18. Chapter 18 - Callum
As it turned out, even though he’d lived in Foggy Basin almost his entire life, Paxton hadn’t been to Lover’s Butte, not even during the day, when it was supposedly more of a picnic spot than a place to park and make out.
We swung by the farmer’s market and picked a ton of fresh fruit, bread, and cheese to take up there, along with a bottle of a sweet, summery white wine and some picnic supplies, and took his pickup truck to the overlook.
Once we’d made it to our destination, we spread a blanket in the back of his truck and made ourselves comfortable—well, as comfortable as we could be sitting in a pickup truck bed.
Paxton poured the wine while I spread out the snacks on paper plates we’d grabbed and we ate and drank as we talked.
There was a gentle breeze blowing that cut through the heat of the day and made the limbs on the trees sway and bob gently.
“This is beautiful,” he murmured as he sipped his wine.
“I know. I can’t believe you’ve never come out here. I assumed every teenager came up here at least once or twice during high school.”
He chuckled wryly. “Probably not alone.”
“Come on,” I said, elbowing him gently. “Are you telling me you weren’t the football captain with guys, girls, and nonbinary folks hanging off of you like nobody’s business?”
“Definitely not. Do I look like a football captain?”
He didn’t, not at all. He looked more like he’d been a quiet, shy musician, and I told him so.
“I wasn’t that, either. Just your average kid. I can’t play an instrument, remember? I spent most of my free time in the brew room, helping my uncle.” A small, sad smile formed on his face then, and he sighed quietly.
“Paul, you said?” When he nodded, I cleared my throat and touched the back of his hand gently. “Want to tell me about him?”
He was quiet for a few seconds, long enough that I was about to change the subject when he spoke again. “He was great. A lot younger than my dad, closer to my age. I’m thirty-five now, so Paul is fifty-five. My dad would’ve been sixty-seven this year.”
“Wow, that is an age gap.”
“Yeah. From what I understand, he was a little bit of a surprise. I mean, it makes sense. My grandma, she’s in her nineties now.”
“And where are your grandparents now?”
“Florida. Paul always promised we’d eventually expand the meadery and once we did, we’d have enough staff that we could go visit them without worrying.
Have a general manager working for us, you know?
He wanted to travel. See the US. Maybe the world.
On weekends, he’d build a fire in the fire pit in our backyard and we’d take turns telling each other stories.
All kinds. Fantasy stories, with dragons and fairies and giants, but also ghost stories and science fiction and even the occasional love story.
” When he looked at me, his eyes were shining bright with unshed tears and he cleared his throat a little. “Sorry. We don’t have to—”
“I don’t mind. I like hearing about him. What was his vision for the meadery?”
“Oh man. He wanted us to have a huge event space where people could get married or throw parties, and a brew room that was at least triple the size we have now. He had grand plans to become a nationally known brand.” He took a sip of his wine again, finishing off the glass, before nodding.
“I guess we can check that one off the list, actually. Thanks to you.”
My face heated, a little embarrassed. “It wasn’t exactly intentional. But you’re welcome.”
From there, the conversation shifted to lighter topics.
We talked about my family a little, and what we were both like as teenagers.
I told him about the band I’d joined in high school, and how we’d quickly fallen apart when we realized all three of us played guitar and none of us could write lyrics for original songs.
Warmth filled my chest as I remembered the very good days I'd had growing up in Foggy Basin and as I started to realize that I missed it… missed this part, anyway.
Eventually, the picnic wrapped up and we cleaned up our mess, stashing the trash in a bag.
My head felt light and bubbly thanks to the wine, and once the trash was taken care of, I reached for Paxton and pulled him in for a soft kiss.
When I pulled away, his cheeks had reddened in a light blush.
I went to tug him in again, but he hesitated and pulled away.
“I should probably get back. There’s so much to do, and…”
I gave him a reluctant nod. “You’re probably right. I wanted to submit a few more grant applications anyway. And I’m sure my mom would appreciate it if I spent more time with her for my… last week in town.” My light buzz wore off quickly. Last week in town. My stomach turned just thinking about it.
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and when he spoke, it was a quiet murmur. “Yeah.”
We were both quiet on the ride back, music from the radio filling the space between us, and I wondered if we were both thinking the same thing.
My last week. Seven days and I’ll be gone.
Then what? Maybe Paxton didn’t care. Maybe this…
whatever we’d been doing… had only been a temporary fling to him.
Who are you kidding? I asked myself. That’s all it’s ever been.
That’s all it can be. You’re leaving. Soon.
My stomach churned as the thoughts raced through my mind.
By the time I got home a while later, anxiety was pressing heavily on my shoulders and my chest was tight.
I couldn’t stop wondering what I’d been thinking, getting involved with Paxton in the first place.
It was probably the worst choice I could’ve made.
I should’ve just kept my head down, written my article, and counted down the days until my plane took me away from Foggy Basin once again.
I found Charlie sprawled on my parents’ couch when I came in, watching something mindless on TV and scrolling his phone.
He lifted his chin at me in a nod. “How’s it going?”
I frowned, furrowing my brow. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Had the day off. Figured I’d lurk here, see if you wanted to hang out. I didn’t know you’d be gone half the day though.”
“Sorry,” I said with a grin. “I was busy.” My phone vibrated then, several messages coming in all at once. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at it, confused.
“You okay?” Charlie asked as I stared at my phone.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. It… it’s from my boss.”
“Everything okay?”
Sinking down on the couch, I nodded again. “I think so. It’s my next assignment.” My stomach turned and my mouth tasted tinged with acid as I confronted the reality that I really was leaving. Soon.
“Is it a good assignment, at least?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “It’s very good.
They want me to go on what they’re calling the ‘Fermentation Trail.’ A tour of different countries to learn about different alcoholic beverages.
More about the history of mead, along with sake, palm wine, beer, with room to expand into other topics.
I’d be gone for three months. Europe, Asia, Africa. ”
Charlie let out a low whistle. “Jesus. That is a good assignment.”
“It is. Besides all the flying, I guess.” I was stunned as I took it all in.
“Yeah… I know that’s not your favorite part.
I laughed and it sounded a little bitter. “That’s an understatement.”
“When do you leave?”
I read the email again. “Two weeks from now.” I’d have exactly one week from the time I left Foggy Basin to go back to home until the day I left for Europe. I looked at Charlie and I knew my face must’ve given something away because he sat up and dropped his voice to a softer tone.
“Hey. You okay?”
I took a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to leave again so soon. I have things to take care of back home and… I don’t know.”
Charlie watched me for a moment. My throat tightened and I could feel the sting of emotion in my eyes. “Do you have to go?”
Another slow breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have much of a choice. It’s a career-making kind of assignment, you know?”
“How long do you have to decide?”
I took another glance at my phone. “I need to tell him by Friday.”
He hummed quietly. A beat passed before he voiced what I’d been thinking. “So… what about Paxton?”