Page 5 of Until Next Time
I decide to just ignore his comment about all the babes I get too, which is not something I want discussed over family breakfast, and especially not in front of Birdie.
Birdie claps her hands together with excitement, “Oh hell yeah. Wine, musicians and free food? I’m there, baby! Wait, what kind of musicians? Are we talking like old men singing covers or—”
River interrupts her inevitable line of questions, “Shut up, Birdie. Yeah, we’ll be there Daws.”
I try not to make any lingering eye contact, so I just give a general nod. “Alright, Cool. See y’all!”
I walk right past Birdie, close enough to brush her arm as I walk past her as I make my way to the front door. I’m grabbing my coat off the hook and I try not to think about how jealous I feel about her questioning which musicians were going to be there. Because everyone that knows Birdie, knows she’s into all that stuff. Musicians. Hipster music assholes.
Whatever.
I pull my beanie back on and head to my truck, practically running because I need to get away from these feelings. I liked it better when I had distance between them. It was easier to hide from them.
5
Birdie
Well, that breakfast was pure torture. I about had passed out when I saw Dawsen at my parent’s dining room table unexpectedly. Just looking at me—no expression. While I quite literally rolled out of my bed and right into his tension-filled presence.
To make matters worse, he had that fresh mussed hair look, which means he wore his beanie here. I go weak for Dawsen’s messy beanie hair.
The thing about the relationship between Dawsen and I is thatwe do not have one.
He’s always been the type of guy that isn’t friends with girls like me. And I think being very aware that I’m not the type that he hangs around has given me this deeply rooted insecurity and narrative that Dawsen thinks I’m a total loser-dork-weirdo. All of those things in one person, because I am not the tall,beautiful, slender, supermodel blondes he is usually seen with. I am just his best friend’s little sister who sometimes traps him in awkward conversations while I hang onto every word he says because I’m literally just a girl in a woman’s body who has a crush on a boy that will not go away no matter how hard I try.
Moving away from home was always the plan for me. It’s not that I hate small towns or anything, I actually love where I come from, but I just felt like my passions were going to be easier to pursue in the city. Maybe I’d meet some fancy art broker who loved my artwork and wanted to put on an art show featuring my latest and greatest collection—I don’t know, maybe I’ve watched too many movies.
Yep, that’s definitely the case. But that’s neither here nor there because here I am. None of those passions previously mentioned ever really did turn into anything other than disappointments and now I’m thirty years old, very single—another disappointing part of my life, and living with mom and dad for the foreseeable future.
“Mom and dad, I have decided that my first step towards being less of a pathetic failure is that I’m going to take over my own phone bill. I think it’s time.”
My dad breaks into a full belly laugh, leans over and pats my mom on her knee, “Hear that honey? Our little girl is growing up!”
I give an audible “ugh!’
“Aw, my little girl. I can hardly bear it.” Mom says dramatically as she presses the back of her hand to her head.
“Screw you guys.” I deadpan as I head for the stairs.
“Also, sorry, I love you.” I holler back as I hustle up the stairs.
My thoughts immediately shift to “what does one wear to a Fall Wine Fest?”
6
Dawsen
I’ve spent most of the day re-arranging the winery to fit the extra tables that Greg suggested we’d need for the event.
Greg is my lead bartender by night and shop manager by day, and apparently he’s also head of marketing, because he’s the one who has pushed this event so hard.
It’s been a lot of work, and I don’t really like having to focus on it so much, as I’d rather focus on the business side of things, but he and Savannah, my other shop employee, have handled all the details, to which I’m eternally grateful.
Event planning is definitely not my forte.
He projected that we’d have the biggest turnout this year since I’ve taken over the winery here in town and have done a full re-brand.
Saddlebrooke Winery was originally owned and operated by Susan and Doug Andersen for the last 40 years. They’re kind of legends around here, and the winery is one of the top tourist spots in town, but as they’d gotten older—they’d lost steam and let the winery fall by the wayside quite a bit. When the news started to circulate that they were thinking of selling, I jumped on the opportunity and did everything I could to secure it for myself.
