19. Evan
I didn’t seeFrannie for the next four days. She was gone in the mornings before I left for work and didn’t come home at night until after I’d gone to bed. I blamed Miller for making me feel like I needed to tell Frannie how I felt, but I was most angry with myself. The two of us needed to talk. It was long overdue and if we had any chance of salvaging our friendship, it needed to happen sooner rather than later.
With Cole’s rehearsal dinner and wedding happening over the next two days, I decided Thursday night was my last chance to fix things before I had to see her with Andrew Fucking Stewart. So I planted my ass on the couch, prepared to wait for her all night long if necessary. She’d been taking Pete the Dog with her to work every day, and I had no idea where the two of them were spending time after she left school until she snuck into my place late at night.
They were probably going to Andrew’s. In fact, he’d probably offered to let her move in with him instead. Maybe that’s why she’d been avoiding me. She was trying to figure out how to tell me things were getting serious between them.
The rational part of my brain told me I was making shit up and letting my thoughts spin out of control, but I ignored it. Losing Frannie hurt. Even though we’d only spent one evening in each other’s company at my place, she was everywhere I looked.
Her beaver quilt was still draped over the back of the couch. I hadn’t moved it since the night we watched that movie together. Well, she’d napped through the movie, and I’d spent the whole time watching her.
I’d unpacked her fancy coffee maker and set it up on the counter for her. I had no idea how to use it, but she’d been making coffee in it every morning before she left for work.
My spare bedroom was full of her things. I didn’t dare go in there since I’d fucked things up so much the last time I’d entered, but if I stood in the doorway, I could breathe in her scent and pretend we were still friends.
Living in limbo, not know where things stood with us, was driving me out of my mind. So when the front door opened just after eleven on Thursday night, I vowed come hell or high water, we’d figure out what the new normal would be.
“Hey.” I’d been sitting in the corner of the couch in the dark for the past hour, waiting for her to come home.
Frannie shrieked and dropped the dog’s leash. “Evan, you scared me.”
Pete the Dog bounded over and covered my face with sloppy, wet kisses. I pushed him out of tongue’s reach while I stretched over the arm of the couch to flip on the lamp.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” It had only been a few days since we’d seen each other, but I’d missed her.
“It’s okay. What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” She shrugged her jacket off and hung it on a hook before coming into the front room.
I got up from the couch, so happy to see her that I had to fight the urge to walk over and pull her into a huge bear hug. “I’ve been waiting for you. We need to talk, Frannigan.”
“I know.”
I’d expected her to put up a little resistance. She’d never liked having hard conversations. That’s one of the reasons she was always so agreeable—she hated letting people down or feeling their disappointment.
“With Cole’s wedding coming up and you going with Andrew—”
“I’m not going with Andrew.”
“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. “Aren’t you his plus-one?”
“Not anymore. I broke things off.” She slumped onto the couch. “He’s a nice guy, but he’s not the one for me, especially if it means putting our friendship or my relationship with your family at risk. He wasn’t too surprised. Sounds like both of us were trying to make more out of what was there.”
My heart skipped a few beats, then started bouncing around like a catfish that had been pulled out of the river and flung onto a sunny dock. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Are you?” Frannie looked up at me, her eyes narrowed. Then her lips broke into a slight smile. “It was killing you to think I was dating a Stewart, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, a little.” Hope rose in my chest. “Does that mean you might be willing to be my plus-one at the wedding?”
“If the invitation’s still open.”
“Of course it is.”
“Good. Then I accept.” She patted the cushion next to her. “Want to sit down and tell me what’s been going on with you over the past few days?”
I’d take any excuse to be close to her, so I sat down on the couch next to her and filled her in on the few things that had happened since she’d been avoiding me.
“Cole heard back from the lab about the yeast. They weren’t able to fully isolate the strain that was used, but the results narrowed it down to just a few. He’s trying a couple of small batches to see if he can get closer to matching Devil’s Distinct.”
“Who knew it would be so difficult to make whiskey?” she deadpanned. She almost had me until she bit down on her lip and a laugh forced its way out.
“Good one.”
“I try.”
“What have you been up to besides avoiding me?” The pain that had been lodged deep inside my chest faded away with each flash of her eyes and upturn of her lips.
“I haven’t been avoiding you. Not really. School’s been busy. I had to break up a betting ring around dodgeball at recess. You know, the usual.”
“A betting ring? You mean Beaver Bluff Elementary has its own bookie? Who was running point on that?” I was a little impressed, and also slightly disappointed I’d never come up with that idea back when I thought my friends and I ruled the school.
“One of the Stewart kids. I talked to his dads and based on their response, I don’t think we’ll have any other issues.” She pushed off the couch and got to her feet. “How’s your leg?”
“Good as new. I’ve made some real progress lately.” I stood up next to her like being able to stand on two legs would prove it. I hadn’t told anyone about my recent trip into Knoxville to see a pain management specialist. The steroid injection he gave me had acted as a nerve blocker. One of the warehouse managers had even commented that my limp was barely noticeable.
“That’s great. I told you it would all work out if you just kept up your physical therapy. Now there’s nothing to stop you from pulling out all your moves on the dance floor.” She bumped hips with me.
I’d missed this… the joking around that felt just as natural as breathing whenever I was with her. “You’ll save me a dance, right?”
“Of course.”
This close, even in the dim light from the lamp behind her, I could see the familiar curve of her lips and the affection in her eyes. I didn’t want to push my luck, especially after reaching this fragile familiar territory, so instead of pulling her in tight, I held out my arms and asked if I could have a hug goodnight.
“I’ll always have a hug for you.” She wrapped her arms around me, snuggling into my chest.
If I could have stopped time right then and there, that’s exactly how I would have liked to spend the rest of eternity.
“I suppose you’re ditching me for our regular Friday night burger at Pappy’s tomorrow night, huh?” Her voice muffled against my t-shirt, but I could tell she was just giving me crap.
“Yeah, big brother’s rehearsal dinner trumps our Friday night routine. Sorry.” If it were up to me, I’d much rather hang with Frannie at Pappy’s than be trapped with relatives from out of town I hadn’t seen in years. The only good thing about the rehearsal dinner was they were having it at Jackie Jay’s. “As my official plus-one, you’re invited to the rehearsal dinner, though. Want to come?”
Frannie backed away, her head slowly shaking from side to side. “Absolutely not. But bring me a piece of pie, will you? They always serve the best desserts.”
“You got it.” I waited until she’d closed the bedroom door behind her before I went into my own bedroom. With Andrew out of the picture, Operation Woo Frannie Masterson was back on track. And thanks to the doc in Knoxville, I felt more like myself than I had since the day I’d been airlifted out of Afghanistan.
My luck was changing, and it was time to take advantage of it.
Frannie had already leftfor work the next day by the time I rolled out of bed. Since most of the folks at the distillery were going to be attending the wedding, Vaughn had slowed operations down to operate on a skeleton crew through the weekend. I took my time getting going, so I didn’t see the diary Frannie left on the kitchen table until I finally dragged myself into the kitchen to make coffee.
She’d marked a few places with sticky tabs and jotted down a couple of notes in her curly handwriting. I couldn’t wait to dig in to what she’d learned about Cornelia Bishop so far, so I carefully flipped open to the first page she’d marked while the coffee pot belched out the first drips of coffee.
The handwriting had faded over the years and the pages were stained with old age and who knew what else. Frannie definitely had an easier time deciphering the old-fashioned script, but I was mostly able to follow along.
I tried to remember a woman named Cornelia in my family’s long line of ancestors. There was a Helen, a Roberta, and a couple of Rubys—including the great-grandmother my sister had been named after—but no Cornelias came to mind. She’d noted her birthday on the very first page, which would make it easier to look her up, and also her age of sixteen at her first entry.
The morning flew by as I got lost in a Beaver Bluff that existed over a hundred and fifty years ago. Beyond the difference in daily routine, like getting up early to start the fire and her complaining about having to use the outhouse, especially on those cold winter mornings, Cornelia sounded like the girls I’d gone to middle school and then on to high school with.
I went through the whole pot of coffee while I skimmed through pages full of her daydreams. She was sweet on some boy and went on and on about the plans they’d made for their future. I finally reached another page Frannie had marked. At first, I wasn’t sure what she thought was so significant. Then I read a few lines about Cornelia talking about her dad reaching an agreement with two neighboring families to start up a whiskey distillery.
The business had been formed over homemade stills in the hills of Beaver Bluff, long before the founders had gone legit and built a real factory. My grandfather used to tell us stories that had been passed down through generations about the hype surrounding the opening of the distillery. People came from hundreds of miles away to stare at the big copper distilling pots. Having a firsthand account in Cornelia’s diary made it feel real. Cole was such a history buff, especially about anything involving the distillery, that he was going to love getting his hands on this.
I thought about wrapping it up and giving it to him as a wedding gift. Technically, I’d paid for the diary, even if Frannie had been the one to find it. But I had a feeling there was more to Cornelia’s story than her dad’s business and her childhood crush. He’d be just as happy to have it after Frannie and I had a chance to read through.
Reluctantly, I left it sitting on the table and headed back to the bedroom to get dressed. Cole hadn’t wanted a bachelor party, but my brothers and I had decided we were taking him out after the rehearsal dinner. It was going to be a long night, and I didn’t want to be late and give anyone in my family another reason to be pissed at me.