by Danes, Ellie
“Sorry, I knew you probably wouldn’t even have gotten dressed yet, so I came over to help.” Kris bebopped around the room in her way. She was like a breath of fresh air. “Come on. Let’s get you ready. I’ll pick your clothes out if it will get you going. At least you smell decent.”
Kris leaned in. “Is that Colonial Vanilla?”
“You said it was what everyone was wearing.”
“Girl, if you can afford that, then I need a raise,” Kris joked.
We were like two peas in a pod, if peas could be as different as night and day. We had been friends since diapers and daycare. If I hurt, Kris cried. Our looks were polar opposites. While I had the sea-green eyes of Pops, Kris had chocolate brown from her mom, who was second-generation American. Where I was blonde and curly, Kris had beautifully thick Latino brunette hair. I crisped like bacon on the beach, and she darkened to a gorgeous mocha.
Kris leaned over me to look at the computer screen. “Okay, hit send.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
She touched my arm. “What is it?”
“If I hit send, it means it’s real. I don’t want this to be real.”
Kris squeezed me. “Do you want me to do it?”
I nodded, and she slowly reached toward the keyboard. I put my hand on hers.
Kris nodded. “I’m here for you.”
I let the tears fall and stream down my face as I leaned back into Kris and together we hit send. Now everyone would know about the wake for my dad. It was real now. He was gone, and we were going to have to say goodbye and get used to life without him.
“You know it will be the place to be in Asheville today. Pops would be proud of you for holding together and getting things done,” Kris said.
I nodded. Someone had to get things done. Eric was a mess, and there was no one else. It was time to put on my big-girl panties, and I wouldn’t let my dad down.
Kris sat down on a bean bag chair, and I started to shut down the computer. While I was the media guru of Words and Chat, Kris was my feet on the ground. It wasn’t that I was a hermit, I mean, I worked the bar. I just couldn’t hold up the small talk.
She was better with people and loved to know everything about everyone. The town knew her. She got her degree in photography at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. Her pictures were in travel blogs and magazines. When she wasn’t shooting, she was home in the mountains and around the people, food, and places she loved. She had an eye for detail, finding that one angle that changed the look of someone and gave a depth to her photos. She was the only one I used and trusted. Her shots were remarkable, and her portrayals of people made her subjects fascinating.
The bouncers loved her, and she could open doors with just a smile. Her laidback attitude and non-assuming persona made her a favorite of the socialites, and she spent many days taking pictures of them. I helped by giving them a social media presence, so they could go out and live life while I was chained to my computer. Everyone but Courtney Knight-Harris, that was. I wouldn’t do anything to help that bitch.
However, what I did paid nicely, and Kris was an informal partner with a nice contract with W&C because I wanted to make sure she knew how important she was to me.
I brushed the tears away. I needed to give Eric another call.
“Kris, can you call Eric while I change?”
I caught Kris’ deer in the headlights look and laughed.
“You really should just ask my brother out for coffee.”
Kris looked aghast. “What are you talking about? No and no. It’s not what you think.”
“It is what I think and has been since we were freshmen in high school. You know I would be all for it. I’ve told you that for years.”
Kris changed the subject as quickly as she could. “Will Dalton be coming?”
I shrugged and stood up. “No one’s heard from him for years. I doubt he even knows.”
“Do you think Eric called him?”
I laughed, and it sounded harsh. I stood up and paced the floor. “Not if Dalton was the last man on earth. You know how he found Dalton and Courtney together.”
“But that was years ago, and they were both young. Courtney was so not for Eric, and that just proved it.”
“You and I know that, but Eric was all gaga about her. You know how it is with your first and all.”
Kris blushed.
“I’m so sorry. I meant nothing about that. I know you never…”
Kris hunched her shoulders. “It is what it is. I just haven’t found anyone that I would want to… you know. Speaking of that, how long are you and Joe going to be cooled off? Or is it that kiss you told me about that you can’t get over? It’s been just about a decade. It couldn’t have been that great.”
I rolled my eyes. “No. I don’t know. Being with Joe wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. I thought the first time would be earth shattering, and it was more like a soda can popping and finding it flat. Every time I think it is going to be better, it just fizzles. At least for me.”
Kris started laughing and couldn’t stop. It took her a few seconds to stop after I gave her a rolling of my eyes. “So, if Dalton does show up?”
“I don’t even think he remembers me.”
“Please. Who couldn’t remember you? Hourglass figure, curly blond hair, green eyes. You know how the guys at the bar drool over you.” She sighed. “I just hope Courtney doesn’t show up.”
I cringed. “Don’t even say that.”
Kris sat in my abandoned computer chair. “She was such an animal. Slept with every swinging dick in school.”
“Kris! Oh, my God!”
“Well, she did. She would brag about it. Said she couldn’t wait to get her hands on Dalton, but he was having none of it until that day.”
“Yeah, great present. He kisses me and then balls Courtney,” I said, dripping with sarcasm.
“You’re just mad because it was Dalton. She was like a dog in heat. It could have been anyone. Eric broke off the engagement and then two years later, she marries George Harris, the third. You have to remember The Third, in all conversations.”
“Seriously?”
Kris nodded. “They are all over the night scene with her ladies-in-waiting. Never seen so much Botox in one room.” She looked at me quizzically. “If Dalton Dobbins shows up out of the blue, will I need to support your shaking knees?”
Memories of those penetrating azure eyes and those lips went through me.
“Okay, that’s a yes,” said Kris, jumping up. “Time’s a wasting. Let’s get you up and going and I’ll get some breakfast in you since you probably just had coffee. You know how my mom is. ‘Everything is better with food.’”
Kris then did the most Kris thing she could and opened her arms up. I walked into them.
“You’re the bestest friend, Kris,” I said into her shoulder.
“I know. How about we head down to the bar and wake up your brother?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
About forty minutes later, we arrived at The Boar and Brew. I loved riding on the back of Kris’ cycle. I didn’t know if she had one because of, or in spite of, Eric having one.
I buzzed him again after we came through the back door and followed the sound of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” coming from his phone in the office. He lifted his head as the music died out when it rolled to voicemail and shifted his shoulders, a page of the ledger stuck to his face. His back looked like it hurt from falling asleep on top of the books again last night. Why Pops never used QuickBooks Online, we’ll never know. Would have saved us a buttload of issues. Instead, it was pen and paper, ledger style.
“Want some coffee, bro?”
He weakly nodded and got out of the chair. With his ink-smeared face, he walked through the closed bar on his way to the kitchen. I don’t think I had ever seen him look so tired. All-American boy look, six feet, slim, rugged, with his blond stubble barely noticeable on his blue-eyed face, with about six bags of luggage
under each eye.
He went through the swinging doors to the coffee almost by touch, because he didn’t turn the lights on. So, I did.
“What the hell, Taylor? Let me get some coffee in me first before turning the spotlights on would be nice.”
He reheated the old coffee in the pot from last night in the microwave and swigged it hot and black and smiled. He walked back out with me in his wake to find Kris sitting at the bar.
“We’re not open.”
“Funny.”
He spun her around on the barstool and went to the window with his coffee. I joined him, and together we watched Asheville come alive from our little corner where the bar had stood for the last fifty years. It had been a mainstay in Asheville since Pops opened it with his grandfather’s inheritance when he was twenty years old. Poured his heart and soul into his small investment as he thought Asheville needed to have some place where people could come and ‘take their ease’ as he put it.
He bought the buildings around it as they came available, renovated, grew the bar as the town grew. Now it was one of the happening spots for the Asheville night scene. Prime real estate. I watched Eric sip on the hot coffee as he watched people driving to work. For the second time in the last fifty years, the bar would be closed to the public.
Eric rubbed his chest and continued guzzling his java.
“Heartburn? That’s what if feels like when you have nothing but hot coffee in your stomach. Thirty-two years is too young to have heart issues, right? Mind if I run back in the kitchen and whip something up?” Kris asked.
“Sure. You know where everything is.”
She turned to walk away.
“Kris?”
She rocketed around at his voice.
“I appreciate it. Thanks.”
She smiled at him, and he grinned back. It was so cute. I wish they just realized it themselves.
Eric and I walked back to Pop’s office. A couple of boxes were unopen against the wall.
“What are these?” I asked.
“Just something I probably should just deal with, Taylor. Want to give me a hand?”
I nodded. He pulled one over to the desk and sat down. Opening the middle drawer, he found a box opener and rubbed his forehead before he sliced the yellowed tape on the box. He pulled up the lid and the first thing we saw was a picture. Not just any picture, but a picture of Dalton and Eric fresh out of college. Business degree for him; hospitality degree for Dalton. Arms clasped around each other just like the best friends they were in high school and all the way through college. Best buds forever. That was BC. Before Courtney.
We never thought she could blow a hole in a friendship that seemed rock solid. One built of love and respect. One of the only people my brother could call “family”. Someone he loved. But she had. We all knew she had a reputation. Everyone thought Eric had changed her. Everyone but Kris. When Courtney had wrecked our family and burned it down, Kris wasn’t surprised. As Eric dug around in the box, he pulled out some of the old paperwork.
“Let me see those,” I said, grabbing them out of his hands.
It was an old project that Dillon and Eric had worked on for college about putting in an outdoor patio and small stage.
“I remember this,” I said. “I thought this was such a cool idea.”
Eric glanced over my shoulder. “It was. We got an A on it.”
I went over and started digging around in the boxes. There were more pictures. Especially one, which brought memories rushing back. Eric took it out of my hand. The picture showed Courtney posing with her engagement ring while she looked off in the distance. Eric should've known then but being young and thinking with his cock about the great sex, he didn’t notice she wasn’t looking at him but over at Dalton. Even as she was showing off the ring Eric had only moments before put on her finger.
We sat together on the floor in companionable silence.
“I haven’t thought about Dalton in a while.” Eric sighed. “I regret I never called him to let him know Courtney had married some gazillionaire and moved to Wilmington. Didn’t call to let him know you had graduated college. Didn’t call to say Pops was sick.”
I put my arms around him as only a sister could. “Dalton was a kick ass bartender, slinging drinks like a rock star, which he was on the local scene. He was the best bartender we had ever seen. Do you think he’s on Facebook?”
Eric grinned. “I’m pretty sure Dalton never gave one shit about social media. And if he was there somewhere, you would have found him.”
I looked away.
“What?”
“I promised Pops I wouldn’t.”
“But?”
“I may have looked him up once… maybe twice.”
Eric laughed. “Of course, you did.” My brother turned to me. “Think he knows about Tinder?”
That’s how Kris found us, laughing our asses off.
“Time does heal all wounds. Maybe you should call,” I suggested.
Eric reached out toward his phone but pulled his hand back. “I don’t think so. What would I say? ‘Sorry, you haven’t heard from me for years. Taylor grew up, Courtney got married, and oh, yeah, Pops is dead.’ I don’t want any drama.”
Eric stood up and started eating his breakfast, giving Kris a brotherly hug. She gave him a goofy grin. I rolled my eyes.
“So many times, I wish I could have taken back the harsh words I had said him. But what else could I say? I went out to have a smoke and caught Courtney against the wall and Dillon about as deep as a man can be in a woman.”
Kris turned bright red, but Eric didn’t notice. Instead, he made a punching motion.
“I busted my hand on Dillon’s face. When I told her it was time to go, she agreed, pulled down her skirt, and left. In the opposite direction. I didn’t even want the ring back. Felt it would be cursed to give it to anyone else.”
Eric finished off his breakfast and went out to the front to start pulling down the chairs. We followed him out to help.
“Wake’s not for a few hours,” I said.
“I don’t want Peggy to have to do it when she gets in.”
As though she had heard him, Peggy, with her little black skirt and apron and about as Irish as you could get, came swinging through the doors, gray hair in a bun and all no nonsense. Her love of cigars preceded her. She was what really kept everyone on the top of their game. She wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You okay, honey?” she asked Eric in her thick brogue.
“I’ll be okay,” he replied.
She rubbed his arm, just like the grandma she could have been. “Okay, boyo, let me know if you need anything. Girlie?”
“I’m good, Peggy.”
Because she looked like she needed one and she was a hugger, I wrapped her up in my arms. Then Eric came over and lifted us both up in his arms, laughing. We stumbled a bit as he put us both down.
“Make sure you’re there today, Peggy. He won’t want you to be here at the bar. It won’t be the same if you’re not there,” I said.
“I’ll get through it. I’m more concerned with you, Taylor. You want everything to go perfectly. You weren’t like that before you left for college. Things rolled off like you like watering a duck. You need to make sure you have each other to lean on. Who else do you have now?”
She turned to Eric and sniffed the air. “Taylor may be a nitpicker, but boyo, you need a shower bad.”
Eric bent over and took a whiff. “Oh, yeah.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I said.
Peggy headed toward the swinging doors.
“Peggy?” Eric called out to her.
She stopped, hand on the door.
“What would you think about putting an outdoor patio up?”
She squinted her eyes. “Your dad would roll over in his grave. ‘This is a Cheers place, not a place for hipsters,’ he would say. Then he would grab his pipe and head back to his office.”
I laughed.
“You’re probably right,” said Eric.
Peggy walked through the swinging doors to the kitchen. I heard Eric sigh as he looked at the empty space outside where Dalton and he had first envisioned putting in a bar. A lifetime ago.
Chapter Four
Dalton
I heard Eric and Kris on their cycles before I saw them. I arrived about a half hour earlier and had the limo park far enough away I wouldn’t be seen when they arrived. Felt like a stalker, but I wanted to see Eric and Taylor before the funeral to just bite the bullet and get it out of the way. I waited a few moments and Pops’ pickup truck arrived though I didn’t recognize the driver with Peggy. Couldn’t miss that little Irish hellion. She was probably one of the staff borrowing the truck.
Running my hand through my hair, I walked through the funeral home door. I stood at the back and could hear them talking and watched them quietly. Eric had on jeans, a white shirt, and a leather jacket. He looked tired but okay. Couldn’t miss Kris. She had on a long skirt and white peasant top and always followed Eric around, even when she was still in high school. The other girl was fantastic. Blond curls down her back and a solemn black dress fitting the occasion. She was a looker for sure.
Everyone was around the casket viewing Pops.
“They did a nice job,” the curly-haired girl said. “He doesn’t look like he was sick at all.”
Peggy put her arm around the girl. Must be someone close from the bar. Pops was like that. My mom worked for him for years and had me under her feet for most of them. He helped people like that.
Eric said nothing and put his arm around her. I felt a little miffed about that. Must be someone Eric’s seeing. Eric turned, seeing Kris off by herself. “You, too. Come on over.”
Kris walked over to his other side, and he put his arm around her waist. Kris smiled goofily. I wondered if Eric knew Kris was soft on him. He always had a blind spot about her. They went one-by-one to the casket to say their goodbyes and stood there, tears freely flowing, supporting each other. I missed that. God, how I missed that.