Page 6 of Flying

“This is my papa’s moonshine, it’s really strong, so let me fix you a mixed drink,” he attempts to warn me, but I take the Mason jar and gulp a hefty amount down. Despite the way it burns on contact, I don’t mind.

“This is so uncomfortable,” I admit a bit apprehensively, as I stare off towards Pete who is roaming the floor. “I tried, I swear I tried.” My voice is barely above a whisper so I’m unsure if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to look up, and watch my hands as I return the jar to the polished wood bar. “I think they still take Grant’s side in the divorce, they had when we spoke last. About eight years ago I offered to come home for the holidays. Belinda said that I destroyed her family, and if I wouldn’t be willing to make amends to everyone I wronged, then I wasn’t her daughter. Neal,” I pause. I don’t even know what to say about him to anyone.

“Eventually, I realized that family wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Stef’s my family, so I’m here. Bar keep,” I tap twice at the wood beneath my shaking hands. “Refill please.”

“You sure?” he asks and I nod confidently before throwing back the final sip. Next time I will wait for him to mix it into something more flavorful.

“Will you be the first to taste test something I’ve been putting together for the party?” he asks sheepishly. Accepting the pink cocktail, I swirl the jar and sniff.

“This is pink. Very pink,” I state as if he isn’t aware.

“The Blushing Bride is what I’m calling it, made with a bunch of ingredients from the local farms. It’s a cherry-herb lemonade with a kick from the moonshine. What do you think?”

“This is amazing,” I cry out full of excitement. “What did you include here? Tell me everything.” It not only moves River off the subject of the Long family drama but allows me to push all of those awful feelings back where they belong. In the distant past. The problem of being in the same zip code as my biological donors is a problem Tomorrow’s Lily can tackle.

“Its base is Papa’s moonshine, if you had waited the first time around though it includes a cherry lemonade, basil-mint syrup, and a little soda water for bubbles. It felt like Stef—it’s traditional meets off-beat, the lemon slices reminded me of how sunny her personality is, and the cherries are from Michigan,” he explains softly.

“That’s amazing, just like where Lee’s from, and how they met at school in the Midwest. I love it, she will love it. This is amazing,” I say before finishing the glass and requesting more. As I start to feel the buzz kicking my veins up, everything feels a little softer. This town is weird, sure, but most of the time it’s the wonderful kind of off-beat that allows for ideas, art, food, and bringing people together. The regular town meetings and festivals bring out all kinds of characters, making for great people watching and daydreaming.

Frankly, even my punishment of sitting in the stocks sounds hilarious and horrible if I’m being honest. It’s not the punishment itself that bothered me; I’ve seen people volunteer to wear historical costumes and be there for tourists plenty. Shifts are short, they don’t lock it, and you get to sit on a bench watching a festival take place.

No, it was the fact that my reaction to Grant’s infidelity was worse than what he did. It was the way that he went right back to Landan, and nobody seemed to fault her for this either. Everything came back to some outdated law on the books that James Kelly refused to ignore about wives being out of line. I wonder if they ever changed those old colonial township legacies… this must be all over my face because I hear River’s husky advisory.

“Easy there, tiger, this stuff is deceptively strong. You should wait.”

But waiting has never been my strength so instead I hop off the barstool and walk around the bar to refill for myself.

seven

River

I am mesmerized by her curves, the slender muscles that she’s currently using to fight her way towards the shaker with the second Blushing Bride I intended to pour myself. Placing it on a high shelf did nothing to help the situation. Instead I got a view of Lily on tiptoe; the curve of her calves as I trailed my eyes up her legs to a full round ass I can’t help but want to grab. This is going to be an interesting night.

Despite her previous push to end the subject of her parents, she’s now part way through her third drink and anger slowly rises behind her silky somber answers. It’s as if she’s afraid of being heard, afraid of being seen by anyone. Even me.

“I made it clear, we can’t keep doing this, and if that’s all they can say to me I won’t come back. I think,” she shakes her head, eyes gazing at her sandal clad feet, “I think they were honestly relieved to be done with me. They have not tried to contact me since.” The mix of rage, sadness, grief, anxiety, and self-loathing that flowed through this confession was hard to watch, and I regret my stupidity. I shouldn’t have asked, I should have realized.

Reaching out to grab her hand, my fingers lightly skim her soft wrist. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Going alllll the way back to your original original question,” she slurs the word all, “Delia left the key out. Just need to walk Pete andme, Pete and I? Pete? Over there. I’ll crash on the couch.” She’s drifting, and I’m not sure if she realizes this is all still spoken out loud now. “Or… I’ll grab my tent and camp? Since, Nessa said if I wake her she’ll do bodily harm. I think I’m not going to be able to be quiet enough… so, yeah. I guess camping it is!” She sways and grabs for the leash a few times unsuccessfully.

“Absolutely not, you know as well as I do there’s a perfectly good apartment on the top of this building. You’ll stay here. I doubt you can walk to the girls’ house anyway.” It comes out a bit harsher than I intend, but she doesn’t seem to notice, or doesn’t seem to mind. Either way, there’s something satisfying about bossing her around that stirs all the wrong feelings for the mood of this evening. I take the car keys from her hand and make a mental note to grab her things once she’s asleep.

She takes a deep breath, inhaling with her mouth but exhaling through her nose quietly. Her heart shaped face with pronounced bronze cheeks are still dusted with light brown freckles, the familiar flecks of reddish-brown are gone from her round eyes. Her pupils suggest she’s aroused, drunk, or simply afraid to be back. As her chest heaves with each breath, her shoulders roll and her long waves of chocolate and caramel hair shift slightly with the motion. There is a debate going on inside her, it’s written all over her face. Then, out of nowhere, she slides past me around to the customer side of the bar stumbling on a chair a bit.

“Race ya!” She smirks and makes her way to the stairs, slowing slightly to run her fingers along the golden fleur de lis wallpaper. She makes it easy to admire her as she watches the light play off the gilded design. After a beat, she watches Pete take off towards the steps and follows him stride for stride—like this is part of their nightly routine.

Entering the apartment, I find Pete curled up on the couch in a little ball while Lily tries to get comfortable. She’s wrestling with her sports bra’s criss-cross straps, and as much as I’d love to see her naked this isn’t how I plan to go about it. I catch the slight glimpse of a shadow along her ribs mostly covered by material as I turn away. Does she have a tattoo? I duck into my dresser and grab an oversized bar T-shirt and toss it towards her without lookingclosely. I refuse to lower myself to crassly taking something not actually given to me.

“You can look,” she giggles, and I turn to find her wearing the shirt like a dress with her pants around her ankles. I’m convinced she’s going to trip herself and start to try to guide her towards my bed. Placing one arm around her waist, I feel her warmth radiating off her skin. She slinks towards me, and offers, “I can take the couch. This is your home.”

“Nah. Guests get the bed. In you go.” I guide her onto the mattress like I have for our friends when too drunk to do it themselves countless times. Thankful that she’s safe and laying down, I go to settle on the couch. Like most nights I close, it can take a while to unwind. Tonight, I’m not sure how I can possibly relax into sleep with Lily so close. Her lavender and chamomile scent lingers around me and it takes everything in me to avoid some really inappropriate thoughts about the woman… who just shot up like a bat out of hell from my bed and rushed by me.

“Wait! Lil, where are you going?” I’m jogging behind her down the steps, careful to close the door and keep Pete inside the apartment.

“I didn’t try your beer! I wanted to hear about it, shit!” I hear a soft knocking sound, then some stumbling steps assuming she’s rushed down the steps in her haze and potentially stumbled. Fearing the worst, I pick up the pace and am glad to find she’s sitting at the barstool from earlier in one piece.

“You need your sleep, come on,” I gently encourage her.

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