Whiskey Rebellion

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Whiskey Rebellion Page 17

by Toni Aleo


  “Do ya want to?”

  “I don’t,” I answer as her lips come down to mine. “I never want to.”

  Which is one huge problem, one that will probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Because, no matter what, Lena won’t ever be mine.

  I’m just a bartender who is on his way out.

  She’s the Whiskey Princess.

  According to everyone in this town, those two things don’t go together.

  But, like Lena, my heart isn’t listening to anything anyone has to say.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Leaning on the bar, I lay my phone on the surface as it connects to my mom’s number. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, but I have to talk to someone. Since I only talk to Lena on a daily basis and it’s about her, that just leaves my mom to talk to. Especially since discussing this with Fiona would be like stepping on a billion Legos. She is convinced that I am setting myself up for failure. That Lena will never be able to truly be with me. While I know that, I don’t want to accept it. I want to think she’d come with me, explore the world with me. But I know the truth.

  Which is why I need a reality check.

  “Hey, honey!”

  “Okay, Mom, here is how this is going to go—”

  “What is going to go how?”

  “Mom, shh, listen,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is already turning into a clusterfuck. “You aren’t allowed to ask anything, and you can’t ask me to come home. You have to wait until I’m done, and then tell me what you think I should do. Minus ‘come home.’”

  “Well, that’s unfair.”

  “I can call Tom.”

  “No way, I’m listening.”

  I hesitate. “You promise?”

  “Yes.”

  I take a deep breath as I look in the back to make sure Fiona isn’t there somehow. She is in town with Mrs. Maclaster and Novelly. They had business at the doctor’s and then had to pick some stuff up. I’ve been left to do everything here at the pub, which is no big deal since I didn’t work at the stables today. I went on a ride with Lena this morning, which I guess is why she is featuring so prominently in my thoughts. Okay, she’s always prominently featured in my thoughts, but still, I need to talk to someone.

  Because I am falling so fucking hard for her.

  “Okay, so…” I pause again, pinching the bridge of my nose harder. “I met someone.”

  When she starts to squeal, I yell, “Mom!”

  “What? I didn’t say anything!”

  “You did that girlie scream thing.”

  “Oh. So, I have to be silent?”

  “Yeah,” I decide. “Silent is great.”

  “Whatever,” she deadpans, and I know I’m being an asshole, but I don’t know what to do with what I’m feeling.

  “I met this girl, Lena. And, Mom, she’s spectacular.” A grin pulls at my lips. “I want to be with her all the time. I love talking to her, and things have been really good this last week, after some hit-or-miss kind of shit before. But I feel like I’m falling for her, and I don’t think that’s a good idea—”

  “Can I speak?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mom.”

  “Why do you feel that way?”

  “Because I’m leaving here in about a month and a half. I’m off to Scotland next, and I know she can’t or won’t come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “She has to run the family business here. Her mom is really sick—she is actually having surgery tomorrow, and they aren’t sure of her chances of coming out of it well.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible.”

  “It is.” I run my fingers along the bar, hitting the dips and cracks in the surface as I remember Lena’s face this morning during our ride. She was so upset, nervous, and I’m worried for her.

  “So, maybe wait?”

  “I can’t. I already bought my ticket. I have to leave, or I won’t.”

  “What’s wrong with not leaving?”

  I am surprised by that. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to say that.”

  “Jackson, I have never in my life heard you say one thing about a girl ever. For the longest time, I thought you were gay. Or that your father ruined you. So for this girl to mean something to you is significant.”

  “Or I just never told you about anyone ’cause you’d make a big deal about it.”

  She pauses. “Is that true?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Mom, I don’t even know what she wants.”

  “Have you asked?”

  “No, because she has so much other shit to deal with. She’s so closed off, but I know she cares for me. I care for her, but I feel we’re only supposed to be having fun, and here I am with feelings. Like an idiot.”

  “Well, Jackson, you can’t stop what you feel.”

  “I know, but is it wise to want things I can’t have?”

  “Why can’t you have them? I’m confused.”

  “Mom, you just don’t understand.”

  “Then help me. You called me, and I want to help you, honey.”

  Closing my eyes, I cover my face with my hands. Was I really about to tell her this? “She is the princess, Mom.” Silence. I hear nothing. “Mom?”

  “Shut your mouth! You’re involved with the princess there?”

  “Mom, you’re doing that screaming thing.”

  “Does this mean you’ll be a prince and I’ll be a queen?”

  “For the love of God,” I mutter as she continues to scream in joyful bliss.

  “She is the blonde, right? You know I googled them. She’s a beauty, Jackson!”

  “I know, Mom.” I exhale heavily. “Which is why I’m worried.”

  She stops screaming and then says, “Oh. Because of who she is.”

  “Everyone here talks about her all the time. Her whole family too. They are the talk of the town. Really. I feel like everyone looks at me like a fool because she’d never be with me except in bed. I don’t think she could, even if she wanted to.”

  “You could have left the bed part out.”

  “It’s true, though.”

  “So, you two just do it?”

  “No, not at all. We spend a lot of time together. Riding horses, laughing at the pub, and just exploring her land. It’s been a lot of fun. But I knew the moment I met her I was in trouble. She just has this power about her to completely seize every single coherent thought I have. She makes me crazy,” I add with a laugh. “And I don’t know if she feels the same. I mean, she cares for me, but is it more than just sex and a friendship? ’Cause I think I’m falling for her.”

  She draws in a sharp breath. “Well, that is an issue.”

  “Yeah, so I should just cut it off, right?”

  “Can you cut it off?”

  “If you told me to, I could.”

  “Please, I’ve been telling you to come home for over a year, and you won’t. You’re as hardheaded as me. You do as you please, and I think you know what you need to do.”

  “What?”

  “Be honest with her.”

  “No, you aren’t listening to me.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not staying here, I’m leaving. And while, yes, I want her to come with me, I know she can’t. One reason is that she has to do what her mom says, and the second is that I think we’re just supposed to be having fun.”

  Mom pauses. “Yes, I heard all that, and I still think you should be honest. Tell her how you’re feeling.”

  “But I don’t want to give her a reason to feel things for me when we can’t have what we want.”

  “I am so confused, Jackson.”

  “So am I! Tell me what to do.”

  “What do you want to do, honey?”

  “I want to be with her.”

  “Then be with her.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Jesus Christ, then why are you even entertaining this?”

  “Because
I want her,” I whisper. “I want it all, but I’m scared that if I let myself fall, I’ll fall hard. And then when she tells me she can’t be with me, it’ll crush me. I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Who says you have to do anything right now, though, honey?”

  “What?”

  “You’re wanting to fix all this immediately, when you don’t have to. I never understood why you were so obsessed with fixing everything all at once. Baby, you can’t. Just like you couldn’t find a quick way out of that bastard’s house, you can’t make everything better. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and figure things out as they come.”

  “I know that, Mom, and I’m not rushing anything.”

  “Yes, you are, Jackson. And I don’t want to upset you, but I hear it in your voice. You’re annoyed, but, honey, you do this. You wanted to fix your brothers when they were messing up. You wanted to fix me when I had cancer. You want everyone to be happy because you were so unhappy for so long. You’re a pleaser and, honey, I love that about you. But you know you can’t fix this so it works for you. It either does, or it doesn’t.”

  Resting my elbows on the bar, I know what she is saying is true. I don’t like it, but it’s true. The aftereffects of the shit with my dad were one of the main reasons I left. So I could live and do what I want. Not worry about anyone but myself. I’ve loved every second of it. I thought maybe I had gotten past that part in my life, but then I met a girl in London, and those assumptions all went to shit.

  “You have a little more than a month and a half. Let things play out, but be honest. Tell her you’re leaving and see how she handles it.”

  “I had said I wanted this to play out, to see where it goes. But now…”

  “Now, what? What changed?”

  “My heart is doing things I’ve never experienced before.”

  She laughs softly. “Which isn’t anything to ignore.”

  “I can’t ignore her or how I feel. Mom, she’s amazing, and so fucking damaged, but when she isn’t dwelling on her past, she’s spectacular.” When my mom doesn’t say anything for a moment, my stomach drops.

  “Damaged, you say?”

  I close my eyes. “It isn’t like that.”

  “Are you sure, honey? Are you sure you’re not just trying to fix her? That you’re not getting that confused with what you’re feeling?”

  “No,” I say quickly. “There is this pull between us. This insane, mind-blowing pull. Whenever she is near, I have to touch her. And when we do touch, it’s like fire. It’s her, Mom, not her issues.”

  She inhales gradually, letting it out slowly. “Oh, Jackson, I just don’t know.”

  “What?”

  “I worry, that’s all. But no matter what, honey, you have to be honest.”

  “Be honest.”

  “Yes, and be careful.”

  “Careful?”

  “Yes, because I worry that as soon as you feel she’s fixed, you’ll lose the feelings that prompted this call. Which might devastate her.”

  No. That would never happen.

  Would it?

  Great, more things to drive me insane.

  Of course, I’ve been thinking of everything my mom had said since I got off the phone with her. I’m not even sure how I’m working since my mind is in a whole other place. Thankfully, the pub is dead. Only a few people came in for dinner, and now I have a few stragglers in for drinks. It’s so dead that even Fiona went home, leaving me to shut everything up. My elderly buddies, though, have brought their wives in and they’re all sitting at a table, drinking and having fun. Since I have a little bit of cleaning to do, I do that between serving. But mostly, I have nothing to do.

  Until Lena walks in.

  I don’t know why it takes my breath away when she strolls into the pub, but it does. I think it may be how stunning and out of place she looks as she comes up to the bar. In the last week, she had been in almost every night except Friday and Saturday, mostly because she doesn’t want to be such a spectacle on a big night for the pub. I want to say I understand and I’m fine with it, but I miss her those nights. I miss her a lot, which is why I don’t think what my mom says is true.

  “Howya.”

  Gone are thoughts of my mom as I get lost in Lena’s blue depths. “Hey, I hadn’t expected you to come in today. Isn’t the surgery tomorrow morning?”

  She nods as she sits down, and I set a glass of Cathmor in front of her. “Yeah, eight in the morning in Dublin, which means we have to leave early, but I was shaking with nerves at the house, and I wanted to see ya.”

  I smile as she reaches for the drink, taking a swig. Placing the glass down, she reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “What are yer plans after this?”

  “Nothing really. I’m still getting used to it.”

  She nodded. “How’s the housing? Ya miss yer tent?”

  I shrug, not wanting to admit that, yeah, I do miss my tent. It got way too cold, though. We had tried to go at it one night, but neither of us wanted to get naked. It was pathetic, and I decided I never wanted to have that happen again. “I don’t get to see you anymore now that I’m in the housing. I assume you can’t let anyone see us together.”

  She waves me off. “Please. I could come.”

  “But you haven’t,” I throw back at her, and she purses her lips at me.

  “Fine, I will tonight.”

  “Will you?”

  “I will,” she says, a little grin pulling at her lips. “Better be ready for me.”

  “I’m always ready for you.”

  Her eyes swirl with lust as she runs her finger along the top of her glass. “My ma had her doctor’s appointment. Pre-op, I mean.”

  “Yeah? How’d it go?”

  “Her blood pressure is better, and with the last scan of her brain, it looks like they are going to be able to get in there and get it out with only minimal problems now. It was about sixty percent survival. Now it’s eighty.”

  My heart almost stops in my chest. “Lena, that’s wonderful.”

  “It is,” she says with a grin, but then she exhales. “Though, they don’t think her face will go back to normal.”

  “But she’ll be alive.”

  Lena nods. “Yeah, which is all that matters.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, and I don’t even realize we’re holding hands until I look down to see her fingers laced with mine. I squeeze her hand as I meet her gaze. “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

  She laughs. “Terrified.”

  “Is everyone going?”

  “Yeah,” she says as an exhale. “It’s gonna be a long surgery.”

  “Hopefully, it goes smoothly and everything comes out great.”

  “I hope so too,” she whispers. “Ya do much today?”

  I shake my head. “No, just worked and hung out here.”

  “I missed our ride.”

  “Me too.”

  She sends me a sweet grin. “I could ride ya tonight.”

  I feign shock. “Dirty girl.”

  She giggles as she leans toward me, her eyes trained on my lips. “So, I was thinking… When my ma is better, we should go to Dublin together.”

  I look at her skeptically. “Would that be allowed?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I don’t care if it is or not.”

  When she says things like that, I almost think she wants to be with me, but she’s never come out and said it. I hate how much I need verification of that, but when you hear God and everyone talking about the many men that Lena O’Callaghan has slept with, it messes with your confidence. I know it’s all shit, but still. I just want her to look at me and tell me this means something to her, like it does to me. I want her to open up to me. I want her to want to leave with me.

  But I know she can’t.

  “Hey, Jackson, we’re on our way out. Money is on the table, lad.”

  I look to Mickey and wave. “Goodnight. Thanks for coming in.”

  They all smile and wave, but I don’t
miss the way they look at Lena as they leave. Like she is a science experiment. Or maybe they’re looking at both of us like that.

  “I’ll be back,” I say, moving out from behind the bar to clean up their mess and grab my money. When I turn to head back, she’s turned around on her stool, watching me.

  “It’s super dead tonight.”

  I nod as I head to the sink with the glasses. “Yeah, all that’s left is my buddy here, Mason.”

  Mason holds his glass up, wobbling a bit on his stool. He’s seven sheets to the wind, but he has three more hours to do as he wishes. He usually only comes in once a week. But apparently, his girlfriend broke up with him, so we’re up to four nights this week. When he looks at Lena, he shows her a toothy grin that makes me chuckle. “I didn’t know you were dating normal people, princess.”

  “Ah, who’s normal nowadays?” she jokes, and I smile over at her.

  I laugh. “Plus, who says we’re dating, Mason? Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  I look at her so she’ll laugh with me, but I don’t think she finds me very funny. With her chin up at an angle, she says, “Well, ya do take me on dates, don’t ya?”

  I had been trying to cover up whatever we had, but her brows are touching and she looks hurt by my comment. Confused, I move toward her as I say, “Yeah, but I thought—”

  “Thought what?”

  I flash her a dry look. “I was trying to say that before you cut me off.”

  “Well, please excuse me. On with it, then.”

  I hold her gaze, tipping my head a bit. “I thought you wouldn’t want people to know about us. I was trying to cover for you.”

  “Why? I don’t care what people think. Do you?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Okay, so are we dating or not?”

  I’m a little taken aback, but I had wanted to know this. “Are we?”

  “I asked you first.”

  She holds my gaze, and I’m unsure what to say. I don’t want to put myself out there and have her not feel the same, but I can’t hold it in either. “I thought we were.”

  “Then what’s wrong with saying that, then?”

  I just stare at her. “Because of who you are.”

  “Who I am? So yer embarrassed of my name?”

  “No, but I thought you’d be embarrassed of me.”

  “Are ya feckin’ mad?”

 

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