He Stays Till I Lock Up

he's a regular, comes in alone, sits at the end where i do the till. nothing happens. that's the whole thing, nothing happens.

but he's started staying till close. the others clear out by one and he nurses the last one and we talk, low, the way you only talk when the music's off and the chairs are going up on the tables. tonight i wiped down the bar and he flipped the chairs without me asking, both of us moving around each other in that small space behind the taps, and once his hand was on the cooler door the same second mine was and neither of us moved it for a beat too long.

i'm engaged. there's a ring in my apron pocket because it catches on the glassware. i took it off at the start of the shift like i do, for the work, only for the work.

i locked up. he said goodnight in the lot, normal, friendly, walked to his car. i sat in mine and didn't start it for a while.

i keep thinking it's nothing because nothing happened. and then i think about how careful i was, all night, to make sure nothing did.