LIFE IN SUGAR MOUNTAIN
ADDISON
P atrick and Matthew had been huddled together for an uncomfortable length of time. They were talking so softly that even in my attempt to eavesdrop, I couldn’t make out a single word they were saying. Thankfully, Bella reappeared with two new drinks and distracted me from my mission. She gently slid them toward me and my sister, careful not to spill a drop. The rim of the glass was decorated with gold and white sparkles.
“Which one is this?” I took a sip, breathing in the sweet vanilla scent.
It was just as delicious as the last one had been, but it was a little too sweet for me.
“It’s the sugar cookie martini. It’s good, right?” Bella wiped her hands on a towel before putting it down.
“So good,” Sarina said as she took another drink. “You are really talented.”
“Thanks,” Bella said, but I could tell that she wasn’t entirely comfortable with my sister being in the bar and the attention Matthew kept giving her.
I understood completely. If Patrick were in here, flirting with some other woman right in front of me, I wasn’t sure I could keep my composure. Bella held it together far better than I ever would.
“I’m gonna head home. Jasper’s there alone ’cause Bella won’t let me bring him in here,” Patrick announced as he stood up to leave.
My heart started pounding inside my chest.
Bella rolled her eyes. “He’s a dog, Patrick. This is a bar.”
My eyes scanned the length of my ex-boyfriend’s body. Worst title ever. My fingers still itched to run themselves through his long and shaggy hair. I didn’t even mind the length. And the beard that was growing was so freaking hot. Maybe the Christmas cosmo had gone to my head. Or maybe I just really missed him.
“It was good to see you,” I said as he leaned down to give me an awkward hug.
His lips pressed against the side of my head, and I felt his warm breath near my ear as I braced for whatever he was about to say to me, but no words came.
Then, he was gone.
“You okay?” Sarina nudged me with her shoulder.
I nodded, my eyes meeting both Bella’s and Matthew’s, who looked at me with so much sadness that it practically filled the saloon.
“Stop, you two. Don’t look at me like that.” I reached for my glass and slid it toward my sister so she would finish it.
I really shouldn’t drink any more alcohol if I wanted to keep a clear head—not to mention drive us back home safely.
“Maybe we should go do that shopping now?” I asked Sarina, and she reached for my glass and finished it off in one gulp.
“Sounds good to me.” She shrugged like she didn’t have a care in the world. “It was nice to meet you both.”
I prayed Matthew wouldn’t get up and walk us outside. I couldn’t have him trying to hook up with my sister. Not when Bella was in here, clearly pining over him. And not when my sister would attempt to eat him alive, but he’d probably only devastate her instead. The idea alone was too disastrous to even contemplate.
Our exit was quick and uneventful. Matthew stayed put. Bella’s tense shoulders actually relaxed as we headed out the door without him. And we were walking toward the general store on Main Street before anyone could stop us.
After almost two hours of wandering the aisles of the general store, we arrived back at our dad’s house with more packages than we could carry. Literally. We had to make multiple trips from the car to the house and back again.
“I see the shopping was a success,” Dad said as soon as he saw us with our arms full.
“Who knew?” I asked, unable to hide the surprise in my voice.
The general store had a variety of items, but I’d honestly never thought that Sarina would find so much stuff to decorate her room with. Then again, she had been fueled by alcohol and picking things I was sure she was going to question later.
The whole idea was silly, but it was also kind of sweet. Shopping for a room she wasn’t going to live in. Maybe she’d visit more often now that she’d seen what it was like here? I wasn’t sure, but I loved the very thought of it. As long as I was here too. It would definitely feel weird if Sarina came to Sugar Mountain without me.
“I might have gone a little overboard.” Sarina grinned as she hauled her treasures up the stairs and into her room.
Once she was gone, Dad shot me a look. “She really found that much stuff?” he asked, his shock as obvious as mine had been. “At the general store?”
“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are.” I laughed.
“It’s really neat, having her here. Thanks for bringing her with you.”
Sarina was bounding down the stairs, halting our conversation.
“So, where else did you two go?” our dad asked, his dark eyes focused on Sarina.
“The saloon.” Sarina smiled, her full lips curving all the way up. She looked genuinely happy. “Bella makes good cocktails.”
“Ahhh.” My dad grinned, his body leaning against one of his crutches awkwardly. “So, you’re drunk then?”
“I’m definitely tipsy.” Sarina laughed as she put up a single finger and nodded.
“That explains all the bags,” he countered.
“Think I’ll have buyers’ remorse later?” she asked seriously as her smile dropped.
“It’s definitely possible,” I answered. “You bought some questionable things.”
I started giggling at the over-the-top glitter decor she’d grabbed from the party section of the store. The kind of items that were meant to be used one time, but Sarina had insisted that they were brilliant . Her word, not mine.
She waved me off. “It’s fine. I’ll love it. And once I’m done, I’m going to post it up on my socials. Show the masses how you can make something simple and affordable still look chic.”
I started choking. “Please don’t post anything until you’re sober. Mother will murder me for allowing it.”
“She would definitely blame you,” Sarina said, and I turned to look at my dad.
“How is your mother?” he asked, but I could tell he was only doing it to be polite. As long as his daughters were safe and okay, the rest of it was of no concern to him, my mother included.
“Bossy,” Sarina answered at the same time as I said, “Mean.”
Dad’s eyebrows pulled together, and I watched as his face wrinkled with concern. “She’s mean and bossy?” he repeated.
“She’s opinionated. And concerned with appearances,” Sarina tried to explain, and I wondered if that’s how she’d always been.
“I can’t stand here like a flamingo anymore. Can we go sit in the kitchen?” Dad asked.
I hadn’t noticed him basically standing with his cast foot hovering inches above the ground.
He reached for the other crutch and hopped on them toward the kitchen table before sitting down in his chair at the head of it. Sarina and I followed behind. She took a seat, and I went to grab us all some waters. My sister definitely needed to hydrate. Pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen from the cabinet, I poured a few into my hand and gave them to her.
“Thanks,” she said before tossing them in her mouth and finishing off the whole glass.
I reached for it and refilled it once more.
“You need anything, Dad?” I asked, and he gave me a nod.
“There’s beer in the fridge. I’ll take one.” He smiled, and Sarina whooped.
“Yes! Get on my level!” she shouted, and Dad laughed.
“That would take a lot more than beer, I’m afraid,” he said before repeating our words back to us once more. “So, your mother”—he paused—“she’s mean and bossy?”
“Well, I don’t think she’s mean,” Sarina piped up before adding, “But Addi does.”
I sat down at the table and rolled my eyes. “She is kind of mean.” I started to backtrack before realizing that I didn’t want to sugarcoat her personality. “Or maybe she’s just not very motherly,” I offered with a shrug, like I even had anyone to compare it to other than the things I’d seen on TV and in movies.
Sarina threw a hand up. “That’s actually a very good analogy.”
It wasn’t an analogy at all, but I just grinned instead of correcting her.
“She is not motherly. She’s all business, all the time.”
Dad did not look pleased, hearing this. I reached out for his forearm and gave it a squeeze.
“Does that upset you? Was she always like that?”
He shook his head. “I’m only upset if it hurts you girls. And, no, she used to be fun and lighthearted. But she changed pretty quick after having you.”
“How so?” Sarina asked at the same time I said, “I can’t imagine her ever being fun.”
Dad gave us both a half-hearted shrug. “It was a long time ago. I don’t know your mother anymore, and I’d hate to speak for her. But after having you both, she got real bored, real fast. The life that I thought we both wanted wasn’t enough for her. I don’t know how to explain it, but it was like her entire personality shifted. The woman you both describe definitely isn’t the girl I once knew.”
“She’s been like this forever,” Sarina said. “I think I’m used to her quirks and her attitude, but Addi definitely was not.”
“I mean, come on!” I shouted. “Compared to this guy”—I thumbed toward our dad—“it’s not like she’s a walk in the park, all sweet and understanding.”
“She is definitely not that. Her expectations are high. Her expectations for her daughters are higher. And, man, does she ever hate this place.” Sarina blew out a breath like those last words hadn’t been a slap on my and my dad’s faces.
“Enough about her.” Dad pretended like he was unaffected, but his mouth always did this little twitch thing when he was trying to play it cool. “Pizza?”
“Yes, please,” I said before hopping out of the chair so fast that it scraped against the floor.
Running toward the landline phone on the wall, I pulled it off the receiver and dialed up our favorite pizza place in Sugar Mountain. The magnet was still stuck on the fridge, the phone number displayed, but fading, like it had been for years.
“You’ll eat a slice, won’t you? Or do you want me to order you a salad?” I pinned Sarina with a look that told her to please eat actual food for once. I couldn’t bear trying to explain to our dad that she seemed to exist on liquids alone when we were in Manhattan.
“I’m honestly starving,” she said. “But still get me a salad,” she added with a pleading look.
Once everyone was taken care of and the food was ordered, I sat back down at the table, and the three of us stared at each other.
“The pizza won’t be like what you’re used to in New York,” my dad suddenly said.
“He’s right. It’s not the same at all,” I agreed.
“It’s fine. The only pizza that’s better than New York is in Rome anyway,” she said, like everyone could relate to that statement.
“I’ll take your word for it,” Dad said as he took a swig of his beer. “So, Addison”—he focused on me—“how are things for you in the big city?”
I shrugged. If he had called me while I was there and asked me that question, I would have lied and said that things were fine, that I was happy… enough . But now that I was back in Sugar Mountain, the answer felt forced. I’d had some pretty big wins in Manhattan, but as I sat in my childhood home, they didn’t feel so much like wins in the grand scheme of things. They felt like a cage, keeping me trapped in a place I didn’t truly want to be in.
“They’re good, professionally speaking.” I emphasized the last part. There. Not a lie. “I got an offer to open up my own restaurant.”
Sarina’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “What? You never told me about that. What offer? From who?”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I said as I took a sip of water.
“Does Mom know? She’s going to totally flip out.” Sarina’s tone was still pure shock.
I shook my head. “No one knows. Except the two of you.”
“What does this mean?” my dad asked.
The restaurant business was so far out of his wheelhouse, especially the one in New York City. It was its own beast. An entire lifestyle and world that no one experienced, unless you were a part of it.
“It means that if I say yes, this guy will get all the money together to open a restaurant. I get to be the head chef. Create the menu, implement it. Hire the staff. It’s actually a really incredible opportunity,” I said, but there was no real excitement behind my words, and I wondered if he’d pick up on it.
“Who’s the backer?” Sarina asked because even though she wasn’t in the food world, her status as an influencer meant that she knew a little about every industry in the city.
“Frederique,” I said, knowing that she’d know exactly who he was.
Sarina whistled. “Holy shit, Addison. Frederique is huge.”
“I know.”
“I don’t. Who is this guy? What makes him so great?” My dad didn’t seem impressed or happy.
I knew he was proud of all of my success, but he also knew that if I accepted this offer, I’d stay gone even longer. Maybe too long to ever come back.
“He’s a big-deal investor. Every restaurant he opens becomes the hottest thing in Manhattan. He’s extremely successful, and he has a knack for choosing top-notch talent,” Sarina said with a grin on her face. “Imagine all the events we could host there. I can go live, do behind-the-scenes content, show the restaurant from the ground up, with you as the focus. I’ll have the place blowing up online before you even open! You’ll be booked out with reservations months in advance.”
My little sister knew exactly what she was doing when it came to online marketing. I trusted her implicitly and knew that she could one hundred percent back up the promises she was making to me right now. She truly was that influential.
If Sarina Whitman told you to go somewhere, you went there. And you did it with a smile on your face, even if you had to wait in line for hours.
But do I even want that?
I wasn’t so sure anymore. At least not in this moment, when I was in the only place that had ever felt like home.
I glanced back at my dad, but there was an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite read or make out.
“What are you thinking?” I decided to come right out and ask instead of wonder to myself.
His lips were pursed together tight. “I’m thinking that you really need to go see the home that boy built.”
“What home?” I asked, not having the faintest idea of what my dad was referring to.
“He built a house, Addison. With his own damn hands. You need to see it before you make this decision. You need to know what you’re leaving behind if you say yes to this big-deal investor guy.”
“Dad,” I breathed out, my voice shaky because his words were like knives straight to my heart.
“Patrick built you a house?” Sarina asked, thoroughly confused. “Is that what you’re saying, or am I still drunk?”
My heart felt like it was exploding inside my chest. Had Patrick built the home we’d always talked about? I pictured the sketch in my head, and my eyes instantly started to water. We’d talked about it so many times. Dreamed it up. Loved it, even when it was just some pencil lines on paper.
“Where is it?”
“He bought the old Aimsley farm.”
My throat was clogged with emotion. My eyes threatened to spill over with tears and never stop. The way this town was able to keep a secret when it wanted to was downright impressive. No one had told me anything about the house or Patrick building one.
“Should I go over there now?” I was suddenly hit with the urge to go and see it for myself. It didn’t matter that it was almost dark and that pizza was on the way. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat any now anyway.
“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” Dad said, his hand reaching across the table to hold mine.
“I’m not sure I can,” I admitted, feeling restless and antsy.
“Sweetheart,” my dad said, “this is something you need to see in the light of day. Wait until tomorrow.”
I reluctantly agreed as my mind spun with the possibilities of what I’d be faced with when I got there.