Iowa

They were quiet for a minute, Graham shifting in his seat. “So, uh, how long have you been working at the hotel?”

“A little over two years, actually,” Archie answered. “I started there during my last year of school, and have just stuck around while I figure out my next move.”

“Makes sense,” Graham nodded. “What did you study in school?” 

“Oh. Uh,” Archie’s shoulders contracted. “I just got my associates degree.”

“Oh, I see,” Graham said, frustrated at his lack of a better reply.

“Yeah,” Archie took a drink. “I had intended to finish. To get a degree. I had a part-time job to help put myself through school, and then, I don't know, life happened. Having to pay for my apartment caught up to me. I needed to focus on real money now, not the promise of some money later. So I upped my hours at work, then just didn't re-enroll. Told myself I'd take a semester off to get caught up financially. And here we are, almost four years later…”

“Damn,” Graham muttered. “That sounds rough.”

“It's whatever.” Archie picked at the label of his beer bottle where a corner was starting to peel off.

“Paying your way through school is no joke. You should be proud you got the basics knocked out.”

He was quiet for a minute. “I guess you're right. I don't know. I like my job, I really do. But I never thought I'd be a bartender, you know? And I definitely don't want to do it forever. Like, I know I’m a bit behind on school stuff…”

“No, I wouldn’t think of it that way,” Graham cut in. “Honestly, good for you. Too many people rush right into a four-year college and pay for a degree they end up never using. Seriously, I commend you for taking your time and figuring it out beforehand. I can't tell you how often I wish I'd taken some time to work before I went to school and picked a major I would never use.” 

”Yeah?” Archie flashed a shy smile and shrugged off Graham’s reassurance. “What did you study?

“History,” Graham confessed.

“For real?” Archie sounded surprised. “That is not what I expected.”

“That’s my point,” Graham chuckled. “I never expected to be consulting with a bunch of janitorial staff so…the fools makes his plans.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Graham took a swig of beer. “Do you know what you'd want to study for a Bachelor's? If you went back?”

“Honestly?” Archie picked at the label of his High Life. “Not really. Maybe something in the medical field? But…I don’t really have anything concrete.”

“Hey, that's okay, too.”

“Tell that to my parents.” He let out a humorless laugh.

“No, seriously,” Graham angled himself towards his companion. “There's so much pressure to have your life figured out when you're young but…” Graham sighed. “Take it from me, you can only plan and predict so much. You’re young. You have no idea what surprises and opportunities life is gonna send your way.” They were quiet for a minute, and Graham’s eyes drifted around the bar. 

He watched a man playing at a pinball machine in the corner, clearly here alone. He wondered why he never had the guts to go for a drink by himself, to get out and explore the cities he shipped off to for work. 

“I've been meaning to ask,” Graham said, his pulse quickening for some unknown reason. “How old are you anyway?”

Archie's shy smile returned, accompanied by a small dimple on his left cheek that was totally absent in his more confident moments. “Twenty-four…almost.”

“Good God,” Graham groaned and reflexively took another drink of beer. 

“Hey, I happen to be very mature for my age, thank you very much,” Archie teased, throwing a playful elbow into Graham's arm. 

“I don't disagree,” Graham admitted. “I just never thought I'd end up at a bar on a Thursday night with an actual child.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Archie rolled his eyes. “Well, how old are you?”

“Thirty-eight…going on thirty-nine.”

“Oh,” Archie’s eyebrows raised, a reaction that filled Grant with an unexpected feeling of embarrassment. “Well. You look good. For an old man.” He cocked a playful smile. 

“Thanks, I try.”Graham rolled his eyes and took a drink of his beer. “So what kind of name is Archie anyways?”

He’d meant the question as a joke, but suddenly regretted his delivery. Fortunately, Archie laughed, a bright, surprised sound that warmed Graham. 

“Don’t know too many Archies back home?”

“Can’t say I do,” Graham mused. “You don’t look like an Archibald.”

“Archer,” he replied.

“What?” asked Graham.

“It’s Archer, not Archibald.” Archie chuckled and took a drink. “Dominic Archer Esposito.” 

“Hmm,” Graham smiled. He’d been right about the Italian heritage tidbit. 

“Yeah, I don’t know where my mom came up with it,” Archie laughed. 

“Well, it’s a good name. Strong. Sturdy.” Graham opined. “Didn’t want to be Dominic?”

“I’ve got an Uncle Dom,” Archie confessed.

“Aww.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Ah,” Graham laughed. “Makes sense then.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, the world doesn’t need another Italian kid named Dominic. So one day I started going by Archie and it just kinda stuck.”

Graham thought about this for a second, this small but significant act of reinvention. “It suits you,” he finally said. 

Archie looked at him and smiled. His eyes shone in the dim light, small black skies twinkling with stars. “Thanks. I think so.”

A comfortable quiet fell over them.

“So, are you married?” Archie asked. “I haven’t seen a wedding ring, but…you know, businessmen.” He grinned mischievously.

Graham laughed nervously and cleared his throat. “I was.” He stopped, knowing he should offer more of an explanation but unsure exactly how to proceed.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Archie sounded genuine. “Sorry, that was a dumb joke.”

“No, you’re fine,” Graham assured him, smiling. “It’s old news, anyway. Sort of.” Graham wished that were true. He wished he could say he had adjusted to the shock and grief of his marriage ending, of his life being turned completely upside down over the past year. Unfortunately, he knew he didn’t mean it. 

“Yeah?” Archie asked.

“Yeah,” Graham swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “We separated about eighteen months ago. Divorce finalized about a year ago.” He paused. “It was civil. Cordial, as far as divorces go. We have a kid. Eli. So we co-parent as best as we can.”

“Well, that’s good,” Archie commented. “Still, I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” Graham confessed. “We were together for fourteen years, married for twelve. I always thought we were in it for the long-haul, but…just one of those surprises I mentioned earlier.”

“I’m sorry.” Beside him, Archie angled himself ever so slightly towards Graham, covertly flagging down the bartender for another round. He could feel Archie’s undivided attention. “Tell me about Eli.”

Graham smiled and felt himself relax. 

“Eli is seven. He’s the best. He’s smart, a little shy, extremely polite. He’s a huge nerd,” Graham chuckled. “He loves to read and watches more nature documentaries than anyone I’ve ever met. Right now he’s super into car washes.”

“Car washes?” Archie laughed. 

“He’s obsessed with them!” Graham exclaimed, his morose demeanor from before giving way to more animation. “He loves when we stop through the car wash on the way home from, well, anywhere. We had to get one of those car wash memberships cuz he was about to bankrupt us asking to stop every freaking day.” Graham chuckled. “I got him a few nice model cars for Christmas and he takes them into the bath so he can ‘wash them’. Totally gonna ruin the models, but he loves it.”

“That’s hilarious,” Archie beamed. “My little brother had a stuffed penguin when we were younger that he ruined in the bath. We told him he shouldn’t get it wet, but he always fired back at us that penguins live in the water and eat fish to survive. We couldn’t argue with him there.”

“God, these kids are too smart for their own good,” Graham laughed, reaching for the fresh beer that had just been deposited before them.

“Yeah, he and my sister were both too smart.”

“Was she younger?”

“Older.”

“Ah,” Graham smiled. “Middle child.”

Archie started to blush and rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. Cursed with a high-achieving older sister and a nerd little brother. Really set me up well.”

“Seems like you did alright,” Graham said nonchalantly. “Eli is just flying solo as an only child and a nerd. Poor kid.”

“Hey, it’s not too late for him. He’s got a cool dad, so there’s hope,” Archie smiled, playing into the joke.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure. He gets it from me in the first place. I was a huge nerd,” Graham admitted, laughing.

“Really?” Archie sounded surprised.

“Oh yeah,” Graham exclaimed. “I was skinny and awkward and bookish. I tried way too hard in school. Basically divided my time between homework and video games. I was a dork.”

Archie looked at him, a bewildered smile on his face. “Sorry, I just cannot see that at all.”

“Oh, believe it. Here,” Graham pulled out his phone and opened the Facebook app, scrolling to some old college photos. “Proof.”

He showed Archie a photo of himself from his sophomore year of college at a campus color run. He was wearing black running shorts and an oversized white t-shirt that accentuated his slim frame underneath. He wore glasses, which were clouded with variously colored powder, and he was grinning. 

“Oh wow,” Archie marveled, absentmindedly scooting closer to Graham to look. Graham felt their shoulders brush. “I would never have guessed that was you.”

“Yeah,” Graham said. A sadness had invaded his voice. “I was…a very different person back then.”

“No kidding,” Archie agreed.

“Honestly, it's a wonder that nerd managed to find anyone to marry him in the first place.” His sardonic tone made the attempted joke sound halfway bitter. He immediately regretted it. 

“I don't know about that,” Archie furrowed his brow. “You look happy. And you obviously didn't mind getting out to have fun. That seems like a pretty good combo to me.”

“Huh,” Graham murmured as he looked at the photo again. Archie wasn't wrong – his smile was earnest and large, revealing a joy Graham rarely remembered feeling. He was disheveled and flushed and covered in colored paints, but he looked…exhilarated. 

Seeing it through Archie’s eyes, he took a kinder posture towards himself. So often when Graham reflected on college he remembered late nights and long weekends studying alone. He remembered feeling isolated, inferior, excluded from the normal social hierarchy by some inherent quality he never quite understood. But here was a photo, plus a dozen others, that at least somewhat contradicted this narrative. Here was a photo of an energetic young guy doing something goofy and messy and completely superfluous because it had sounded like fun.

Graham wondered where that guy went. 

“I wasn’t good at school,” Archie admitted, shaking Graham from his train of thought. “I mean, I loved high school. I was popular. I played basketball. Was on Student Council. But my grades? Not so great.” 

“Sounds like you got a lot out of it though,” Graham encouraged.

“I made a lot of good memories. Had a lot of friends. Had a lot of fun. But I don't know that it really did much for me in the long run, ya know?”

“What do you think could've been better?”

“I don't know,” Archie took a drink. “Like, maybe if I’d studied harder and made better grades – if I had applied myself – I would've found something I cared about and been set up for college and I'd be out there doing something with my life. I don’t know, I just hate the thought of being one of those guys who already peaked…” 

His voice trailed off. 

Graham was moved by this sudden vulnerability. He wanted to say something encouraging, but everything that came to mind sounded like an empty platitude. Or worse, it sounded like advice from a wise old elder, which Graham very much did not want to be.

“Eh, grades aren’t everything,” he finally said, waving his hand dismissively. “I had a perfect GPA in high school and college, and look where that got me.”

“A dive bar in Des Moines, Iowa?” Archie smirked.

“A dive bar in Des Moines fucking Iowa,” Graham laughed. 

Archie laughed and took a drink. “Could be worse. You could be in Cedar Rapids.”

Graham began to giggle at that one, something about Archie's resignation and self-deprecating tone hitting him right in the funny bone. 

“Besides,” Archie continued. “You've got, like, the greatest drinking buddy you could ask for. I'd say you're really coming out on top.”

“True,” Graham smirked. “I get to hang out with the best bartender in West Des Moines.”

“Careful, don’t want rob to overhear you,” Archie grinned.

“Sorry, best hotel bartender in West Des Moines.”

“I’ll accept that!”

Graham raised his bottle in a toast.  

“To the Crown Prince of the West Des Moines hotel bar scene.”

“Here, here.” Archie knocked his bottle against Graham's, producing a satisfying clink.

“Although, you should see me at my other job. I’m not half bad.” 

They continued to chat for another round of drinks. Much to Graham's horror, Archie insisted on paying the tab, claiming Graham had “paid enough of his salary for the week already”. Graham thanked him profusely, moved by the small act of generosity. (He couldn't remember the last time someone had bought him a drink.)

As the clock approached midnight, they shuffled off of their barstools and out the door, Archie calling a fond farewell to Rob, as well as a promise to be back soon. Graham called a thank you to Rob over his shoulder as he stepped out into the cool night air. It was late March, that time of year when the days were warm but the nights still held on to last vestiges of Winter. Graham was happy he'd worn his pullover. 

They stopped as they reached the cars, turning to face each other, a sudden silence hanging between them. Graham felt uncharacteristically nervous, reminded of many an awkward “good night” from unsuccessful first dates. He pushed this thought aside, assuring himself this purely platonic drink had nothing in common with those other, previous outings. 

“Well,” Archie finally spoke first. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”

“Twelve-ten.” Graham's voice was tense.

“Nice, not too early.”

“Not at all. Gives me a chance to sleep in a bit and pack up in the morning.” 

Archie looked at him, his face difficult to read.

“This was fun,” he said, his elbow gesturing back towards the bar. 

“It was. Thank you again for the drinks, you really didn't need to do that.”

“Don't mention it.”

“Maybe…I can get the next round? Next week?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Archie’s eyes brightened. “You get in Monday?”

“Yep, hopefully mid-afternoon.”

“Cool.” Archie shoved his hands into his pockets as a particularly cool breeze swept through, his youth accentuated by the gesture. “Well. You know where to find me.”

Graham smiled, and despite the cold shiver that had just passed through him, he felt inexplicably warm. “Yeah. I guess I'll see you then.”

“Cool,” Archie smiled a crooked smile Graham hadn't seen before. “Well. Goodnight, Graham.”

“Goodnight, Archie.” 

Archie nodded, turned on his heels, and opened the door to his car, disappearing into the cabin. Graham did the same, letting out a long breath as he sat behind the steering wheel. Monday suddenly seemed a long way off, and Graham found himself saddened at the thought of home. 

Home.

What is home, anyways? Graham thought. An apartment he tolerated. A city he knew too well. A life he was growing more tired of by the minute. Familiarity? Routine? Certainly home is more than that. 

What is the difference between home and the past? 

Graham didn't know where this question came from, and he was confident the answer wouldn't come to him tonight. Instead, he focused on the warmth in his chest, the buzz in his head, the cramp in his cheeks from smiling so much. 

Life is full of surprises, he thought, and maybe some of them are even a little bit positive.

“Careful, Graham,” he said aloud. “Keep that up and people will think you're an optimist.”

He chuckled and put the car in drive.