Page 154 of Holidating
You used to be fun, one of the texts read.
It’s a cruel thing to say. But the holidays are just so hard on everybody. Especially when spending time with her father and Veronica means being asked the age-old question—when are you going to start a family? As if they haven’t ever considered this. As if Nicolettehasn’t cried in the bathroom the last two years every time she gets her period.
Cam has been especially irritable since he lost the congressional primary to a statehouse representative who’s spent more time in politics. The defeat made a certain amount of sense to Nicolette. But Cam hadn’t seen it that way, especially since the candidate was a woman.
That makes it embarrassing, he said to her after giving a half-hearted concession speech to a room full of his supporters.She's not even pretty, he added while she cringed inside.
At least he only said it to her. Probably.
It’s been a rough couple years, all around.
So tonight, when Cam essentially bullied her into going out, Nicolette gave up her happy spot by the fire in their guesthouse, put down a stack of manuscripts from work and her red pen, and pulled on jeans and a nice top.
The evening has a chance of being fun. She’s been curious about the Gin Mill for a while. They’re supposed to have a great beer and cider list, with all the local cult brews. So she pulls open the big front door and allows the music and happy voices to wash over her like water.
The inside is charming. A long wooden bar sweeps the left side. There are high-top tables in the center of the expansive space, some booths along one wall, and pool tables along the other. It’s not fancy, but the brick walls lend it warmth, and candlelight flickers cheerfully from votives on every table.
Cam and his friend Rick Bellamy are easily spotted at the bar.
“There you are,” her husband says when she approaches. “I saved you a seat.” He lifts his coat off the barstool between the two of them.
“Thank you,” she says.
He makes a show of kissing her sweetly and seating her on the stool. Cam has always been in his element like this—in a social setting, with friends. It’s what he does best.
She’s always known this about him, too. Cam loves a loud party, while she prefers a cozy dinner with a couple of friends. Or coffee and gossip in a quiet spot. They’re mismatched.
She knew this but married him anyway, with the expectation that he’d make her life more exciting. Instead, it’s just more exhausting. But that’s on her, isn’t it?
“Hey buddy!” Cam snaps his fingers at the bartender, and she flinches inside.
Sure enough, when the guy—and he’s a looker—finishes up his transaction, he turns to Cam with obvious reluctance. “Help you with something?”
“Can you get my wife a Goldenpour?” Cam says, oblivious. “It’s a cult beer,” he tells her. “Very hoppy. Lots of citrus and minerals.”
She would have preferred to try a cider, but the bartender's mouth is tight, and it's a look she is familiar with. Plenty of bartenders get that look after a night serving Cam. So she doesn’t change her order.
When the bartender slides a pint in her direction a moment later, she makes eye contact. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
A hint of warmth relaxes his expression. “My pleasure.” Actually, there's something really familiar about this guy, but she can’t place it, and she doesn’t think they've met.
When she tries the beer, it’s interesting. Almost aggressive in its flavor profile. It's not really her thing, but it's still fun to taste something that's been crowned the best beer in the world.
“I like this place,” she says, making conversation.
“Yeah,” Rick agrees. “It's great to see some new energy in this part of Vermont. We need it so bad.”
“Yeah, such a backwater,” Cam adds.
Nicolette sees the bartender roll his eyes. He doesn’t bother being subtle about it. Hard to blame the guy. She looks away, embarrassed, to study the room. There’s a sign on one wall that says,Jukebox night! Songs $1. All Proceeds Benefit the Colebury Community Skating Rink.
A few minutes later, an uptempo song kicks off. It’s “Cheap Thrills” by Sia, which Nicolette always enjoys.
She’s not the only one. The hot bartender picks up an empty beer can—as if he were holding a microphone—and starts to lip sync the lyrics.
The cocktail waitress laughs and bats her eyelashes at him.
Cam and his friend are deep into their hockey talk. When one of them stops to take a breath, she says, “I’m going to put some money in the jukebox. Any particular requests?”
