Page 12 of Until Next Time
She looked unsettled and it was making me unsettled.
I don’t know what her angle with the fake leak was, but I’m actually grateful—I needed a way out of the trap Stephanie was setting for me. That girl can spin webs faster than anyone I’ve ever met.
* * *
I can’t stop trying to figure out why Birdie was acting the way shewas, but for the sake of getting through the next couple of hours, I force myself to just put that whole situation out of my mind and just let it keep me up all night instead.
* * *
I want a shower and I want sleep. The crowd is starting to thin out, and I’m feeling pretty proud of how the event turned out. We went through more cases of wine than we were prepared for, so we had to break into the unreleased cult wines, which ended up being a great marketing move. I ended up striking up a partnership deal with the town’s most posh restaurant. They’re going to exclusively serve Southbound wines and we’re going to coin one of our unreleased cult wines as an exclusive to their restaurant. It’s a huge tourist destination, so I think it will bode well for our sales at both the winery and the mercantile.
People seemed to be enjoying themselves, and luckily none of the musicians Savannah hired were under fifty, because yes, I was worried about seeing Birdie leaving my winery with some musician at the end of the night thatIhired.
I start to gather up all the empty wine glasses, and start wiping down tables. I own the place, but I’m not the type of guy who isn’t going to get his hands dirty just because I have employees who are paid to do this stuff. My managing style is more of a team mentality. We work hard,together.I’m sure there’s some leadership books out there who have a lot of reasons why you shouldn’t run a business that way, but I’m small town. This is how I was raised. We work hard, we get our boots dirty, and we’re never too good for anything. My mom always used to say, “The second you think you’re too good for something, is the same second you become less interesting.” I’ve just always lived by that. Mom always had random bits ofwisdom for me. I wish I paid more attention or took the time to write them down.
The whole place is cleaned up, I sent Greg and Savannah home about ten minutes ago, and I’ve still got one rowdy group of drunks at the table by the door—River, Casey, my dad, and Birdie.
“Hey, not sure if you know this, but party’s over.” They all look at me and start busting up laughing.
“Dude, have one last drink with us!” River hands me his glass that has a splash of bourbon still in it. I take the glass and set it down.
“I’m not drinking. I’ve got to take all your sorry asses home.”
“Oh, no thanks Daws. I’ve got a ride.” Casey says as she grabs her phone and starts clicking through.
“Uhm, excuse me—who is your ride? We drove together!” Birdie looks at Casey through squinted eyes.
“Well, I matched with this guy on Hinge who happens to be in town on business, sooo.” Casey says with a little nudge and wink. Birdie is just standing there looking slightly annoyed.
“Yeah, and I’m actually going to meet up with Stephanie… shit, Dawsen is that fucked up? I’m sorry, I can cancel—“ without hesitation I hold up my hand at River, “No, that’s more than fine. You guys have fun.”
Casey and River start grabbing their coats and shuffling their things to head out. “Birdie, Dad, I’ve got you guys. Let me just finish up behind the bar.” I say flatly as I turn and head towards the bar to finish polishing a stack of glasses and grab my keys.
13
Birdie
We’re standing outside of the winery waiting for Dawsen to lock the doors. Crawford is talking to me about some movie he just watched that he thinks I’d love—“It’s about this old man who tells these wildly outrageous stories, and you never really know if he’s telling the truth, or what his deal is, and his son gets really tired of it, and there’s a giant man, a field of wildflowers and also this weird town where the people don’t wear shoes?”
He’s going on and on, listing all these half details he remembers. I can’t help but smile while I’m watching him try to recall more of the movie.
“Big Fish.” I hear Dawsen interject with his back towards us as he locks up the store.
I wish I could hear him speak without my pulse quickening.
“It’s one of her favorite movies. Top five.” He adds.
I’m too stunned to speak. My brain feels like it’s short circuiting for a moment as I try to figure out how in the hell Dawsen knows how much I love Big Fish, while I also try to remain composed and unbothered by him knowing this seemingly insignificant detail about me.
I’m just standing there like an idiot with no words coming out of my mouth, but I think my lips are moving.
“Yes! That’s it. I knew it was something about a fish.” Crawford says excitedly. “So you’ve seen it before?” He asks me with such a pure, loving curiosity. Words, please come.
“I have—Dawsen’s right. It’s one of my favorites. Top five.” I say, almost in a hushed tone.
We begin walking up the sidewalk, and I retreat behind Dawsen and Crawford for a beat, letting them lead the way to Dawsen’s truck. They’re chatting about some repair his truck needs and when he can take it to the shop. It’s all background noise to me right now as my brain sears that moment into my frontal lobe.
Top five.
