Chapter 34 Dawsen
Dawsen
It’s absolutely wild how one day you can be one thing, and then the next you can be something completely different because of one singular choice you’ve made.
There have been two choices in my life that I’ve made that have changed the trajectory of things for me.
And not in a good way. I chose to get into a bar fight and drink too much.
That choice led to my mother’s death, which simultaneously ruined my dad’s life as well as my own.
I chose to tell Birdie Banks that I’ve always wanted her.
I chose to tell her in the worst way and with the worst timing and now she wants nothing to do with me.
It seems as though I’m shit at decision making.
It’s been a long week of seeing Birdie everyday, successfully avoiding me, and me trying to respect that.
The way her eyes were wet with tears when she told me to leave her alone at the bar—I didn’t think this could hurt any worse.
But being the reason behind her tears and hurt. It gutted me. I hate myself for it.
She’s almost completely finished with the mural, and it looks so fucking good. I had no idea what she was going to come up with, but it’s insanely beautiful. It’s even better than I could have ever imagined. Her style is so unique, and I love how thoughtful she was with every stroke and detail.
She hasn’t spoken to me much at all except for some random “thank yous” to acknowledge the coffees I’ve had waiting for her, and the few updates of her timeline, which brings us to today.
Her last day. She said she’d be finished by closing time, and if I know Birdie, I know she’s going to make damn sure she is, so she doesn’t have to see my sorry ass here anymore.
I slide between working at The Mercantile and Southbound today.
The tourists always flood in right around Christmas, so we’re especially busy.
I’m putting up string lights in both the shop and the winery today to make it feel a little more festive and cozy for the season.
Savannah also talked me into having a Christmas tree in here as well, to which I obliged as long as I didn’t have to do any of the decorating.
I’m not feeling particularly full of holiday cheer these days.
I’m up on a ladder in the winery when I see Max and his ridiculous car pull into one of the newly vacated parking spots outside.
Awesome. As if it wasn’t torture enough seeing Birdie leave with him that night at The Brick, looking so beautiful, now I have to watch him lay claim on her in my own damn winery.
I finish securing the last string of lights before heading down the ladder. I close it up, and carry it towards the back of the shop and return it to the storage closet.
I decide to make myself busy and round the tasting counter to see if Greg needs any help with service.
“My man. You look like a tiger stalking it’s prey. Down boy.” Greg says to me, using his hands to make a show of it.
“What?” I say defensively, I’m still locked on Max and how he’s annoyingly close to Birdie. I can tell she’s annoyed by the way her shoulders are tensed and she’s taken a step or two back. And truthfully I do feel like a tiger stalking it’s prey.”
“If looks could kill, you’d be jailed for the murder of that fancy man over there.” Greg says with a laugh.
“Fucking asshole.” I huff under my breath as I pick up a glass to be polished.
Greg just laughs and shakes his head knowingly, grabbing the tray of glasses he just poured and heads off to one of his tables.
I’m still polishing when I look up and see Max has appeared and leaned against the bar in front of me, smiling, like a chummy fucking prick.
“Hey man!” He says, cheerfully. Like he thinks his presence will excite me or something.
“Hey, How’s it going?” I ask, trying to sound interested and not like I’ve been making up scenarios in my head about kicking the shit out of him.
“So good. Just came in to have a drink and hang while Birdie finishes up. So good, right?” He asks, turning to face Birdie and jutting his chin towards her, like he’s just discovered how talented she is.
“She’s the best. What can I get you to drink? On the house.”
“Yeah, awesome man, I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay.”
I nod, and give him a pour of my least favorite Chardonnay.
Just when I think he’s going to turn and leave, he does the opposite. He slides up onto the bar stool, leaning a little closer, “So uhh, you’ve known Birdie for awhile, right?” He asks in almost a hushed voice.
I just stare at him for a moment. Awhile? Yeah, I’ve known Birdie for awhile, asshole.
“Yeah, why?” Is all I give him, my hands propped on the bar, trying to not come off as a dick.
“Has she dated many guys? I’m trying to figure out what her dating history has been. She recently told me that she’s a virgin, and it freaked me the fuck out to be honest. I just can’t believe that… look at her—I mean, it’s weird, right?”
“She’s dated a normal amount. And no, I don’t think it’s weird. Maybe she’s just waiting for someone special.”
My blood is boiling. This man is judging a woman for not having sex before she’s good and ready?
And why would that freak him out. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with waiting.
Waiting for when she’s ready. I respect the hell out of that choice.
I actually think it’s sexy as hell. She’s confident and knows what she’s looking for and she’s unwilling to settle. What a fucking clown this prick is.
He just chuckles, backing off a little bit. My tone must have been laced with a bite.
“Yeah… you’re right. I guess I’ll just have to do and say the right things to make sure she thinks I’m that someone special.” He winks, taps the bar, grabs his glass of wine and walks away, “Thanks again, man.” He says, pointing at me and heading back towards Birdie.
Oh hell, fucking no.
I need a minute to compose myself so I head into my office. I’m sweating, my head is pounding and I feel like I’m going to be sick. The blatant disrespect. The whole situation that just played out in my winery, about my Birdie, I’m not letting this go. I don’t have a choice in the matter.
I pull out my phone and open my messages to Birdie.
Me: I need to see you in my office now. Don’t tell Max where you’re going.
Birdie: No. I’m busy.
Me: Birdie, I’m not asking.
Birdie: Oh that’s real funny. You telling me what to do.
Me: I’m not playing. I need to talk to you.
Me: Please, Bird. It’s important.
I get no response, but a minute later, my office door swings open, and she finds me pacing with my hands on the back of my neck. She closes the door behind her and she stands at my desk, arms crossed across her chest, scowl on her face as she looks down at me.
“So? You gonna talk?” She says pointedly, sharp, and cutting.
I stop the pacing and run my hand though my hair, trying to figure out how I should say this.
“You need to stop seeing Max.”
She just rolls her eyes and groans, which turns into an almost laugh.
“My God, Dawsen. Enough.”
“He literally just asked me about your dating history and how he plans on taking your virginity.” I spew out, just needing her to hear it.
Her face goes blank, and her eyes turn sad immediately. I’ve just hurt her, again.
“What… when did he say that?” Her voice is soft, low, quiet, and hurt.
“He came up to the bar for a drink just now and he basically insinuated that I knew your dating history because of how long I’ve known you.
Then he said that you were a virgin, and he thought it was weird, and he said he was going to do and say whatever he needed to, so that he could be the one to change that. ”
“I’m sorry for saying all of this to you, but it pissed me off so fucking much, and I want to punch him in the face for disrespecting you like that. I just thought you should know.”
Her shoulders hang slightly lower, and it pains me to see her standing in front of me like this right now.
“Do you think it’s weird?” Her eyes reach mine, and there’s a sadness in them.
She clarifies before I’m able to answer.
“Do you think it’s weird that I’m still a virgin?”
I walk around to the front of my desk, needing to be closer to her, needing her to understand how she’s so special and anyone who makes her feel anything less than that can fuck off.
I sit on the edge of my desk, positioning myself right in front of her. I grab her arms gently, and hunch down slightly to look at her head on.
“Birdie, there’s absolutely nothing weird about it.
And I’m really fucking sorry that I’m the asshole that is telling you this, but I can’t let that guy get away with treating you that way.
This is your decision, and it fucking made my blood boil listening to him question you and then have the nerve to think he deserves you like that.
Because he doesn’t. And I know this is off base for me to say, but since I’ve been on a roll lately with saying shit I shouldn’t, your virginity is actually so attractive.
It just goes to show how confident you are, and how intentional with your life you are. ”
She just looks at me, her eyes looking misty, and suddenly, she falls into me. She’s wrapped in my arms, her head is just under my chin, and I can feel her body relax in my embrace.
I lean down and plant a kiss on the top of her head, and I hear her let out a soft whimper. I keep my lips in her hair, and bring my hand to the back of her head and run my fingers through a few strands there.
She pulls back just enough to look up at me.
“Thank you.” Her voice soft, and broken.
I look into those eyes and pull her back into my chest.
“You’re precious to me, Birdie Banks. Everything about you is special.” I say, not hoping for any personal gain. I just need her to know that she’s something to behold and not something that can be reduced down to a game or something to be played.
We stand in that embrace for a few more minutes and then she pulls away, wiping at her eyes and giving me a forced laugh, like she’s trying to make light of the situation and everything that just transpired.
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She gestures between us.
“The only thing I’m sorry about is ever letting Max anywhere near you. This is all my fault.”
“Don’t be. A lesson learned is never a waste.” She gives me a tight lipped smile and slowly paces towards the door of my office. Before she walks out, she just looks back again—
“You’re special too, Dawsen.” She leaves before I can say anything.