37. Build Me Up Buttercup
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
build me up buttercup
LOGAN
BLACKBURN FALLS, ONTARIO
PRESENT DAY
I’m exhausted after a full day of entertaining a toddler, and talking Star Trek with a dad, but we agreed to go out tonight and so help me, I do not break my promises. So now, I’m standing in front of a mirror, smoothing out my extremely cool sweater vest, and making sure my tie doesn’t look like an absolute mess.
My hair is still ridiculous, the humidity in Ontario doing little to keep me from looking like a mad scientist. I take a bit of pomade that Abi bought me and push it back, trying to sculpt it into some semblance of a recognizable style. Just when I think I’ve succeeded, a thick curl bounces back and falls into my eyes.
“Now I understand why my mom used to put gel in my hair for school picture day.”
“Okay, I’m ready!” Abi calls from the bathroom.
I watch as she emerges, dressed in a pair of black cutoff jean shorts that leave little to the imagination, and a red crop top that shows off just a sliver of her stomach. Her lipstick is vibrant, perfectly matching her shirt, and she’s got a pair of black her smile is fully genuine this time, and I think overall she really is happy to be back. At the very least, she’s trying her best to make the most of it.
“And there it is, the illustrious Black Bear.”
She points up ahead, gesturing toward a building that looks less like a bar, and more like a big log cabin. I spot a few picnic tables along with a small fire pit with some large wooden chairs laid out. A few people are already sat, sipping pints of ice-cold beer around a lightly crackling fire.
“Wait, so they just… hang out around a campfire and drink? That’s the bar?”
“There’s some seating inside too, genius, but sure.”
“That’s so cool,” I whisper.
“Yeah, this part was my favorite thing about the place. Although sometimes, when it got busy, I’d totally forget to check out here for people’s drinks.”
“You worked here?”
“For a while before I got the job at EBU. Kat’s dad used to own it, but he’s retired now. Her and Marcus technically run it, along with their real estate company.”
“Jesus, that’s a lot of work,” I mutter as we swing the door open and step inside.
My initial, moment-one impression is that the place looks like something out of Twin Peaks: dark wood, lots of dimly lit corners to sit in, a pool table, a dart board, and a cigarette vending machine that looks like it’s been fully repaired from the ground up at least 5 times before I was born.
It’s the epitome of a small town bar, but unlike the Hi-Dive in Emerald Bay, it’s not in massive need of repair. I love that place, but it’s becoming a safety hazard at this point.
The next thing I notice is that Karaoke is in full swing, with some old guy belting out the lyrics to Piano Man as a few people in the audience cheer him on.
Abi takes my hand, leading me right up to the bar where a short older woman with a head of dark, tightly coiled curls is pouring drinks. Every movement feels deliberate, and even someone as un-informed on the topic as I am can tell she’s pretty damn good at flipping a bottle.
I always wanted to bartend in college, but I’ve got butterfingers and a shitty short-term memory. I once smashed an entire bottle of Belvedere on the floor of a liquor store because I was trying to show off in front of Frankie.
It was a pretty impressive trick, I made a whole lot of money disappear.
“Hey, Maggie!” Abi chirps.
Maggie’s face lights up and she flashes us a big smile.
“Abi! It’s good to see you, kiddo! Are you back for the reunion?”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“We’ve missed you around these parts, you know. Always felt a little sad you had to go off and become a big fancy professor.” Maggie’s eyes land on me as she finishes cleaning a glass, taking a pause to look me up and down. “And this must be your fiancé. I’ve heard… well, nothing about you other than the fact that you exist.”
“I certainly do!” I chirp, sticking out my hand to shake hers. “Logan Flynn, actual factual human being. How the heck are ya?”
“Very well, thank you! Now what can I get the two of you to drink? First one’s on the house, but don’t you worry, that’s just a trick to keep you coming back.”
“I’ll take a beer. Logan?”
“Same here,” I reply.
“Oh, and two shots of whiskey!” Abi calls after the bartender. “Put it on my tab!”
“You planning on taking advantage of me tonight, Doctor?” I ask with the most charming grin I can muster.
She turns to me, fingers tugging on the hem of my sweater vest.
“You did wear those glasses tonight, and you know what they do to me.”
“I actually don’t,” I laugh. “Would you care to elaborate?”
Her cheeks flush and she clears her throat, staring down at the bar before taking a deep breath. This doesn’t feel like the preparation for another dumb joke, it’s like she’s about to?—
“Hey, Abi!” Kat calls out from a darkened corner, cutting into our conversation.
“We’ll be there in a second!”
Maggie comes back with our drinks and Abi slides a shot glass toward me.
“Do one with me.”
“You got it, Shortcake.”
We tap our little glasses on the bar, one, two, three times, and toss them back, both of us wincing at the taste for a moment before grabbing our beers and heading over to Kat’s table.
“I thought you’d be in the back room playing poker,” Abi chuckles. “Didn’t expect you out here with the common-folk.”
“Poker?” I ask, sliding into a seat. “You guys gamble in here?”
“Duh,” Kat laughs. “It’s a bar. We used to play poker in the back room a lot after closing. My dad had Sunday morning tournaments with his friends, too. I’m surprised he didn’t use the damn place as collateral. Anyway, we used to play for candy when we were teenagers and eventually that turned into quarters, then— Abi, something wrong?”
I look over to see Abi’s fists clenched, right along with her jaw. Her eyes are fixed on the front of the bar, and I tell a storm’s stirring up inside her.
Kat turns around in her chair and scoffs.
“Oh, that’s all. Don’t waste your time worrying about Melissa Walsh. She’s not worth it.”
“Melissa Walsh,” I murmur. “Why do I know that name?”
“She was Carly’s little minion,” Abi practically snarls.
“Still is,” Kat grumbles. “Some people never grow out of being mean girls.”
I follow Abi’s gaze to find our subject, my eyes landing on a woman in a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and a black crop top. She’s lean and wiry, like a model, and pretty in that same slightly too put together way. At the very least I can see why she would have been the popular girl in school.
Melissa seems to notice Kat first, recognition flashing in her eyes, but little else until she sees Abi. It takes her a moment to be sure, but when she’s figured out just who she’s looking at, she immediately turns to me with a seductive smirk. I give her a deadpan stare in response. She’s doing this to get a rise, that much is obvious, but I think if Abi starts glaring any harder, laser beams are going to come out of her eyeballs and burn a hole right through that woman.
“How about we play pool?” I ask, pointing to a table in the corner.
I need to find a way out of this situation, fast.
“Diiiid someone say pool?”
Marcus approaches the table, drink in hand.
“You summoned him,” Kat chuckles, already moving on from Melissa.
Abi, on the other hand, seems like she isn’t letting things go that easily.
“Why so glum, Abs?” Marcus asks.
She flicks her head toward the back of the bar where Melissa’s taken her seat. and Marcus immediately lets out a groan.
“Oh, the royalty’s here . ” He rolls his eyes. “Would you guess she lives in LA now? Runs a celebrity gossip blog called Little Miss Petty, acting like she’s some kind of secret inside source. It’s absolute trash, but it must be making her a shitload of money based on all the expensive shit she posts on her socials. I don’t know if she even does a lick of her own work, I’ve heard she gets thousands of people submitting bullshit every day.”
“So, pretty much the same things she did in high school,” Abi grumbles. “Great.”
“Sure, but who gives a shit? Are we playing pool, or what?” Kat asks. “Because I gotta say, I’ve had just about enough of looking at her.”
I grab my phone, quickly punching Little Miss Petty into Google. What comes up is… well, shocking. An Instagram account with 70 million followers, a website, and a podcast that’s sitting right near the top of the charts.
Yikes.
“Well, her blog looks stupid as shit,” I mutter, locking my phone before Abi can see anything. “Enough of that, let’s play.”
Abi takes the lead, setting up the table while the three of us chat. The game’s always been a comfort for her, at least for as long as we’ve known each other. When she’s stuck on a paper, or needs to blow off some steam, she goes to The Hi-Dive to play by herself. It’s not even really practice, she always says it’s more meditative than anything, but either way, she’s gotten really good over the years.
Table completely set up, Abi passes out our cues.
“Alright, looking good. I’m assuming you and Logan are a team?”
Kat looks surprisingly excited to play for someone who not only owns a pool table, but also the bar it’s located in.
“Sounds good!” I chirp, with Abi nodding alongside me.
After briefly deciding who goes first, Abi breaks, sinking a stripe and following it up with two more before she misses. As Marcus and Kat make their way over to figure out the best angle for their first shot, I take a moment, gently grasping Abi’s chin and running my thumb along her lips.
“You okay?”
“I didn’t like the way Melissa smiled at you, that’s all.”
I can see the shame flooding her face as she’s forced to grapple with her own words.
“And hearing it out loud, I know that makes me sound crazy and jealous and all of that shit, but everything was just starting to get a little bit better and then?—”
I lean in and kiss her forehead, pulling back again to hold her gaze.
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Abi.”
She smiles looking a little bashful.
“Tonight I’m all yours.”