My Husband and My Mate

Chapter Two

*Chapter Two*

*Not Edited*

*Victoria P.O.V.*

I looked around the bar, satisfied that closing chores were all done. Ice restocked, check. Beer restocked, check. Glasses and instruments cleaned and put away, check. Tables and stools wiped, check. Floor swept and mopped, check. Money and receipts are in the safe, check. I smiled, knowing that I accomplished what I sat out to do today. Tips were good tonight, and everday I'm getting better at this. The people at the restaurant were decent enough, but the regulars at her bar, were an assorted group. Some, come for relaxed atmosphere. Some the great company, and some to fuel their inner demons. I liked it here, and even made a few friends of the regulars. They liked that I was pretty and easy to talk to, and I liked the adult conversations. C'mon, I love my kids, but I was starting to hum cartoon theme songs to myself. I was even starting to match real life situations to the cartoon plot lines.

This was what I needed. Sure, it wasn't mani pedi's with the girls, but it would do. Plus, I feel a little less guilty not being with them, knowing that I'm contributing something. I finished polishing the bar down hurriedly, looking forward to going home and cuddling with my hubby.

Brad sauntered over to me, he likes to check up on me before locking up. He gave a little grin.

"So, how did it go tonight?" He asked me, see, checking up.

"Very well, no messed up drinks, and no fights. I think I'm getting the hang of this." I told him with a cheeky grin

"Knew you could do it. So, how many marriage proposals tonight?" He laughed. This was a running joke among the staff. Apparently, the last bartender was a large old man; the joke being a fairly young woman, would boost business.

"Two, if you count that they both came from Mr. Billings. I tried to tell him he could do so much better than a chubby old housewife, and he said that a real man knows who can cook by looking at them, and he doesn't mind a little bit of pillow to cuddle." I laughed out loud. Mr. Billings was an older gentleman who came to drink the loneliness away. He was also a notorious flirt, but I didn't mind.

"Well, he is smarter than he lets on. Ready to head out?" He asked.

"All done, see you next Thursday." I said as I grabbed my bag and keys. I left him chuckling over poor old Mr. Billings and jumped into my old car. This is one of the first things on my wish list. A newer car. The poor old car of mine whined when I turned the key, but started like a champ. She had over 200,000 miles on her and needed a ton of work done, more than would be wise. So, saving for a newer car is a must.

It proved to be a little sooner then I wanted, when she started sputtering a couple miles from home. I quickly checked her gauges and couldn't find a reason for it. The gas gauge and engine heat checker thingie were fine, but I quickly pulled over on the side of the road anyway. Just in time too, she gave her final gasp and shake before stalling. FML, I thought. Two miles from home, and she chooses now to die.

"Please, baby. Just a little more." I prayed to her, whispering, pleading. I tried to restart her again, nothing. I grabbed my phone, seeing that it was nearly 3 am, put it back in my bag. I couldn't call home. Michael would have to lug the kids out of bed, come and get me, then wake again at 6 am to get ready for work. I sat there in my useless car for a minute, drumming my hands on the steering wheel, before making up my mind. I would walk home. There was no other way. I know for a fact the "cab" service stopped running at 2:30 a.m. If you want to call a guy with a sticker on his car a cab. That's how small a town this is. I grabbed my bag, getting out. I paused on locking the door, wondering was it crazy to lock a broken car in the middle of nowhere? Old habits die hard I guess. I locked the car and set the alarm.