Cheers.”
They made general conversation, and Ian realized he was interested in what she had to say. When their pint glasses were drained, Jo stood, picked them up, and said, “Ready for another?” When he nodded, she headed off in the direction of the bar.
Ian frowned when he saw the guy standing next to her at the bar lean down and whisper something to her.
“Ian!” someone shouted. Ian dragged his eyes away from Jo and turned in the direction of the voice. He smiled, but he was hesitant. It was two of his teammates, Donal and Brian. He hadn’t seen them since he was in the hospital. Soon after the accident, they’d come to visit him, but it had been awkward because what does one say to an athlete when their career is cut short? As it turned out, not too much.
Pints in hand, they each pulled a chair from neighboring tables.
“Who are you here with?” Donal asked.
At that moment, Jo appeared and set their pint glasses on the table. Ian could tell by his teammates’ expressions that they were confused but at the same time, found her attractive. It was hard not to.
Ian introduced Jo. The last thing he wanted was for them to get the impression that she was his carer or something.
“This is Johanna. Her nan and my nan are best friends. They’re visiting from America.”
With a thumb toward Ian, Donal teased, “How’d you get stuck with him? Doing penance or something?”
“Someone had to take a hit for the team,” Jo teased, her laugh a light, silvery peal. Her eyes sparkled.
Donal and Brian’s eyes widened, and they burst out laughing.
Ian had to pull his gaze away from her, as Brian was speaking to him.
“I think you’ve met your match, Ian,” Brian said.
Ian couldn’t help but wonder, had he?
They settled into a conversation about what was going on with the team. Donal and Brian brought Ian quickly up to speed. Ian felt a bit of anxiety over it; he missed it. More than anything. The manager had told him that there was a place for him in management, but Ian only wanted to play, which was why he hadn’t returned any of his manager’s phone calls or texts.
Ian kept his eye on Jo, mindful of trying to include her in the conversation. But she didn’t know the first thing about rugby. A couple of times, he attempted to change the subject, but Donal and Brian continued to steer it back to the team. It wasn’t only for Jo’s sake he wanted a change in the conversation but for his own as well. It was hard to hear about the team moving on without him. But that’s just what was happening—they had moved on.
Jo stood up and stepped out of the booth, laid her hand on Ian’s shoulder, and whispered into his ear that she was going to the bathroom. Her hair fell forward and brushed the side of his neck. As she walked away, Ian was aware of other men in the pub giving her the once-over. His skin prickled. Was he jealous? Protective? And where had that come from?
“So, what’s going on between you and Jo?” Brian asked once Jo was out of earshot.
“What do you mean?” Ian asked. He drained the rest of his pint glass.
“I see the way you look at her and the way she looks at you, and I wondered if there was something there,” Brian asked.
Ian shrugged, trying to appear casual. “Nothing. Like I said, she’s a friend of the family. Are we ready for another round?”
“I’ll get it,” Donal said.
“Here, let me at least pay for it,” Ian said. He didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. He might not be able to play rugby, but he could still afford to buy a round or two. He removed his wallet from his back pocket, pulled a couple of notes from it, and slid them across the table to Donal, who didn’t argue.
“Did I miss anything?” Jo asked as she reappeared, her eyes shining brightly. Her gaze bounced from Ian to his friends and then back to Ian again.
Ian smiled at her. “Not a thing, just ordering another round.”