On the Rocks

by Kandi Steiner

  “What was he like?” Ruby Grace asked. “Your dad?”

  I smiled, stealing a strawberry from her plate and popping it in my mouth. “He was the original trouble maker. I remember Mom always yelling at him for something. But, not in a way that they were actually fighting. It was more like this adorable, you annoy me but I love you anyway kind of yelling.”

  Ruby Grace smiled, running her fingers over the sand at the edge of the blanket. “So, I guess we have him to thank for the notorious Becker brothers running amok, huh?”

  “Oh, definitely. But, it’s not like we go looking for trouble,” I pointed out. “We were just taught from a young age not to put up with anything that’s wrong. So, whether that means sticking up for ourselves or for our brothers or a friend or even a complete stranger, that’s what we did. It’s what we do.” I shrugged. “Dad never raised hell unless there was something to raise hell about.”

  “Like the way Patrick Scooter was running the distillery?”

  I blanched, heart stopping in my chest as I watched Ruby Grace in a new way. She was the mayor’s daughter — young, affluent, far removed from the distillery. I knew everyone in the town had some sort of tie to Scooter Whiskey, but it surprised me that she knew anything about the inner workings of the place.

  “Yeah,” I finally managed. “Exactly like that.”

  “My dad hated it, too,” she said, dragging her index finger in a heart shape over the sand before she erased it with her palm. “He said Patrick was tarnishing the brand, taking out all the honesty and down-home history that made the whiskey special. He said Patrick was going too mainstream, trying to be something Scooter Whiskey wasn’t.”

  “That’s how my dad felt, too. And he had all these ideas about how to keep the same traditions, but liven up the brand, too. He was smart. He had research and industry surveys. He knew what he was talking about.”

  “But Patrick wouldn’t listen.”

  I nodded. “He seems to still have that problem.”

  Ruby Grace watched me for a long moment, her fingers paused in their current doodle in the sand. “The fire your dad died in… your family doesn’t believe it was an accident, do they?”

  I swallowed, watching a boat in the distance as I tried to figure out how to respond. The answer was easy — no, we didn’t believe it was an accident. But, admitting that was admitting that we had conjured some conspiracy theory, that we thought the Scooters were crooked, that someone had it out for our dad. It was essentially admitting insanity, and I didn’t want to do that — especially when Mom’s reputation and heart was on the line.

  “We believe there’s a lot we don’t know about that day,” I decided on, and before she could respond, I changed the subject to her. “What’s your dad like? It had to be kind of hard, growing up as the Mayor’s daughter.”

  A sarcastic smile spread over Ruby Grace’s face, and she rolled, splaying out on her back with her eyes on the sky above. “Let’s just say my dad felt more like a father figure than he ever did a father.”

  I frowned. “Wasn’t around much, I take it.”

  She shook her head, eyes tracing the clouds. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great dad to me and my sister. He provides for us, tells us how proud he is of us and how much he loves us. He’s like me in a way that Mom and Mary Anne don’t understand. He gets it when I need to hide away, when my anxiety spikes in a crowd. And if Mom ever needs help with parenting, he steps in, no questions asked. He helped me with my college application and essay, told me he would support me no matter what I decided to major in. And thanks to him, I’ve got the best golf game of any woman in Stratford, I’d bet.”

  She paused, regaling his great dad qualities like there was some list and as long as he had checked those boxes, she couldn’t say otherwise.

  “But,” she continued. “Sometimes it just felt like he was this mostly silent bystander and Mom was both parents. Dad’s real kid is this town, and everything that goes along with nurturing it. That’s where his time goes. That’s where his energy is spent.” She chuckled. “Well, that and the casino or any gambling event he can con the council members into.”

  “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “No,” she answered quickly, biting her bottom lip before releasing it again. “I understand it, feeling so passionate about something that you’d want to dedicate your life to it. He really looked up to Grandpa, too, and I think he always wanted to take his place. This is just what makes him happy. And I love him, I want him happy.” She rolled onto her side again. “Now, do I wish we had more time together growing up? Sure. But, I get him. And he gets me. At least, for the most part.”

  “For the most part,” I mused. “Meaning, he probably wouldn’t be cool with you going back to college after the wedding either.”

  A shadow passed over her face, and I internally cursed at myself, knowing I’d crossed over in the territory that always made her clam up and run away. She didn’t like talking about her dreams, about sacrificing those for her soon-to-be husband.

  And it seemed to be my favorite button to push.

  I was surprised when she didn’t yell at me or tell me to mind my own business as she stormed across the beach and away from me. Instead, she let out a long breath, eyes falling to the blanket we sat on before they found mine again. “I’m sure he wouldn’t exactly be thrilled, no. But, it’s more Mama than it is him. She knows what it takes to be a politician’s wife, and she’s been more than open with me about it.”

  “What exactly does it take?”

  She shrugged. “Selflessness. Passion. Love and understanding that I won’t always be the priority in his life. But, that was part of the reason I was so attracted to Anthony when we first met. He knows what he wants, and he’s driven, and smart. I love that about him.”

  My chest tightened the more she talked about him. It was the first time she’d said it — that she loved him — where I actually believed it was true.

  I hated it.

  “I think it’s amazing that you found a man like that,” I finally offered, swallowing my pride like a jagged pill. “I really do. But, and I don’t mean to say anything out of line, but I wonder if he wouldn’t support you the same — if you told him you wanted to go back to school or volunteer with AmeriCorps. You could be there for him and still be there for yourself, too.”

  Ruby Grace nodded, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah. I suppose.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  Another nod.

  “If you could look twenty years down the road on a blissfully perfect day in your future life, what would it look like?”

  She smiled, finally looking at me again. Her eyes were filled with wonder and curiosity, like I was some project she was assigned to but didn’t know where to start.

  “Hmmm…” she said, lying back again. She crossed her long legs, folding her hands over her bare navel as she watched the clouds. “It would be Sunday. After church. I’d have a huge, delicious supper spread, the table set for a family of five. My three kids would be out in the yard playing, and as I watched them from the kitchen window, my husband would come up behind me, wrap his arms around me, and ask me to dance.”

  I swallowed past the thick knot in my throat, visions of my own parents flooding my mind. And it wasn’t lost on me that in her vision, she didn’t mention Anthony, specifically.

  “What else?” I asked.

  She smiled wider. “We’d have a dog — a big one. One that would slobber everywhere and knock our toddlers down when he played with them. And our house would be country, but not like the classic southern style. It’d be eclectic, with art from all over the world, and bright colors and funky designs.”

  The more she talked, the more she lit up.

  “I think I’d like a big entertaining space in the back yard, a place to host parties and barbecues, and I’d want a little vegetable garden that I could grow my own tomatoes and squash.” She paused, her smile falling a little. “And I’d have
a charity, one that supported something I cared about… maybe earth conservation, or education in rural locations, or quality of life for senior citizens, or mental illness support for our veterans. A way to give back. A way to save someone…”

  I smirked. “I bet it’d be the most efficiently run charity in the world. Probably the most well-known, too.”

  She rolled onto her side. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because it’s you.”

  She watched me for a long moment, like she was waiting for me to continue, but I didn’t feel the need. That was all there was to say. It was her, Ruby Grace, and we both knew that anything she set her mind to, she’d not only achieve it — she’d break records, too.

  “Noah?” she whispered.

  “Mm?”

  “Can I say something… and you not ask questions when I do?”

  I considered it, curiosity overpowering any hesitation I had. “Okay.”

  Ruby Grace sat up, then, sitting on her knees as she tucked her hair behind both ears. Those kneecaps brushed the tops of my thighs where I was lying on my side in front of her, nothing between us but a half-empty container of strawberries and two bottles of water.

  She chewed her cheek, like she wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it, and her eyes watched her hand — the one braced on the blanket just a few inches from mine.

  “I don’t know if this is stupid or… I don’t know, pointless to say, but…” She blew out a breath, lifting her eyes to mine. “Thank you, for talking to me, for being my friend when you didn’t have to be.” Her brows bent together, a shade of pink tinging her cheeks. “I never feel more like my real self than I do when I’m with you.”

  My next breath lodged somewhere in my throat, stuck and swelling with every new inhale I tried to take. Her words broke me as much as they filled me with longing and hope. It should be Anthony she felt most like herself with, since he was the man responsible for the diamond glittering on her finger.

  But it was me.

  Her eyes searched mine, her body leaning forward, down, toward mine. She was so slight that even on her knees, we were nearly face to face with my head propped up on one elbow. The closer she got, the more I saw the strawberry juice stained on her lips, smelled the sweet scent of her breath as her lips parted, saw the sunburst in her hazel eyes under the glow of the sun.

  I knew in that moment that all I had to do was move toward her even an inch, and I could kiss her. I knew that if I reached out a hand, wrapped my fingers up in her red hair and pulled her into me, she would submit.

  But I didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  I’d promised her — just friends. And I would respect those boundaries until the day she didn’t belong to another man.

  Until the day she was actually mine.

  “We should go,” I whispered with her mouth inches from mine, her lids fluttering shut.

  She popped them back open, blinking several times before she pulled back, clearing her throat on a nervous nod of acknowledgement. “Yeah. Yeah, we probably should.”

  But before she could stand, I reached out, covering her hand with mine.

  I smoothed the pad of my thumb over her wrist, the smooth palm of her hand, the shiny skin over her knuckles. I hoped the touch would say everything I couldn’t.

  I feel the same way.

  I want you, too.

  I’m here, whenever you’re ready.

  I stood, wrapping her hand in mine to help her up before I released her and put the space between us again, packing up our picnic without another glance in her direction.

  The ride home in my truck was quiet, only the soft melody of my playlist and the wind whipping in from the windows the only sounds between us. Ruby Grace looked out the window the entire time, her eyes distant, mind somewhere far away.

  I let her be.

  When I pulled into the department store parking lot, parking next to where we’d left her convertible, she finally pulled her gaze inside the truck.

  “We didn’t get a thing done today,” she said, unfastening her seat belt.

  I smirked. “But do you feel better?”

  At that, she sighed, a genuine smile coloring her lips before she nodded. “I do. I really do.”

  “Then it was a successful day.”

  The sun had already set, the department store long closed, and the light from the moon above and my headlights seemed to be the only ones in the world.

  Ruby Grace reached for the door handle, but paused, looking back at me over her shoulder. “Thank you for today, Noah.”

  “Anytime, Legs.”

  She shook her head, pushing the door open and sliding out before she closed it behind her. She leaned her elbows on the edge of the window, her hair a mess, skin sun-kissed, smile lazy and sated.

  “I’ll see you around.”

  I nodded. “See you around.”

  Her smile slipped, eyes searching mine for something that I was sure she didn’t find because she tore them away too quickly, crossing her arms over her chest and walking across the lot to her own car. She slipped inside, offering me one last wave before she pulled away, turning left down the main drag that would take her all the way home.

  And I just sat there, hands on the steering wheel, eyes on my passenger seat, and heart somewhere down the road with a girl who didn’t even realize she had it.

  Ruby Grace

  “I call bullshit.”

  I smirked, holding my cell phone between my ear and shoulder Saturday afternoon as I packed up all the supplies for the centerpieces Annie and I were going to make that day. Photos of Anthony and me throughout the year had been printed, frames of the same size waiting to be filled, flowers and jars that would hold floating candles rounding out the look.

  We had a lot of crafting to do.

  And apparently, a lot of talking, too.

  “There is absolutely no way you spent an entire day in a bathing suit with Noah Becker and he didn’t put his hands on you.”

  “Not even once,” I assured her, hiding my own disappointment at that fact. I folded the top on one box before working on filling the next. “He’s my friend, Annie.”

  “Friend, shmriend. He wants you. And the way you talk about him, I think you want him, too.”

  “This is literally the first time I’ve talked to you about him, other than when you forcibly left me alone with him that night at the Black Hole.”

  “Exactly. You don’t talk about him, but you spend at least four days a week with him and have been since you got back into town. You never talked to him before you went to college.”

  “Yes, I did,” I argued. “I sat behind him in church, remember?”

  “Right. Must have been thrilling conversations between a nine-year-old and a senior in high school,” she deadpanned.

  I sighed, plopping down on my bed and surveying the half-packed boxes around me. I didn’t know why I was trying to hide it from Annie. She was my best friend. She could see through me like a jelly fish.

  But admitting I had feelings for Noah to her — to anyone — was dangerous.

  It was impossible.

  If I admitted it, I’d have to do something about it — and that something was either give him up, or give Anthony up.

  I couldn’t do the latter.

  I didn’t want to do the first.

  It was like white water rafting. I was in the raft — cold, wet, terrified. Worst case scenario, I’d get dumped, hit my head on a rock and life as I know it would be over. Best case scenario, I’d make it to the end of the river.

  Still cold and wet, but alive.

  There was no easy way out of the situation I’d found myself in, and the best way I knew how to handle it was to just avoid making a decision at all.

  Noah and I were friends. No lines had been crossed.

  Everything was fine.

  “He’s just my friend, Annie,” I told my best friend, and myself, keeping my voice low. Mama and Daddy were gone, but Anthony was downstairs,
working in Daddy’s home office.

  Not that I was talking about anything he couldn’t hear.

  At least, that’s what I told myself as I lowered my voice even more.

  “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “The fact that you have to say that…”

  “I know,” I said, sighing again. “I know. But, he makes me feel… like me. This summer has been so stressful with all the wedding planning, and when I’m with him, everything feels easier, lighter, more manageable. We have fun, even if we’re just making stupid chalkboard signs.”

  “Do you feel that way when you’re with Anthony?”

  I didn’t answer.

  A long exhale came from the other end of the phone. “Alright. Just get over here so we can talk about this, okay?”

  “I really would rather not talk about it and just make centerpieces.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to do both. Text me when you’re on your way.”

  I groaned. “Fine.”

  “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “Ruby Grace?”

  “Yeah?”

  Annie paused. “Everything is going to be okay. Okay?”

  I nodded, ignoring the way my throat tightened at her words. “Okay,” I whispered back.

  When we ended the call, I finished packing up the last of the centerpiece ingredients, heaving the first box into my arms and carefully walking it downstairs. It was heavy, and I stumbled on a step, nearly crashing to the floor and taking the fragile contents of the box along with me.

  “Shit,” I murmured, balancing the box on the railing.

  I was on the middle plateau between the two flights, and I didn’t want to chance a tumble.

  “Anthony?” I called out, still balancing the box on the railing. “Can you help me with these boxes for a second?”

  No answer.

  I frowned, looking around at my options. I didn’t want to go back up the stairs, either, so I deposited the box on the floor of the square landing, trotting down the second flight of stairs and making my way back to Daddy’s office.

  “Anthony?” I called again.