Page 49 of Until Next Time
I feel Birdie’s hand slide across my body, like she’s trying to pull me in closer. I revel in it, and that’s when she realizes.
I look down at her, her eyes shoot open, and she pulls her hand away, and pulls her leg off of mine. In 2 seconds flat shes a million miles away again.
“Uhh, sorry. Unconscious me hasn’t been made aware of the coward you’re being. I’ll make sure she gets the memo.” She bites out.
She’s right. I am a coward.
“We better get on the road. Gotta get you back home.” Is all I say as I slide out of the bed, and walk over towards my boots at the door.
She nods, lips tight.
“Yep. I’ve got work to do. And my boss is a real asshole.” She says, pulling her boots on.
She marches over to the door, grabbing my jacket on the way out and swiping my keys off the side table.
“I’ll be in the truck.” She says and walks out without looking my direction.
* * *
That was the longest drive in the world. Birdie didn’t say one word the entire time. Even when I asked her if she wanted to stop off for coffee, she just shook her head,no.
When we got back into town and I was dropping her off by her car, I attempted an apology, an explanation of sorts.
“Birdie. I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was to leave you confused. I had a handle on all of this for so long, and to watch it unravel so terribly at my own doing is just so fucked.”
She cuts me off by putting up her hand.
“I’ve spent every year since I’ve known you trying not to love you. So the shit you’re pulling right now, I don’t get it, I don’t understand it, and quite frankly, it’s absolute bullshit. I don’t know why you said what you did and if you even meant a word of it. But I’m going to give you a little piece of advice. Next timeyou tell a girl how much you want her, don’t. Unless you plan to grow some balls and a backbone and prove it.”
She shuffles around the cab grabbing her purse, slinging it on her shoulder and jumping out of the truck. Before she shuts the door, she takes a look at me, brings her hand to her forehead, salutes me and says, “Until next time,asshole.”
She slams the door, turns and heads toward her car. Away from me.
* * *
I park my truck in it’s usual spot behind the shop. I lean my head against the headrest, feeling like a piece of shit and I pull my phone out and open my messages.
Me: Hey man, any chance you’ve got some time today to help me unload and set up some scaffolding for your sister?
River: Yeah, yeah. I’ve got a few things left to take care of here at the ranch, but I can make it there around 5ish if that works?
Me: Yep, thanks man.
River: See ya then.
I head up to my loft and head directly for my shower. I need to rinse off the last twenty four hours.
I reach into my shower and turn the knob, willing the water to be as cold as it will go. I peel off my clothes and walk in, letting the icy water run down my head and across my back. The coldgives my mind something else to think about. A different kind of torture, yet somehow it’s relief from all my other thoughts.
* * *
Tuesday nights at the winery are actually pretty busy typically. We have open mic for local musicians on Tuesdays as well as a wine special. I decide I should probably make an appearance downstairs and help my staff out while I wait for River to show up to help me with the equipment for the mural.
I dry off from my shower, run some wax through my hair and throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie. I grab my boots by the door and push my feet inside and grab my phone before heading out the door. I try to tell myself that staying busy will help the ache in my bones. But really, all I’ve done is replay her words in my head like a fucking broken record.
* * *
The winery is full of patrons and it’s buzzing with people chatting and laughing and there’s a musician on the stage performing 80s rock covers. The wine is being poured, people are enjoying themselves and I’m watching my winery be all that I’d ever hoped it would be— full of life. Yet, I can’t help but feel empty. Like it’s lost it’s whole purpose.
