by K. Ryan
“Oh, it’ll be okay, Em,” she wrapped an arm around my shoulder so she could tug me closer to the brewery’s entrance. “It’s just like ripping off a band-aid. You only have to go through the obligatory meeting of his friends the first time and then after that, it’ll get easier every time.”
“Yeah, but it’s not just his friends. His dad and his uncle will be here, too,” I reminded her.
“Right, right,” she waved a hand. “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re kind—just remember that and you’ll be fine. Promise.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. In fact, it sounded like bullshit to me. Mara clearly had me confused with someone else. But, sooner or later, I had to step inside Matthews Brewing Co. and set aside as much of my own bullshit as possible. So, I let Mara lead the way and push us through the double doors to step inside the main entrance that opened up right into the tap room, where the party had clearly already started.
As we made our way through the crowd, my eyes wandered around the space, taking in every crevice with the little time I had to really enjoy it. The entire room looked like the inside of a garage with polished, shiny cement floors. Directly to my right, the horseshoe-shaped bar wrapped around the length of the room with a few bartenders flitting back and forth from the stack of taps at the center of it. The entire beer menu was hand-written in chalk on boards on the fire engine red walls and from the corner of my eye, three oversized garage doors separated the tap room from the brewhouse, where gigantic iron kettles with long pipes attached to them sat.
There was a decent-sized crowd pushed up against the bar and the only thing I recognized was Slinger’s carrot-orange hair moving around behind the bar. We must have walked in at the exact right moment because Slinger’s eyes shot up from what he was doing at the bar and he flashed me a smile, but when he caught sight of Mara at my elbow, that smile brightened mischievously as he waved us over.
“Hello ladies,” Slinger greeted us from behind the bar and it was then that I finally took in the bright red Matthews Brewing Co. T-shirt he wore.
“Hey, Slinger,” I told him and pointed at his attire. “I didn’t know you were a bartender here.”
“Correction, milady,” Slinger told me, leaning both palms onto the bar top, but his eyes darted suggestively to Mara as he spoke. “I’m the head bartender and bar manager.”
I blew out a breath and lifted my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh boy.”
Mara, on the other hand, leaned into the bar ever so slightly with a coy smile playing at her lips. At that point, I pretty much rolled my eyes at her, too.
“Mara,” I gestured towards Slinger as I spoke. “This is Finn’s roommate, Marshall, but everyone calls him Slinger. Slinger, this is my friend, Mara. I work with her at The Corner Café.”
As the two shook hands, I felt like I’d stepped out of my body and was somewhere on the ceiling, watching myself introduce my co-worker and Finn’s roommate/best friend like I’d known them for years, like they were actually my friends. It was pathetic and unsettling all at the same time. Finn...he didn’t really count. What we were wasn’t the same as friendship.
The only real friend I had right now was a cat. That counted, right?
On cue, a familiar warmth caressed my back and I turned to find Finn grinning down at me like the night was somehow complete because I’d arrived. That was just as difficult to wrap my head around as the pretense of having normal friendships with anyone who wasn’t a feline.
“You made it,” he told me as he wrapped an arm around my waist. The happiness and the pride radiating down at me was infectious and all I’d done was just show up for a party.
“I did,” I laughed and quickly gestured to Mara to deflect the intense giddiness threatening to topple the little control I had left. “This is Mara, my friend from work.”
Finn and Mara dutifully shook hands and even though Finn appeared genuinely interested in making small talk with my co-worker, Mara quickly turned her attention back to the head bartender, who was currently leaning so far over the bar to whisper in her ear he was practically lying across it. Clearly, our presence was no longer necessary and Finn made a show of rolling his eyes at me to signal as much.
I nodded my head towards the small crowd behind us. “So, I take it the presentation went well?”
“It did,” Finn confirmed, even though no confirmation was really necessary. “The Bluestone guys were all for it. We’re doing the official roll-out next month at the lounge.”
“That’s great,” I smiled proudly. “As if it could’ve gone any other way.”
One side of his face pulled apart in a playful wince. “Well, I don’t know about that, but thanks for the confidence.”
At least I was capable of brandishing confidence to someone else, even if I didn’t quite feel it myself.
“Come on,” he whispered in my ear. “Let me show you off.”
My eyes reflexively drifted down to my outfit, a Cristina-approved ensemble of dark skinny jeans, an off-the-shoulder black top, and some dangly jewelry. Half a second into my indecision, Finn’s warm breath flooded my ear again.
“You look beautiful, Em,” Finn stated matter-of-factly. “Let me introduce you to everyone, okay?”
I couldn’t have denied him even if I wanted to. With his warm hand putting just enough pressure on my back, I had to put one foot in front of the other. No getting around it now. Time to put on my social butterfly face, one I used to wear so easily, even if it wasn’t 100 percent genuine.
Tonight, I was lucky if it was even 50 percent genuine and, I guess, I had no one to blame for that but myself. I was just a walking, talking bundle of nerves that only spiked when Finn led me deep into the abyss of my social anxiety. The only thing keeping me from turning and bolting was Finn’s hand planted firmly in the small of my back and I had a sinking suspicion that was exactly why his touch hadn’t left me yet.
“Hey guys,” Finn started as soon as we joined the small circle and he gestured to me. “This is Emma.”
I waited for the inevitable awkward pause: ’this is Emma, my…’ but it never came. I was just Emma and that was okay.
I waved a little awkwardly and finally let myself take a good look at the people important enough to Finn to be here for him tonight. They were all in various degrees of casual dress, one in dress pants and a tie, and they all looked so friendly, inviting, normal...exactly the kind of people I would’ve expected Finn to surround himself with.
Finn started rattling off names, pointing to each one to help me remember who was who, and when each name was called, the name’s owner waved in greeting.
“This is Alex and his girlfriend, Heather, that’s Ethan, and Tyler and his wife, Amanda, Colin, Chase, Nick and that’s his girlfriend, Megan, and Tanner.”
“Hi everyone,” I waved again, albeit pretty awkwardly, and did my best to put on my friendliest, bravest smile despite the fact that I was two seconds away from pulling the ol’ cut and run.
Be normal, I told myself. For the love of all that’s holy...good God, just be normal.
“It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” one of Finn’s friends told me...what was his name? Tyler, maybe? “We’ve heard a lot about you—all good things, of course.”
“Good,” I laughed and it actually felt genuine, too.
“Well, it certainly doesn’t look like anything Finn told us was an exaggeration,” Finn’s friend in the tie—Chase, I think—acknowledged with a grin.
“Finn said you work at The Corner Café?” Amanda asked me. “I love that place! The pie is absolutely to die for.”
“Yes, it is,” Finn added and rubbed his stomach a little like he was picturing a piece of that banana cream right there.
“Yeah, it’s great,” I laughed. “I actually, sort of, write a blog, too.”
“What do you mean sort of?” Finn grinned down at me and then shifted his attention to his friends. “Your blog has, what, thousands of hits a day, right?�
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I shrugged sheepishly. “Something like that. It’s, um, Northern Chic. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it—”
“Oh my God!” Heather cried out. “I love that blog! I seriously check it almost everyday to look for new posts! I swear to God I won’t buy anything unless you recommended it. This is crazy!”
Oh God. Now, I was beginning to feel cornered, not to mention startled by all this sudden attention.
“I’ve actually read some of it, too,” Finn admitted with a shrug as Heather’s eyes just about popped out of their sockets.
“You got Finn to read?” Heather asked me in a low whisper.
Finn shot her a playful, exasperated look. “Hey, now, I read. Sometimes. And Em didn’t get me to do anything. I did it on my own, okay?”
Heather’s eyes only widened the size of the beer glass clutched in her hand and then her gaze flew back to me, her expression shifting between awed and disbelieving in alternating strokes.
I wished it could’ve been left at that. Things were going so well...but then Finn’s friend, Chase, just had to keep staring at me, watching me, appraising me, trying to place me. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning, where have I seen this chick before? But too polite to say it out loud, at least right now. Fortunately, I think I was also the only one to realize that Chase just couldn’t tear his eyes away from me and not in a flattering way either.
Swallowing tightly, I did my best to turn my attention back to the rest of the group, who were too busy asking Finn for the details about his presentation. I tried to listen, I really did...I wanted to hear all the details about Finn’s slam-dunk today, too, but Chase’s dark eyes still hadn’t moved on. This was deeper than scrutiny and more sinister than curiosity.
This wasn’t just my paranoia manifesting itself and playing tricks on my mind.
He recognized me. That was all there was to it.
Even if he hadn’t put all the pieces together yet, that awareness, that acknowledgment that he seemed to know me from somewhere...it was only a matter of time before all the puzzle pieces slid into place for him. Hot fear slipped down my back, turning icy cold right where Finn’s hand rested on my lower back, and even the best actress in the world couldn’t turn off the heat that burned into my cheeks.
“Well,” Heather was saying to me now. “I’m really sorry you have to live right across from this loser,” she gestured with her head towards Finn, “I can only imagine—is it football non-stop, 24/7 over there?”
At this point, I could have kissed her I was so grateful for the distraction.
“It’s not quite that bad,” I laughed and glanced at Finn, who was currently shooting that playful snarl Heather’s way. “I did see their obsession first-hand though on Sunday. It was...interesting, to say the least.”
“Oh, just wait until they all get together,” Amanda added and rolled her eyes at her husband. “This one is absolutely intolerable about the whole thing. And don’t even get me started on what happens when they all get to Lambeau. It’s chaos.”
“Embarrassing chaos,” Heather nodded ruefully. “Just you wait, Emma. You won’t want to take Finn anywhere in public on game days after you see him at an actual game. Trust me on this one.”
Finn just shook his head at me and I finally remembered what being included in a group felt like...an odd sense of deja vú clouded over me and I was suddenly transported back to how much fun I used to have with people who cared about me, with people who were my friends, back when I still had them. Back when I was still normal and able to handle these type of social situations without feeling like I needed to heave into a paper bag.
And it was somewhere around this time that I realized they’d all assumed I was Finn’s girlfriend, or at least, nearly there. Surprisingly enough, that didn’t make me want to cut and run.
“They’re exaggerating a little,” Finn murmured in my ear. “It’s not that bad.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know about that. I have watched a game with you, you know.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I apologize in advance for anything I might do or say to embarrass you whenever I get you to a game.”
“Okay,” I laughed. “So you’re serious about taking me to a game?”
The thought of being thrust into yet another social setting, this time with tens of thousands of people sent another wave of panic flooding through me. It was so irrational it wasn’t funny...like anyone in those tens of thousands of people would pay any attention. For all intents and purposes, going to a Packer game wouldn’t be that much different than walking in the crowds here in Milwaukee, but still…
“Of course,” Finn grinned down at me and equal parts of excitement and dread shot down my arms at the same time. “We’re actually trying to get tickets to the next home game in two weeks. It shouldn’t be a problem though, so mark that on your calendar, Em.”
I just shrugged and tried to play it cool, if that was even possible. “Okay.”
And against my better judgment, my eyes flicked across from me to find Chase’s dark, calculating gaze locked right on me. Now, my mind was pulling out all the stops to convince myself that I’d been way off-base before, that this was all in my head, that I was just being paranoid.
It had been so long since I’d stepped foot in a public place and been recognized that I’d forgotten what it felt like...no, that wasn’t true. I would never forget what it felt like as long as I lived. That little prickle of awareness, that cold panic sliding down your spine—there was no mistaking it.
Paranoia. That’s all this was. I was projecting. Seeing things that weren’t really there. Over-reacting and over-analyzing. Just an overactive, unhinged imagination. That was it.
Stop getting in your own goddamn way.
I just had to keep telling myself that until I actually believed it.
Finn’s touch drifted to my elbow to, thankfully, get my attention. “Hey, why don’t we head back over to the bar, okay?”
He was already leading me over there before I had a chance to nod and Finn tapped the bar top with two fingers in an attempt to draw Slinger away from my co-worker. Finally, he smirked at me and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Yo, Sling! You gonna do your job tonight or what?”
Slinger barely cast a glance our way, but Mara at least had the decency to flash me an embarrassed wince.
Finn blew out a deep breath and lifted both eyebrows at me. “Ooookay. I guess I’ll be our bartender tonight then.”
He walked around the length of the bar, rounding the corner until he was facing me from the other side of the bar top. With a flick of a wet rag over his shoulder, Finn leaned both palms against the edge of the bar, taking the bartender role pretty literally now, and winked at me.
“Since this is your first trip to our fine establishment here,” he started with a wide grin and gestured dramatically to the tap room around us, which I had to admit, really did have a breath-taking view of the Milwaukee River. “I think a tasting sampler is in order.”
“Oh, I see,” I nodded, doing my best to stifle a laugh. “Let’s sample away.”
He ducked underneath the bar for a second, clinking some glasses around, and materialized again with three smaller tasting glasses in one hand and two in the other. With a practiced flourish, he set each glass out onto the bar in a careful line then grabbed the one closest to him to fill up from the tap. He repeated this movement with ease, tipping each glass at just the right angle to keep as much foam out of the top as possible, until all five glasses stood full in front of me.
“Let’s start with something easy, something light,” Finn smiled knowingly and it probably had something to do with the uneasiness on my face at seeing all this beer lined up in front of me. He pointed at the thinnest looking beer at the end of the line. “Try this one first. It’s our pale ale.”
Was it bad form to tell him that his pale ale looked like pale piss? Probably best not to go there. Still,
I thought it was best to warn him, so I leaned my elbows on the bar, mimicking Mara’s posture just at the end of the bar, and lowered my voice low enough so only Finn could hear.
“Do I have to drink all this?”
Finn’s lips quirked up and he shifted his weight on his elbows so his mouth grazed the side of my cheek. “No, Em. Just do whatever you can handle.”
Those words alone had my eyes flicking back to find Finn staring back at me with soft, understanding eyes and if the words weren’t enough, the light, tender tone in my ear told me everything else. He understood. He felt my anxiety. He’d brought me over here to the bar not just to spend time with me, but to give me a chance to adjust to my environment.
He didn’t know any of the details, he didn’t know what the last year of my life had been like, but yet...he saw me anyway. All I’d given him was a Disneyfied tale riddled in half-truths and fantasy. And he knew it. He felt it. He didn’t push. He didn’t hover. He just let me be me at my own pace.
I think I would’ve done anything he asked in that moment. I would’ve given him anything, told him anything he wanted to know, if only he’d just keep looking at me with this acceptance. In that moment, I felt free of everything. In that moment, I knew if I pulled him aside right here in the tap room and told him everything, it wouldn’t change anything. Well, it would inevitably change somethings, but it wouldn’t change the way he was looking at me now. The way I knew he felt about me, even if it didn’t make any sense to me.
Finn gestured with his head to the small sampler glass of pale ale in front of me, that smile still playing at his lips and sending me nothing but warmth. “Well, go on now. Give it a try. See how it feels.”
So, with a deep breath, I slipped my fingertips around the glass and brought it to my lips. Cold, crisp liquid poured down my throat and from what I could tell, this one had hints of a bitter, citrus undertone I wasn’t sure I liked. When I set the glass back down, Finn cocked an eyebrow at me, waiting for my reaction.
“It’s not bad,” I lifted a shoulder. “It’s actually pretty good. I don’t know if I like the citrus and that bitter taste together though. I still like whatever we’ve been drinking at the apartment better.”
