Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
brIAR
Half an hour later, I’m sitting in the bar next door, Great Escape, at a table with Dottie, Sophie, Hannah, and Otis.
I’m mostly sober, having doused my face with freezing cold water after puking in Silver Star’s bathroom.
My stomach is still a little queasy, but saltines and black tea have helped.
Hannah and Sophie are drinking tea in solidarity, and Dottie, thank God, decided against the hideous milk-brandy concoction and is drinking tea too.
It’s nothing like Dottie’s tea, obviously, but at least it’s strong.
Otis, the sole tea-holdout, went for a beer.
“All better?” Dottie asks me.
I nod, sighing, still mortified that Liam saw me vomit. He’s still at Silver Star, looking for the fish. Once that’s been dealt with, he’s going to collect everything he needs from the storeroom to get going on the pale ale.
“Can we talk about staffing now?” Sophie asks. “Because Otis and I have this crafting event to get to at five.”
“Want to come?” Otis asks me with a sweet smile as he tugs his hat down even lower on his forehead. “We’re making pape-ier ma-chay pots. It’s French.”
“No, thanks.”
“Oh…” He gives Sophie a hesitant glance as she sips her tea. “Well, I could probably sit out of this one, if you need help at the brewery. Or some company.”
“That’s it.” Hannah smacks the table so hard all of our cups jump a millimeter. “I’m signing this kid up for Tinder. Right now. Immediately. No is no longer an option.”
Otis rolls his eyes at her. “Seriously, Hannah? I’m already on Tinder. Everyone I know is.”
“Really?” Sophie remarks with interest. “I’ve never seen you bring a girl home, but you do have an awful lot of condoms. When do you do it? Do you wait until your grandmother is at one of her club meetings?”
“And if everyone you know is on it,” Hannah adds, “have you ever had one of those awkward moments, where you, like, know the girl who works at the comic bookstore is kinky, and she knows you like food play?”
He swears under his breath. “Could we please not talk about this right now?”
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Dottie titters as she stirs her tea.
“There’s no shame in searching for love.
Or having fun while doing it. Of course, they didn’t have Tinder when I was your age.
Back then, you met through friends or at community hall dances and hoped for the best. But after my partner Beau died, my friends did encourage me to start dating again.
One of them even created one of those accounts for me. ”
“They did?” Hannah asks, her eyes full of fascination. “Tell me everything. No detail is too small.”
Dottie laughs, tapping her spoon against the side of the teacup before setting it down. “Nothing came of it. I wasn’t ready to so much as think of dating again, until Bear convinced me otherwise.”
“How’d he do that?” I ask, swept up by the story.
Although I fully intend to stick to my no-dating plan, possibly forever, part of me still yearns to find someone to share my life with. I’ve seen what it’s done for Sophie and Hannah.
I find joy in life—in my friends, in the peace from doing yoga in the early morning with Karma padding around me, and in watching the sun rise and set over the mountains with a mug of tea. But I don’t feel the kind of joy I know my friends do.
“Oh, the dear man. He made me a tea blend that spoke his intentions as clearly as any handwritten note. There was chamomile for relaxation, ginger for courage, and rose hips for love. I drank down every drop, even though it didn’t taste very good.
And he declared himself in front of all of our friends.
It was beautiful. I hadn’t intended to fall in love again, but his love lifted me over every barrier.
How could a woman help falling for a man like that? ”
“Wow, that must have taken a lot of effort,” Otis says. “Would you have gone for him if he’d just, like, asked you to hang?”
“Otis,” Sophie chastises, her eyes full of disappointment. “You wouldn’t.”
Hannah slaps the table again. “And that, my friends, is why he never has any girls over.”
“Hanging what, dear boy?” Dottie asks brightly.
“Not hanging pictures, I’ll tell you that much,” Hannah says with a snort.
Otis tugs off his hat. “Look, not that it’s any of your business, but I go to their places. That’s what girls like to do to make sure you’re not a serial killer.”
Hannah shakes her head as she sips her tea. “What’s to stop you from serial-killing them in their places?”
“I don’t know.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Maybe they have mace or brass knuckles or something. Some of them have dogs.”
“Is that how you got bitten by a dog last month?” Sophie muses. “I thought it happened on one of your odd jobs.”
“Look. I’m not really comfortable with this conversation,” he says desperately, darting a pleading glance at me as he lifts his beer for a sip.
“Leave him alone,” I say, feeling protective of Otis, and maybe a bit of myself, since Hannah’s constantly trying to get me to sign up for online dating. “He has every right to keep his dating life to himself. It’s none of our business who he ‘hangs’ with.”
I reach out and squeeze his hand, and he instantly drops his drink into his lap.
“Oh my God. Are you okay?” I ask.
He makes a strangled sound before setting his mostly empty glass down and reaching for the mass of napkins in the middle of the table. He presses the handful to his lap. “I’m fine, but I have to use the restroom.”
He walks off with the wad of napkins pressed to his crotch, just as our server, a pretty blonde girl around his age, comes by to ask if we have everything we need.
“Napkins,” Hannah says, gesturing toward Otis, who still hasn’t reached his destination. “Our friend there will need more of them. He had a little…accident.”
“He spilled a drink on himself,” I rush to explain, but the server walks away tittering. I turn toward Hannah, lowering my voice. “I’m glad I wasn’t one of your brothers.”
“Teasing is my love language,” Hannah says. “And Liam definitely gave as good as he got.”
I smile slightly, because I’m quite sure he did.
Then I remember that Liam just held my hair back while I threw up. He’d done it so calmly, like it was no big deal. But it was a big deal.
Groaning, I bury my head in my hands. “Liam’s going to think I’m so unprofessional.”
Hannah pulls one of my hands away. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. He literally orchestrated his own firing today. And he nicknamed our boss Frodo.” Her brow furrows. “Actually, you know what? I might have done that. Anyway, you’re good.”
“But he held back my hair while I puked.”
“It was gallant of him, wasn’t it?” Dottie says. She pauses to sip some tea. “But a man should do such things. It’s what any true gentleman would do.”
Hannah laughs, but Sophie keeps casting concerned glances toward the restroom.
“Are you worried about Otis?” I ask. “I think he was just embarrassed, talking about his dating life with a bunch of older women.”
“It’s this crush he has on you.” She nudges her teacup with the tips of her fingers. “I keep thinking he’s going to get over it, but it only seems to get worse. Maybe it’ll be like a trial by fire if he helps out at the brewery for a while.”
“Crush? What are you talking about?” I protest. “I’m practically old enough to be his mother. He’s…like…a little brother. Your little brother.”
“But he’s not yours,” Sophie says. “Have you honestly not noticed the way he’s always mooning over you?”
Hannah, who just took a sip of tea, nearly sprays it out. “No,” she chokes out, “because it’s the same way literally every man acts around her.”
“No, it’s not,” I insist.
I shoot Sophie a questioning look, but she shrugs, her smile sheepish. “She’s kind of right. You’re…you. Don’t you ever look in the mirror?”
A sigh spills out of me. “Look, I know I’m pretty. It’s the only thing my parents have ever liked about me. But plenty of people are pretty. You’re all pretty, too. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it.”
“I don’t think you realize how pretty you are,” Sophie says seriously.
“I really don’t want to talk about this. I just look the way I look. But if you’re worried about Otis—”
“There’s no need to worry,” Dottie says, her voice ringing with certainty. “Otis will find his great love when the time is right, and so will Briar. I’m quite certain they’re both on the correct paths.”
I sit up straighter. “Correct paths for what?”
“For you,” she says with a sweet smile.
“Is this a good time to say you should be on Tinder too, Briar?” Hannah says. “If we make a profile for you, we can creep on Otis.”
“How is that going to help him get over his crush on her?” Sophie scoffs. “You’ll give him false hope, all because you’re bored.”
“Bite your tongue,” Hannah says. “How could I possibly be bored? I have a neurotic man to keep me busy, the best kid in the universe, a brewery to run, and another to help relaunch. My life is on point. I just want Briar’s life to be on point too.”
Dottie pats my hand. “It would be…amusing to see what this Tinder is all about.”
“Oh, not you too, Dottie,” I moan.
“But this isn’t the time,” she continues, thank God. “We were going to talk about staffing.”
“Yes, please.”
Dottie beams at me. “A couple of the other Wise Elders want to help. I was the floor manager at Buchanan Brewery for decades before I started my tea shop, and Ann and her dearly departed husband ran a restaurant together. Constance is leaving on vacation with her family soon, but she hates being left out of the fun, so she’ll help us in the beginning.
Eugene, of course, has the most brewery experience other than me, but he’s bound to Big Catch and can’t offer much help.
But the rest of us are going to handle your tasting room and events management until you find replacements, dear.
And we won’t take a cent from you. We’ll only be fill-ins until you have time to properly restaff. ”