Bourbon & Bonfires

by Andrea Johnston

  “Oh shit. I fell asleep?”

  “You did,” I reply before opening my door to come around and help her out. After helping her out of the truck I pause for a minute.

  “What?” she asks before sneezing again.

  “You’re like really pregnant.”

  “Umm, yeah. What did you think? I was only kind of pregnant?” she asks, putting her tiny fists on her hips, which pulls her shirt tighter and makes her small baby belly more prominent.

  “No, I just haven’t seen you in a few weeks. I didn’t know you looked like that,” I say, waving. God, I sound like such a moron.

  “It’s okay, Lan. It kind of happened overnight. Come on, I need to get this over with and take my afternoon nap.”

  I follow Ashton into the waiting area and while she’s checking in, I pull up my phone and tap a quick response to Jameson.

  Me: Sorry, I was driving before. I’ve got your lady, and we’re at the doctor’s office.

  Jameson: Thanks, man. Sorry about this. I just got the tire changed and will be back in town in about an hour. I’ll meet you guys at home.

  Me: Okay.

  Jameson: Tell Ashton I love her.

  Me: Yeah, no.

  I’m chuckling when Ashton takes the seat next to me.

  “Did he even let you get to the house to pick me up before he text?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to let you read this instead of repeating it.”

  “No, I’m tired. Just read it to me.” Ashton leans her head back with her eyes closed and her hands resting on her midsection.

  I no sooner than get the words “love you” out of my mouth when the door opens, and I hear Ashton’s name followed by a gasp. I follow the sound and my eyes land on the one woman I’ve been wanting to see again. And by the look on her face, I’m the last person she wants to see.

  If there was any doubt whether the flu had hit the town of Lexington, the waiting room full of patients would confirm it has. While the recommendation for the flu is always rest and fluids, Doc Burning insists anyone under twelve or over sixty come in to be checked. That’s one of the things I love about this office. Even though that rule means we’re working almost straight through with only a short break for lunch, it puts the well-being of our patients first, and that’s why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place.

  I’ve spent the last five years working in an OB-GYN office. I loved my job and my office but it wasn’t until I started here a few weeks ago that I realized how much I missed a general practice. Dr. Burning told me he was excited to have me in the office, because even though he referred most of his expectant moms to the OB-GYN in the neighboring town, it helped to have someone with that field of practice in the office. The current flu epidemic in town has had us seeing more new moms and pregnant women than usual.

  I tap the screen of my tablet, pulling up the next patient’s information before opening the door to the waiting room. I see it’s a pregnant woman who has been sick for the better part of a week. The name, Ashton Sullivan, is familiar but other than New Year’s Eve, I haven’t been anywhere except work since we moved to Lexington.

  New Year’s Eve.

  Landon.

  The Kiss.

  My fingers skirt my lips, and I smile at the memory of our kiss and the way it felt to be in his arms. Nope. I’m not going there. I shake off the thoughts before I find myself drifting into a daydream where I’m not a single divorced mother who has close to a decade in age on him. Wow, I never realized I’m a walking and talking cliché. Laughing to myself, I grip the handle to the door and open it, saying the patient’s name. The waiting room is unusually quiet minus a few sniffles here and there and when I hear a familiar voice say “love you” while looking at the beautiful brunette resting her hand on her tiny baby belly, my heart falls to my stomach.

  No, farther. It drops to my feet and I gasp. Those green eyes I found myself staring into for hours the other night look up at me. I bite my lip to avoid the tears that threaten. I shouldn’t be upset. I have no valid reason to be hurt or devastated because a man I spent a few hours with is a dirty lying bastard. I shouldn’t be sad to know the man I have thought of for days, and wondered if anyone will ever kiss me like he did, was cheating on the mother of his unborn child.

  As each thought races through my mind, the woman rises and walks toward me. When Landon doesn’t immediately stand, she turns and gestures for him to follow. I need to be professional and not find a very sharp object to stab in his leg and slowly drag it down his leg until he cries out in pain. Okay, that was a little graphic but still. Dammit.

  “Hi,” the patient says before she coughs. Her cough reminds me I have a job to do. I instruct her to follow me and stop at the scale. She laughs before turning to Landon.

  “You can go stand over there, I don’t need you seeing this number.” When she turns to smile at me, I can’t help but return the gesture. She looks exhausted, the flu will do that to you, but she’s still beautiful, and her smile is sincere and kind.

  Once I’ve noted her weight, we walk to one of the rooms. After taking her vitals and confirming her symptoms there’s a short pause when nobody is speaking, and I see Landon open his mouth to say something, so I quickly excuse myself from the room. I let Dr. Burning know the patient is ready for him and tell the other nurse I’m taking a quick five-minute break before sliding out the back door of the building into the parking lot.

  It’s only seconds before the tears I tried to avoid make an appearance. I allow only two to fall before I take a deep breath. I’m not even sure why this has me so upset. It’s probably a little flashback to finding out Dan had a girlfriend within weeks of moving out. Sure, he swears he didn’t cheat and that it “just happened,” whatever that means. Over the years I’ve accepted I’ll never know the truth, but now, seeing Landon with Ashton and knowing for a fact he did cheat, my heart hurts a little more than logic tells me it should.

  Any two people can have a connection. Chemistry. That’s what we had. Chemistry and an attraction. He made me laugh. He told me I was beautiful, and sometimes a lady just needs to hear that. Plus, having a young guy give me his undivided attention doesn’t hurt either. It’s fun to pretend for a night. To pretend I’m worth more than I feel each day.

  But, I’m more than this. I’m more than a crying cliché in the back parking lot of a small-town doctor’s office. I shake out my hands, hoping the movement will somehow rid my mind of the emotions I have. When I sufficiently exorcised the emotional demons from my body, I return to the office. Just as I turn the corner toward the nurse’s station, Ashton walks out of the room I left her in and I crash into her, almost sending her to the floor.

  “Oh gosh, I am so sorry!”

  “It was my fault. Sorry, I was distracted. I forgot my phone, and heaven forbid my baby daddy can’t reach me for five minutes,” she remarks.

  “Well, he looked quite attentive. I don’t think you have to worry.”

  She begins to say something but Dr. Burning calls to me from the doorway of one of the rooms. I tell her goodbye and to make sure she gets some rest before excusing myself to assist the doctor. For a minute I consider running back to tell her about what happened on New Year’s Eve but that’s not my story to tell. At least not today.

  I’ve never been much into exercise. Sure, when I was a teenager I participated in gym class and rode my bike everywhere. But sports? That’s a pass from me. I like watching them on television but that has less to do with the sport than the snacks and beer. But as a health professional, I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t do some sort of activity.

  After my divorce I was a high-strung mess, and the stress was enormous. Nela dragged me kicking and screaming to her Saturday morning yoga class. I lasted fifteen minutes. I was, quite possibly, the least flexible person in the room and refused to put myself through that level of embarrassment. Then the next week she took me again. And we followed that pattern for weeks. Finally, one day I didn’t need her pushing me to go, I
simply went on my own.

  I’m sure there’s a very simple explanation for why I feel so amazing after each class, but I don’t remember what it is. All I know is when I walk out of the studio after each class, I feel taller and leaner. My mind is clear, and my ability to face a new day is stronger. Today as I walk into the small studio in my new town, I hope the instructor can give me the same experience as my old studio.

  After I complete the paperwork with the young girl at the front desk, she points me in the direction of the studio and indicates a cubby setup where I can place my things. Once I’ve slipped off my shoes and powered down my phone, I find a spot under a window to lay my mat. I’m not quite set up when two blonde women walk in, chatting. They spot me and smile as they approach.

  “Hi, you must be Addison. Carrie at the front desk said you were new to town.”

  “Hi, Addy, please. Yes, my son and I just moved to town a few weeks ago.”

  “I’m Minnie, and this is Dakota. You’ll love this class. Sierra is the best. I always leave here feeling so amazing.”

  “That’s great to hear,” I say, relieved. “It’s nice to meet you ladies. Sisters?”

  They both nod and laugh. Dakota unrolls her mat next to me and, after she sits down, looks over to me. “Did you say your son? He wouldn’t happen to be under the age of six and in need of a playdate, would he?”

  “Sorry, no. He’s fourteen going on . . . well, some days going on seven and others twenty.” We all laugh and chat among ourselves until Sierra turns off the light and music fills the room. With each deep breath and exhale, I feel the tension of the week leave my body. Each muscle unravels from the tight knots they’ve formed, and by the time we come out of Shavasana, I feel like the emotions I was holding onto about Landon are gone.

  “Addy, we’re going to get coffee before we head home. Would you like to join us?”

  “Oh . . .” I hesitate as I fasten the clasp on my mat’s strap.

  “No pressure. We’re both newer to town and know how it is.”

  “It’s not that, I was actually just thinking how I could go for breakfast. I hate eating before yoga, but now that I’m limber and relaxed my body needs fuel.”

  “Oh, girl. Now you’re talking. How about we head to the diner and add some pancakes and bacon to that coffee order?” Dakota asks as she loops her arm into mine and drags me to the cubbies where our belongings are.

  “Or, Dakota, we could have a nice egg white omelet.” Minnie barely composes herself with that statement and we all laugh. “I can’t even believe those words left my mouth. Pancakes it is. Come on, ladies, we’re burning daylight!”

  This is probably a bad idea. Actually, I’m sure it’s a bad idea. But I have no other way of reaching Addison. I pull out a chair at one of the high-tops in Country Road and contemplate sitting at the bar. No, that would seem like I’m here to drink, and I’m not. It’s midday on the weekend, and the place is full of families and small groups of guys watching the post-season games on the big screens.

  After placing my order of an iced tea and steak sandwich, I sit back and wait for Taylor to appear from the back. Owen told me I was an idiot for coming here to ask Taylor for Addison’s number, but I don’t know what else to do. I knew the minute she saw me sitting next to Ashton in the doctor’s office last week she thought we were together. If I learned anything from the hours we spent together, it’s that Addison is a good person with a good heart. I can’t imagine the thought of me spending New Year’s Eve with her while my pregnant girlfriend was at home would sit well with her.

  I thought about asking Dr. Burning himself for her information, but I’d have to explain why I need it. Which would then lead to him probably telling my mom at church, and the last thing I need is for my mom having any idea there’s a woman who has piqued my interest. No, this is better. Well, it’s less complicated than involving my mother.

  When my food is in front of me, I allow myself a few minutes to enjoy my meal before I spot Taylor walking in from the back hallway. Once he’s set down the clipboard from his hand, I catch his attention, and he walks over.

  “What’s up man? Why are you sitting over here?”

  “No reason. I’m having lunch before I lock myself in my workshop. You know this steak sandwich is the best around.”

  “True story. I’m a little concerned about my physical this year. The doc is probably going to tell me to lay off the steak,” Taylor says, patting his abs. I don’t know who he’s trying to convince he’s anything but the most fit guy in town. I know he’s one of the founding members of the first CrossFit gyms in the area.

  “Whatever, man. So, I have to be honest, I’m here for another reason.”

  Before Taylor is able to respond, our own local celebrity walks in the bar and heads our direction. Spencer Garrison is a famous skateboarder to the world, but to us he’s just a kid we grew up with. When we were young, Spencer would spend the summers in Lexington with his dad but by the time we hit middle school, he was here less and less. I remember the day we were huddled around Ben’s television watching the X Games and saw Spencer on the screen. We freaked the fuck out. When he took the gold, I thought Piper and Ashton were going to have a meltdown. I still hear their screeches of how hot he was in my ears. Hell, they still screech that anytime he’s in town.

  When Spencer makes it to my table, he extends his hand in greeting. “What’s up man? How long are you in town?” I ask before tossing a few fries in my mouth. Damn the fries are on point today.

  “I’ll be here a few weeks. The renovations on my house are almost done. You were right, Taylor. Strauss does amazing work. And, unlike other contractors I’ve worked with, he’s on time and under budget.”

  We shoot the shit for a few minutes on the work being done to his house while I finish my lunch. Spencer explains he’s in town rehabbing after a minor knee surgery and he’s leaving town after the construction is done to spend time with his sister. The minute he mentions his sister, my thoughts go to the reason I’m here. To get Addison’s telephone number. I’m brought back to the conversation at hand when I hear how annoyed Spencer is. “Yeah, I told her I wanted to give her a birthday to remember. Skies the limit. I assumed she’d be like any other woman and want to go on a shopping trip. Buy those damn shoes with red soles or a million-dollar purse or something. Nope. Not my sister. She wants me to take her to some book signing.”

  Taylor and I both laugh. I can’t imagine Spencer Garrison at a bookstore, let alone a book signing. He’d stand out like a sore thumb at six feet four, tattoos, and sporting a man bun. Which, by the way, I thought went out of style a year ago. Taylor teases him for a few minutes before I interject.

  “A book signing? Is that a thing?”

  “Apparently so. Especially for romance readers. Don’t even fucking start. She’s my sister, and I love her, but this is taking that love to an all new level.”

  We laugh at his statement, and before I can ask for Addison’s number, Taylor and Spencer head to the bar where Spencer places a to-go order. The opportunity lost, I close out my tab and am standing from my seat when Spencer slaps his hand on my shoulder.

  “Hey man, I heard you have a custom furniture business?”

  “Hobby is more like it,” I reply. “Why?”

  “With this renovation, I want to have a few pieces built in, and from what I’ve heard around town, you’re the man for the job.”

  “I don’t know. I’m running my dad’s business right now, and my hobby has kind of taken a backseat.”

  “The HVAC company?” he asks, and I nod in response. “Is your dad okay? I mean, why are you running it?”

  “He’s looking to retire, and it’s kind of a given I would be the one to take over when the time came.”

  “Don’t sound too excited, man.”

  “It is what it is. But, because of that I’ve fallen behind in my projects. I really need to consider hiring someone or at least getting an apprentice to help with some of the clean up
and basics.”

  “Well, let me know if you have an opening. I’m willing to pay whatever and won’t even be around for a few months while you work.”

  I agree to keep him in the loop, and when Taylor calls him over for his order, I shake his hand and head to the bathrooms before I leave. When I finish and am heading toward the doors, Taylor calls my name. Stopping, I wait for him to approach.

  “Did I hear you tell Spencer you were looking to hire someone to help you with your business?”

  “Why does everyone keep calling it a business? Man, I make furniture and other shit to decompress from life. It’s not a business.”

  “Semantics. Look, man, this is totally out of left field but my nephew needs a job. He’s been going through some shit, and this may be something good for him. Mason is young, but he’s a good kid and needs to learn some responsibility. Plus, you wouldn’t actually have to pay him. We’ll tell him it’s a volunteer thing.”

  I laugh at his suggestion we call any job a “volunteer thing,” but then my laughter stops short when I realize he said “nephew.” Addison.

  “Your nephew?”

  “Yeah, I told you my sister moved to town. Well, part of the reason she moved was because Mason was being a little shit. Long story short, her ex is a douche and a half-assed father. She moved here so I could be a little more involved and help her out. I’d hire him but having a fourteen-year-old kid working in a bar is a big no. Let me know if you think it’s something that would work for you.”

  I don’t even hesitate when I tell Taylor to have Mason at my house tomorrow at ten o’clock. I may not have gotten Addison’s telephone number, but if I decide to hire her kid, this may be the next best thing.

  My last experience with a teenager was when I was one. While the guys and I weren’t the best kids all the time, we weren’t disrespectful little shits either. Mason Sinclair? He’s borderline rude and in need of an ass whooping. When Taylor and Mason showed up at my house this morning, the kid barely managed a “morning” before he crossed his arms and sulked to the corner of my shop. For about twenty minutes I went over what I do in the shop and my expectations for an assistant. When the kid didn’t bother to acknowledge a single word I said, I told Taylor to leave and come back in an hour.