Chapter 14 #2
She looked up, and the eye contact sent jolts of electricity through my body.
We held the stare for a beat. Then two. I stepped a little closer.
She smelled so good. It made me think of bubble bath and something soft like French lavender.
I caught sight of her long neck and the beginning swoop of her clavicle.
I wanted to trace my finger along that swoop and lean down and kiss it gently.
Instead, I lifted my hands from her arms and broke the contact that was making me want to cross a line.
I noticed her cross her arms and rub where my hands had just been. Was it my imagination, or did she sense the intensity of that moment too? I decided to change the subject as I grabbed my wallet and keys from the side table. “Is everything ready for the event tonight too?” I asked.
“I think so,” she said after a burst of exhale. “Don’t worry, I have a wardrobe change for Cheers and Cheese.”
“I wasn’t worried. You always think of everything. What are you changing into?” I asked, curious about just how much I would have to tone down my excitement later.
“Well. I never thought I’d have occasion to wear it again, but I actually own a traditional dirndl like German barmaids wear at Oktoberfest. It’s left over from a sorority event back in college.
It was custom-made and tailored. Thank God it still fits,” she said with nothing but amusement in her voice.
Shit. I was done for.
“Thank you, Ali and Jake, for the presentation,” Asher said into the microphone. Misha started clapping wildly, encouraging a few others to join in. “We’ll now open it up for comment from the board.”
“Mr. Chairman, Miss Bennet’s ideas here are astute and creative. I for one love it,” Kelly Moore, a local real estate agent and longtime board member, said. Murmurs of agreement went down the line.
“Excellent. We can open up for public comment and questions. Please stand up to the microphone if you would like to make a statement,” Asher instructed.
For a solid second all was quiet and we thought we were in the clear, but then someone from the back started to rustle, stood, and walked toward us at the mic. It was Carl.
“I know I am a bit old-fashioned, but this plan of hers sounds a lot more like showboatin’. She makes it sound like we need to hitch our wagon to her star in order to be successful. She’s not even one of us. Who’s to say she won’t just deliver us to this developer on a silver platter?” he said.
Ali looked stricken and lowered her gaze. Damn it, Carl. Here he was trying to tamp her down. Not on my watch.
“Um . . . if I could respond?” I said, and Carl stepped to the other side of the mic giving me room at the mic. I looked at Ali, then to Carl.
“Carl, Ali isn’t asking anyone to hitch themselves to her star.
She’s trying to light a fire that we can all benefit from.
She’s not showboating, as you put it. She just knows what she’s doing, and it could work.
You might not think of her as one of us yet, but she is quickly becoming one of the best things to happen to Lakeside.
If you have questions about an aspect of her plan then fine, but don’t question her heart. I personally guarantee that part.”
Ali diverted her gaze, but not before I noticed a tight smile there.
“Fine. Fine. What do I know? Don’t be surprised if this all falls apart and she is suddenly nowhere to be found to help clean it up.” With that, Carl walked away and out the door.
I looked to Ali and stepped to her side. We faced the board. Shoulder to shoulder.
Asher covered the mic with his hand and looked at the board members on either side of him.
“Carl’s comments notwithstanding, we think this plan is tremendous.
You have the full backing of the village.
Thank you, Ali and Jake.” This time Misha added a whistle to his applause, and all the attendees joined in to clap.
At the end of the meeting, I grasped Ali’s wrist to get her attention. “That was really good. Congratulations.”
“Whatever. It was fine. We get to do our thing,” she said nervously. I could tell she was affected by what Carl said.
“Hey. Don’t let him get into your head. Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I better get going. See you at the Tavern?”
I nodded, but I needed to head home first. I had a little surprise for Ali.
The Tavern was buzzing. Even though open mic night was a Thursday-night staple, the event could get a little stale.
Letting the weekly tradition anchor a different purpose was genius.
I could tell Calvin was thrilled. He and Marjorie couldn’t fill glasses fast enough.
Maggie Jo, Stacy, Eric, and even Misha walked around with platters of cheese hors d’oeuvres.
Looked like they all went with the Canadian tuxedo look—denim on denim.
“Jacob,” Misha said as he slinked up next to me holding a platter filled with little cups of what looked like cheese soup.
A small plastic spoon stuck out the top of each one.
“I see you decided to dress down for the event.” He was looking me up and down, commenting on my oversized black hoodie and tear-away track pants.
“Something like that,” I said in response, not ready to reveal my secret outfit underneath.
Misha shrugged. “Care to try Cal’s Gold Rush?”
“Wait a damn minute! Cal made his beer cheese soup for this occasion?” I asked in shock.
Cal’s beer cheese soup was so coveted that it might as well have its own local holiday.
He randomly added it to the specials less than a handful of times during the year.
We never knew when or how much of it would be available.
People lined up for a chance at a cup. Someone had dubbed it liquid gold, which then led to the phenomenon known as the “gold rush” and ended up being named as such.
Whatever Ali did to convince Cal to make it part of the event was genius.
“He sure did. My, my, my, I had no idea soup could have this effect on people,” Misha said.
“Have you tasted it?” I asked.
“I’m lactose intolerant. No, thank you,” Misha said with a brow lift, eye roll combo.
“A little tip. One of these lovely ladies has a Costco-size bottle of Lactaid. Take it and try this soup. It will change your life. I promise,” I said quite dramatically, but when it came to Cal’s Gold Rush, it was imperative that Misha try it.
“Hmm . . . okay, Dr. Love Paws. I’ll try it.” And he walked off in search of a Lactaid supplier. Dr. Love Paws?
I walked into the Tavern a little deeper, scanning the room for her. Devilishly eager to see her in the dirndl she promised to be wearing. She was nowhere to be found.
After mingling a little more, there was still no sign of Ali. I noticed Misha standing at a cocktail table in the corner, his back to me. I walked over and tapped his shoulder. “Hey, where’s Ali? I haven’t seen her yet.”
Misha stiffened and his situation came into full view. He looked to be shooting the cheese soups one after another in a state of pure delirium.
“You okay, buddy? You look a little . . . um . . . manic,” I said hesitantly.
“This soup is euphoric. What does he put in it? Does he add Molly as an ingredient? I think I taste colors.”
I nodded, recognizing the effect the first experience of Cal’s Gold Rush had on people.
“No one knows for sure, but I am pretty sure it’s drug free. But pace yourself. And be sure to hydrate.” I made eye contact with Eric to call him over to help. As Eric made his way over, I asked about Ali again.
“I think she’s still in the back. I haven’t seen her.”
“I’ll go find her.” I walked away as Eric stepped to Misha’s other side. He made a face that said, Yikes.
I entered through the swinging door to the kitchen.
It was mostly in the dark, with only a few utility lights on.
Then I heard a sniffle coming from around the corner.
I found Ali sitting on a stack of canned goods tucked to the side, shoulders slumped and arms wrapped around herself. She was indeed wearing the dirndl.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Oh. Hi,” she said, quickly trying to wipe away tears.
“Am I interrupting?” I asked.
“No. It’s fine. I just . . . I can’t go out there. Not in this. It’s . . . It’s too much. But I got cheese soup on my suit, and I can’t wear it either. So I’m just going to hide back here and run things from the wings,” she said.
I sat down next to her. The lip of the top of the cans dug into the back of my legs and butt. “This may look like a throne, but these cans are really uncomfortable.” That made her smile. “I think you look great. What’s the problem?”
She looked more than great, but I was trying to keep this platonic.
“I always seem to do this. I move through the world loud and overwhelming. This outfit—it’s so unnecessary and over-the-top.
I mean well. I really do. But I have two speeds: too much or no-show.
Jake, I keep trying to change, and I keep just finding myself back to being the same.
I’m a fucking storm everywhere I go. And here, I’m a storm in a town that’s used to the occasional drizzle.
“Why can’t I just be simple? It pisses me off that Carl was right,” she said.
“I don’t know what’s got Carl in such a bad mood, but he doesn’t speak for anyone out there,” I said, pointing toward the dining room. “Ali, you’re not too much. You’re exactly what this town needs.”
“You hardly know me. This has been a problem before. The common denominator is always me. The shitty thing is, I tried to fit the mold. The last few years, I’ve been contorting myself to fit into what people like Carl—like my father—what they expect from me, and I always get in my own damn way.
Ugh. It’s so exhausting.” She cradled her face in her hands.
“You’d think it would have been easy. Use less energy. But it took so much out of me to curb my natural instincts. It was stifling. And it got me nowhere. Now, I don’t know how to be,” she said.
“Be you, Ali. Here. Now. Stop doubting yourself. Stop keeping tabs on how your behavior is being judged. If someone thinks you’re too much, let that be their problem. What would it feel like to just be yourself? Be free?” I asked.
She paused, then laughed and said, “I think it would feel like how I always saw Gibby live.”
“Then live like she did,” I said.
“What, wild? Free? A little batty?” she said.
“Batty?” I asked.
“My mom always said that about Gibby—but she actually meant it in a nice way. My mom is a bit batty herself. She’s a free spirit like Gibbs was.”
“Well, everyone here in Lakeside adored your grandmother and all her batty greatness. And no one has filled that void for them since her passing. Those people out there will welcome it. Welcome you. They already have,” I said.
She let out a soft exhale. “Thank you, Jake. But I still don’t know if they’re ready for this level of ridiculousness,” she said, pointing to her cute outfit and braids.
“Well, that’s a real shame. ’Cause now I’ll have to show up on my own, beer-cheese-ready with no counterpart,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
I stood up. “Promise not to laugh?” I asked.
“’Fraid I cannot make that promise without all the information.”
I let my shoulders drop. “Oh well, I’m going for it,” I said to myself and tore my pull-away pants from my lower half.
Ali shrieked a high-pitched eek of a sound. She slapped her hand to her mouth. “What is this?”
“You mentioned the dirndl that you had. It reminded me that I own lederhosen myself and thought it might be a good night to see if it still fit,” I said as I tore off my hoodie. “Turns out. It does.”
“Oh. My. God,” Ali said with the biggest smile on her face. A smile I put there. I felt like a fucking God.