Bourbon & Bonfires

by Andrea Johnston

  Once inside, I bend and unclasp the straps of my shoes and kick them into a pile against the wall. I pad into the kitchen and set my clutch and keys on the counter as I pull out my phone and tap my messages and see one from Mason and three from Taylor. I quickly pull up the message from Mason and shoot him a Happy New Year text before scrolling through Taylor’s messages.

  Taylor: Are you still coming?

  Taylor: Addy, where are you? It’s almost midnight.

  Taylor: Okay, well Happy New Year, sis. Love you.

  I feel bad but know he was too busy to be overly worried about me. Still, I need to reply.

  Me: Sorry I missed you. Happy New Year. Dinner this week?

  Not a lie. Just a small omission that I was actually at his bar and didn’t speak to him. His response is almost instant.

  Taylor: Meatloaf?

  Me: If you insist.

  Before leaving the kitchen, I grab a glass of water and take an ibuprofen. I’m on my feet a lot for work but never in four-inch heels, my feet are going to kill me tomorrow. I walk down the hallway to my bedroom and quickly go about getting ready for bed. Once I’m settled into my bed, I pull out my journal from my side table. I started journaling when I was a teenager, and it has always been a saving grace when my mind doesn’t shut down at night.

  Last week I was on the phone with my best friend, Nela, and she made me commit to a year of positive self-talk. Each morning when I wake up, I have to write down a positive statement or word in my journal. The goal is for me to stop being so hard on myself and learn to live a happier life. Her words, not mine. Nela knows me well, and she knows this move and the reasons for it have been hard on me. She knows I’ve taken on the blame for Mason’s behavior and assumed the responsibility for most of it even if I know deep down it isn’t my fault. She reminded me of why I started journaling in the first place and swore that if she lived near us and not across the Atlantic Ocean, she would smack me upside the head instead of forcing me to journal.

  Since it’s after midnight, I’m going to consider this my first entry of the new year. I’m going to start this one easily: Embrace a new experience.

  Kissing a virtual stranger on a dancefloor at midnight qualifies as a new experience and I sure did embrace it. Look at me taking this new year by the balls.

  “And then Jordy found a video of some dude freezing bubbles. It was the coolest. He’d just take the bubbles, blow them like normal. Except,” he says, taking a deep breath, “except, they froze! We tried it too and totally rocked it. Jordy’s dad kept talking about science and learning. I told him if science was like that I wouldn’t have a C.”

  Hearing the enthusiasm and joy in my son’s voice has been music to my ears. For the first hour of this drive. Now, he’s retelling stories, and I kind of miss the brooding teenage angst he had going on. I know, beggars can’t be choosers and all that. But hell, this kid hasn’t stopped talking.

  The minute I saw him at the pickup spot, I knew he had a good time, and this time with his friend was exactly what he needed to help get him back to who he was. Who he is. Finally, golden arches. Maybe if I buy him food he’ll at least remember a new story from the trip.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving. Oh, I could go for a burger and fries. Can we stop?”

  “You bet. Let’s get out and stretch our legs a bit.”

  Mason and I order our meals and settle into a booth for a quick lunch. As usual, he’s done in half the time it takes me. I don’t even know if teenagers taste their food the way he eats. The food accomplished what I’d hoped and instead of another rendition of “this cool thing happened,” Mason talks a little about his new school and how bored he is not having any friends.

  “Well, I think you should join a club or something. Maybe it’s not too late to try out for a sport?” I ask, but by the expression on his face, I can tell that was the wrong suggestion. “Or not. Maybe a job. You said something about a job before. Let’s talk to Uncle Taylor tonight. Maybe he knows someone hiring.”

  “I’m not old enough. I told you that already.” And there’s my sarcastic and snappy son. I guess the joyous version was short-lived. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s get going.”

  By the time I pull into our driveaway, Mason has withdrawn a little more, and I find myself questioning whether my decision to move him from his friends was the right one. Of course, if he was still hanging out with Jordy most of the time, he probably wouldn’t have been in as much trouble. No, this was for the best.

  “Mom?” Mason calls as I set my purse on the kitchen counter and start toward the laundry room.

  “Yeah, kiddo?”

  “Did Dad call you?” Mason’s voice drops, sadness lacing each word.

  “No, why? Is something wrong?”

  “No. I just thought he might have called by now.”

  “Oh Mason,” I begin stepping toward him. With his shoulders hunched over, he looks defeated. I pull him to me and force a hug on him, one he reluctantly returns. “I’m sorry he didn’t call. I’m sure he’s busy. But it’s okay, you had fun with Jordy and still have a few days left of your break. Think positive.”

  “Oh geez. Did Aunt Nela make you do a positive list too?”

  I laugh and Mason smiles back. “She did. I’m on day two. How about you?”

  “Uh, well vacation counts as a valid excuse to be behind, right?”

  “I think it does. Why don’t you drop your bag in the laundry room, and I’ll get a load started while you take your gear to the garage.”

  Mason nods in response, and once again I’m cursing his father for not making him a priority. I can’t sit around and wait for Dan to get his head out of his ass. I’m going to have to find a way to help my son. Hopefully, my brother can help me figure out exactly how to do that.

  The guys want to grab a few beers as a belated New Year’s celebration, but I pass. Of course, they want to go to The Road. It’s not that I have a problem going to the bar; it’s just I’m a little concerned about seeing Taylor. I’m sure Addy told him about the kiss, and if I know Taylor, he’s probably going to want to kick my ass. Then again, if that were the case I’m sure he’d have shown up on my doorstep bright and early on New Year’s Day.

  Nevertheless, I’m not taking a chance. That’s why I counter the beer offer with poker night at my house. Before Jameson and Ashton got together, we used to have a weekly game at his house. Half the night was spent talking shit and drinking beer and the rest half-assed playing cards. But now, as each of my friends have moved on with their relationships and are building lives, those poker nights have been few and far between. Normally, we’d include Taylor in the game, but considering I’m avoiding him at all costs right now, I invited my brother instead.

  I’m putting the poker table together when Owen walks in my front door, shouting.

  “I’m not paying for the pizza, fucker.”

  “I’m a little busy. Pay the guy, would you?” I ask before tossing my wallet at his big head.

  “And tip him, you cheap bastard!”

  Owen waves me off as he pulls money from my wallet and exchanges that for a few pizzas. I finish setting the table and chairs as Owen walks in from the kitchen with a slice of pizza in one hand and two beers in the other. Extending the beers to me, I grab one and take a long pull before looking at the pizza in his hand.

  “Ever heard of a plate?”

  “Ever heard of not being a chick? Relax, man.” I watch Owen stuff the rest of the pizza in his mouth. How he landed a beautiful and classy woman like Minnie is beyond me.

  “You’re a mess. How does Minnie put up with you?” I ask as I walk toward the kitchen and pull paper plates and napkins from the pantry.

  “She’s not with me for my table manners, if you get what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah well, she’s not with you for your charming personality either.” Jameson and Ben walk into the kitchen, setting a few six packs of beer on the counter. I laugh as I tap knuckles with Jameson.
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  “You guys are dicks. Let’s get this game going,” Owen says, rubbing his hands together. “I’m feeling lucky.”

  “Wyatt should be here anytime. Pizza’s over there.”

  The guys and I go about stuffing our faces with pizza and catching up on work when my brother finally walks through the door. Apologetic as usual, we wave him off when he starts to explain the reasons for being late. Everyone takes their seats, and we quickly fall into a game of Hold ‘Em.

  After an hour, Owen’s declaration of how lucky he was feeling has become the brunt of all jokes, and he’s not taking it well. Each time he folds, I swear his scowl intensifies. I call for a quick break so I can break the seal but Owen declares an adult version of musical chairs and makes us all switch spots. He’s lucky we’ve all been friends long enough to expect this and nobody pummels him.

  Twenty minutes later I hate to admit it, but the change in seats may have worked. Owen isn’t winning by any means, but he’s not losing his ass like before either. As the guys talk among themselves, I’m lost in thought of whether I should bring up Addy and see what their take is on how Taylor will react when I’m not given much choice but to talk about it.

  “So, Lan,” Jameson says, eyeing the guys before continuing. “Who was the hottie in the red dress on New Year’s?”

  I’m caught off guard and choke on beer as I take a drink. After a few coughs and a slap to the back from Wyatt, I look wide-eyed at the table. All of them are smiling like they ate the fucking canary. Dicks.

  “That’s what I thought. You’re holding out on us, man.”

  “Owen, I am not holding out. I went to The Road and hung out with a new friend. That’s it.” Not a lie.

  “Yeah, well from what I hear you did more than hangout. And for the record, we’re friends, but if you ever grab my ass like you did hers, I’m going to have to cut your nuts off.”

  We all laugh at that and I pause before saying anything. These guys are my brothers, and as much as I want to avoid this topic, this is Lexington. I was stupid to think nobody would see us or say anything.

  “Fine. I was hanging out with Addison. I actually met her at your wedding, Ben.”

  “Addison? I don’t think we know an Addison. Was she there with someone? A plus one?”

  “Kind of.”

  “Dude, just fucking spit it out.” I glare at Jameson who has a huge smile on his face. He knows.

  “She’s Taylor’s sister.”

  A chorus of “oh shit” and “ouch” circle the table.

  “It’s not a big deal. I mean, we hung out. That’s it.”

  “Mrs. Larson was telling Minnie how you and . . . let me see what she called her.” He pauses in mock thought and I want to punch Owen in the face. He’s loving this a little too much. “A hot little number,” he shouts, snapping his fingers like it’s suddenly come to him. “Yeah, that’s what she called her. She also implied that the way you two danced was close enough to watching porn. Which, by the way, I never wanted to know about Mrs. Larson so thanks for that.”

  Damn small-town living. “It’s no big deal. We hung out, we danced, we shared a kiss at midnight, and then she ran like her feet were on fire. I’ll probably never hear from her again.”

  “Yeah well,” Ben begins as he stands, “what are you going to do about Taylor? I like the guy but he’s a little intimidating. I can’t believe hooking up with his kid sister is going to play out well.”

  “Older,” I reply, which causes confusion. “She’s his older sister. I’m not sure by how much but she did mention that. And her kid.”

  At the kid response, each of the guys starts laughing. I saw my brother wipe a tear from his eye because he’s laughing so hard. I fail to find humor in this and rise from my seat with the bowl of pretzels and gather the empty beer bottles. When I come back to the table with fresh beers for everyone, they’re still laughing and talking among themselves. I assume the topic is over and pick up the deck to shuffle.

  “I think you need to tell Taylor. And as much as I’m stoked about being a dad, a chick with a kid is a big deal, man.”

  “Jameson’s right, Lan. Tread carefully. Where’s the dad?” Wyatt asks. I shrug in response.

  We didn’t talk about this stuff the other night. Addy was a little evasive when I tried to broach any topic remotely personal. She did let it slip a few times that she has a son, and her reference to nineties fashion made me realize she must be a few years older than Taylor. Which means, she’s more than a few years older than me.

  We didn’t talk about age or what was happening in my life. I can only assume her past, her relationship with her son’s father, and her son are why she ran. Maybe the reality that she’d just spent her first New Year’s in Lexington with a stranger was too much for her. That’s too bad because I think I’d like to spend more time with her and get to know her. Age doesn’t matter to me and having a kid isn’t a factor. I’m not looking to be someone’s dad, but I don’t mind if there’s a kid in the picture.

  “I have no idea. We didn’t get too personal.” That comment earns me a scoff from my brother and a few waggling eyebrows. “Shut up. It was casual, we kept the conversation light. No big deal. All I really know is she moved here recently, has a kid, and referred to her ex, who by the way sounds like a complete asshole, and that’s about it. I don’t even know her last name.”

  “Well, take it from experience. Tell your buddy before he finds out you’ve got it bad for his sister.” Jameson nods his head toward Ben, who is smiling. I know for a fact there wasn’t much drama when Jameson admitted his feelings for Ben’s little sister. The fact that he’s even mentioning it is almost ridiculous.

  “Like I said, there isn’t anything to tell. Y’all act like you’ve never had a random kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve. Now, are we playing cards or are you pussies too tired and need to go home?” I tease, and they all grumble a “hell no” in response.

  An hour later, Wyatt has taken all our money, the pizza is gone, and the guys have all left me alone to clean up after them. As I’m breaking down the card table and chairs, I wonder what Addy is up to. How she’s settling in to her new place, the new town? Does she have more dresses like that red one? Would she say yes if I asked her out?

  Maybe the guys are right, and I should talk to Taylor. It’s probably better to ask him for his sister’s number than try to figure out where she lives on my own. If I need to, I could ask the Larsons. They seem to be up to speed on the comings and goings of everyone in town.

  When my dad offered me the, for lack of a better word, keys to the business on Christmas, I wasn’t sure if that was the life I wanted. Being a business owner is a lot of work and stress. Today I’ve had to deal with two late installers, field a few calls from vendors, I’m running thirty minutes behind for my own service calls. When I call one of the late afternoon appointments to let her know I’m running late, the woman tells me she needs to cancel anyway. The flu hit her house last night, and while I normally wouldn’t care, the way it’s hit people I know has me relieved for the cancellation. After telling the customer to call the office to reschedule, I realize that cancellation will allow me the time I need to get back on schedule.

  When I’m pulling out of the driveway of the last appointment, my phone rings. Picking up the phone, I look at the screen and see Ashton’s name. That’s weird. I mean, we’re all friends and have been most of our lives, but I can’t remember the last time Ashton called me. A knot forms in my stomach, hoping nothing is wrong.

  “Ash?” I ask in greeting.

  “Hey, Landon,” she says between sneezes.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need a favor. I know it’s asking a lot, but you’re my only hope.”

  “Of course, what’s wrong? Your heater not working?” I ask. We don’t get much of a winter here in Lexington but the minute the temps dip into the fifties, the need for a heater is an epidemic.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m sick. Well, obviously. I need t
o go to the doctor. I’m not eating and J’s all freaked out that not eating is bad for the baby. I tried explaining it was fine, but he’s driving me fucking crazy, so I promised to go.”

  “That’s good,” I say, still not certain why she’s calling me.

  “Yeah well, as luck would have it, Jameson went out to meet with a client and blew a tire. He can’t get back to take me in and I don’t think I should drive. I called my brother and Piper, but they have a dumb meeting at the school and since J is gone, Minnie is stuck at the office. Would you mind taking me?”

  “Of course, I will. But, wouldn’t you rather your mom take you?

  “Oh, Jesus no. Have you met my mother? She’ll demand all kinds of tests. I don’t have time for that shit. I’m sure I just need a prescription that says ‘rest and fluids’.”

  We both laugh, and I agree to come by and pick her up as soon as I drop the work truck at the shop. When I arrive at the shop, I run to my locker and swipe on some deodorant and pull on a clean shirt before rushing out to my truck to pick up Ashton. By the time I get to her house we only have a few minutes to spare before she’ll be late for her appointment.

  “Don’t worry, I already called and told them my ride was running behind. Thanks for doing this, Lan,” Ashton mumbles as she settles into the passenger seat, resting her head on the window.

  Ashton Sullivan is a beautiful girl, and one of the feistiest women I’ve ever known. But, here in my truck she looks frail and exhausted. I hear a little snore from her as we approach a red light, and I chuckle to myself. Just then, my phone signals a text. I look quickly at the sender and see it’s Jameson. The light changes before I can tap a response and I toss the phone in a cup holder and continue to the doctor’s.

  An upside to living in a small town is the fact that you can make it across town in less than twenty minutes. Which means, we’re only about four minutes late for Ashton’s appointment. I shake her gently to wake her and when she opens her eyes, they’re wide as saucers.