And there would definitely be no temptation in taking the longest way possible back to the bar so she could see the old movie theater where we used to make out through every movie that came out. Our only criteria for picking out what movie we were going to go see was figuring out which one of them was the longest and had the lowest chances of a lot of children being there.
It was just poor decision making all around. And it came to a head when we got back to the bar and I opened that door to see her big eyes staring back at me. Whether it was the little trip down memory lane we took on our way there, or the smell of the pizza, or the way she licked her lips the way she always did, I had the strongest compulsion to kiss her.
At the very last second, I managed to stop myself. Maybe it was knowing my brothers were right inside and could pop out at any second. Maybe it was worrying about how the hot pizzas were probably burning Ava’s thighs through the boxes propped on her lap. And maybe it was just realizing it wasn’t the best idea. But I didn’t take that chance and give her the kiss I wanted to.
Holding back didn’t make the urge go away. If anything, it only made me want it more. Even after we brought the pizzas inside and sat down with my brothers to eat before getting started with work for the day, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to kiss Ava. Every time she brought a slice of pizza to her lips or licked away a bit of sauce, it made my stomach clench and I had to look away.
I wished I would have just done it. She was staring right back at me and didn’t seem to be in any rush to get out of the truck. She could have been thinking the same thing I was. At the same time, a voice in the back of my mind told me it wasn’t a good idea. For a lot of reasons.
If I had given in to my desire to kiss her, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself. It couldn’t have just been one kiss. I knew myself well enough to know that. I kept telling everybody what happened between us was in the past, but that wasn’t true. The fact that Ava and I hadn’t talked about our shared past wasn’t a sign that it was really all behind us. It just meant we really weren’t over the old shit.
That on its own made jumping past any conversation and right to kissing her a bad idea. Especially now that we were working together. It wasn’t just about me. The bar was critical to all my brothers and my parents. Since Ava came back to town, we were seeing better business and had a lot of optimism for the future. Chasing her away wouldn’t just screw things up for me. It would drag my whole family down.
The lingering desire for her was still there a couple days later when she showed up in the doorway to my office. She knocked on the wood and smiled at me.
“Hey. Do you have a minute?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said, spinning toward her in my chair. “What’s on your mind?”
Of all the things I had said since we took over The Hollow, that one made me feel the most like a manager. It was like a very special episode of a late-nineties sitcom. This would be the moment when my employee would pour her heart out to me and I would help her solve her life problems. Or it was the beginning of a letter to the Penthouse Forum.
“I just wanted to go over my idea for the next theme night,” she said. “I have some notes and pictures to show you if you have a second to go over it.”
“Sure.” I glanced around my small office. This would be very close quarters to be alone with Ava. If I was going to keep up my efforts to resist her, this wasn’t going to help. “Let’s go out and find a table.”
We went to the front of the bar and sat down. She spread her papers on the table and held a mock-up of a flyer out to me.
“It’s a country night. The last theme night was so edgy and alternative, I thought we could do something completely on the opposite end of the spectrum. It would be unexpected, appeal to a different demographic, but also show that we are versatile and welcoming to all kinds of clientele,” she said.
“That sounds like a great idea. And it goes along with the glass boot,” I said.
“If we can get it back from Matt,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t seen it since he first found it in the basement, and I have this vision that that he brought it home and wired it for a lamp.”
“I wouldn’t put that past him,” I said. We looked at each other for a few seconds, and the desire cranked up again. Turning my attention back to the papers, I cleared my throat. “So, what do you have in mind for the special menu items?”
“I wanted to give Jesse and Tyler a lot of space when it comes to that,” she said. “They both seem to be really dedicated to the kitchen and creating menus. They did an amazing job of finding the local desserts and coming up with the specials for the black-light theme night. I think it’s important that all of you get a chance to have input in these things. Successful businesses are cooperative, and if they feel like they have just as much at stake and investment as you do, they’ll push harder and perform even better.”
“Are you saying we don’t push hard enough?” Jesse asked with a teasing tone in his voice as he came out of the kitchen.
“Nope,” Ava said, not missing a beat.
Jesse laughed and came to sit with us, turning some of the pages toward himself so he could look at them. “This looks like a lot of fun. I can see some awesome barbecue and sides. Skillets of cornbread. I can talk to some of the people who did the desserts for the other event and see if they can come up with something. Maybe s’mores or a good fruit cobbler.”
“See?” Ava asked, looking at me with a triumphant, almost smug smile. “I told you he’d be able to come up with good things.”
I went to work getting the plans into place for the country-themed night. The flyer mock-up Ava made was really good, so I only needed to make a few minor changes before printing out copies to hand out that night. I also posted them on the new social media accounts she had been working on. We got a lot of enthusiasm from the customers who came in that night and heard a couple of dozen people already making plans to come back for the event.
It seemed every one of them lived up to their plans and brought along several others when the night finally came. Just like with the black-light night, Ava slipped into the bar with a surprised look on her face.
“How’s it look out there?” I asked.
“Insane,” she said. “Lined up down the sidewalk. It’s kind of amazing.”
I laughed and ducked into the kitchen to check in on the food. Just like last time, we decided to have premade plates of many of the specials so they would be easy to dole out.
An hour later, we were open, but there was still a line stretched far out the door. We were at capacity, completely full, but there were still people waiting outside to try to get in. Even with Matt standing outside as a de facto bouncer warning people showing up that the bar was full and we didn’t know if they would get in, they still joined the line.
It was incredible to see. And the whole time, there was Ava behind the bar, her hands flying as she made drinks and chatted it up with customers swarmed around her. They couldn’t get enough of her. I watched people stand there at the bar and order drink after drink, barely even sipping the ones she gave them, just because they wanted to keep talking with her.
There was truly something special about that girl. Not that I didn’t know that already.
My phone rang in my pocket as I was passing through the crowd. I couldn’t hear it above the volume of the classic country music and the loud patrons but having it on vibrate meant I could feel it buzzing against my skin. That was not a sensation I was particularly fond of, but it was a necessary evil in situations like this.
Ducking away into my office, I shut the door and pulled out my phone.
“Hey, Tom,” I said, surprised to hear from my oldest brother at this time of night. “How’s everything going?”
“I was calling you to ask the same question. I saw on your social media you have a theme night going on tonight.”
“I don’t know how she’s done it, but Ava has brought us more business then w
e’ve had since opening. She just throws together these events, but they have people filling the bar. You should see the line still waiting outside, just hoping they’re going to have a chance to come in.”
“That’s great, Tom said. “I’m really glad to hear everything’s going well. Just remember, keep it professional.”
It was almost like he had somehow heard my thoughts and made a special call just to scold me for them.
“I know,” I said. “Ava and I are coworkers. Just coworkers. I barely even notice she’s here most of the time.”
“Good to hear. Keep me updated. Say hi to everybody for me,” he said.
“I will.”
I got off the phone and headed back out into the bar. The rest of the night went exceptionally well. I was helping Matt wait on a large table when I glanced over at the bar and caught Ava’s eye. She smiled at me, and my heart gave a thud. To hell with Tom. She looked hot as hell in her cowboy boots and cutoff denim shorts. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
From behind her, a guy said something and held out several folded bills. She took them and tucked them into the pocket of her shorts. Another guy said something, and his friends beside him nudged him, laughing. It was the kind of reaction that came from heavy flirting. It didn’t look like Ava was flirting back, but I was still jealous.
I reminded myself I didn’t have the right to be jealous and banished myself to the office for the rest of the night. Whether it made sense of not, I couldn’t stomach watching her like that.
13
Ava
After the country theme night, all of us were exhausted, and the bar was depleted of most of its supplies. Both of those combined to convince Mason to give us an unheard-of night off in the middle of the week. I was sure there would be plenty of upset customers who wanted to come out, but I figured it could work in our favor if we handled it correctly. All it would take was a couple of strategically worded social media posts.
If there was one thing people liked more than getting what they wanted, it was getting what they wanted after being told they couldn’t have it. Taking a little bit of a break could have the effect of building up momentum even more. A bit of a buzz could stir up because of the bar going dark for a night, which would make people want to come even more when we opened again.
I was excited about the day off not just because I needed a break, but because I also got to go spend more time with my parents than I had recently. My mother looked in good spirits when I got there, and I noticed my father looked perkier and more responsive.
“You look like you’re feeling better,” I told him, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek.
“I’m definitely getting my energy back. Maybe things aren’t as serious as the doctors thought they were. Just watch. I’m going to be up and going in the next couple of weeks,” he said.
I looked over at my mother, who just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then I looked back at my father. “Don’t push it too hard. You don’t want to set yourself back.”
“But I’m feeling so much better,” he said. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
I gave him a disbelieving look. “Daddy.”
“Okay, maybe it hurts a little. But not nearly as much as it did.”
“That’s because they gave you good medicine. You need to rest and get yourself back to your best shape. That’s why I’m here. You just relax and get better. Now, I’m going to go into the kitchen with Mom and we’re going to make you something to eat.”
As soon as we were in the kitchen, Mom let out a sigh. “I think sitting in that bed all the time is driving him crazy. I try to move him around as much as I can—you know getting him into chairs or coming into the kitchen. But it doesn’t seem to help all that much. He’s just getting cabin fever. He wants to be up doing something useful. I think he’s embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?” I asked, going into the refrigerator to pull out some ingredients for the lemon pie I had planned.
“He’s so used to feeling like he’s taking care of everybody. It makes him feel like he’s not doing enough when he can’t get up and work, or at least help me around the house,” she said.
“Well, that’s silly. He can’t help that he fell and hurt himself. Besides, he’s done so much for the family my whole life. He needs to just let us take care of him for a little while.”
“I agree,” Mom said. “We just have to convince him. And I’m hoping that seeing some other people and having them not treat him any different is going to help a lot.”
She just slipped that smoothly into the conversation, which I knew meant she was trying to tell me something without telling me. I looked at her suspiciously.
“Did you have someone in mind for that particular mission?” I asked.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” she asked, which meant she didn’t tell me. “I ran into Susan at the deli.”
“Susan… Anderson?” I asked. “Mason’s mom?”
“Yes,” Mom said, pulling out a saucepan and putting it on the stove so we could start the lemon curd. “I invited her and Robert to come over for a barbecue this weekend. They’re going to bring the boys.”
She said that like they were hauling along their gaggle of toddlers, and not like they were bringing a group of grown men.
“You have fun with that,” I said. “Let me know how it goes.”
“What do you mean? You’ll be here, of course,” Mom said.
“No. No, I won’t. You can have that whole thing to yourself.”
“Oh, Ava. It will be fun. We’ve been friends for years. We have continued to get our hair done together twice a month even after the breakup. Not everything is about you, you know,” she said.
There she went with the Mom guilt. She was particularly good at it. Somehow it was even more effective now that I was home to help them out. It should have been the opposite. Since I was the one who uprooted my life and came back home to make things easier for them, they shouldn’t really be able to guilt me. Yet, she had the power.
“Fine. I’ll come. But only if I can bring Stephanie,” I said.
The bartering worked. Mom agreed to my terms under the condition that along with Stephanie, I brought a side dish. Everybody in town knew my mother made the best coleslaw and macaroni salad on the planet, so I had to think of something else.
After finishing up the pie, I helped Mom with some cleaning around the house, then spent a couple hours hanging out with my father. I headed out that afternoon with leftover pie and complaints to share with Stephanie.
When I got to her house, I noticed a man gripping a few articles of clothing as he snuck out of the side door and rushed toward the back of the house. He looked vaguely familiar from a distance, but I couldn’t really tell who it was. Stephanie answered the front door on the first knock, her hair a little wild and her expression saying she didn’t expect me.
“I have to make macaroni and cheese,” I said.
“What?” she asked.
“Mom says I have to bring a side dish, so I’m making macaroni and cheese,” I said, pushing past her into the house.
“Your mother is hosting nightly potlucks now?” She closed the door and followed me into the living room where I flopped onto the couch.
“No. I mean for the barbecue.” I lifted my head and looked at her. “Who was that guy sneaking out of your house?”
She looked around; her eyes wide with mock innocence. “What guy?”
“You know what guy. Who was he?” I asked.
She shook her head, waving her hand in front of her face to brush the question away. “Nobody. Don’t worry about it. Just a friend who stopped by.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. She wasn’t going to admit who it was. Which meant he was probably someone who shouldn’t be sneaking out of her house.
“What barbecue are you talking about?” she asked.
She curled up onto the overstuffed white chair at the corner of the couch and reached for a mug of coffee she already ha
d sitting on the table in front of her.
“Apparently, my mother invited the entire Anderson clan over to their house for a barbecue this weekend,” I said.
Stephanie’s eyes got wide. “All of them?”
“All of them. Mom thinks it sounds like so much fun. Just a fantastic get-together for all of us. So, I told her I wouldn’t go unless I could bring you,” I said.
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll go. Do I need to bring a side dish, too, or is your macaroni and cheese the ticket for both of us?”
“I’ll get clarification next time I talk to her.” I let out a sigh and pulled myself up to sitting. “Seriously, though. Can you believe she would do something like this to me?”
“What do you mean?” she asked. She looked down into her mug, then back at me. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Yeah, coffee would be good. What do you mean, what do I mean?”
She got up and went into the kitchen. “What do you mean can I believe they would do something like this to you?”
“She invited my ex, his brothers, and his parents over for a barbecue,” I said, emphasizing the words to help her understand the supreme awkwardness of the situation.
“Well,” she said, lifting her voice up louder so she could call to me from the kitchen, “technically she invited her friend and her friend’s family over for a barbecue.”
“Are you kidding me?”
She came into the room a few seconds later with a tray holding a pot of coffee, mugs, and a plate of cookies. “Why would I be kidding you? They really are all still friends. You can’t help that. It’s a small town, Ava. It’s bound to happen. You can’t expect them to just stop associating with people they have known since before you were born because you had a bad breakup years ago.”
Thoughts of the pain and sadness of those days rolled like a dark cloud over my mind. It was more than just a bad breakup, but I didn’t want to talk about it. In so many ways I felt like I had talked about it way too much. Just not to the right person.
Second Chance Baby Page 8