The Opiate, Spring Vol. 21
Maybe She Loved Him Elizabeth Primamore
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hinking back, Giro recalled a shortish fellow strolling into the place. He had a thick neck that sunk into the overcoat that hung away from his middle. He wore a gray fedora toward the back of his head and removed it when he sat at the bar. No one had seen him before, not even Dominick, the owner, though the man could’ve passed for one of his friends. Giro had served him a pale lager on tap. He said his name was Hank and was passing through Belleville, saw the grand opening banner in red, white and blue draped above the front door, and when he drove up a little closer, a black Ferrari in the parking lot. Intrigued, he thought he’d stop in for a drink and check the place out. He liked to support small businesses, he said, especially in times like these. Baby Doll, a regular at the bar, had found this out. Since Hank claimed to like the atmosphere of the grill so much, he returned a few more times, until he didn’t. Shortly after, Hank left for the last time with a pretty, young Asian woman, Suyuan, who arrived for an after work breather. No one had seen her before, either. ***
14.
On the weekends, Giro tended the bar in the front room at Lombardo’s Mediterranean Bar and Grill. Dominick Lombardo, a boyhood friend, owned the place. The room, large and unpretentious, with shaded windows, wooden bar stools, and dim lighting, was right there as you walked through the big brown double doors. The dining room was farther back, through a square opening, with prints from the Italian Renaissance on the walls, and side lamps. Early on weekends, no later than six, older couples and sometimes groups of senior women, came, ate and went. By eight o’clock, the place was filled with customers, sometimes two deep at the long and curved bar, and chatter filled the air, along with the clinking of glasses. Some customers watched the banner of the news cycle on the silent TV that hung high in the corner. When people were waiting for a table, they sat at the bar; or if they didn’t drink, on the window ledge; or if young, leaned against the wall and held hands under the dim lighting. In the background, Italian opera sounding through the speakers heightened the Mediterranean atmosphere. Ever since the grand opening two months ago, which drew in diners by offering a ten percent discount on