Whiskey Sour

☾︎✯☽︎

Finally, the time to close and head home. Jin wasted no time leaving when I offered to take care of checking the inventory before closing the pub.

As I was about to close up the pub, there was a sudden knock on the door. “We’re closed,” I called without looking behind me as I put away the last glass.

“You wouldn’t mind sparing a few minutes for a work colleague?”

I quickly snapped my head behind me and lo and behold, Lisa was standing at the door.

“Hi.” She smiled.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said. “Especially right after your shift at your internship.”

“I know, but I wanted to stop by and see you,” she said. “I hear you serve the best drinks, and I could really use one. It’s been a long night.”

I observed her closely, her tie was long discarded from her uniform, leaving her blouse with two unbuttoned buttons. Despite the smile she wore, I could tell that she was exhausted.

I gestured for her to come in and told her to close the door behind her.

“So, what would the fine lady like to have,” I asked when she settled down comfortably in her seat.

“Surprise me,” she said with a grin.

I nodded my head, “As you wish.”

I grabbed a glass, lemon juice and sugar. “So, how’s the internship going for you?” I asked.

She nodded her head side to side with a scrunch on her face. “The internship is intern-shipping.”

I arched an eyebrow and chuckled at her response. “What kind of response is that?”

“It’s the only response I can think of at the moment. I’m too burned out to get into how draining the whole thing has been ever since I started.” She chuckled.

I hummed and pushed her drink towards her. “I would have made you a tequila sunrise since you seem to like tequila, but the tequila is locked in the inventory. I hope you don’t mind having a whiskey sour instead,” I said.

“It’s okay,” she smiled assuredly. “Anything you make me is fine. Just as long as you don’t poison me.”

We both shared a laugh until her phone suddenly rang. “Hello? Hi Papa!” she said as her face lit up.

The rest of the conversation she had with her father was in Thai. I wasn’t well-versed in the language, but I did manage to get that context around the conversation was about school and her internship – a subject that seemed to be touchy for her with how she was giving half response and how visibly uncomfortable she was talking about it.

Lisa then switched to English and said with a sigh, “Yes, Papa. I know how important it is. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

After a few more minutes of chatting, Lisa said her goodbyes and ends the call. She let out a ragged sigh through her mouth, puffing her cheeks in the process before smiling at me apologetically.

“Pops getting on you back about school?” I asked.

“You understand Thai?” her eyebrows quirked up.

“Just a little. A fun fact about me is that despite being Chinese-Australian, I’m also half-Thai because of my mom,” I answered. “My dad used to send me to take Thai lessons so I wouldn’t ‘lose touch with my Thai heritage’. I had no interest in it of course, but that didn’t stop him because he hoped I’d grow to care, but I didn’t budge so he eventually stopped.”

Lisa hummed and nodded. We fell into a comfortable silence. Lisa was taking small sips of her cocktail while I watched her.

Moved around from the bar and sat next to her. “What’s on your mind, Lisa?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” she paused, deciding if she should share. “It’s always been my dream to be a dancer. I used to go to dance classes as a kid before my parents laid me off from attending so I could focus more on my studies and focus on getting into uni, but that never stopped me from dancing when I had the time. I used to tell my friends that I was going to open my dance studio.”

“Does your dad know about your night job?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I doubt if knowing his daughter spends her free time dancing at a nightclub instead of studying is something he wants to know.”

“But why study Hospitality?” I asked. “It sounds to me to you already know what you want to do with your life. Yet you’re doing the opposite.”

She was silent at first then sighed. “Exotic dancing is the closest thing I have to achieving my dream,” she explained. “I mean, I may not be going to dance school, but I get to dance in front of a lot of people and get paid as a bonus. Plus, I have to think about my dad. He sent me to pretty good private schools and a good university.”

“So, you’re a rich girl?”

“Well, I am the daughter of Master Chef Marco after all?”

My eyebrows flew up surprised. “Your dad’s Marco Brüschweiler? The famous Swiss chef Marco Brüschweiler?”

She laughed. “The very one.”

“So, are you half Swiss?” I asked.

She shook her head. “He’s my stepfather. My mom and biological father separated shortly after I was born. A year later, my mom met my stepfather. He’s been the only father figure I’ve known all my life.”

As Lisa spoke, I couldn’t help the unpleasant feeling I had. It was like I was being transported back in time to my own childhood. I saw myself as a three-year-old seated at the staircase watching my parent.

“Mai, please. Think about our son.” My dad begged on his knees in a shaky voice.

My mother didn’t give him much of a reaction other than the guilty look she wore while my dad held on to her waist for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gently freeing herself from his grasp and exiting the house with her suitcase.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as the vivid image of my dad b down with his face planted and clenched fists planted on the floor. It wasn’t a pleasant memory to recall, especially since it’s my first memory – the very first thing I remembered as a child.

“Does it bother you that your bio dad left?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I have no reason to since I have no memory of him. My mom has shown me pictures of him, but I don’t feel any strong attachment towards him the same way I have towards my dad.”

“Must be nice,” I remarked feeling a twinge of envy.

“Yeah, but I guess that’s what made it easy. I never had to wonder about what life would be like if my bio dad was around because my dad was there for me all my life. You know what they say, it takes blood to be a father, but it takes love to be a dad.” She said. “I guess the reason why I chose to study hospitality is because I want to help run his restaurant as a way of repaying him for being there for me and my mom.”

I was intrigued by her appreciation towards her stepfather, and it made me wonder what life would have been like if my dad decided to move on and remarry after my mother left. He always dismissed and shut down the idea by saying that raising and taking care of me was more important than romance. But if I’m going to be honest, I think he was only saying that because he didn’t want to admit that he still held out hope that my mother would come back.

But if I had a stepmother in my life, would my life be different or the same as it is now?