I have no doubt I’d get lost on the way to Chipper’s house if I weren’t following him. The dark roads he takes are away from the main ones I’ve driven. I suspect these act as a shortcut, but I only know I’m confused by the time we slow for the opening of his security gate. Once we reach the four-stall garage, Chipper opens his window and gestures for me to take the last empty spot.
The entire time I drive, I never consider the reality of moving into Chipper’s home. Once I turn off the van’s engine, the silence alerts me to how I barely know this man and I’m terrified of sex. Should I have taken this insane leap of faith?
Chipper appears at my door and leans down to my window. “Are you stuck in there?” he asks.
Yes, I’m insane to take this leap of faith, but Chipper’s more than worth any downsides that might come along.
Once I exit the van, he grabs my suitcase and then my hand. We leave behind the garage as the doors close. Inside his massive lodge-style home, I’m hit by the heat and yawn without thinking. The place feels cozy even if I can’t remember how to get back to the room I slept in.
Chipper walks upstairs, still holding my hand. “I love this house,” he says in a softly seductive voice. “I picked nearly everything inside, but I’ll change anything to make it feel like your home.”
“I don’t need you to change anything.”
“You say that now when you’re tired and feeling grateful. Soon, you’ll have shit in every bathroom, slept in every bed, and dropped food on every floor. Once that happens, you’ll think of it as your home, and you’ll need it to reflect your personality.”
“I’m not ready to think that far ahead.”
Chipper rests my suitcase on the bed before walking to the small dresser. “Dump it in here while I put your hair and tooth shit in the bathroom.”
I watch him walk away and then return, but I don’t move from the spot he left me. Drained of energy, I’m overwhelmed by every breath. This fatigue hasn’t stopped dragging me down since Mom died.
“Do you have something alcoholic to drink?” I ask as he dumps a pile of my clothes into the open dresser.
Chipper takes another armful of clothes and adds it to the first pile. Once he’s finished unpacking my things, he turns to me and grins. “Just call me Mister Booze,” he says and plants a tasty kiss on my waiting lips.
I grip his sweater sleeve and wish I could crawl into his lap the way the mini-twins do with Poet. I want to feel the kind of safety only Chipper’s arms provide.
Studying me with his hypnotic dark eyes, Chipper whispers, “Let’s head down to my stash of liquid goodies and see what will wet your whistle.”
I don’t let go of his sleeve, even when Chipper takes my other hand in his. We walk down the grand wooden staircase, past the massive family room, and into the expansive kitchen.
“I’ll need a map to get around this place.”
“In a few days, you’ll maneuver it perfectly even when drunk off your pretty ass.”
Chipper stops in a room I think is called a wine cellar. “This here is my booze bodega. I have everything from whiskey to wine to the ingredients to make any number of cocktails. So what will it be tonight, my sweet Breezy?”
Gripping his sleeve as if I might fall without its support, I shrug. “How about the moonshine you talked about at Cricket’s? The peach one.”
“Peach Pussy is what you want.”
I don’t know why the name sends me into giggles, but I’m laughing long after he pours two mini jugs full of orange liquid fire. One sip kills my laughter.
“Caca,” I mutter, unsure if I should vomit what I’ve already swallowed or drink more to pacify the scorching beast in the back of my throat.
Chipper grins at my reaction. “It’ll make your pubes grow thick and hot.”
“What?”
“That’s what Peepaw Earlham said when he gave it to me.”
“Who is Peepaw again?”
“Poet’s stepmother’s grandfather.”
“Sounds about right.”
“He’s from West Virginia. I explain everything weird he does by remembering he grew up listening to banjos. That can’t have been good for his brain.”
Chipper and I walk into the living room and relax on his plush couch. I lean against him, sip the booze again, and nearly barf on Chipper’s black sweater.
“How do I get this to stay down?” I ask, causing him to wiggle free.
I assume Chipper’s fleeing my dry heaves, but he returns quickly with two cans of soda. “Here’s how I built up my booze endurance. One sip of booze followed by one gulp of soda. Eventually, you’ll finish the booze and feel the buzz. Oh, and you’ll definitely need to piss. If you’re anything like Cricket and Bianca Bella, you’ll spend a whole fucking lot of time fucking pissing. I’m unsure the exact size of a woman’s bladder, but I think it’s as small as a kernel of corn.”
“Doesn’t it seem,” I say and gulp the soda, “like you’re doing a lot of work just to drink booze?”
“Booze is worth the effort, but I was like you once and didn’t see that truth. I believed booze wasn’t my friend. Then I got my heart broken and not just regular broken either. I’m talking teenage heartbreak which is like normal heartbreak taken to the one-hundredth insane drama degree.”
“Who broke your heart?” I ask, instantly jealous and on the verge of violence. “Is the bad woman around for me to punch?”
“Damn, that moonshine works fast,” he says, caressing my throat.
Taking another sip of moonshine, I lean on the couch and snarl at him. “Who’s the whore?”
Chipper laughs for like twenty minutes—or possibly my drunken rage distorts time. His knuckles caress my cheek, but I’m mad that a mean woman pussy person broke his heart because that means she owned his heart and I don’t want some fancy hoochie’s sloppy seconds.
“Why weren’t you good enough for her?” I ask, burping up Peach Pussy before Chipper hands me the soda can. “Did she break you and now I have what’s left? I don’t accept that. Or maybe I do. Am I broken too? Are we broken together?”
“Next time, we need to fill you up with more food to soak up the booze. It’s hitting you fast.”
“Was she better than me?” I ask, digging my nails into his hand. “Will you dump me if she comes back to you?”
“Tatum, I’m not talking about Chevelle when you’re clearly buzzed. I will say she’s not better than you, and I have no interest in being with her. The dirty details can wait until you’re sober enough to understand.”
“I hate booze,” I mutter, even while taking his jug and gulping down more moonshine.
“No need to badmouth booze. The devil’s brew brings such joy to people’s lives.”
“It makes people act stupid. Look at me right now.”
“Acting stupid is great. Without booze, I’d never have danced in the rain or gotten my tattoo.”
I let him steal back his jug of moonshine. “Do you have a tattoo of that fancy—? Wait, isn’t Bonn’s daughter named Chevelle?”
“Want to see my tattoo?”
“Is it her name?”
Rolling his eyes, Chipper pulls up his sleeve to reveal a colorful tat. I run my fingers over the inked flesh on his forearm.
“Why Bugs Bunny?”
“How would I know? Ask Mister Booze. The world is different when booze runs the show. Freer.”
“Dumber,” I say, pouting at my earlier outburst.
Chipper wraps one of his strong arms around my shoulders and has me rest my head on his chest. “Stupidity gets a bad rap. Sometimes, people need to be dumb and let off steam.”
“Is that why you drink?”
“I like feeling buzzed and laughing at how hilarious the world is while I’m drunk. I thought I might become an alcoholic, but addiction to booze never happened. Some things aren’t meant to be.”
“I should thank booze for making me too drunk to kill Howler. That’s how you met me and then all the stuff that happened afterward that I can’t remember anymore.”
Chipper turns on the TV. “Booze brought us together, so it will be the best man at our wedding.”
“What about Poet or your brother?”
“They’ll be the other guys in suits. I don’t know what their purpose is, but whatever. Let’s watch TV while we wait to see if you puke up all that Peach Pussy.”
“I’m glad I met you,” I whisper, looking up at him as I cuddle closer.
“Me too, Breezy. Now, what would you like to watch?”
“Are there any ‘House Hunters’ on?”
“Oh, I’m sure we can find an episode.”
Smiling, I rest against him and think about tomorrow. I’ll meet his parents and little brother. I’ll start my job as his assistant. Oh, and I’ll lose my virginity. That last bullet point is totally on my list whether Chipper’s ready or not.