"Hey, AJ. Get you a beer?"
He shook his head as he took a seat at the bar. "Got any scotch?"
I took one look at his haggard expression and reached for the 15 year old Glenfiddich, the best I had. I poured a generous amount into a glass and set it in front of him. "What's wrong?"
He took a sip from the glass before answering. "What's right?"
"Is it that Lt. Roberts? How's he doing?"
"Physically, he's doing better. Emotionally, he's a mess."
I'd suspected as much. As little as I knew this man, I knew that he hurt much deeper for his friends than he ever did for himself. "Well, this thing has got to be hard to deal with. He's in the prime of his life, and now that whole life has changed."
AJ just nodded and stared into the liquor.
"You know, I am pretty good at listening, if you want to talk about it. That is what bartenders do." I was trying my best to lighten his mood, but it didn't appear to be working. When he didn't answer, I kept going. "How is his wife handling it?"
"As well as she can. From what I've seen and what she's told me, he's shut himself off from her. Won't even let her bring their son to see him in the hospital." He paused to take another drink. "Damn fool can't see that he's pushing her away."
"Maybe he can." That finally brought his eyes up to mine. "Maybe he thinks she'll be better off without him."
"He'd better be careful. If he pushes too hard she may start to agree with him." The bitterness in his voice was so strong I could taste it.
"Is that what you did, AJ?" He looked shocked, but I couldn't stop myself. "Did you push someone away when you shouldn't have?"
"This isn't about me." He swallowed a big slug of the scotch this time.
"Isn't it? Don't you see your friend making the same mistake you did at some point?" Where the hell was all of this coming from? I knew next to nothing about this man, but these words kept pouring out of me. "It's true, isn't it?"
Silently, he slid the glass back toward me. I refilled it and slid it back, just as silently. He downed half of it in one swallow before answering. "AJ's the same age as Francesca was when..."
When he didn't finish the sentence, I asked softly, "Who's Francesca, AJ?"
He was staring into the mirror behind the bar as he answered. "My daughter. She was the same age that AJ Roberts is now when my wife left. I didn't see her again until just a few years ago. I missed her entire childhood."
I had to remind myself to breathe. "Oh, AJ." He turned his eyes to mine again with the years of pain and regret in them and I melted inside. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Really? You seemed pretty psychic there for a few minutes."
I shrugged. "Bartender's instincts."
That finally got a half smile out of him. "Well then, Dottie, you must be one hell of a bartender."
"Was there ever any doubt?"
He stood up and reached for his wallet. "None whatsoever."
"Leaving so soon?"
"Yeah. I need to get to the hospital to have a little talk with someone. How much do I owe you?"
"It's on the house." When he started to look stubborn, I gave him my best haughty raised-eyebrow, I'm-in-charge look. "Hey, you may be an Admiral, but this is my little ship and what I say goes."
His eyes warmed as he gave me that drop dead smile I'd been waiting for since he walked in. "Aye aye, ma'am."
I watched him walk out into the fading light. "Hoo yah, AJ. Hoo yah."
