“Hey Cap’n!” Doc exclaimed, clapping the old man on the back. “I was hoping I’d run into you.”
“Where’s your mom and dad?” the old man inquired.
Doc shook his head. “Just me this time-came with a bunch of friends for summer break.”
“And who’s this?” The gray-bearded man turned his attention to Carrie.
“I’m Carrie,” she replied, holding her hand out.
Doc made introductions. “Carrie, this is Captain Tony.”
“The Captain Tony?”
“Yes ma’am.” He tipped his white sailor’s hat at her as he shook her hand.
“Meetcha.”
“I can’t believe Hemingway actually sat here.” Carrie turned her attention back to the vinyl-covered barstool.
“Would you like to sit on it?” Captain Tony asked.
Her eyes lit up. “Could I?”
“Well, you have to make an offering,” Doc said, grinning.
She gave him a sideways look, already suspicious. “What kind of offering?”
Captain Tony cleared his throat and pointed at the ceiling. She hadn’t noticed before-although how she’d missed it was beyond her-but the entire ceiling was full of bras of all shapes and sizes.
“You’re kidding me.” She stared at them both, then up at the ceiling, then back to Hemingway’s barstool.
“Okay…okay, fine.” She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra through her sundress, pulling one strap off, and then the other, slipping the entire thing out through one of the arm holes.
“Here.” She held it up, not realizing until that moment that they were being watched. The whole bar cheered and the bartender snapped a Polaroid of her holding up her underthings. Then he hopped over the bar holding a staple gun.
“I’ll take that.” He stepped up onto one of the stools and stapled her white cotton bra to the ceiling overlapping a leopard print bra and another made of red satin lace.
Captain Tony opened the red velvet rope and waved her through. “Have a seat!”
Carrie wasn’t going to give up her prize, and she made sure Doc got the Polaroid camera from behind the bar to take a picture of her on Hemingway’s barstool.
“Worth it?” he asked, still grinning.
Carrie glanced up at her bra, up there for all to see. “Totally.”
Doc ordered more pirate’s punch for them both and then asked, “Shouldn’t she be here?”
Carrie sipped her drink and nodded. “She’s notoriously late.”
“High maintenance sort of girl?”
“I love her, but she’s…” Carrie shrugged one shoulder.
“Spoiled?”
She smiled, but she couldn’t help but think of her friend fondly anyway. “You could say that.”
“But you’re not.” He took a drink and looked at her. “Spoiled, I mean.”
“I don’t know.” Carrie looked thoughtful. “I probably would have been if…” She let the rest of her thought trail off, but Doc filled in the blanks.
“The accident?”
“Foster families don’t really spoil their kids,” she said. “Especially when they’re very…religious. Very fundamentally, evangelically religious.”
“Don’t look at me.” Doc held his hands up in a warding off gesture when she glanced over at him. “My parents are both lapsed Methodists. No fire and brimstone here.”
She smiled. “That’s good.”
“Hey you.” Maureen breezed in, all cleaned up, wearing a respectable navy blue sun dress and a matching hat with a little white daisy on the front. “Sorry I’m late.”
“That’s okay,” Carrie waved her apology away as Doc slipped off the barstool beside her.
“I’ll be back,” he said, excusing himself, and Carrie knew he was just giving them time.
“Guess what, Care-Bear?” Maureen’s eyes were over bright, even in the dim bar.
Carrie knew, somehow she just knew, but she played dumb.
“What, Mo?”
“He asked me to marry him!” Maureen squealed, holding out her left hand and showing off the biggest diamond Carrie had ever seen.
“I’m so happy for you.” Carrie hugged her friend, swallowing hard. What else could she do? “If you’re happy…are you happy?”
“Of course I’m happy!” Maureen exclaimed, waving her left hand around again.
“He’s going to seminary next year, and we’ll live in married housing.”
“Good thing he’s not Catholic,” Carrie joked, sipping her pirate’s punch. “So I guess we won’t be roommates next year.”
Maureen’s eyes softened and she leaned in, touching her forehead to Carrie’s.
“Well, we knew that would have to end some time.”
“Right.” Carrie managed to smile. “Well, I’m happy for you. Really, I am.” Who was she trying convince?