Orange Juice and Vodka

A clear plastic cupped filled with orange juice and vodka pressed against the lips of Jack. He set the cup on the bar, the watered ice lightly clinked. It was 7:45am. Jack sat in a restaurant and bar in the Los Angeles International Airport, wearing an oversized, blue and brown plaid shirt. The stubble on his face was just coming in, casting a black and silver shine over his cheeks. His sideburns had turned slightly gray, but the thin hair on his head was still black-brown.

Jack folded his arms and rested them on the bar, pressing his lips together in thought. He couldn’t keep his eyes in one place for long, staring at something for a few seconds and then relocating his gaze. The TV was on to his right on the wall, but Jack was sick of the news; so when he couldn’t find the next spot to look at, he took another sip of his orange juice and vodka. And then another, having had two already. Jack rolled his tongue along his teeth, letting out a short, curdled cough. He breathed heavily. Jack kept his head low and looked up at the bartender, who seemed to refuse eye contact. Jack sighed a little louder, hoping to draw the bartender’s attention. The bartender took a step further away.

Jack awkwardly took his plastic cup and raised it eye-level. The watered ice clinked gently, but it still didn’t draw the bartender’s attention. Jack set the drink back down – he hiccupped softly, covering his mouth afterwards to hide the sound.

A woman passed by Jack on his left and threw her purse on the bar. She hopped on the seat and pulled out her phone, typing away with fast thumbs. She wore a black blazer and pants that matched; her hair was straightened, about shoulder length. She looked intensely at her phone. The bartender came up to her and smiled. “Hi,” she exhaled quickly, “Orange juice and vodka, please.” The bartender nodded and shortly came back with a small plastic cup filled with light orange liquid. She thanked him and continued typing on her phone.

Jack took his finger and his thumb and held the rim of his cup and raised it slightly. He held it there for a moment, waiting for the woman to notice. She set her phone face down and exhaled quickly. She looked to her right and saw Jack around the corner raising his cup. She politely took her cup and lifted it just above the table. She took a small sip like a kiss and set the drink back on the bar. Jack nodded and confidently raised the cup in the air, tipping it bottoms up, and downing the rest of his orange juice and vodka. He sighed, leaving his mouth open and staring at the woman.

“Never too early,” he said, smiling guiltily.

The woman forced a toothless smile, trying to remain polite. “Yeah.”

Jack looked at her like he was waiting for her to talk to him. He licked his lips and smacked them. “What’s your reason?” Jack said a little too loudly.

“What?” she said curtly. Jack jiggled his empty cup, shaking the ice. “Oh,” she understood. “Just trying to make it through the travel day.”

“Yeah?” Jack gave a single laugh, trying to win her over by agreeing with her. “How long’s the flight?”

“Uh…” She flipped her phone over, hoping for a message to pull her away from the conversation, but there was nothing. “I’m going to San Diego. This is just a layover from St. Louis.”

“Early start,” Jack noted.

“Yeah. Flying’s a bitch.”

Jack chuckled once again in agreement. Then he gave a friendly nod. “Jack.”

The woman looked back up, realizing he was referring to himself. “Kate.”

He smiled at her. Jack lifted his plastic cup and tried swallowing the small drops left at the bottom, but all he got was ice sliding onto his nose. He set down the cup in defeat. He paused. “My father died,” he said matter-of-factly, looking straight ahead. Kate looked up from her phone and stared at Jack. “My reason,” Jack grunted as he jiggled his plastic cup. “Got an 8:50 flight to San Antonio. Bury my father there tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” Kate said, as it was the only thing she could think to say.

“You didn’t know him,” Jack muttered.

Kate watched him awkwardly, wishing she could leave without insulting him. It took a while before she found words to say. “I’m sorry for your loss. This part of life is tough.”

“I feel fine,” Jack corrected her. The bartender came back around; Jack snapped his finger loudly at him. The bartender tried to ignore it but the snap was so sharp he couldn’t escape. Jack simply pointed to his empty cup. The bartender couldn’t hide the annoyance in his face. He took the cup away, quickly poured another orange juice and vodka, and set it in front of Jack. Jack took a healthy swallow of his fresh drink.

He wiped his mouth clean with his palm. “Thought I’d be sad or cry at least once. Instead, I feel fine.” He took another sip.

Kate nodded nervously. She took a small kiss of her drink and looked down. She felt the need to say something, just for her conscience. “It’s okay if you’re not fine.”

“I am,” Jack said with determination.

“It’s okay if you’re not, though. Or later you do cry.”

“I’m going to be fine. I am fine.” Jack suddenly looked at his drink and furrowed his brow with dismay. He clenched his jaw and swallowed hard. “He was a son of bitch.” Jack said, still looking in orange juice and vodka. Kate sat still. She wanted to avoid looking at him but she couldn’t help it.

Jack rubbed his whole face with his hands up and down. “He always wanted to know why things in my life weren’t great. Why wasn’t I married? Why hadn’t I bought a house yet? How come when he was my age he already this and that?” Jack bit down on his lip. “Even in school. Why wasn't it an A? Why didn’t I make the football team eighth grade?” Jack took a sip of his drink. “So I did. I did all of those. I made JV the next year, got straight A’s, had a steady job. Fell in love. Bought a house together.”

Jack looked at Kate with sorrow in his eyes. Kate gave a gentle smile. “That’s great you got all of those.”

“We divorced seven months later,” Jack uttered.

Kate’s shoulders sank in grief for this stranger sitting next to her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Was my own damn fault,” Jack said honestly. “I didn’t love her. Not as much as I should.” Jack looked up and blinked rapidly, like he was fighting his emotions, inhaling sharply. “I got married to please Dad. After a month or so, he just asked again when we were gonna have kids. That’s when I realized I don’t think I’d ever be able to please him. I don’t think I was ever going to satisfy him. Make him proud.” Jack hung head. He suddenly chuckled to himself. “Now that he’s gone… I don’t know what to do.” Jack downed his orange juice and vodka once more.

Kate’s phone started buzzing. She flipped her phone over and saw a call was coming in. She picked it up. “Hello?... Hi! Give me one second, let me call you back.” She hung up and grabbed her purse off the table. Kate opened the zipper and took out a ten dollar bill and set it beside her drink that had hardly been touched.

She hopped off the chair, slung the purse around her shoulder, and came around to Jack. “I’m sorry for your loss, again. And I hope you’re able to find happiness.” She extended her hand towards him. Jack reached his right hand across his body and shook hers. She smiled kindly at him.

Kate tucked her hand under her purse strap and walked back into the airport.