Chapter Ten
“Honestly, Bri, they’re all starting to look the same,” Ella said as she glanced up from her phone to find her friend in yet another sexy black dress. She and Vienna had agreed to spend the day shopping for a “dress that kills,” but if she didn’t find something soon, there were going to be casualties all right.
“No. This one has a keyhole back.” Bri put her hands on her hips and twirled in the mirror.
Ella met Vienna’s eyes right before they rolled.
“Oh, you’re right. It is different,” Vienna said. “I have an idea, let’s think about whether a keyhole or the one with the single strap across the back is going to drop your date to his knees. While we’re doing that, I need a large glass of wine and food.”
Bri turned to them. “You’re mocking me.”
They both nodded.
“Change, Bri. You need to step away from the dressing room for at least an hour,” Vienna said.
“Are you sure? I’m feeling this one.”
“No, you’re not,” Ella said. “I’m with V. Lunch is calling us.”
Bri took one more look in the mirror and disappeared into the dressing room. Ella and Vienna both closed their eyes. Food was moments away.
“Do you think I can wear any of these to Perfect Annie’s christening next month?” Bri asked as she reappeared hopping on one foot and pulling the back of her shoe on the other. She’d taken to calling her new niece Perfect Annie or Brilliant Annie Pretty Face.
“Are you looking to get laid at the christening?” Vienna asked, handing Bri her purse.
Bri stopped, raised a brow, and pursed her lips. Ella shook her head and held the door open for them both.
They took their favorite table at Central Bistro and Vienna finally had her large glass of wine in hand as they looked over the menu they’d all but memorized by now.
“I’m so tired of dating, but I don’t want to be alone forever. I’m not you, Ella.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ella said.
“You’re like a professional alone person. You bring your lunch, you don’t fall asleep on your couch with Doritos stuck to your face. You’re good at being alone.”
“Well according to you, that’s because I don’t have a life and I have a strange affection for Monday.”
Bri sipped her gin and tonic. “I explained that. It was a cry for help. V, have you heard about Monday?”
Ella laughed as Sistine and Aspen came in waving and the nachos were delivered. Ella glanced around the circular booth. “Why do you think we’re all single?” she asked. All conversation stopped.
“Um… Well, technically I’m divorced, so that makes me a special kind of single,” Bri said.
“I’m dating Thad, which means theoretically I’m not single. So… because I was waiting for the love of my life and he finally showed up?”
Sistine tilted her head in an “aw” gesture while Bri’s brow furrowed.
“Oh, cut that crap out. If I thought you believed that and it wasn’t your sex trance speaking, I’d have to smack you,” she said.
“I’m single because… I don’t know how to be anything else,” Sistine said in a voice that spoke to her love of libraries. “I guess I like being alone? Is that an answer?”
The table nodded because as content as Sistine seemed, weren’t human beings meant to pair up? Christ, that’s what Ella had heard her whole life. Most of the time she too was content being single. In fact, until recently she rarely thought about it after the Marc disaster.
“Aspen?” Sistine said as if to take the focus off her.
Aspen glanced up from her phone. “Sorry. Single. Yeah, I don’t need the aggravation. I have a good thing going at work. I have the occasional date, but I like my life, my work.”
“Me too,” Ella said.
“Clearly,” Bri added.
Ella tossed a chip at her.
“I don’t think that’s true,” Aspen said, giving her phone a few more taps and slipping it into her purse.
“Don’t think what’s true?” Bri asked over the chip she was crunching.
“That work is enough for Ella.”
Ella felt the heat of the spotlight.
“I think you were consumed by work when you were at the big hospital, but now I think you want your job and other things. Isn’t that why you moved here?”
“I…Yes. I wanted something different.”
“Exactly.” Aspen dipped a chip. “So, your usual ‘it’s all about my career’ isn’t the best explanation for why you’re alone. What about Boyd?”
The table was still. Drinks midsip, a couple of mouths full. Ella felt the air rush from her lungs. This was why she didn’t discuss her personal life. This was why she’d worked hard over the past two years not to have a personal life.
“What?” Aspen said as she chomped. “He’s male and single. Ella already likes his son. Could be a good fit.”
“Why do I suddenly feel like one side of a corporate merger?” Ella asked.
Aspen shrugged.
“Boyd’s the hand laceration, right? With the cute kid,” Bri said.
Vienna woke right up. “You know, I did notice some sparks the other morning when they came in for cookies.”
This was enough. If Ella let them continue, it would be a matchmaker frenzy. “Did you? Because those sparks were from him hightailing it out of there as fast as his boots would take him.”
Bri shook her head and finished chewing. “Seemed like he stuck around for a while when his son came to visit you.”
“Mason came to the hospital again?” Aspen asked.
“Wait, I thought Mason was only thirteen,” Sistine said.
Ella closed her eyes as all four women began trading comments and filling the others in on bits of information they’d witnessed. The now empty nacho plate was cleared, Ella ordered another drink, and there was finally a long-awaited silence as lunch was delivered and they all began eating.
Bri lifted her glass in a toast. “Aspen, I love you. I’m officially off the hook as the only obnoxious and nosy one.”
The rest of the table laughed and Ella shook her head. “Couldn’t let it go, could you?”
“Oh, hell no.” Bri played with the straw in her glass. “I think Boyd is a perfect candidate.”
“For what?” Ella’s face grew warm.
“For some weekend… experiments.”
“You are so wrong. The man has a child and he can’t stand me.”
“Not true,” Aspen said.
Lord, this wasn’t going to die.
“Do you have information you need to share?” Sistine asked.
Ella hoped she still possessed some intimidation and leveled her best cold-doctor stare at Aspen. Something needed to turn this conversation around.
Aspen shrugged again, didn’t even flinch. Traitor.
“Not exactly information. Mason shares and his uncles listen. They were talking about Ella, and Boyd didn’t seem uninterested.” It felt like she was issuing a report rather than feeding the wolves, and then she returned to her phone.
“Well,” they all said as if they were launching into a musical number.
“Oh yes, this is promising. I’m wondering if you have all forgotten the rule.” Ella held up her hand, hoping like hell it still worked. It was all she had left. Aspen and Sistine appeared confused.
Bri rolled her eyes and swallowed another sip of her drink. “It’s the hand again,” she explained to them. “Dr. Ice here doesn’t discuss her personal life. Although, I would like to point out that she was the one who asked the initial question about our single status.”
“It was rhetorical. Like, let’s discuss singlehood in general, in theory. You know?”
They all shook their heads and laughed again. Vienna high-fived Bri across the table. Traitors, they were both such obnoxious traitors.
“I’m sorry if I misspoke. I certainly understand not wanting to get into the mess of pounding hearts and all of that, but if you were looking to dive in, Boyd is a good guy,” Aspen said to the table, but it was mostly directed at Ella.
“It seems that way. I’m glad I could stitch up his hand and meet Mason. He’s adorable, but I’m afraid, ladies, that the juicy gossip stops there, so let’s talk about something more interesting. Bri is going on a date tomorrow night with a former IRS auditor. Huh?”
The table erupted in laughter at Ella’s failed attempt to redirect.
“That’s right. I think he even worked in their corporate fraud department, so stay tuned for more on that hot-and-steamy developing story.”
“Has he ever audited someone famous?” Sistine asked.
“No idea, but I’ll ask.”
“That’s a pretty cool job. I mean it’s not as fun as rock god or movie star, but it’s different,” Vienna said.
“True.”
“Did you guys know that Boyd’s brother is a—”
Ella held up her hand and Aspen stopped speaking, which based on what Ella learned from Bri and Vienna was no easy feat.
“Right, no McNaughtons. Got it.”
Why was it so difficult for her to share her life with other people? Not even people, these were her friends to varying degrees. Maybe Ella had never had friends on this level. All of this circled back to hugging and connecting with people over something more substantial than credentials and accomplishments.
The conversation turned to new wedding cakes Vienna was designing and the next book club meeting. Aspen excused herself to use her phone, asking for assistance with bail if she was arrested for “murdering Patrick McNaughton.”
Bri sat back in the booth and grinned at Ella. She then gave an exaggerated inhale and exhale through her perfect lips. She drove Ella crazy with her touchy-feely crap, but somehow, she’d snuck under her skin and figured Ella out. Past what she put forward to everyone, Bri understood what made Ella who she was, and Ella supposed that’s what being friends was all about. She took a deep breath and nodded to Bri, who raised her glass and returned to the conversation.
“Practice and patience are the keys to good medicine” was her first-year professor’s motto. Today, that made more sense than ever.
Boyd had been at work since eight in the morning, save a break to pick Mason up from baseball practice, and now he was back at it again. He was almost done with his part of the to-do list before the Tap House opened. Plugging in the last string of lights that night, he prayed to all things holy that the thing lit up this time. It seemed crazy to him that one strand of lights made a difference, but Patrick assured him everything needed to be perfect. His obsessive brother hadn’t steered the brewery wrong so far, so Boyd kept at it and if nothing turned on, he’d call the electrician to come out one more time. They had a few days left until opening, and as every small business owner would declare, a lot could be done in a few days. Still, he held his breath and hit the switch.
“Yeah. That looks awesome,” Mason said, standing in the center of the restaurant and turning under the small pops of light. Boyd felt that skip in his heart again, the one that told him there would come a day when his son was grown and moving on to the challenges of his own life. The skip that said, “Slow down and drink it all in.” Boyd listened to that advice, even when Mason was younger. He held him a beat more wrapped in a towel after tub time and tried to climb out of his own head when Mason needed to talk about something exciting at school.
Boyd was far from perfect. He didn’t always have patience or the right answer. There were nights he put Mason to bed and questioned whether he had any clue what he was doing. But looking at his son now, growing taller and more confident every day, Boyd realized he must be getting some things right because his son was remarkable already. The thought made his chest swell with pride.
“Not bad, right?”
“This place is sick. Did you see Uncle Cade’s bar? There are chickens everywhere.”
Boyd smiled. “I know, he’s already calling it his office.”
“Badass office.” Mason was still looking around in awe.
“Hey, my office is cool too.”
He shook his head. “You have too many tanks and it smells funny.”
“It rarely smells.”
Mason pursed his lips.
“Half the time, fine, it smells half the time. But, I have copper.”
“Yeah, yeah. I guess those old wooden barrels are cool. I’ll give you second-best office.”
“Because Trick’s is…”
“Boring,” they both said together.
“Did I hear you guys dissing my office?” He high-fived Mason’s hand and pulled him under his arm. “I’m still taller than you, Little Man. And, I’ll have you know we bought a new printer last week. Something like 250 color sheets a minute. It’s impressive.”
Boyd and Mason rolled their eyes. Patrick released his nephew and folded his arms across his chest.
“You got them to work.”
Boyd nodded.
“Great.”
Mason sat at the bar, spinning on one of the stools. Boyd knew he was anxiously waiting for the three vintage arcade games being delivered to the back room.
“We still need napkin holders,” Patrick said, running his hand along one of the high-top tables.
“I thought Cade was putting a stack on each table with a brick on top?”
Patrick seemed confused. “I had not heard that, but I like it. Who’s picking up the bricks?”
“Not me.” Aspen flew in and plonked her laptop down on the bar. “Where’s Cade?” She was typing furiously and didn’t look up.
“Everything all right?” Patrick was somehow brave enough to ask.
“Well, now that’s an interesting question.” She flung her hair out of her face and met Patrick’s eyes. “If you are comfortable opening a tap house with only mugs, without any other glassware, then we’re good. I’ll bet people won’t mind drinking every beer out of a mug. I think Chili’s uses mugs, so that’s cool. Or”—she clapped her hands together as her crazy train pulled into the station—“maybe people won’t mind cupping their hands. Even better, we could pick up some Solo cups. Boyd, are you good with people drinking your beer from a plastic cup?”
Boyd had seen this type kind of emotional explosion from his mom before. There were no right answers, so he sat on the stool next to Mason, who had ceased spinning and was now observing Aspen like she was another species. Field research, Boyd thought.
“What are you talking about?” Patrick said, the brave or stupid soul.
“Where is Cade?” she said again, slower this time, as if they didn’t speak her brand of English.
“He went home. He was here early this morning for the refrigerator delivery. What’s going on? How are we opening a tap house without glasses? Are you talking all glasses except for the few mugs?”
“We,” she emphasized. “We were not in charge of the glasses. Remember several months ago when I found that great place in Santa Barbara and I wanted to order all of the glasses that day?”
They all nodded, even Mason.
“But no, that idea was shot down even after I got the guy to give us a volume discount.” Aspen returned to her laptop and hit enter, hard. “That wasn’t good enough, was it? No, Cade had a little friend, remember? Larson with the ‘glass design’ business, and I use that term loosely. She was supposed to provide an ‘indie vibe’ with her ‘inspired’ take on the traditional beer pints and tulips, remember? Because she had a great ‘sense of aesthetics.’” Aspen was air quoting all over the place.
“I’m assuming she’s not going to get them done. Have you found other glasses?” Patrick asked as if he was completely immune to all the quoting.
“No. I mean, I’m trying, but no one is going to fill a custom order in, what’s left?” She checked her laptop. “Four days? I’ve been trying to see if Larson managed to complete any of the order, but Cade broke up with her or, ‘let her down easy’ as you… males say.” More quoting, and even Patrick seemed a little nervous.
“So after that little plot twist, she’s not returning anyone’s calls. This”—she gestured up and down the bar—“this mess is why we don’t mix business with pleasure.” She put her forehead on the bar.
“Have you asked Sistine?” Mason asked.
Boyd was lost on how the knitting store woman could help, but after a pause, Aspen slowly raised her head.
“Her brother is a glassblower, remember?”
Aspen jumped from her stool and pointed at Mason like he’d won a game show. “You’re right.” She grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. Taking her laptop, she turned to leave, mumbling to herself and then speaking aloud as if she were holding some kind of private and mobile meeting. Maybe with the voices in her head. “We need at least three hundred, but maybe if we rent some and her brother has some we can mix and—”
“Aspen.”
She turned to Patrick. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Say your name?”
“Silence me when I’m in the middle of my mind. It’s like I’m a new puppy in your laundry room.”
Boyd laughed. They’d known Aspen since they were in junior high. She was the valedictorian of their high school. Educated at Stanford. Why she hung out with them when she could be running some Fortune 500 business was beyond him.
“I don’t have a laundry room,” Patrick said, seemingly trying to assess whether their business manager had really lost her mind. “Do you have this? Do you need anything from me?”
Aspen laughed. “When was the last time I ever needed anything? I’ll let you know in the morning. Maybe you can run by the party store for the Solo cups.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, I realize that. Thanks for the great idea, Mase.” She blew him another kiss.
Mason grabbed it and mimed tucking it into his T-shirt pocket. Boyd wondered if his son truly had issues with girls, because it sure as hell didn’t look like it.
“Wait, where do you do your laundry?” Boyd heard Aspen ask as she and Patrick both walked toward his office.
“How did you know Sistine’s brother was a glassblower?” Boyd asked when the two of them were alone.
“I ride by her knit shop on my way to baseball practice when we don’t have carpool. The other day I went in because she has this huge weaving-looking thing in her window. I wanted to check it out.”
“That led to her brother, how?”
“She gave me some sparkling water drink and some nuts. We sat and talked for a little while. She’s super cool.”
Boyd’s expression must have hinted he was still waiting for the relevant part.
“We were talking about school and girls. She told me about her brother, who lost his arm in a motorcycle accident.” Mason flinched. “He has this mechanical arm now, and I guess he crushes it with the women.”
Boyd blinked and was still lost.
“She was telling me about him, jeez. He’s different. Like me.” Mason waved his hand in front of Boyd’s face until Boyd caught it.
“Are you surveying all the villagers now?” he asked, trying to keep it light but a little concerned. “Are we asking all females for input now?”
“No, only a few.”
Boyd laughed. “Well, good save with the glasses. Maybe her brother can help.”
“I hope so. Aspen was all nuts. Women get so crazy.”
“So do men.”
“Yeah, but we don’t talk as much.”
Boyd supposed he was right. He wanted to tell him that was because most of the time men had no idea what they were doing, but that was a lesson his little man would figure out on his own. Besides, from the looks of things, Mason had it more together than all the McNaughton men combined, except maybe their dad.
The delivery truck pulled up, and Mason ran to the back room hoping to be the first one on the board for Galaga once it was plugged in. Boyd couldn’t stop thinking about the committee of female resources his son appeared to be putting together. When had all of this happened, and when would this phase end? Boyd hoped with Sistine in the picture now, it meant Mason would move on from Ella Walters. That would make Boyd’s life easier, at least that’s what he told himself.