Page 4 of Just the Tipsy
“Oh.”
The silence between us could not be more deafening. It’s like we’re in one of those rooms that absorbs all sounds and drivesthe people inside insane because all they can hear is their blood coursing through their veins.
I think both of us want to die. Why can’t the universe have mercy and take a swipe at both of us?
“Uh, gotta go,” Waylon says. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
I get Sadie buckled into her car harness and hop into the driver’s seat, taking a deep breath to try to diffuse the unpleasant embarrassment rushing through my veins. Once I pull it together, I put the address for the house into my GPS.
The house isn’t too far from town, which is nice, and all of the houses are somewhat far apart, but not so far that I’d feel too isolated. The front yard is huge and overgrown, with some out of control plants along the front porch of the house. All in all, it’s cuter than I thought it would be. I can see Waylon’s house behind it too, a bit closer than my neighbors on the left and right.
Once I park in the driveway, I hop out of the car and grab Sadie so we can go inside. Now that I’m up close, I can see that the house isn’t in great shape. The steps up to the front porch creak and a lot of planks are out of place. Inside isn’t much better — it’s clean, but it’s clear that it’s been a while since anyone’s fixed anything or updated it.
Well, shit. My first thought was to lay low here for a bit, then sell it, but how can I sell a house that’s falling apart?
I put Sadie down and sigh. I guess I have a lot of time to figure it out.
TWO
WAYLON
I mansplained chaps.
I mansplained chaps to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
I want to walk behind the clinic, into the woods, die of embarrassment there, and let nature reclaim my body, but I have work to do.
The only thing that can distract me from my embarrassing unforced error is my mom coming in with one of the dogs for a checkup. Only it’s not a fun distraction because I have a gut feeling on how this visit is going to go, and I don’t like it.
One of my family’s dogs, Lady, almost tackles me the moment I walk into the exam room. I can’t help but grin. My family has had Labrador retrievers my entire life, and the breed is even the mascot of our family’s bourbon brand, Big Bubba Bourbon. I’ll always have a soft spot for them, and for Lady.
“Hey, pretty girl,” I coo, kneeling down and scratching all of her favorite spots. She goes nuts, tail whipping back and forth as she tries to give me kisses. My mom clears her throat. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey.” My mom is dressed in tailored pants and a blouse. She probably had a meeting with the board of the newanimal shelter next door, which Stryker Liquors is donating heavily to. “How are you?”
“Not bad.” I sit cross-legged on the ground, as I usually do with larger dogs, and she puts her nose into my neck. “How are you?”
“Good. There’s just so much planning with Wes and Rose’s engagement and the wedding and the family reunion and the last touches on the shelter.” Mom sighs, her high-heel clicking on the floor. I know that sigh — it’s asking for me to ask about it.
My twin brother, Wes, just proposed to his girlfriend Rose about a week ago, and it’s been the best thing to happen to Mom in years. They’ve already chosen a date only three and a half months from now since the venue they like has a last-minute opening. Wes is the first one of the four of her sons — me, Wes, Ash, and John David — to get married, which has been her dream since we were all old enough to get into serious relationships.
She always assumed I’d be the first one. I did too. Now engagement and relationships in general, to be honest) are the last thing I want.
“Have you been giving Lady her vitamins?” I ask, running my hands down Lady’s sides to check for any weird lumps or bumps. “Her fur is looking good.”
“Mmhm.” Mom examines her nails. “A lot of these events will require a date.”
Here we go. In record time, too. I peek inside Lady’s ears. Healthy but a little dirty, but she’s always hated having them touched. She shakes her head after I peek inside each one.
“Will they?” I ask. Wes and Rose have barely been engaged long enough to have many serious plans, but I guarantee they won’t have a stuffy wedding where everyone needs a plus one.
Nope, that’s all Mom. I’m sure Rose and Wes could talk her out of it, but I don’t put it past Mom to pretend that a plus-one rule exists.
“I’d say so.” Mom shrugs and tucks some of her dark hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t you want to bring someone special?”
“Mom.” If today were less of a mess, I’d have more patience. But the fact that she’s already going down this road within three minutes is pushing me to the end of my rope. “Please. Can we just have Lady’s appointment and move on? And not talk about my dating life?”
