Chapter Twenty-Two
“Why does it have to be a Wednesday?”
Aspen’s bemoaning fell on inattentive ears.
Salvador and the kitchen staff were too busy trying to whip each other with aprons than listen to her whining.
She shifted her weight, crossing her arms as she watched the three of them run and yell in the kitchen, not a care in the world.
It was selfish to be jealous, but it was her birthday. Why couldn’t she share in that joy?
“Hey, kiddo,” Salvador yelled, darting out of Ben’s grasp. “Throw me the tongs!”
Aspen looked over at the utensil but found herself unable to reach for it.
Her mind instead drifted to Mo, wondering what she was doing right now.
What they would both be doing if Aspen hadn’t told her to leave?
Guilt washed over her again, so she pushed through, grabbing the tongs and sliding them down the long prep counter toward Salvador.
“Aspen!” Virginia’s curt yell echoed from out in the bar.
She turned and, excited for a distraction, quickly darted through the swinging door to scan the bar.
Still no patrons in sight, just the dying light of sunset filtering through the dated bar shades.
Aspen turned toward Virginia, who was standing near one of the main bar stations, wiping down a pint glass. “What’s up?”
“Been thinking,” Virginia replied lazily, continuing to wipe the glass like she was an extra on Cheers. “Wanna think with me?”
“Bar is dead,” Aspen mused, moving next to Virginia before reaching into the small dishwasher near Virginia’s legs. She grabbed a piping-hot rocks glass with her bare hand before snatching a spare rag off Virginia’s apron. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Virginia only grumbled nonsensically in return.
Aspen’s body was abuzz with tension. Was this the time?
Was she acquiring the bar? A part of her yearned for the responsibility, even as the rest of her wanted to see Mo.
To be back on the trail, answering random questions, picking little fights, and lighting another fire.
The memories were so consuming that she almost didn’t hear Virginia’s question.
“Do you remember how we met?”
Aspen nearly dropped the glass she was wiping. “Uh, yeah, when I was a kid. I always went to Janice—your mom’s house—when my parents were away. You kinda took over after she passed.”
“I am sure you know this, but my momma was really fond of you. She hated seeing you locked in that tiny-ass RV for days at a time, wailing for your parents to come home.” Virginia turned to look at Aspen, her eyes serious.
“Watching them same movies on repeat. Eating ramen. Talking to no one but your stuffies.”
“I owe her a lot,” Aspen said, slightly uncomfortable with this conversation. “She saved my life.”
“No, no. She told me the story. You saved your life by reaching out to her. Sure, she was an adult and she was willing, but you always knew when to get yourself the help you needed. When I took care of you after she died, I never forgot her words.” Virginia swallowed harshly.
“‘Kid’s got more than just a will to survive. She wants to live.’”
Aspen didn’t respond, instead twisting to rack the glass she was holding before gingerly grabbing another.
Her skin was prickling with energy, her heart yearned to see Janice again.
To introduce Janice to Mo. Watch Janice glare at Mo and click her teeth, always a tad more judgmental than a situation called for. Her stomach did a flip at the thought.
“So, with that in mind, my answer is no,” Virginia stated with gusto, turning to rack her glass and cross her arms. “I’m gonna sell the bar. Just not to you.”
Aspen’s face fell, but she very quickly noticed it was the only part of her body that responded. “What?”
A small smile curved at the edge of Virginia’s lips. “I ain’t selling this bar to you, Aspen Anderson.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t what you want. You want to live.
To actually live. And for once, I want you to acknowledge that being here…
this ain’t the living you want.” Virginia pointed toward the back of the bar.
“Living in the redwoods, sure, I’d believe that.
But Orick? This bar? This life? No, this ain’t your calling.
This is where you’ve run to, but it ain’t where you’re gonna live. ”
Aspen couldn’t do anything but laugh, blinking rapidly as she tried to digest Virginia’s words.
“Am I wrong?”
“No,” was all Aspen could get out before she moved to lean against the bar. “I just—I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s your damn birthday, for Christ’s sake.” Virginia scoffed, pointing toward the parking lot. “Get in your car and drive down to the Bay. I am sure if you scream ‘Butch’ a few times on the street corner, some nice lesbian will save you.”
“If I did that…” Aspen turned to glare at Virginia, feeling no animosity toward the statement. “I wouldn’t find the butch I want—”
Virginia shot forward, gripping Aspen in her arms tightly. “Finally, you admitted it! I thought I was gonna have to resort to putting an ad in a paper. Or maybe calling the feds. Do they help find lost lesbians?”
“I don’t think the FBI finds people just because you were shitty to them.” Aspen giggled, pulling her arms out so she could return the hug. “I’m sorry, how did you not selling the bar to me turn into me being happy?”
“Because it wasn’t about the damn bar, you peanut.” Virginia squeezed her harder. “It’s about you finally acknowledging you fucked it up with Mo.”
“You remembered her name,” Aspen uttered softly, leaning back to look into her eyes.
“I do know it, contrary to popular belief.” Virginia hummed, shifting her weight. “Look, I ain’t saying Mo is the end-all be-all of your problems. But if I didn’t push you to try, what kind of mom would I be?”
Aspen’s heart skipped a beat. “Aww, Virginia. I don’t know—”
“Don’t you say a word.” Virginia sniffed, holding up a shaky finger. “You’ll make an old woman cry.”
“I just…” Aspen turned to look at the door. “I think I really messed this one up.”
“Naw, just made it a little more difficult. Besides, you don’t really need to find anything to do just yet. You still have a job here, and you’ve got a few backpacking trips lined up. There is still time.”
“Time, huh?”
“Remember what you said when you got back?”
Aspen shook her head, her eyes still on the front door.
Just as she was about to turn back to Virginia, some movement in the small window of the door drew her attention.
She focused in on a familiar brown tuft that was barely visible.
Aspen’s heart began to race. She held her breath as she waited for the door to swing open.
Standing in front of her was a nervous-looking Mo, decked out in one of the hiking outfits she had picked out for her.
“Mo?” Aspen whispered, her mind unable to process the whirlwind that was the past ten minutes.
“Happy birthday!” Mo announced loudly, lifting her arms up slightly to show a pair of coffees and what looked like tin-foil-wrapped sandwiches. “I believe it goes…Hi! I’m not a stalker or serial killer, but instead a very sorry woman with delicious coffee.”
Aspen could only stare, her mouth hanging open slightly as a slight chuckle escaped her lips.
“You said, ‘I’m not cut out for love.’” Virginia’s lowered voice scared her, and she turned to meet the woman’s knowing gaze. Before Aspen could react, Virginia leaned forward and undid her apron. “Prove that was just a fib and get out of here.”
“All right,” Aspen breathed, quickly removing the apron before darting to escape from behind the bar. Just as she made it halfway across the room, she stopped abruptly. “I gotta clock out.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Virginia chastised.
Aspen nodded, shuffling quickly until she was right in front of an extremely anxious-looking Mo. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Mo shrugged, the lopsided smile seemingly stuck to her face. She suddenly pushed a coffee cup toward her. “For you. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.” Aspen took it, studying the cup. “Wait, did you get this—”
“From the gas station. I, uh, asked next door. Odessa was very kind to me.”
“How did you—”
“Sorry. I’ll explain. I meant to be here this morning, but I didn’t start driving until like ten.
It took a lot of convincing to get Joe to open up and make these just for me.
Especially with it not being breakfast and all.
Anyway, uh, here.” Mo handed her a toasty sandwich.
“Bacon, egg, and cheese. All I had to do was drop your name. Both Odessa and Joe bent over backward to make this pretty meager birthday celebration happen. Sorry it’s not more, I just…
I had to come back. And if I thought too much about it, I was gonna chicken out. ”
Aspen searched Mo’s eyes, sincerity and affection written plainly on them. Guilt built up from her stomach, and she flicked her eyes toward the door. “Wanna get out of here?”
“Yeah, if you want to.” Mo shifted again. “You can just take these and have a happy—”
“Shh, let’s go.” Aspen put the sandwich in the crook of her palm next to her coffee, then grabbed Mo’s free hand, dragging her toward the door.
* * *
Aspen had no idea where to take them, so she just told Mo to follow her back to her cabin.
The drive felt more like teleportation, and she soon found herself gripping her coffee and sandwich on her porch, watching as Mo backed her Outback into the spare spot by her shed.
It felt awkward to stand and wait, so she quickly looked around, remembering she still hadn’t bought any furniture for her deck.
“Shit,” Aspen grumbled.
“We can just sit on the steps,” Mo offered, suddenly standing in her pathway, still smiling that adorable smile. “Though it is getting a bit dark.”