Chapter Seven
With Halloween getting closer, I was unpacking all the decorations and props for my annual Halloween party, but for those who couldn’t make it, I still wanted them to experience the haunted décor which was why I was setting it up way ahead of time. Also, once word spread, people would want to stop by and check it out. Each week, I added more and more, giving my customers something to look forward to.
Normally I hated parties and preferred the solace of my cabin in the woods, but Halloween was my only exception. I lived for this shit.
The horror movie night I had implemented last year had grown and become even more of a success than I could have imagined. I wanted the distillery over the top for the final two nights.
I plugged in the seven-foot-tall animatronic talking clown with two red tufts of hair and suspenders, and stepped back to watch it in action. Its arms moved, eyes lit red, and circus sounds filled the air, creating the perfect vibe to go along with the Welcome to the Carnival sign I snagged at an antique store in Stroudsburg.
Jack barked as the clown moved again. I rested a hand on his head. “It’s not going to hurt us,” I assured him, and he went back to his bone.
I hung another clown in a cage by the door to the outside seating area. It would scare the shit out of anyone who walked by and tripped the sensor that caused it to scream and shake. A smile tugged at the edge of my mouth, thinking of all the jump scares and screams that were to come.
I moved to the bar and picked up my glass of whiskey and took a sip, admiring everything I’d done so far. The distillery had been closed for an hour, and I’d already managed to put up most of the things I wanted displayed.
A knock at the door caught my attention. I expected Franc, but shock slammed into my chest as my eyes took in Chardonnay, standing at my door, looking as impatient as ever.
She was in another one of her pantsuits. This one was emerald green with a white shirt beneath that dipped in an arch, revealing her perfect tits. But her tits didn’t answer any of my questions.
Jack sauntered to the door, his tail wagging with too much excitement. He glared back at me as if telling me to hurry the hell up. I flipped the lock and pulled the door open.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as her delicious scent wafted into the door, engulfing me in a sophisticated combination of lemon, rose, and musk. It was probably some expensive shit like Chanel. I remembered back when we were teens, she begged Franc and me to bring her to the mall. She must’ve spent an hour in the perfume section, making me smell every damn one. My nose hairs had singed by the third one. But I remembered the Chanel scents had been her favorite. Something I’d never be able to afford to give her. Not that it mattered. Not too soon after, our friendship had shriveled up to what it was now.
Except for the fact she was currently standing in the doorway of my tasting room.
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She waved her hand in the air as if to bat the question away. Shifting on her heel, she looked uncomfortable for maybe the first time ever. After a deep inhale, her dark brown eyes met mine. “Nero told me about Ron.” Holding a packet of papers, she added, “I did some research.” She motioned it toward me. “Take it.”
I hesitated, confused. I stared at the papers, wondering what her angle was. Chardonnay didn’t go out of her way to help me.
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“You? Yes.”
“Just take the papers.”
I continued to stare. Her lips pressed together, and I waited for her to snap, but she straightened her shoulders and smacked the papers against my chest.
“Take them.” She glared at me, then with a crack of her neck she inhaled. “Please.”
My head jerked toward the papers, then her. She stood there, hand on my chest. I took the papers, our fingers brushing slightly. “Thank you. I think.” I glanced at the stack with color coded tabs. “I don’t know if I need all this. He’s going to a doctor on Wednesday. Maybe they’ll give him some meds or something.”
Her eyes blinked wide and locked on mine. I couldn’t tell if it was pity or something else. I stopped trying to figure Chardonnay out a long time ago, but the way she was looking at me made me uneasy.
“What?” I asked.
“From what I’ve read, this is only going to progress.”
“I’ll wait to see what the doctor says.”
“I think you need to prepare yourself, and you need to decide if you’re ready for all this disease entails.”
“What are you talking about?”
She walked to the bar, grabbed my glass of whiskey, and took a sip. The clown in the corner released a loud scream, and Chardonnay jolted, almost spilling the whiskey all over her. She recovered gracefully.
“I hate clowns.”
“I’m sure they don’t like you much either.”
She looked me over and smirked. “Obviously.” She placed the glass down. “If it is Alzheimer’s, he’s not going to get better. He’s going to get worse. What that means is different for everyone. He had a history of being violent when he was intoxicated, so there’s a possibility he can revert to that, or maybe he goes the opposite way and forgets all about that part of himself and he’s just a happy guy. Either way, he’s not going to be the man you know.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever known him. The man I thought I knew didn’t even seem to exist anymore. It’s like that part of my life was just a nightmare. Not real. Or maybe it was like Nightmare on Elm Street. It was real, but only to me.”
She grabbed my hand, and my eyes shot to her hold before she dropped it. She looked as shocked as I felt. She straightened her shoulders, and the shock on her pretty features vanished. Typical Char. She wasn’t exactly known for her emotional intelligence. “It wasn’t a nightmare. I remember.”
Our gazes met, but neither of us said anything. So many memories hung between us, filling in the gaps, letting us keep from voicing those memories we’d rather forget. Char didn’t know everything, but she knew enough. It’s why what she had said about me back in high school cut deeper than it should have.
Of all people, I thought I could trust her. I thought she saw me for more than my circumstances. She didn’t. Maybe I couldn’t blame her. No one could see me without seeing my circumstances. They were as much a part of me as the scars on my skin.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway. You can get a better understanding of the disease from those.” She pointed at the papers, then let her hand fall to her side.
“I guess I should read some of this then.” I wasn’t used to Chardonnay going out of her way to help me. At least not since we were kids. “Bullshit aside. Why are you helping me?”
Her lip quirked at the edge. “It’s the right thing to do.” She spun around and went straight for the door. She bent down and gave Jack a good scratch before disappearing into the night without another word.
I walked to the door and waited for her car to exit the parking lot. If something happened to her, her brothers would rip my limbs off and beat me with them.
Once her headlights had vanished from sight, I flipped the lock and went to the bar. Jack followed close by, sitting at my feet as I stopped in front of my glass, placing the papers beside it.
The outline of Chardonnay’s lips glistened on the glass. It was stupid, but the fact that she drank the whiskey I made from scratch and didn’t even bat an eye as it hit her throat, caused a kind of pride to well up inside me. It was as if she was so used to the taste, she knew exactly what to expect.
She might have thought I was trash, but she didn’t think my whiskey was.
A knock on the door caught my attention, and I turned, expecting Chardonnay, a weird excitement brewing in my chest, but it was a woman I had never met. I meandered over and unlocked the door.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
She lifted her hand and waved, the overhead light glinting off her nose ring. “Hi! I’m Meadow Simpson. I was just stopping by to see if you’re hiring. And before you ask, I’m twenty-eight. I know I look twenty. Thanks Mom and I guess Dad for those great genes.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Straight shooter. I like that. This is your place, right? Really nice. I was at the Movie Night thing the other night, thought it’d be a great way to meet the locals, get to know the town. I spoke to an Odette. Lovely woman, really. Makeup choices questionable, but she’s doing her, and I dig it. She said you had a lot on your plate, and you could probably afford to hire some help. I would have spoken to you then, but you were clearly busy running the show. Then I tried to come back, but again… another crowd. You definitely could use some help. And the only other place hiring is that Gold Crest Winery, but the vibes were off there. Anyway, I saw the light on as I was driving home from overindulging in Sonya’s tacos. Have you had them?”
“Uh. Yes.”
“So good. Anyway. I saw your light on and figured I’d shoot my shot while you’re not surrounded by a million customers.”
“You’re new in town?” Considering I’d never seen her before, it was pretty obvious, but she was speaking so fast, I was just trying to get words in.
“I am. Moved into the apartments over at Robin’s Landing. Great place. Reasonable rent. Nice neighbors. Pet friendly. Not that I have a pet, but I get to pet all the puppies, and they make me happy.”
Jack took that as his cue to emerge from behind the bar. He nudged her hand, and she dropped to her knees with a squeak, taking Jack’s whole face in her hands and kissing his snout. Her brown curls covered both of their faces. “Aren’t you a cutie patootie?”
“What brought you to Vine Valley?” I asked, trying to get her back on track.
She let go of Jack and ran her fingers through her wavy bangs. “I’m what people would call a drifter. I guess I’m trying to find my purpose in life, so I move from town to town, meeting new people, learning new skills. But…” She stood. “I am reliable and would never take off without giving my two weeks. I’m more respectful than that.”
“I just hired someone.”
“You’ve been really busy every time I’ve driven by. I’m sure another person on the schedule would only help.”
She had a point. Even with the new hire, I was still working way more hours than I needed to. I was finally turning a profit and could afford to take on multiple people. “Do you have any experience working in a distillery?”
“No… But!” she exclaimed, holding her finger up. “I was a bartender at a dive bar. I can break up a fight faster than you can blink. I can also maintain a line of customers, total out drawers, do a one ounce pour without even looking. I know how to make cocktails and love to be creative with that if you’d let me. I’d make a weekly special list for you, so your customers have more than just the basics.”
“Say I give you a job. How long do you plan on staying? You said you were a drifter.”
“You’re right. I did say that. I tend to stay in most places for six months, but if the town and the people capture my heart, I’ve been known to stay for a year or two.”
“Do you have family?”
“That’s a weird question to ask in an interview.”
“This isn’t exactly a normal interview.” It wasn’t even scheduled or planned. She showed up at my door, asking for a job. I was working with what I had.
“Touche. I have a grandpa. Never met him. Heard he’s a drunk. At least that’s what my mom said. She died when I was twenty-one. The Big C took her out. She fought like hell, though. I like to think I get my tenacity from her.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. Part of life, right? The crappy stuff makes you appreciate the good stuff that much more.” She paused for only a second. “Dad was a deadbeat. Never met him. He took off before I was even born.”
Girl’s life sounded as shitty as mine, but at least she had a mother who loved her before she lost her.
“If I give you a job, I have a few rules.”
“Shoot.”
“No relationship drama. I don’t care who you date, but if there’s drama, you and your partner will be booted.”
“I left my last boyfriend on the side of the road in Tennessee and haven’t had the desire to date since.”
“Left him on the side of the road?” My eyebrow cocked on its own accord, my curiosity piqued.
“I discovered he was using again. Bastard lied to me. I will be as loyal as they come, but once you destroy my trust, you’re dead to me.”
“Harsh.”
“Have to be. I learned at a young age that if you allow it, people will take advantage of you. So, what’s the next rule?”
“Don’t be late.”
“I’m always early. Next.”
“Don’t bother me.”
“That seems to be a you problem, but okay. Next.”
My lips parted, but then I snapped them shut. Maybe it was a me problem. “When can you start?”
“How about tomorrow?”
I held my hand out to shake and seal the deal, and she eagerly accepted. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Again, sounds like a you problem, but I promise, you won’t regret it. Even if you think I’m annoying, I tend to grow on you whether you want me to or not.”
“Great, so you’re like a fungus.”
“I’d consider myself more of like a remora.”
“A what?”
“A remora. They’re the ones that swim with sharks and eat their scraps. However, they make the sharks cartilage stronger.”
I felt like I was speaking to Gio.
“So basically, you help me, and I help you, and together we’re stronger for it. And we meaning this business. You think you’re busy now? Wait until I charm the hell out of your customers and whip up some amazing cocktails.”
“I don’t like a lot of people.” I was already busier than I had ever anticipated.
“But you like money and success; everyone does. So, you’ll just have to sacrifice a small part to get there.”
“I’m starting to wonder if this is a good idea.”
“It’s because I’m talking too much, isn’t it? I have a tendency to do that. Okay. How about a trial run? I start tomorrow, and if after a week you can’t stand me, we’ll go our separate ways without any hard feelings. Deal?”
She extended her hand, and I stared at it since we already shook, but I guess this was a new clause in our agreement. I accepted her hand and hoped for the best.