by M. C. Cerny
“Hola, Miss O.” Pedro sprayed seltzer over ice, a handful of maraschino cherries, and cranberry juice in a tall glass placing it in front of me. I remembered Andy saying Pedro was fairly new, maybe two or three years, but one of his best employees. I’m sure he had a story to tell, but Pedro kept to himself and took his barkeep counselor duties seriously with an ear always ready to listen.
“Thanks Pete.” I said taking a sip. He nodded and resumed stocking the bar. Sooner or later, Andy would come out of the back office to help him, and since my schedule was pretty free, I decided to wait.
I didn’t have long to wait before David showed up Andy was still MIA and maybe someone tipped him off. I wasn’t exactly an Easton family favorite.
“No more grenades, okay?” David sat next to me but the distance between us was clear as a fucking bell.
“He told you?” The pit in my stomach grew exponentially.
“His drunk ass cried about it after I got him hammered on Pedro’s specialty.” Having heard his name, Pedro glanced over at us and nodded.
“It wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”
“No.” David grunted agreeing. “He’s been hungover that last three days leaving me to manage shit.”
“I’m sorry.” I picked out a cherry biting into it. Sweet flavor burst on my tongue mixing with the tart cranberry juice and my sour sorrow.
“Don’t be sorry about that. Be sorry you’ve strung him along.”
“I left David. He wasn’t supposed to carry a torch for me.”
He snorted like I said something ridiculous, this was exactly why I left. Clean break. No contact. Look at what it got me.
“Yeah, well little sister, the heart wants what it wants and he’s wanted you. He’s always wanted you.”
I hung my head in shame. Why did hurting someone for their own good have to hurt so much more in return? I did this for him, but no amount of pushing kept him away.
“I thought he’d fill an annulment, find a nice girl and forget about me.”
“If you honestly thought that…you know what, let’s go.” David stood up abruptly almost knocking me off the stool. His paw of a hand clamps around my bicep and he’s pulling me along with him.
“Hey, where are we going?”
David heads down the hall past the closet we got locked in and into his office. He none to gently dumps me in a chair across from Andy’s desk and started opening drawers pulling files.
“You need to see this.”
He dumped a file onto to the table and puts a finger on top as I go to grab the folder.
“Wait.”
“I thought you said I needed to see this.”
“You do, but I feel like I should preface this with you left him, and you left him with few options.”
I’m shaking my head. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
David pushed the file toward me and I picked it up flipping it open. My mouth dropped at the first page and David bobbed his head indicating I should keep reading. I do and I’m shocked.
The winery was my inheritance.
Was being the keyword and probably the reason why Andy’s lawyer had been stalling me on the documents.
“They thought I was dead?”
“Your grandfather bankrupted the winery looking for you. Andy worked his ass off and started the brewery so they wouldn’t lose it, but he couldn’t keep hold of it forever.”
I sunk back into the chair, the file on my lap and my chest feeling like someone took a hammer and cracked my ribs.
“How?”
“He’s leased some of the land to make it a working winery again.”
“Callista’s herb garden in the greenhouse.”
“Aye, don’t mention her name around here though.”
“No, I know. Whit and Lia’s thing.” I was stunned. This was why when I showed up they were joking about calling him the mayor. He basically was the town mayor after all those write in votes.
“File is thick, keep going.”
I continue to page through. I find copies of our filed marriage certificate and an unsigned divorce petition. He never went through with it. Bile rises up in my throat, only this time, I’m sick I might lose him for good.
“He’s renting out the house.”
“Family needed a place to go.” David shrugged.
“Says here the land is being sublet for a period of twenty years to another winery.”
“Probably the worst blow because he couldn’t prevent it and had to convince your grandmother to do it or he’d sell it outright.”
“I bet she loved that.” I mumbled imagining her stern Greek face telling Andy no as everything fell down around her.
“The deal created a number of jobs. It’s worked out for the best at the cost of ego. He had to make the brewery work or he’d lose everything.”
“I still don’t understand, if they thought I was dead.”
“My brother is nothing if not tenacious. He hired his own guy to find you and had me to run computer checks. By the way, you might want to pay those library fines.” David winked and heat filled my face embarrassed. Hadn’t I done enough to these people?
“So if I wasn’t dead then what?”
“Your grandmother wrote a clause in the will that if you didn’t come back a year after her passing then everything, debts included would go to your husband.”
“And he never divorced me.”
“No, much to my disappointment.”
“Okay, tough guy, I get it. The truce is over.”
“You really don’t understand, Sierra. He loves you, not past tense, forever tense and whether or not you reciprocate, he’s made his live carrying on.”
“So you mean to tell me no girlfriends, no one night stands, nothing?”
“I’d like to think I’m the one in the family struggling with anger issues, but Andy’s got me beat on pent up emotions despite his boy next door smile.”
“Oh.” Every frantic encounter rushed back at me like a train derailing. My fingers touched my lips as I recalled our last kiss and energy behind it. He’d been a nuclear bomb and the fallout had yet to come.
“Yeah, Oh. Now get up and let’s go.”
“What? Now? Won’t he be back?”
“He’s at the brewery and as much as I enjoy babysitting, I’d rather be with my girlfriend. The two of you can work this shit out. I’ll drive.” David gestured to the back parking lot and I followed him.
He drove me to the edge of town where a small factory like building sat. Easton’s Brewery had been painted on the side and I was finally getting a tour of Andy’s pride and joy.
“No more bombs, got it.” David opened the door and ushered me inside before leaving. I was on my own with this one.
28
Andy
“Dude is there a reason some prepubescent boy is sending me unsolicited dick pics?” Damian’s face looked like he sucked on a lemon and forgot the precursor of tequila. Either way it was rough and unnecessary. I also thought that for someone who thrived on being the group prankster he had a lot of gall being insulted by something he probably deserved.
It reminded of the footballs days when itching powder ended up in uniform bags and shampoo got swapped out for hair dye. We’d gotten into so much trouble but now those memories were worth it. I don’t think I could remember my teen years half as well without these guys doing stupid shit and trying to not get caught.
Evan looked up from his own phone responding, “That sounds like a felony waiting to happen.” Leave it to the cop in the group to set him straight. If I could have been anywhere else but here, I would have been. I left two months’ worth of paperwork in my office and the body of a hot brunette upstairs in my bed sleeping off a marathon round of sex. It was a miracle I wasn’t limping around my own bar from the exertion, but if having to act tough saved me ten years’ worth of agony then by god I’d find a way to power through until I could collapse in her arms later tonight.
“Did you piss off your wife again?” said Hunter. He flipped a bottle cap over and over between his fingers bored by all of this. He’d had years of living with Damien to know that most of these situations were of his own doing. Hunter remained stoic and his well of empathy was desert dry in regards to Damien’s antics.
Damien scratched his head. “No. I swear.”
Several looks passed between the group before Damien responded again.
“Well, I mean, I don’t think so.” He rubbed a hand over his head and face looking exasperated as he turned his phone several times in his hand like he was trying to figure out the best or worst angle of this terrible situation, much like my current life. I wondered what Kristen would say about this or if she would laugh it off like the rest of us. I know Hunter’s wife Taylor would laugh and then try hugging it out before Hunter hauled her over his shoulder like a caveman.
David shook his head before snatching the phone from his hand.
“Hey!” Damien shouted reaching for his mobile device. David held it over his head being a good deal taller than the rest of us. Chase breezed by and snatched it out of David’s hand and then tossed it to Whit who caught it like we were back on the football field circa high schools days. The phone made the rounds in the busy bar between us and patrons gave us glances while doing their own thing.
“What the fuck.” Damien waved his arms up and then planted them on his hips red faced. Neither Damien nor myself played on the team all four years and I quit before freshman year tryouts in favor of anything that kept me close to Sierra.
“Relax.” Whit teased him handing off the phone to Hunter who typed in Damien’s code unlocking the screen. Damien wasn’t having it though. A quick glance and Hunter passed it off to David again.
“Definitely not Demon dick.” Hunter grumbled chugging his beer to likely get the image out of his head. I had some bleach in the back storage closet if he was desperate.
“Of course not. Dude’s not pierced.” Damien looked a little too proud saying that for my comfort.
Chased groaned and reached over the bar uncapping a beer before chugging his also. “Things I didn’t need to know about my brother-in-law. Thanks.”
“Anytime bro.” Damien nodded at him with his typical cheeky grin.
“A shot of something strong please.” Chase motioned for Pedro who already had the makings of a Mind Eraser shot laid out behind the bar. He mixed Kahlua, vodka, and club soda before pouring a round and handing them out. David and Hunter passed, but the rest of us helped ourselves. Seriously, anything to get that image out my head would be worth it.
For a group like ours we had our moments. Some of us broke off into smaller groups and others floated in between lucky we all got along. Heck, even Damien and Evan made peace with each other after what seemed like a lifelong feud and we had subgroups dedicated to betting on who would throw down who first. David owed me fifty bucks and I owed Chase twenty and a free keg of my Winter Berry Ale. After all that, I’d never admit to kissing Damian’s now wife, Kristen. Doesn’t matter that it happened in a closet playing seven minutes in heaven in ninth grade at Becky’s birthday party because I honestly didn’t think he’d forgive me.
Damien continued to grumble good naturedly at our prodding. I asked Pedro to put in an order of nachos and potato boats to sooth his temper. Food was one way to rein him in and the easiest fix.
“You didn’t scratch your name and number on a wall somewhere did you?” I asked still wondering how a rando got his number and started sending pics of his junk. It wouldn’t have been the first time, but considering Damien’s been on his best behavior, it was odd.
“No. I haven’t done that in years, and definitely not any bars around here. In fact the only person I’ve given my number to recently was…oh fuck my life.” Damien hangs his head low and fists his fingers in his hair like he’s trying to pull it out. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.” He gets up and stomps around before slamming himself back into his seat.
“What?” We all shout waiting for him to deliver his big reveal.
Instead, Damien glared at me and pointed in my direction.
He looked like he was having a seizure or a Tourette’s moment waving his arms around as if he was attempting to wrangle his anger in. I was kind of glad he’d been mandated to those Anger Management classes but if he didn’t stop soon then I’d have to say they might have been ineffective overall.
“What?” I said stepping back. I had no idea where he was going with his accusatory attitude. “Look buddy, I didn’t give your number to anyone and definitely not some dude with a willy-wanker looking like…that!” I sputtered.
“No, but I did give my number to your girl back in Vegas. I thought if she needed to call for an emergency then she’d have someone reliable to reach.” He scowled at us. Even Evan kept his face neutral and I knew that was stretch for him given their tenuous treaty. He raised his eyebrows and cop or not if he so much as smirked the wrong way I’d hit him myself for setting Damien off.
“What the fuckery, man. I didn’t expect her to leave it on a greyhound for the world to procure.” Damian left the bar and headed for the restrooms, hopefully to cool off. The second he was out of earshot Chase and Whit started snickers and Hunter heaved a deep sigh. Evan for all he was worth chugged his beer slamming the glass down.
“I have no words. I really don’t.” Evan coughed a chuckle and Pedro placed two plates of appetizers down. Hands reached and I slapped them out of the way.
“Nobody touch the nachos. Those are a peace offering.” I said sliding them out of Evan’s reach. Hunter agreed and pushed the potato boats toward the guys on the end. I poured a fresh round of beers for everyone as Damien slid into the barstool, his shoulders hunched.
“So ah you find anything interesting in the restroom.” Hunter nudged his cousin lightly.
Damien took a sip of his beer and rolled his eyes before speaking. “In case you assholes were curious the only thing I saw in the bathroom was my giant pierced dick. I’d put it up on the wall, but I don’t want to make you cry next time you go in there.”
Hunter grunted. “Fair enough. Anything you want me to remodel. Paint? Hammer?”
“Nope.” Damien said popping the p like he wished it was someone’s face.
I leaned over the bar and snatched a nacho from what I designated as Damien’s plate. I figured since I owned the place I could at least snag a chip. “I’ll talk to Sierra.”
I crunched down and take another hoping Damien will be reasonable like I think he will be.
“It’s fine, but since she’s okay, don’t think I’m letting this go.” He pointed at me again, and chomped another chip. Damien acted like it rolled off him, but I knew he’d plan something devious. He couldn’t help himself. It would have been like asking Jim Carey to not do an Ace Ventura impression, it simply wasn’t happening. My only concern was how far he might take it. We’d all been victim to a Damien prank or two, the most recent involving dick bread thanks to Carmen letting him loose in her kitchen.
“Fair enough. Should I warn her?”
Damien clucked. “Now Andrew, what would be the fun in that?”
Yeah, I would definitely give her a heads up, but she kind of asked for it. What on earth had she been thinking? I doubted Damien would do anything too over the top. Kristen kept him pretty busy and he was more of the dad joke type these days, but I had to wonder what the dick pic equivalent punishment would be.
29
Sierra
Shower sex was interesting. It definitely wasn’t in league with horse trough sun kissed water and thick fingers pushing inside my walls interesting. No. That was an entirely different sort of thing that brought back sweet memories of what I thought was corrupting Emmett Walker but turned out to be him showing me kindness and that things didn’t have to be complicated or weird. I hadn’t expected my bus to break down in Lancaster County and I didn’t expect to be taken in by a bachelor Amish farmer who clearly hadn’t followed all
the rules laid out for him.
Thank God for small mercies, I supposed.
Shower sex was interesting in the way decaf coffee was a novelty. It’s a nice thought, tastes nearly the same, but if you’re not careful it could leave you hanging, bruised, or a little broken. As flexible as I was and as athletic as Andy tried to be there was more elbow whacking, knee jamming in his clearly one person shower.
“Sorry.” Andy mumbled wrapping his hips in a towel on his way to make coffee. I watched his back muscles ripple as he stalked away leaving the door open. I angled my head out of the shower following his path with my eyes.
“It’s okay.” I muttered washing the rest of the conditioner from my hair and then towel drying off. We could fix the shower and it wasn’t like sex was something I should have been doing with him anyway.
“You want an omelet or something?” He called from the kitchen. I shivered in the open floor plan of the loft. This wasn’t Vegas for sure and my skin pebbled reminding me that upstate New York definitely saw all four seasons. Even my nipples hurt drying off and I slipped the lace bralette over my breasts followed by a slouchy sweatshirt, non-matching satin panties, and ripped skinny jeans. My toes were in desperate need of a pedicure but I didn’t have the time to hit up CVS for polish. Yeah. The state of my finances was a rationing of beauty goods until I could get the vineyard sold.
“Sure. I could eat.” I towel dried my hair and twisted it up in a turban style following Andy into the kitchen.
He stood at the counter facing away from me. He reached above the sink for a pan in the cupboard and then into the fridge for eggs, veggies, meat, and cheese. I never really knew Andy could cook until this moment and it was nice to watch him in action. He definitely had done this before and my chest twisted wondering if he’d done this for other women. Of course he had. We’d been separated for ten years. It wasn’t like I lived a saintly life scratching the occasional sexual need to numb out the loneliness. I couldn’t exactly judge Andy for doing the same. Didn’t change the fact that I wanted to claw whatever bitch’s eyes out but I reminded myself that this was my doing.
