The baseball game had ended a while ago. The best place to enjoy it was Benny's Bar. A diner on the outskirts of Hawkins, but with a reputation for decent food at acceptable prices.
It was Sunday, and almost all the customers had already left. Only a few men remained, greeting the waiter before heading out the door.
Benny snorted as he finished cleaning the bar. "Come on, Jim. Don't you think it's time to go home?"
Hearing his name, the man in front of him seemed to wake up from his lethargy. "Damn it, Benny, stop being so resentful. Ever since I beat you and that smart-ass Bob at poker, you won't let me drink in peace."
The bartender smiled, even though he wanted to close the dinner. He even thought of closing it with Jim Hopper in it if necessary! "Yeah... you're a damn cheater at cards, but," Benny sighed wearily . "You know I appreciate you," he assured him as he grabbed a stool to sit in front of him. "Is today? Today's the anniversary."
Hopper tensed as his blue eyes darkened by the minute. The last sip of whiskey burned him inside as he tried to calm down and change the subject. "Who are you calling a cheater?!" Jim exclaimed, pretending to be offended .
Benny shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's not very ethical to cheat naive Bob. The poor devil had never played poker before!"
"You asshole... It was you who invited him!"
They both looked at each other with grins, though Hopper's smile lasted less long as he glanced at his nearly empty glass of whiskey . "Would you be so kind as to refill it?"
"Don't even dream of it." Benny slung the bar rag over his shoulder. " Seriously , Jim. It's getting very late, and I don't want you to end up drunk." He said anxiously , lowering his tone. "I know you're still...depressed about what happened, but... You need to go home."
Hopper snorted in surprise. "No wonder you keep complaining that this diner isn't profitable. It should be your priority that we all roll down the street."
"And isn't part of your job to keep people from driving drunk?"
When the other man didn't retort with sarcasm, Benny became concerned.
They had known each other for many years. But the man who had left Hawkins to start a new life in New York was not the same man who returned years later. He was much more hermetic and reserved than the friend he had met long ago in high school. Benny suspected that the violent loss of his wife could break even the bravest man.
Hopper looked up. "They say it gets better with time. But that's bullshit."
The waiter leaned over and gave the other man an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. "Jim, think of your daughter. She'll be waiting for you at home."
The mention of his daughter seemed to be the push Hopper needed to get up. "Today, no. Do you think I'm such a mediocre father? I have thought of that." He dropped a few bills on the table, "She's with Max, a friend of hers."
Benny was about to answer him when the door of the restaurant opened again. A petite, dark-haired woman in her forties approached. Despite her simple and loose clothing, there was something special about this woman. Hopper didn't know what struck him more, if her ponytail bobbing with her firm step, or the determination with which she approached the bar . To be honest, that dinner it was usually frequented only by men.
"Sorry. Ehm..." She smiled a little nervously, "I know it's very late...um, but I was wondering if you could make me some burgers to go."
Benny sighed. Of course, it was not his day. The thought of closing soon after the game faded. "Well, you're in luck. I've been busy today," he said, looking wryly at Hopper, "and the kitchen isn't closed yet. Maybe there's something left.
"Ignore him." Murmured Hopper to himself, "He grumbles a lot, but in the end he'll cook you a feast."
The woman smiled at him with feigned friendliness. "Okay. Well... great, isn't it?"
Hopper turned to get a better look at her. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, exposing large hazel eyes. When she realized he was looking at her, she cleared her throat and lowered her gaze to her hands.
"You know... I don't think I've seen you here before." Said Hopper, trying to break the silence as they waited for Benny to return. "New to Hawkins?
"Oh, no. I mean, yeah. I'm just passing through."
"Wow... Work stuff?"
She looked surprised. Okay, maybe he'd asked too many questions. "Sorry, it's none of my business," Hopper cursed himself, trying to downplay it. "It's that I usually know almost everyone in Hawkins, and I don't think I've ever seen you before."
Her eyes wandered to the bar and lingered on his empty whiskey glass. For some strange reason she seemed pleased. At that moment, she laughed, confusing Hopper. "Do you have a file on the whole town or something?" The irony was clear, but that warm smile lifted his spirits.
Hopper needed something positive on a day when all he wanted to do was feel sorry for himself. "Well... That's one way to look at it." He played along, though as police chief that wasn't a lie either.
"Wow... maybe you can help me then."
"I'll try."
"Yeah... um... I'm looking for an old friend." She glanced around the rest of the restaurant, which was now empty. "His name is Bob Newby. I haven't seen him in many years and... I'd like to say hello to him, since I'm passing through here."
"Bob?" That was bad luck. Of all the friends this woman could have had in Hawkins, the lucky one was the damned brainiac. Why was he suddenlyjealous? It was absurd, maybe Benny was right and he had drinked too much. "Yeah..." He sounded dismissive. "He lives around here. At 3 Pacific Street." Then it occurred to him that Bob might not be so lucky, "But you're late. I think he's out of town this week, at a conference..." Hopper rolled his eyes mockingly . "About... Smart-ass stuff? I don't know."
"Of course You don't know," She pointed out.
He laughed at his stupidity. "Oh... wow... Thank you very much."
"For what?"
"I guess for making me laugh on this day." The sincerity of his gratitude made her look him in the eye.
"If you want, I can tell Bob that her friend..." He dragged out the last syllable, trying to get her to tell him her name. Though he sounded more like a drunk guy desperate to meet a girl. He cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. "Was here?"
She stared at him as if watching someone about to have a stroke, but, after a moment, her dazzling smile returned. "Of course. Her friend Joy..." Her gaze widened. "Nancy! My name's Nancy."
His eyebrow rose, but she smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, it's late and I'm a little tired from the trip." She clarified for him, although she couldn't avoid a certain nervousness.
"Uh?" Babbled Hopper.
At that moment, Benny appeared with a bag of takeout food. She sighed in relief and exchanged a few bills. "On second thought, don't tell him anything. Maybe I'll have better luck when I get back from the trip. I want it to be a surprise."
Hopper nodded and watched the woman walk away with the bags. With the same determination with which she had come.
"What a strange girl..." he muttered to himself.
Benny snorted behind him. " Seriously , Jim, you are starting to see things that aren't there. Go home now."
The woman made sure that no one had followed her. It was late at night, and the only sound in this secluded street was her footsteps. It was in stark contrast to the bustle and noise of the big city. She sighed when she spotted the truck parked nearby.
A voice startled her as soon as the door closed. "Fuck Joyce, I'm starving!"
The woman rolled her eyes as she made herself as comfortable as possible. "It's too late. Do you know how hard it was to find a place open at this hour?" She snapped at him. "You'll have to settle for a couple of burgers."
The man smiled and made an exaggerated theatrical gesture, inhaling the scent of the bag.
"For heaven's sake! You are a bottomless pit, Murray!"
He took the first bite of his hamburger with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Did anyone see you?"
She shrugged with indifference. "Just the waiter and... a man. Nothing serious."
He was about to take another bite, but his mouth closed as if petrified. "What man."
Joyce rolled her eyes in annoyance at her partner's paranoia. "Don't worry about it. He was just a guy. You know..."
"Description?"
Joyce exhaled, even letting her exasperation be heard through an exaggerated snort. But when she saw Murray still looking at her, waiting for an answer, she had to give up. "He was... a big guy, yes, with a beard... brown hair...?" She shrugged her shoulders.
"Anything else... Noteworthy? That doesn't fit the description of half the American population, thank you?"
Joyce pretended to be thoughtful. Sometimes she liked to joke with her partner. Although it was true, there was something to point out about the man from the bar. "He had blue eyes." She nodded her head as she chewed her food. "Yeah. He had blue eyes and they were very pretty, by the way."
Murray blinked in amazement. "And do I have to worry about the man with the pretty eyes?"
"Enough already! Relax! Judging by his drink, he must have be half drunk by now; tomorrow he won't even remember me!"
"Half? What do you mean?!"
"I don't know! The man drank whiskey and kept asking questions."
"Joyce!" Murray exclaimed, losing all interest in his burger. "Do you even know the definition of low profile? We have to remain inconspicuous!"
"Calm down!" She replied defensively . "He was just trying to be nice. Besides, thanks to this man, I already know where we need to go. And it will be easier than we thought."
Murray gave her a condescending look, but the smell of his hamburger and fries was stronger. He drop the subject. "Joyce Byers. One of these days I'm going to have a heart attack."