Chapter 17 #2
"No, I like talking about her." Spud blew out a breath, hat tipping back as he looked at her.
"Truth is, darlin', I didn't leave Louise because I stopped lovin' her.
I left because I was young and scared and loved her so much it damn near scared me stupid.
I'd just gotten the diagnosis. Doctor said the words heart and failure in the same sentence and all I could think was that I didn't want her hitchin' her whole life to a man who might not be around to see the tomatoes come in.
So, I packed a bag and made it real clean, real final.
Figured she'd hate me, but at least she'd move on. "
He huffed a small, crooked laugh. "Turns out she's meaner than the Grim Reaper. Showed up on my porch a month later, read me my rights, shoved my ring back in my hand, and said she wasn't letting me die alone or live alone. So I married her again. Happiest mistake I ever corrected."
Vivi blinked fast, her throat tightening. "Spud, that's not running away. That's—" She paused, searching for the right word. "Soul deep fear."
He sniffed, waving a hand like feelings were a bothersome fly. "Well, I don't recommend it. Makes a man look real dumb in hindsight."
"Louise must have really loved you."
"Yeah," he said softly, eyes going shiny. "Lucky for me, she was stubborn as a mule with something to prove."
Vivi nudged his arm. "Sounds like you two were the real deal."
"Real deal, real messy, real ours." His eyes cut toward her gently. "Sometimes the people worth keeping stay even when you give 'em every excuse not to."
Vivi watched Spud's easy smile settle into the hum of the afternoon, and her chest ached a little.
She wished—god how she wished—she'd had that kind of love.
Messy, stubborn, till-the-end-of-times loyal.
The kind that didn't blink when the world threatened to pull you under.
And then, just as quickly, she told herself to stop wishing and start living.
If she wanted a love like that, she had to open herself up to actually receiving it. Maybe even let someone in without holding parts of herself back. The scary and vulnerable parts that had been crushed so many times before even the thought of sharing them made her palms sweat.
Spud jerked his chin toward her gypsy camp of bags filled with fundraiser supplies. "What's the clipboard for?"
"I'm looking for volunteers to help with the bunkhouse remodel," she said, her voice ringing with pride.
"The Callahan’s bunkhouse?"
"How did you know?” she asked then waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind. Anyway, we're looking for volunteers from the community to help with demo and you’re my second stop. They’ve done so much for this town, and I want to give the people of Bridlewood a chance to give something back."
"You know where you need to go? The bar."
"I could use a white wine spritzer."
"I was talking about the Summer Sunflower Spectacular meeting. The Bridlewood Regents are meeting to settle the last-minute plans for the big festival. Everyone you'll need to talk to will be there."
"At the Tipsy Cow?" she asked, referring to the bar she and Jo had gone after shopping. One would have thought by the look of abject horror on the old man’s face that she'd just admitted to killing Lassie. "What?"
"Today's Thursday, so it's Lottie's day."
"Who's Lottie?"
"Not only is she the activities director for the Bridlewood Regents, she owns the Drunken Rooster. And she's Dottie's twin."
"The owner of the Tipsy Cow?"
"One and the same," Spud said, like she was finally catching on.
"So there's one stoplight in town and two bars?"
"Seven churches too. Now pay attention. If you want to be treated like one of us, you need to know the history."
"Should I take notes?"
"I would." He gestured to her clipboard and handed her a pen from behind his ear.
"There used to be one bar, but the sisters had a falling out. Haven't spoken a kind word to each other since. That was thirty years ago."
She looked up from writing. "Let me guess. It was over a man?"
"That's not very female-forward of you," he chastised.
"It was over the Summer Sunflower Spectacular chili contest. The year after their dear mama, Mable, passed.
Bless her every loving heart. Anyway, both ladies laid claim to the secret family recipe that went back six generations.
Since it was the same recipe and neither would pull out, they were both disqualified.
"They divided the bar down the middle and pitted townspeople against townspeople," he continued. "It was like our own Civil War until the mayor came up with the idea of taking turns. Every other night we switch bars. Split the holidays fair and square too."
"And today is Lottie's day."
"Yup. And you'll be happy to know Lottie is a bubbles-and-stems kind of bartender. A man can't get a drink that doesn't have a garnish or an umbrella."
Excitement raced through Vivi's veins at the thought of making new friends and becoming a small part of Bridlewood's history. "Sounds like my kind of place."