Whiskey Dick

by Ryan Ringbloom

  “Lisa told me you ran into Candace while you were in Miami and apparently you two rekindled a little something-something. Maybe she can go as your date instead of me.”

  “First of all, you weren’t my date, Remi.” Why does she say it like that? This is why people think twins are weird. “And nothing happened with Candace. She was just down for the bridal shower. We saw each other briefly and made small talk. That’s all.” There was no spark when I dated Candace back then and there’s definitely no spark now. The girl’s thirty and looks like she’s already had work done. The two minutes we spoke, her eyebrows were frozen as though she’d just walked into a surprise party.

  “Oo—Jax, I’m getting a call from an unknown number, I gotta take it.” And just like that, she’s gone. Disconnecting at her convenience.

  Paisley places my phone back in the cupholder. She’s quiet and I can’t imagine what’s running through her head after catching a glimpse into my life. It’s been so long since I’ve introduced Remi to someone new that I’d forgotten how crazy her first impression can be. A little Pepto humor probably seems like nothing compared to that.

  “So maybe we just silence our phones while we’re in the car from now on.” Paisley finally breaks the awkward silence. “What do ya think?”

  “I think that sounds like a good plan.” No more phone roulette.

  It may have been a bit too soon for us to meet the fam.

  It’s All Fun and Games

  “Texas. That makes it eight to five. I’m kicking your ass.” Jax squints his eyes in search for another license plate. It’s not as easy at night. “Over there. Ontario!” he exclaims, pointing at a white Accord two lanes over. “Canada is double points. You don’t stand a chance, Robins.” He uses my last name; he’s in full game mode. The competition is on.

  “It’s harder on the driver because I need to pay attention to the road,” I say with one eye on the road and the other searching, scrutinizing the cars that pass by. Wait, what’s that? Oh, Kentucky, we said that already. Shoot.

  “Or maybe I’m just better at it,” he says smugly. “I must warn you, I don’t like to lose.”

  “No one likes to lose.” I glance his way for two seconds.

  “Alabama!” he shouts.

  “Fuck, that should’ve been mine. Stop distracting me.” Two. Seconds. I looked away for two freaking seconds.

  “How am I distracting you?” He chuckles. “Don’t blame me ’cause you suck at this.” He lifts his phone up. “Quick, smile.” He clicks a selfie of us nearly blinding me with the flash.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I just want a pic, a memory of this crazy day.”

  “I look like shit.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Yes I do. Look at me.” Stringy rained-on hair and a neon green shirt are not the way I want him remembering me.

  “Paisley, I have been looking at you all day, and trust me, you look absolutely perfect.”

  My skin heats up even though I have trouble believing his words. Perfect after close to ten hours in a car? Get real. Maybe if I was dressed up, like if we were on a date and I wore my blue dress with the strappy heels, then I’d be more likely to take the compliment.

  If we were on a date then I could get my hair blown out, have Karie do my makeup, get a mani-pedi, dab on some of that fancy perfume my mom gave me for Christmas. I could splurge for some new undies and a lacy bra. In red. Oh, I could get that red set I saw online with the black satin ribbons. I think I may even have a gift card to Victoria’s Secret tucked away from like a year ago. Do they take gift cards if it’s over a year? Yeah, they should.

  “Okay fine, I’ll say it. Illinois,” Jax says, bringing me out of my hypothetical date fantasy. “I tried to give you that one but you were a million miles away. What were you thinking about?”

  “Oh, um. I was just thinking about… a gift card I forgot to use.” Technically the truth. At least part of it. Dammit, why did I let myself daydream like that?

  Get yourself together. I know it’s been a long time. I know you’re not getting any younger. I know you’re looking for the one. But Jax is not the one. Do not start liking him, you know what will happen if you do....

  “Holy crap, there’s a California plate!” Jax yells triumphantly, and I glimpse over at the handsome man next to me. “Oh Paisley Robins, I am going to crush you.”

  Exactly.

  “Remember these are yes or no questions only,” Paisley reminds me.

  We’re “taking a break” from the license plate game because after I saw Hawaii, the license plate unicorn, things got a little tense. Paisley plays to win. She suggested a new game.

  “Is it a female?” I ask the first of the twenty questions I’m allotted.

  “No.”

  “So then it’s a male?”

  “Yes.”

  “In a movie?”

  “Nope.”

  “On a TV show?”

  “Yes.”

  “A comedy?”

  “Um, no, but it can be funny.”

  “A drama?”

  “No, but it can definitely be dramatic.”

  Funny and dramatic but not a comedy or drama? What kind of show is that?

  “Is he on a reality show?” I ask.

  “Yes!”

  “Housewifey or like a competition show?”

  “Yes or no questions only,” she sings.

  “Fine. A competition show?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is he a judge or a contestant?” Shit. I catch myself and ask again. “Is he a judge?”

  “No.”

  “A contestant?”

  “Yes.”

  “A singer?”

  “Nope.”

  “Dancing?”

  “No.”

  “Is he on The Bachelor?”

  “No, but do you watch that?” Her eyes widen excitedly.

  “I’m supposed to ask the questions, not you.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she says smugly.

  “Hmmm, what other types of competition shows are there?” I think out loud and her giggle gives her away. She is baiting me again. Fucking A. “Was he on Project Runway?” I grit out.

  “Yes.” Her giggle graduates to full-blown laughter.

  “Was he the winner?”

  “Yes.” She’s hysterical.

  “Well, you said before it was Brendan or Brandon.” I play dumb. I can’t give up this easily.

  “No. I was wrong about that. Guess again.”

  “I don’t know.” I actually bite down on my tongue.

  “Oh, I think you do know, Jay Kay.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Fine, then I guess you lose.”

  “Fine, then I lose.”

  “Fine.”

  “Good.”

  “You said you don’t like losing. This must be killing you.” She’s so happy about this. Her smile is so big I think all her teeth are showing.

  “I don’t like losing,” I begrudgingly admit.

  “Then just say it.”

  Silence.

  “If you say it, you win,” she sings, taunting me.

  “What exactly do I win?”

  “Dinner. My treat.”

  “Really? Are we talking a real place or another Stuckey’s?” One roadside foot-long hot dog a lifetime is my limit.

  “An actual sitdown place, anywhere you choose.”

  “The Outback?”

  “Yes, if we find one. But first you have to say it.”

  I like to win and I like the Outback. But neither of those things is the reason I decide to cave. It’s ’cause I like her.

  “Fine. Kentaro.” I give the winning answer. “Are you happy? It was Kentaro. Not Brandon, not Ayana, it was Kentaro!”

  “I knew it. Congrats!” She roars with laughter. “You win.”

  “Did I? Because I’m not exactly feeling like a winner right now.”

  “Why is that, because you watch Project Runwa
y?”

  “For the record, my sister watches it. I—”

  “I know, I know, and you just happen to be there.” She cuts me off. “Listen, I don’t know why you think that’s a turn-off. It’s actually the opposite.”

  “So are you saying it’s a turn-on?” I can’t stop myself from saying the words suggestively.

  “I just find it charming.” I think this time when she blushes even her freckles turn pink, referred to as charming and rosy cheeks. I like what my television confession does to her.

  “Well, then I also admit, I have watched The Bachelor.”

  So it’s Not the Outback

  I can’t stop laughing at the large sombrero on Jax’s head.

  We stopped briefly at South of the Border. We had to. After fifty billboards telling us to stop, I felt like we were letting Pedro down if we didn’t.

  After a quick peruse through one of the gift shops, I bought Jax a tacky sequined sombrero for winning the license plate game. Him wearing it into the restaurant is killing me.

  “Is it strange that lime green and purple work on you?” I choke on my laughter and lean in for another sip of Diet Coke. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed this much.

  “I can make anything work.” He grabs hold of the rim and tips the straw hat toward me in a gentlemanly gesture.

  “Yes, you are a very caliente muchacho.” I say it jokingly even though the man is not wrong, he really does pull it off. He’s working the hell out of that ten-dollar sombrero.

  The waitress appears and places her tray down on a stand before serving our food. “Are you two on your honeymoon?” She smiles at us. I know why she’s asking; it’s the shirts. We’ve been getting looks and comments all day on our matching green apparel.

  “We got soaked in the rain this morning and these are shirts from the diner where we had breakfast,” I explain.

  The waitress places a plate of biscuits and gravy down in front of me, her eyes darting back and forth as if noticing the shirts for the first time.

  “I hadn’t even noticed the shirts. I was only asking because of the glow on both your sweet faces. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people so adorably in love.” She places a burger down in front of Jax. I hold my breath, not sure how to react or what to say. “Anything else I can get for ya?” she asks, folding up the table and tucking the empty tray under her arm.

  “Yes, actually.” Jax stops her. “I’ll take another water, and my wife will have another Diet Coke, please.”

  “You got it.”

  “Your wife?” I say after the waitress walks away. “We’ve come a long way since breakfast.”

  “We certainly have, darling,” he teases, removing the sombrero with a wink. Okay, forget hypothetical dating, I am now moving on to our hypothetical wedding.

  Jax is standing on the beach at sunset in a black tux and gray satin tie. His beautiful blue eyes well up when they see me. Shit, I don’t blame him. I look amazing in my fitted white gown with my veil lifting gently in the ocean breeze. But what flowers am I holding? Roses or orchids?

  “Paisley?” Jax stares at me across the table with an amused smirk. “Where do you go sometimes?”

  “You need to stop,” I say after realizing I just settled on purple orchids. I’m afraid my little fantasies and growing attraction are becoming painfully obvious.

  “Stop what?” His brows shoot up.

  “This cute, fun, flirty thing you keep doing.”

  “What’s the matter with a little flirty fun?”

  “It’s just too much and I have to go back to reality and….”

  “And what? I can’t be part of that reality? I thought we were friends.”

  “I mean we are, but—”

  “Now, you need to stop.” He cuts me off. “I want to say something, or better yet ask you something.”

  “Okay,” I say hesitantly. Suddenly I’m scared. I’m excited. I wish I had some Pepto on me.

  “Paisley, when we get home I would like to take you on a date. Will you go out with me?”

  “Really?” My heart goes wild, beating twice its normal speed.

  “Yes, really. I mean, if you’d rather we could drag this out, make it some angsty drama where we both feel this connection and an attraction but fuck it all up by overthinking and second-guessing.”

  “No… I mean yes.” I’m grinning from ear to ear. My face has never stretched this far before; it actually hurts. “I would love to go out with you.”

  “One condition.” He holds up a finger. “We forget all about last night.”

  “Already forgotten.” I cross my fingers over my heart. As far as I’m concerned it’s a fresh start for us with anything bedroom related. Yesterday was a weird, long day. The flight. The drinks. According to him, last night was a one-time fluke, and I believe him.

  “Excellent. We can make a plan and figure out a night that works for us on the way home.”

  “Perfect, and I think the Outback should somehow be involved, being we couldn’t find one tonight.” This exit seemed to have every restaurant known to man with the exception of the Outback. However, finding a Cracker Barrel was a fabulous consolation.

  “Or we can always save that for our second date and do something a bit nicer for the first.” He suggests. A first and second date. Yay! Blue dress, heels, fancy bra!

  He likes me. The waitress was right, she saw it in our faces, we have a connection. Maybe the cancelled flight, the car ride, the traffic… it was all meant to be. Just subtract the issue from last night and the argument this morning and this is about the cutest story ever. Every new couple gets dealt a few bumps in the beginning. We had ours, moved past them, and now it’s full speed ahead. And I mean that literally. Now that it’s dark and the roads are less crowded, we should make great time on the last leg of this trip back to Jersey.

  No more bumps.

  Oh, Deer

  It’s pitch dark as we speed through North Carolina. Thanks to a break in the rain and my lead foot, we’re making up for all that lost time stuck in traffic. At this rate we should be cruising into Jersey by sunrise.

  I smile to myself at the latest turn of events. My plan had been to ask her out closer to home but in the restaurant it just felt like the right moment. The waitress was right, we are glowing, maybe not from love, but there is something stirring between us. She is definitely a girl I want to get to know more. We click. She likes my non-reading, Bachelor-watching honesty, and I’m quite taken with her… her everything.

  Remi bringing up Candace got me comparing the girls of my past to this girl in my present. There really is no comparison. Paisley rises way above the rest. She turned this road trip from hell into a trip I’ll be sad to see end. I’m jumping ahead, but is there a possibility of wedding bells in our future? As in—Howie’s wedding bells. Would she make this trip again with me next month and go as my date to Howie’s wedding? I guess it all depends on how things go once we get home.

  The first few drops that hit the windshield alert us that the rain is back, and the navigation sounds a flooding alert ten miles away. Within seconds the downpours restart. I lower the volume on the radio to focus. It’s hard to see and I click on the high beams for better vision but it doesn’t help much.

  “Shit! What is that?” I veer left, barely missing a deer jetting across the interstate.

  “Watch out, there’s another one!” Paisley points to a second deer scampering indecisively in front of us.

  I swerve hard, taking us off the road and over the bumpy terrain of the shoulder into a ditch. My arm slams up against her chest protectively, staying there until the car comes to a complete stop.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, catching my breath, my foot pressed against the brake.

  “I’m fine.” She pants. “They came out of nowhere.”

  “I didn’t even see that second one.” It takes every effort to keep my voice even. Thankfully the airbags didn’t deploy from the jolt and everything seems okay. But I’m shaken. I pul
l in a deep breath for reassurance and put the car in park. I need a minute.

  Neither of us says a word; the rain hitting the soft top is the only sound. Paisley reaches for my hand. My heart rate that had started to slow down starts up again, this time even faster. I can’t even hear the rain anymore, only my heart pounding away in my ears. Moisture forms on my forehead and my palms are sweaty.

  “Jax, are you okay?” Paisley squeezes my hand.

  I am. I’m better than okay. There is only one thing on my mind. And it’s her.

  “I’m fine. I’m just thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now,” I say sincerely.

  “Then I think you should.” She leans in.

  “Get back in the car, I got this,” Jax shouts over the pouring rain as a passing car splashes past us. He hoists the spare tire from the trunk and kneels down to mount it, screwing the lug nuts back into place.

  Ten heated minutes after the deer ran us off the road, we realized the car had a flat. Actually a state trooper did. Red and blue swirling lights had broken up the best kiss of my life. If the trooper hadn’t pulled in to make sure we were okay, I’m pretty sure my feet would be touching the roof of the car at this very moment. Damn the safe roads of North Carolina.

  The officer stays in his car with the lights on, ensuring we’re safe and seen by other drivers while Jax changes the tire.

  “I can help.” I try lifting the flat tire. It’s heavier than it looks and I lose my grip on the slippery rubber, sending it crashing back down.

  “Really, I got this, you get in the car.” He opens the passenger door, urging me back in. “Two more minutes and we’ll be back on the road.”

  Another setback. It’s well after midnight and we’re still so far from home. I adjust the heat in the car, cold rain once again taking its toll, but it takes forever to kick in. Right now, the memory of that kiss is the only thing keeping me warm.

  The trunk slams shut and two seconds later, Jax hops into the driver seat, soaking wet. He attempts to raise the heat but it’s already blasting at the highest setting.