Chapter Twenty
Eve trudged up the stairs to her apartment but hesitated when she saw the front door was cracked open.
“It’s about time you got home.” She was relieved to see her sister with her feet up on her coffee table.
“Is Mom okay? Did you get her to eat?” Eve asked.
“She had a couple bites of cheese. She’s not going to starve for a few more days.”
“Oh, gee. That makes me feel better.”
“That’s why I’m here!” Allie pretended to chirp. “To make everyone feel better.”
No, Allie’s function was usually to be the brave, honest sister. The one who mentioned the emperor might want to put something on before leaving the house. But since all hell was breaking loose, she’d had to take one of Eve’s jobs—Mom-managing—while Eve took on rearranging the Open Barrel. There was no way to get the tasting center bar fixed in time for the party.
“Have you figured out what he did, exactly?”
Eve sighed. She’d spent way too long showing pictures and explaining the issue to the guys at Home Depot that afternoon. And the guys at Ace Hardware. Aaaand the lady at Lowe’s.
“The consensus is that he should have used some sort of fancy wax that maintains the color of the aged wood. Instead, he put some sort of varnish or lacquer on it, and that’s why it turned black. Then he tried some sort of gel stain remover, and it coagulated, and then he tried some sort of horrible solvent, which is why it smells so bad in there…basically, we’re screwed, until we can get someone to come in here and start over.”
“Oh, Eve. I’m so sorry,” Allie said.
“I’m sorry, too.” She’d been so close. So close to getting it done right, and on time. But one fricking old alcoholic had blown it all. She refused to think about the young alcoholic who’d quit on her.
Obviously sensing Eve’s dismay, Allie steered the subject slightly. “Did you have any luck with tent companies?”
“I’ve got a line on a possibility in Dayton, Ohio. If they’re available, it’s gonna cost an arm and a leg to have it brought down, but it might be our only option. They’re supposed to call me back.”
“Now? It’s after business hours on Friday.”
“I know. But I’m not too proud to beg.”
“Who knew when all the colleges in the state started in the same week, there would be a run on tents for welcoming parties?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be sunny, so we could probably get away without a tent, except it’s going to be like ninety-eleven tomorrow, and if we don’t have shade, we’ll have a lawn full of sunburned drunks.”
“Mom thinks it’s not going to matter, that no one is going to come anyway.”
Eve’s cup was falling well below half full, but she wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t quit. “That’s silly. It’s a fundraiser for worthy causes. With liquor and food. What’s not to love?”
“An organizer who kicks drunks, for one thing.”
“Oh God, don’t remind me.” Eve put her head in her hand. Seeing it in person had been horrible, but knowing it was being repeated all over the world—what the hell? “Isn’t there something else stupid going on in the world right now?”
“There will be by tomorrow afternoon, I’m sure.”
“By then, it will be all over but the shouting.”
“Hey, look at it this way,” Allie said, giving Eve a hug. “I bet more people will come just to say they’ve been to a party with the Bourbon meltdown lady.”
“You’re not making me feel any better.”
Lorena had gone into a full freak out, as only she could do it. Not with wailing and gnashing of teeth. No, after her original, unprecedented outburst—which was being broadcast over the internet at a rate of a thousand views per minute—she became nearly catatonic.
“Here,” Allie said, shoving a plastic container at her. “I brought you some brown dog balls.”
Eve opened the top and took one of her sister’s nearly famous coffee and white whiskey flavored chocolate truffles. She bit into it, but the kick just wasn’t there to take the edge off of her stress this time. “You didn’t bring the bottle with you, did you?”
“Um, no…”
“It wouldn’t help anyway.”
“No. But Eve…you can’t fix everything all the time. No one expects you to be Super Woman. Why don’t you go to bed? Worst thing, tomorrow we’ll go to Walmart and buy every lawn chair and umbrella in the place.”
Eve was saved from considering that option by a knock at the door, followed by the appearance of a bristly haired head.
“Hey. You got my baby mama here?” Justin opened the door the rest of the way and entered, followed by Brandon. Both men were in Blue Mountain shirts and looked…fierce.
“What have you guys been doing?” Eve asked.
The Morgan brothers exchanged a glance.
“What?” Her stomach couldn’t get any more upset than it already was.
Brandon spoke. “It’s nothing, really. We’ve had a few visitors.”
“What kind of visitors?”
“Kids, mostly. Sneaking to the tasting center and trying to reenact the scene of the crime—er, you know what I mean.”
“That’s a thing?”
“Apparently.” Justin shrugged. “I think we got ’em discouraged, though. Caleb’s got the main entrance blocked off, and no one even knows about the back way in, so we should be okay tonight. Besides, we left the girls in charge.”
“Oh no. You didn’t.”
“Hey,” Brandon protested. “Mabel and Maude are badass!”
The two bloodhounds were bad, that was true. They were likely to slobber anyone to death who came within ten feet of them.
The rumble of a diesel engine sounded outside, and a set of headlights swept over Eve’s front window, seeming to hesitate, before the truck sped up and drove away. Toward the tasting center.
“Well, shit. I guess we’re not done,” Justin said. “Babe, why don’t you go on home, and I’ll be over after we deal with this?”
“Maybe I should stay here with Eve,” Allie said, eyeing her.
“No, you go on. You and junior there need to get some good sleep.”
Besides she didn’t want her sister to hear her cry herself to sleep. If she managed to sleep at all.
“So I’m just going to roll up here, dump you out, and disappear into the night?” Mason asked as he pulled around to the back of the tasting center.
“After you help me unload all this shit,” Nick said, indicating the stack of lumber and hardware he had in the back of the truck.
Nick had no idea if he was going to be able to get replacement wood installed for Eve’s big party, but he was willing to die trying. He sent a quick prayer to the gods of barn wood that he had enough left over to replace what needed it.
Fortunately, it only took them five minutes to unload all of the supplies. Unfortunately, he was bent over in the shadows hoisting up his tool belt, and Mason’s taillights had just about disappeared around the corner when he was jerked upright by a hand twisted into his collar. Silhouetted by the full moon, all he could see were two hulking figures with baseball bats.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Justin?”
“Who the fuck wants to—” Nick was jerked around and a flashlight shone in his eyes. “Oh. It’s you.”
He was released, and the bats were lowered, but the voice didn’t get any friendlier. Adrenaline pushing him to fight now, run and ask questions later, he forced himself to hold up his hands in surrender. “Yeah. It’s me.”
“Don’t kill him,” Brandon said. “He’d leave a stain, and there would be all that paperwork to fill out.”
“Not if no one found the body,” Justin snarled. “I’ll ask again. What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I came to finish what I started.”
“Kind of shutting the barn door after the horse is gone, aren’t you?” Brandon asked.
Taking a deep breath, Nick nodded. Now was not the time to be an asshole. Or at least, not more of an ass than the brothers Morgan already believed him to be.
“I fucked up.”
“Right…” Justin again. “What’s your point?”
Grant me the serenity to accept that some people aren’t very patient when it comes to protecting their loved ones. “I had no idea my dad was going to go off the rails like that. Not so soon.”
“But you expected him to fall apart?” Brandon asked.
“He always used to get a good two months between major binges.”
“That’s fuckup number one.” Justin held up a finger. “So you bailed on our girl before the job was done. What was the rush?”
“I could tell you that I promised my mother I’d be home in time to fix up her classroom before the school year started, but—”
“What, she can’t hang her own alphabet pictures?” Justin sneered.
“Not very easily, no. She had a stroke a few years ago and has a hard time with balance.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, man.”
“You didn’t know. It was a lame reason anyway.” He sucked in some air. “The truth is, I’m an alcoholic, just like my father.”
“Ah hell,” Brandon said, slumping back against the wall. “That’s all she needs.”
“I know.” Nick nodded in agreement. “I’ve been sober five years, but…” He held his hands out. “You just never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. I don’t want to put anyone through the shit my mom went through with my dad. And knowing Eve’s dealt with it before…”
“And hanging around the distillery probably isn’t the best for you.” Justin sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. “So why are you back, and why in the middle of the fucking night?”
“I saw the video. If I hadn’t left before the last thing was done, it wouldn’t have happened. I can’t undo it, but I’ve got to fix what I can. I just can’t…” Was he man enough to say this in front of these two? “I’m not ready to see her again. It’s gonna hurt too much.”
There was a beat of silence, in which Brandon and Justin exchanged a very brief, but apparently significant glance.
Brandon grinned and reached to open the back door of the tasting center. “Come on, man. I think we’ve got some work to do.”
“Hang on,” Justin said, holding up his phone.
“You girls suck at watch-doggery,” Brandon said, revealing two giant, sleeping dogs just inside the door. One raised a head and woofed softly, then went back to sleep.
Nick gathered his tools and followed Brandon inside.
“Yeah, babe… No, it’s all good. Tell Eve we chased off some more kids… Yeah. I don’t think I’m coming home, though. Call me when you get back to our place and I’ll explain.” Justin tucked the phone into his pocket and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, Chief. What do you need us to do?”