Love, Chocolate, and Beer

by Violet Duke

  “Please, please, you have to do this with me.”

  His round eyes turned thoroughly perplexed. “Lo siento, no entiendo. No hablo Inglés.”

  She glared at him. “Really? You don’t speak English suddenly?”

  He blinked innocently and replied in more Spanish.

  Dani’s head flipped back. “You guys are just plain mean!”

  “Naw, we just think it’s time you saw how great you are, boss,” shrugged Vick.

  “Plus, it is Luke’s gift to you,” reasoned Sam.

  Javier shook his head with a dopey, lost smile, staying impressively in character. Another sentence in Spanish, undoubtedly a beautiful sentiment, came flowing out of his mouth before he kissed the top of her head and pushed her back into her office.

  She gave them one last pleading look.

  They closed the door in her face.

  Now alone, Dani dragged herself over to the box, took a deep breath, and gently tore open the seal of the first Valentine’s Day card.

  Dearest Dani,

  Happy Valentine’s, my dear. This is Janet Myers. You may not remember my husband Ken and me but we met you two years ago at your brewpub. My husband had just been laid off from work and our finances had gotten so tight that we ended up cancelling our long-awaited vow renewal ceremony that we’d planned to have in Sedona. We were heartbroken. As fate would have it though, we decided to have lunch at Ocotillos that day. And thank heavens we did.

  To this day, we still can’t remember how you got us to go, but somehow, you arranged for us to see your friend at the local Y to take some ballroom dance lessons later in the day. We didn’t have anything else planned so we went and had such fun. Later, when the teacher convinced us to head back to Ocotillos for dessert, we agreed, having no idea what would be in store for us.

  Even now, the sight that greeted us when we went up to your roof deck is still fresh in my memory. And like it did then, it still brings tears to my eyes. The trouble you went through to transform your deck into the beautiful white wedding landscape that evening still astonishes me. From the lights, to the flowers, to the food...it was simply magical. And with our new ballroom dancing skills, we were able to dance to our original wedding song in style, to a live band, no less.

  That night meant so much to us, Dani. I hope you know. We will forever be grateful that you gave us the vow renewal ceremony we’d always dreamed of.

  With love,

  Janet and Ken Myers

  * * * * *

  Hey there Miss Dani,

  Pete Mallory here. Alright, I’m not a mushy kind of guy, but when it comes to my wife and kids, I’ll gush like a little baby. And I wouldn’t be able to say that now if it weren’t for something that happened fifteen or so years ago.

  Back then, I’d been just another dumb hick not appreciating the love of his life. After a big fight over who knows what now with my girl, I went over to what used to be your daddy’s place, Dobson’s. I was getting drunk off my ass and even dumber still when your daddy came over and gave me the swift kick I needed.

  He sat me down and had a long talk with me about the love of a good woman and, more importantly, the love that a good man should be man enough to give her. Now, I never had a daddy like the one you had. Mine used his fists instead of his mouth to do the talking. But your daddy was something. He called my girl up for me and helped us patch things up. We musta sat in that tavern until hours after closing, but when we left, we were together again.

  We’re still married, she and I, with a son and daughter of our own. Turns out everything your daddy told us about love and families was all true, and I can’t think where my life woulda ended up if I hadn’t walked into your daddy’s tavern that night. From the sounds of it, you’re a lot like your daddy. And that’s good because there’re a lot more jackasses like me who need saving.

  You know, he told me you and your brother were why he was blessed to know love the way he did. Well, because of y’all, I’m blessed to know it too.

  -- Pete & Jill Mallory + Vinnie, age 13 & Kelly, age 9

  * * * * *

  Dani,

  It’s been many, many years. My name was Cora Rogers back when I knew you. You were my Algebra student—smart, funny, and dead-set on fixing me up with your father for Valentine’s Day. Though he and I didn’t hit it off on our date, I wanted to write to explain why that date was so very special to me.

  Your father was definitely a charmer, but unfortunately, there was just no spark. So, we spent the night talking as friends instead. Mostly about you. He was so proud of you with your big heart, and he just adored the way you took care of him every Valentine’s Day. The stories he told me truly warmed my soul.

  That night, I went home and finally opened the closet door to something I’d been hiding from for some time. Very few people knew this about me then, but when I was sixteen, I’d gotten pregnant and put my child up for adoption. Now, I never regretted doing what was best for her. Not once. But seeing how much you filled your father’s life—and trust me, you made his life so full—I began wondering if my daughter had grown into an amazing woman like yourself.

  I started thinking about her more and more until eventually I signed up for a site that reunites parents and adopted children. As it turned out, my daughter had been looking for me as well. Eleven years later and we’ve been in each other’s lives ever since. You inspired me to find her, Dani. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to be at my daughter’s wedding last Valentine’s Day.

  Wishing you all the happiness you’ve given me...

  Sincerely,

  Cora Stevens

  * * * * *

  Dear Ms. Dobson,

  This is Becca & Lance Lowry. We’re New Yorkers that visit Arizona every few years in the winter to stay with my husband’s family.

  Long story short, four years ago, my in-laws and I visited Ocotillos for dinner and had a wonderful time. We remember the night well, especially the part where you all started singing that funny drinking song and introducing a beer so good it became a delicious memory we couldn’t soon forget. With that memory still with us, last year, we all came out to Ocotillos again but were sad to find the brew we’d remembered so fondly wasn’t available.

  When our waiter told you how disappointed we’d been, you did the sweetest thing we still can’t really believe. You told us you would make the seasonal beer again just for us and that if we came back in three weeks before we headed home it’d be there waiting. I had no way of knowing if you were blowing smoke, and you had no way of knowing if we’d actually show.

  Thankfully, we both had faith in the other. When we all came back three weeks later, sure enough, you had that wonderful brew waiting—a special tiny batch you’d made just for us. It was just as good as we remembered.

  Sadly, unexpectedly, that was the last cherished memory we got to share with my husband’s father. You gifted us with that. You truly have a heart unlike any other, Dani Dobson. Thank you for being the special person you are.

  —Becca and Lance Lowrey

  * * * * *

  AND ON IT WENT.

  From long, emotional stories sent by regulars she’d known for over a decade to shorter, excited notes from couples who’d just met this past month during one of Ocotillos’ blind date nights, every Valentine’s Day card was filled with moving stories of love. Letter after letter, each one of them squeezed the tears right out of her heart.

  By the time she got to the last card, Dani was a wreck, a curled-up mess of tears. She didn’t even remember picking up the phone or dialing the number but somehow, Luke answered and swept in minutes later to hold her as she cried her eyes out.

  She’d simply had no idea all these people had been so touched by what she’d considered such small gestures. Every bit of love they’d shared with her filled her heart so much that it almost hurt.

  When she told Luke as much, his eyes turned even more adoring. “Sweetie, you have this gigantic heart filled with a downright inspir
ing capacity for love. But you’ve spent all your time giving it instead of letting yourself receive it. So now that it’s all coming back to you, your heart’s just getting a little overfull is all. Don’t worry, it’ll make room. It’s your heart, after all. It knows it has to keep up, simply for what you do for others...and who you are.”

  Irrationally, that of course made her cry even more, and through her tears, she realized that her heart did feel different. She felt different.

  Like a five-year-old pointing an accusatory thumb, her mind declared, “Luke started it.”

  He really had.

  * * * * *

  “HEY, SWEETHEART. How was work?” asked Luke, packing his laptop and the depressing projected post-lease-increase sales sheet away to make room for Dani on the bed.

  Dani threw her keys on her dresser and flung herself onto the covers beside him. “It was fine. Derek stopped by for maybe ten seconds for a take-out order. He said hi and left. I honestly don’t know what’s going on with him lately. He won’t even talk to me about it. Jonathan says it’s just about his job but I can’t help feeling like it’s about me.”

  “Give it time.” He pulled her into his arms, comforting her as best he could. “I’m sure it’s not you. Your brother just hit a rough patch. Quitting a job he was at for five years to look for a new career path can’t be easy on the guy, even if it was his choice.”

  “That’s just it. He’s not looking; he knows what path he should be on already.” With that cryptic remark, her voice shrank away, getting smaller the more obscure her words became. Soon, she seemed to be talking more to herself than him. “I just wish I could help him,” she whispered, eyes closed. “I should’ve. Not that I would’ve...” She trailed off her scattered ramblings and then shook her head, tucking her chin on his chest and ruefully refocusing her eyes on his again. “Sorry, I’m not making any sense. My brain’s scrambled tonight.”

  A wobbly half-dim smile edged her lips. “Why don’t we talk about your day instead? Rylan was telling me Quinn has a new Red and White Day promotion. How’s that going?”

  The last thing Luke wanted to do was change the subject, but her exhausted features were begging him to put a pin in their discussion and wade them over to shallower waters. He sighed and tried not to take it personally. “The promos are going as good as can be expected, I suppose. We don’t have the same traction as we did with Valentine’s Day but we’re doing well for March.” Still troubled by the sadness in her eyes, he began absently kneading his fingers down her back.

  She groaned softly. “You know, I’m getting addicted to these massages you keep giving me. If you’re not careful, I’m going to turn all diva and start expecting them every night.”

  He brightened a little then, chuckling at the impossible notion. “I’m not worried. I think last Sunday alone is proof positive that you going diva on me will never happen.”

  “Last week?” she peered at him quizzically. “Oh, hehe, the wedding.”

  “Let’s recap, shall we? The day of my friend’s wedding, you ran to the grocery store in your PJs to get a last-minute wedding card. When you got back, you took a one-minute shower and then yanked on an un-ironed dress, along with a lovely pair of rubber beach slippers—the only non-sneaker footwear I think you own. You air-dried your hair with the window down in the car on the way to the reception. Once there, you promptly helped the bartender—who you of course knew—run the bar when he got backed up, and snort-laughed when the waiter brought you wine instead of beer to drink for the bride and groom toast. After a fierce game of tag with every child at the wedding, you then sucker-bet me and dragged me out to dance horrifying NFL end zone classics like the Sprinkler, the Dougie, and the Dice Roll as your prize. Next came my personal highlight of the evening when you tossed whiskey back with my buddies while owning them in NBA smack talk. Finally, on the way home from the hotel, you begged me to get us a deep-dish pizza as a post-wedding snack, but you didn’t even let us eat it till it was cold because you attacked me in the living room and had your wicked way with me on the carpet. Twice.”

  Her whole body was shaking in hilarity by the time he was done.

  “So no, honey, I don’t think you’re ever going to go diva on me.” He grinned, perhaps even more in love with her now after the Dani highlight reel. “That doesn’t mean I won’t treat you like one though. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop spoiling you even after the seventeen Valentine’s Days. It’s too much fun. You may very well have to suffer through more foolishly romantic gifts,” he said, completely serious. “Like last-minute drives to San Diego during red tide season.”

  The reminder made her smile softly. “I still can’t believe you did that for me. Seeing that red water turn electric blue at night was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen.”

  His eyes warmed as he studied her face. “You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Rolling her eyes, she snuggled against his chest. “You’re good for my ego. I think I’ll keep you around to tell me things like that when I’m old and wrinkled.”

  He felt a sharp tug in his rib cage. Lately, Dani had been letting long-term talk like that slip out more and more, giving him hope that he knew was premature.

  It wasn’t as if Dani ever got excessively tense or even skittish with the topic. No, she would usually just laugh as if she were on a different page—or more like a totally different book. Take her giving him a spare key to her apartment yesterday for example—a milestone for most couples. Not so for Dani. She’d matter-of-factly told him that with her extra late work hours, the key was so he could let himself in on the nights he wanted to come over when she wouldn’t get home until after he went to bed. She’d meant it exactly like that, too. Practical and simple.

  Meanwhile, Luke had wanted it to be more of a big relationship moment. This thing they had was unlike any relationship he’d ever been in, so simple that it looped back around to being complex. On the surface, Dani had all the makings of a classic casual girlfriend, never planning or overanalyzing things between them. Paradoxically, she also seemed made to be the perfect wife and mother. She was kind of like a sexy girl-next-door buddy and Suzy homemaker rolled into one with her heart on her sleeve and a mild case of commitment A.D.D.

  Fascinating yet unnerving at the same time.

  Nevertheless, he could see himself with her for the long haul. The way she was handling his whole lease predicament was yet another solid check in the potential-wife column. Ever since he’d told her about his lease predicament, she’d been his rock, going above and beyond the call of girlfriend duty. Beyond just being there for him for moral support, he found out that she’d also begun sending customers his way via food specials for anyone who brings in a Desert Confections receipt. Instead of running in the opposite direction at the prospect of him being broke in a few months, she just threw herself into helping him make his business succeed. It was nice. She was the exact antithesis of the short-haul girlfriend.

  And therein lay the root of their relationship complexities.

  With their growing fame as Cactus Creek’s favorite couple, he was seeing those roots grow into thorny stems—the most recent being when an overzealous neighbor teasingly asked her if she thought he’d be ‘popping the big question’ for his seventeenth valentine.

  That’s when he saw it. The discomfort bordering on fear. No, Dani wasn’t close to being ready for him to pop any sort of question.

  But he was.

  Seeing her settle in on ‘her side’ of the bed—because they had designated sides of the bed now—he felt a sudden, deep need to know for sure.

  So he eased into his interrogation. “I always meant to ask, how come you don’t bottle your beers? You’d make a killing if you did.”

  “I swear, I get asked that every day.” Her eyes twinkled. “Call me sentimental but I inherited my dad’s views on bottling. He always said beer should be fresh from the tap, foaming in a glass at a table with friends,” she re
minisced with a smile. “I’ve always thought so too.”

  “So you don’t have grand visions of turning your beer into the next big Sam Evans?”

  She shrugged. “Nah. I like how things are now. Luckily, we’ve been successful just from in-house sales without distributing.” She gave him a thoughtful sidelong glance. “What about you? Are you aiming to give Godiva or See’s a run for their money?”

  “Honestly? No. The financial security would be nice, and it’d be great to give Quinn her own location to run. But really, I’ve always dreamed of having a crop farm like my folks have.”

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “A farm?”

  “Why, can’t you see me as a farmer?”

  She thought about it for a bit before her lips tilted to one side. “You know, I actually can. You’d make a sexy farmer. Count me in to help during harvest season.”

  His pulse sped up a bit. “Your turn. If you weren’t a brewmaster, what would you do?”

  “I’d cook,” she said definitively. “Maybe a dive restaurant, something tiny with a grill.”

  “Yeah?”

  “But I don’t think I’d ever be able to get rid of the brew bug. I’d have to at least have a small craft brew set-up with it too.”

  He leaned her back against the bed and began kissing the spot behind her ear that always seemed to muddle her mind. “You know, there are a lot of farmers who have home brewing systems. I also know of some family crop farms that have restaurants on site too.”

  “Mmm hmm,” she hummed, losing track of the conversation.

  “We could put both on a farm together.”