For Mary Wardwell, springtime had never been a merciful season, always blowing irksome pollen and an endless pile of homework and projects to grade into her life with the sole intent of tormenting the gentle schoolteacher. Between the constant sneezing, watery eyes, and a growing list of responsibilities that go far beyond her humble position as social studies teacher, there was never time for the woman to enjoy the blossoming trees and warm weather her students gushed about when they returned from spring break. By the time the final exams and projects are graded in June, the pleasant season is over, dragging the oppressive heat of summer in its wake.
As a child, her July birthday was a curse. Too hot to enjoy outside because her parents refused the luxury of a backyard pool, though they could certainly afford it. Her friends, the few she managed to make, were shipped across the country into the arms of grandparents and camp directors soon as the final school bell rang over the neighborhood. On top of that, Mary was an only child, often left to her own devices by parents who would rather waste their lives away behind a desk than with their daughter. So, the quiet girl grew into a solitary woman, spending her birthdays alone with the flickering light from the candle of a single cupcake to celebrate another year passing.
This year, her 50th birthday begins with an crushing sense of despair and persistent showers that bathe the air with an uncomfortable, sticky feeling. The academic year has finished, leaving the high school resembling a ghost town, with her students splitting their time between the nearby lake and the air conditioned movie theater on Main Street. Each evening, when the sun disappears and the temperature drops to a bearable level, the teacher hears the cacophonous sound of their journeys home squeezed into borrowed family cars.
When she rises from her bed, the sound of her bones cracking and creaking are a disturbing wake up call, alerting her to the reality of her age. She does not want to think of herself as old, but standing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, Mary cannot believe the woman she sees staring back at her. By all accounts, she recognizes the delicate gray hairs peppered across her temples and the shadows hanging under her eyes that she can't seem to escape. However, she's most shocked (and a little frightened) to see the ghost of her late mother watching her in the glass. While memories of a strict mother and complacent father deal a heavy blow to her self-esteem, the unspoken truth that she will celebrate another birthday alone is more devastating. No husband, no children, and no friends to speak of. A mass of dark clouds looms over her spirit, leaving the introverted woman with a sense of anguish as she considers the utterly miserable state of her life.
Once upon a time, before her parents died, she was engaged to a man named Adam with the sweetest hazel eyes that crinkled when he smiled and dreams of showing Mary the world. There wasn't anything exceptional about Adam, an overworked hospital intern studying to take his skills to communities without the means to care for their ill. She believed his hard work was admirable and accepted his invitations because that's what her parents wanted. Aspirations aside, Adam was uncomplicated, bordering on mind-numbingly boring, but safe. Unaware that he was more interested in Mary than she could ever be him.
Nevertheless, they were happy (enough) together, following the rituals of conventional heterosexual life. There were dates to fine restaurants and movie theaters, dinners with her parents, and even the discussion of an engagement. He made her laugh and her parents absolutely worshipped him, having finally taken interest in her life when they retired. For a short period, Mary believed she loved Adam, more than any of the boyfriends from her youth that she found herself dating simply because they pursued her first.
She soon realized that the love she felt wasn't romantic.
Familiar.
Platonic.
Absolutely never sexual.
When Adam finished his internship, he offered to take her around the globe and open her eyes to the world she could never see from the windows of her childhood home. But, she couldn't bring herself to take his hand and escape into the jungle for adventures unknown. Used the excuse of her parent's failing health to remain in the tiny town that treated her like a leper. The boy with hazel eyes waited patiently, writing letters and sending gifts from dusty villages in places she couldn't point to on a map. When her parents died, just five short months apart, the last remnants of his resolve begins to evaporate until the letters stop and Mary is alone with a ring and a home that imprisoned her. For twenty years, she teaches high school social studies and thinks about the life she could have lived with the boy she didn't love enough to leave.
When the clouds begin to clear and cleanse the air of the overpowering humidity, Mary decides her 50th year will be unlike the others. She dares herself to (metaphorically) shatter the mirror before her and escape the bland, uncomplicated life she created for herself in defiance of parents who wanted her to be just like them.
That's how Mary finds herself in a bar 100 miles away from her home, far from the prying eyes of her students and their families, dressed in the nicest outfit she owns. The ensemble is still safe, one she might wear to work if she were ever feeling courageous, comprised of black tapered slacks and a white lace blouse with a two extra buttons undone. A scarlet blazer is the centerpiece of the outfit, accentuating the sharp lines of her shoulders and the gentle curve of a waist. When her make-up and hair is done, Mary almost doesn't recognize herself and this makes her smile for the first time that day.
Sitting at the counter, the teacher orders a glass of wine and is gracious when the bartender asks for her ID though there was no way the twenty-something server believed she was underage.
There is a young man with warm, caramel skin behind the counter, stacking glasses with the name Ambrose embroidered on his shirt and a mischievous smirk on his face. "It's your birthday today? Happy Birthday!" Mary returns the smile with some discomfort as she realized this was the first time that day she'd heard those two words from another person. "Your first drink is on me. What would you like?" This time, her smile is more genuine when the bartender points to the shelf of liquor behind him.
"Surprise me."
Ambrose is quick to begin assembling a concoction with a mysterious clear liquor with a bat on the logo. His movements are deliberate, measuring and pouring different color liquids until he's ready to place a rainbow themed drink in front of the dark haired woman. Before Mary can take a sip, there is a colorful cocktail umbrella and plastic straw dropped into the drink.
"What is this?"
The wire haired man shrugs as he clears the counter of the mess he made. "Don't know. Made it up." Ambrose watches her when she learns forwards to wrap her lips around the straw, smiling brightly when the birthday girl hums excitedly.
"Damn, that's good."
"I'm glad you enjoy it. Maybe you should be the one to name it." The young bartender winks at her before whirling away to assist another customer, unaware of the blush rising on the schoolteacher's cheeks from his attention. Mary turns away from the bar to gaze around the room, examining the other patrons with curiosity while she slowly sips her drink.
The interior wasn't extraordinary. If anything, she might call the décor fairly vintage, but the atmosphere was lovely and there wasn't a soul to recognize her. That's what she wanted the most when she Googled establishments on her phone earlier in the afternoon. She wanted to blend into the crowd and disappear. When she patronized the bars at home, there were always familiar faces of former classmates, now the parents of her students. An hour and a half was a long way to drive for solitude, but there was something special about the name that drew her in.
Spellman's.
Located in Greendale, Spellman's was the closest this unassuming mining town had to an upscale establishment, offering customers an opportunity to escape their drab lives and experience a classier form of dining. At least, that's what their website said, though with less insulting language. Obviously, the owners intended to pay homage to the Golden Age of Hollywood through a bold use of color and contrasts with metallic and glass accents dotted around the room. There certainly was an air of opulence and comfort that Mary finds pleasing, mesmerized by the navy blue walls and gold embossed designs.
While she's contemplating taking a closer look, she fails to see the man who deposits himself next to her at the bar, swaying in his seat. Mary is assaulted by the smell of beer wafting from his open mouth before he can even speak a word, but she remains silent nevertheless as he ogles her without shame. She resists the urge to vomit under the pressure of his unpleasant odor and leering eye, not wanting Ambrose's delightful potion to be wasted.
"A beautiful lady like yourself shouldn't be drinking alone."
Mary is unable to stop herself before rolling her eyes at the atrocious attempt at a pick up. Her dating skills might be a touch obsolete, but she can recognize a terrible line still. The teacher refuses to respond, cheating her body away from the grotesque man with stains on his shirt and hair oily enough to lubricate a car. With her eyes turned away, she fails to see his hand raised to touch her.
"Hey, I was talking to you, bi-" His slurred words are stopped short by the harsh sound of skin slapping together. Mary is so shocked by the sudden noise that she whips around to face the disturbance, causing her drink to slosh over the rim of the glass and land on the man's wrinkled pants. Her hand is covered with the sticky liquid as well. With lips curled back in anger, he opens his mouth again and begins to struggle against the hand holding him back. "You bitch! Let me go!"
"I would think carefully about your next move, Mr. Klein."
While she should have been upset by the altercation, Mary is momentarily distracted by the woman standing behind the brutish man with a voice that dripped smooth like bourbon, roughly grasping his wrist between perfectly manicured nails. Her strength did not waver, even as he thrashed in his seat and reached across the bar with his free hand for a pile of napkins to dab the wet spot on his slacks. The mystery woman looks like she stepped into a time machine exclusively with the purpose of escaping the 1950s to grace mere mortals of the 21st century with her timeless beauty. The two piece suit she wears is expertly tailored to draw attention to the sloping curvature of her shoulders and the delicate line of her waist with a midnight skirt reaching just above the ankles and an eye-catching leopard print jacket. She stands tall, certainly taller than Mary, in a matching pair of leopard print pumps that created the illusion of legs that never end. Her copper tresses are styled in a contemporary interpretation of victory rolls, cascading over her shoulders, not a single strand out of place. The village teacher has always known her own proclivity for the fairer sex, but never has a woman captivated her so thoroughly.
Zelda smirks teasingly as the dark haired woman in the red blazer watches her unabashedly while she continues to restrain Robert Klein, the foreman for the new housing development taking form down the road from Spellman's. In the short time since the project broke ground, the contemptuous lush of a man had become a thorn in her side and this encounter would be his third strike. There was very little chance that he would leave her lounge without a fight, so she raises her free hand to signal Dominic, their pseudo-bouncer to stand by for the impending conflict. The burly man with a military hair cut appears behind her immediately, waiting for his boss to give a command.
When Klein flexes his arm and prepares to yank himself from her grip, the redhead waits for the opportune moment and releases the appendage, sending his own fist flying into his face with a loud SMACK. Mary Wardwell watches the man as he slides from the stool, nose clutched between one hand, and turns aggressively toward the nameless woman. His hand is raised, ready to strike her, but the glare on her face stops his tracks.
"The last man who raised a hand to me is six feet under." The temperature of the room drops as the voices around them dwindle to a whisper when Zelda speaks, her tone even and scathing. She takes a step towards him, forcing the imprudent man to scurry away from the bar as she stands protectively in front of the stranger watching her with wide eyes. "I would implore you to learn from his mistakes."
Barely a second passes before Robert Klein throws his fist back to strike the owner, too quickly for even Dominic to respond from his place six feet away. However, the larger man doesn't move a muscle because he knows the petite woman could handle herself. Just as Klein's fist clears the distance between them, Zelda veers her head to the right, takes hold of his wrist again and ducks blow his elbow to wrench the drunken man's arm behind his back. She ignores his shout of pain and shoves him towards her bouncer's waiting arms, utilizing his own intoxication and lack of balance to maneuver his significantly larger body the short distance. He struggles under the former army ranger's strength, spewing obscenities as he's pushed through the room.
"Dominic, please inform Mr. Klein that he is no longer welcome here." The bouncer gives her a thumbs up, forcing the man over the threshold of the lounge. Even after both men have exited the building, the room remains silent, watching the red haired woman with apprehensive eyes.
As Zelda spins towards her, Mary's voice fails her now that the beautiful woman who just rescued her from that atrocious man was standing near. Luckily, she has a moment to compose herself when the other woman speaks first.
"Please follow me, Ms…"
"Wardwell, Mary Wardwell." The teacher doesn't protest, simple sets the nearly empty glass from her hand onto the bar and follows the woman whose name she still doesn't know through the room of prying eyes. She is led behind a velvet curtain into a dimly lit hallway where the redhead opens the last door on the right, motioning for her to enter the single stall restroom.
"Feel free to take your time cleaning up, Ms. Wardwell. My office is just across the hall if you'd like to join me for a drink. The invitation is open, no pressure." Without further fanfare, Zelda leaves the dark haired woman alone, returning to her office. Once inside, she uses the phone on her desk to call Ambrose behind the bar.
"Are you alright, Auntie? I should have been paying more attention to Klein and cut him off sooner." Her nephew sounds apologetic, though there wasn't a reason for him to be.
"Don't worry, Ambrose. Your job is to serve drinks, not babysit drunken fools." She can hear him begin to apologize again, but she's too distracted by the soft tap tap tap on the door to stop him. "Come in." Mary stands awkwardly in the doorway while the mystery woman finishes her conversation. "Ambrose, stop fussing. Just bring a refill of the drink Ms. Wardwell had earlier and my usual, thank you." The mysterious woman waves her hand for Mary to take a seat on the black leather couch across from the door while she waits for the person on the phone to finish speaking. Once the phone is returned to the cradle, she joins the teacher on the couch, crossing her knees delicately and sinking into the soft furniture. When her gaze is focused solely on Mary, the educator cannot stop the rise of color to her cheeks as the woman offers her sincere apologies for the altercation that had taken place a few short minutes before.
"Please, you don't need to apologize. If anything, I should be thanking you, Ms…" Mary pleads, tucking a stray curl behind her ear when the red haired woman holds her hand out to shake.
"Zelda Spellman, I own and manage this lovely establishment." Their hands touch briefly and there isn't one of those Hallmark sparks but the tentative confidence radiating from the enchanting woman's body is enough to intrigue Zelda. She was curious about the strange woman who was spending her birthday alone, according to Ambrose. The eldest Spellman wasn't a fan of her own birthday for personal reasons, but she would be remiss to allow the soft spoken woman to remain alone for the evening.
There is a knock at the door and Ambrose's appearance halts the conversation as he enters carrying a serving tray with two glasses. One short with an amber liquid and another with colors similar to the drink Mary was enjoying before her evening was disturbed. He is silent while he deposits the two drinks on the table in front of the woman.
"Thank you, Ambrose." His aunts says, never taking her eyes from Mary who blushes even harder, unused to having a beautiful woman pay such close attention to her. "Has the house settled after Klein's little tantrum?"
"Oh, you will certainly be the talk of the town tomorrow after that display. So much for shaking your reputation." She turns to face her nephew when he chuckles, flashing Mary his dimples and pearly white teeth. The teacher looks perplexed by the missing details of their conversation, but shakes the curiosity away. In the back of her mind, she hoped there would be the opportunity to learn more about this enigmatic woman. Ambrose nods to them both before spinning on his heels to exit the room, stopping briefly to address the redhead again. "Just give me a call if you need anything else, Auntie. I'll keep an eye on things tonight."
"As I was saying, thank you, Ms. Spellman." Mary continues after the door closes behind the young man, smiling brightly at the woman who looked more like a runway model than a restaurant owner.
"You can call me Zelda, dear." She flirts shamelessly, flashing her guest a full, wine-colored stained smile before handing Mary her drink and reaching for her own. The teacher takes a long sip from the tall glass, allowing the liquor to envelop her body. More accustomed to drinking wine and hard seltzer, the rum mixture greatly relaxes her as she allows her body to melt into the couch.
"Oh, then you should call me Mary then, Zelda." Much like her drink, the woman's name tastes sweet on her lips and she must stop herself from indulgently repeating it over and over.
"So, what brings you to our little town? I know everyone here and your face is undoubtedly one I would remember."
For a moment, Mary considers telling the beautiful woman a lie to hide the depressing reason she'd chosen to drive almost two hours to a town she never heard of to drink her sorrows away at a bar where no one would recognize her, but there was something compelling about the sincerity of the emerald green eyes staring at her that convinced Mary the truth was favorable.
"I didn't want to spend my birthday home alone. Drinking in a room full of strangers sounded more exciting than what I had planned." She can feel the dark cloud that follows her return, threatening to drown the room with her sorrows. Mary expects that Zelda will decide to end their conversation and quickly escape the shadow hanging over the woman with ebony locks flowing down her back. The other woman watches her intently, eyes narrowed in deep thought, causing her companion to squirm under the scrutiny. After a few moments, Zelda's face breaks into an eager smile and Mary can almost see the wheels turning behind green eyes that she is growing quite fond of.
"Well, Mr. Klein was right about one thing this evening," Her voice is strong, wrapping around Mary like a soothing embrace. "You are a beautiful woman and you will not be drinking alone tonight."
Those are the last words Mary recalls the next day before the evening morphed into absolute debauchery.