Bourbon & Bonfires

Home > Contemporary > Bourbon & Bonfires > Page 2
Bourbon & Bonfires Page 2

by Andrea Johnston


  “It’s an Officer Melton? He said he tried calling your cell, but it went straight to voicemail.”

  I pull my phone from my pocket and sure enough, it’s powered off. I must not have turned it on this morning. Shit. Wait, did she say officer? “Did you say officer? As in police? Oh my God, is it Mason?” Without a second thought, I slam shut the supply door and rush to the nearest phone, glancing at Janet.

  “Line three,” Janet says before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Janet is very kind, and if she thought this was serious news, she wouldn’t leave me alone. Maybe someone broke into my house. Or hit my car in the parking lot. That makes sense.

  “Hello? This is Addison Sinclair.”

  “Mrs. Sinclair, this is Officer Melton. I have your son, Mason, here with me.”

  “Is he okay? Has he been injured? In some sort of accident?”

  “No, ma’am. We’re going to need you to come down to the station and complete some paperwork. The store has agreed not to press charges, but we’ll still need you to take possession of the minor.”

  Charges? Store? Dear Lord, what has he done?

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you.”

  Sliding down the wall, I sit on the floor of the supply room and cry. I give up. I can’t do this alone anymore, and clearly, I can’t depend on Dan. I will not let my son ruin his future with the ongoing poor life choices he’s making. I know in my heart Mason is a good boy and will make a wonderful man. I just no longer know how to make that happen on my own. I never give up, and I won’t start now, but it’s obvious we need a change.

  I take my cell phone from my pocket and while it powers on, I wipe my fallen tears with a tissue. Glancing at the calendar hanging on the wall I count nine days until winter break. That’s plenty of time to put this plan into motion. If I know my brother, he’ll be here by the weekend with a moving truck ready to help. And this time I won’t say no.

  Me: Hey baby brother. That doctor still need a nurse?

  Taylor: Last I heard.

  Me: Text me the information and while you’re at it, find me a house. Looks like we’re moving to Lexington.

  Taylor: Already done. I had a feeling. Call me tonight, I can’t wait to hear what Mason has done now.

  Of course he’s already found us a house. Taylor Cain is a doer, and when he sets his mind to something there’s no stopping him. Before leaving for the police station, I stop in my office manager’s office to tender my resignation. If I don’t do it now, I may lose my nerve, and I know this move is something I need to do, or the next time it won’t be a sympathetic store owner willing to let things go.

  Parking in front of the police station is a surreal moment. It almost doesn’t feel real, yet I know it is. I know the brick building houses my son, my baby boy, and my only hope is this day has scared him straight. Maybe I should have made him watch that television show by a similar name. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, even when you’re raising kids.

  I pull down the sun visor and take in my appearance. Fifteen years ago, I was bright-eyed and full of hope. I believed in the love Dan and I had. I envisioned our future, believed it would all come true. And, for a while it did. We were happy and in love. We built a life together, and while not every day was perfect, I believed we were happy. Until we weren’t. Now, the woman looking back at me looks tired and sad. The bags under my eyes reflect the minimal sleep I get every night, worrying about Mason, worrying whether his behavior lately is a phase or if it’s a new personality he’s taken on. I worry about my brother and his life in Lexington. I’ve cried many tears wondering if this is it, if I’m destined to be a single mom for the rest of my life.

  I’m tired. That’s why this move is necessary. Taylor will help me, he may scare the shit out of Mason doing it, but I don’t care. It needs to be done, and hell, I need to live life a little. I pull my compact from my purse and apply a little power before swiping on some gloss. This is as good as it’s going to get this afternoon.

  I step out of my small SUV and smile politely to the officers passing me as I approach the front door of the building. What must they be thinking? Do they think I’m here to bail someone out? I guess I sort of am. Wow, this is most definitely not how I saw this day playing out.

  “May I help you?”

  “Hi, I’m Addison Sinclair, here to see Officer Melton about my son.”

  The woman at the desk smiles and taps on the keys of her computer before picking up her phone. While I wait I look around at the flyers tacked to the bulletin board covering the wall. I wonder for a brief moment, how many parents stand in this spot everyday to see their children. It’s a humbling and sad moment.

  “Mrs. Sinclair?” I hear the woman behind the, what I assume is, bulletproof glass ask. “Officer Melton asked me to show you to his desk. I’ll buzz you in and walk you back.”

  I nod in response, and when the buzzer signals, a loud click of the door unlocking signals my ability to enter the main part of the building. My stomach drops. I don’t like this feeling at all.

  “This is bullshit.”

  “Mason Taylor Sinclair! Watch your goddamn mouth!” Okay, so I’m not winning any parenting points with the cussing retort but dammit if this kid is not grinding on my last nerve.

  “Nice, Mother.”

  “Look. I don’t care how pissed off you are. You are not old enough to swear, and you’ll never be old enough to swear at me. Please take this box to the moving truck. And know this, your uncle will be here in the next thirty minutes or so. That’s your only warning.”

  I watch as Mason grumbles and stomps down the hall with a box in his hands. The last few days have been a whirlwind of packing and securing the moving truck. As I expected, Taylor had a plane ticket purchased the day I called him from the police station and is flying in today so we can drive back to Lexington together. Mason has hardly spoken to me since we left the police station, and I took him directly to the bank to pull three hundred dollars from his savings.

  Although the store he attempted to shoplift offered not to press charges, I felt it necessary Mason do something in the form of retribution. So, he made a donation to the local Boys and Girls Club, and I told him when we’re settled in Lexington he needs to find something to do with his spare time: a school club, a sport, a job, or volunteer. Regardless of his choice, he will fill his time being productive and not hanging out with less than desirable kids who encourage him to skip school and steal.

  “Uncle Tay is here. Can I please go over to Jimmy’s before we leave?”

  “Twenty minutes. I want you back here to do one final walk-through of the house.”

  “Fine,” Mason scoffs, attitude rolling off him.

  “What did I tell you about speaking to your mother in that tone, Mason?” Taylor barks, startling me.

  “Sorry,” Mason mumbles while walking away.

  “Hey,” I greet my brother.

  “Hey yourself. Damn, you guys have been busy. Come here and hug me before we do any more.”

  Without question, I walk into my brother’s embrace and cry. He comforts me and lets me cry enough tears to fill a bucket. Once I’ve sufficiently drained my tear ducts, I pull back and squint my face at the wet spot I’ve left on his shirt.

  “Sorry.”

  “Eh, no biggie. Feel better?”

  “Yes. Thanks for coming even though you didn’t have to.”

  “We’re family, Addy. It isn’t about have tos. I’m glad I’m here to help. Now, let’s get your truck packed so we can get on the road. If we start moving soon, we can get to my place at a decent hour.”

  “You’re so structured. Is this what military life did? Made you organized and on a schedule?” I tease.

  “Yes, ma’am. Don’t make that face, it’s a sign of respect not age. But you are pushing forty, sis.”

  “Whatever. Let’s do this. We’ll have to feed my demon child before we get on the road. Are you sure about the two of you driving the big tru
ck?”

  “I told you, I want a little one-on-one with Mason. Plus, it’ll be nice for you to have a little quiet time. I’m sure there’s some awful music you need to listen to.”

  “Hey! My music isn’t awful; it’s country. But no, I’m going to indulge in an audiobook. If Mason isn’t in the car, I can listen to a steamier one.”

  “I’d rather not know about my sister’s steamier anything. But, if you like books I have a few friends to introduce you to when you get settled. They’re cool chicks and all about books and book boyfriends, whatever those are.”

  “Uh, they are everything. I look forward to meeting them.”

  Taylor and I each pick up a box and begin moving everything to the truck. When Mason returns, we do a quick walk-through of the house and garage before closing the moving truck and heading out on the road. I’m a little nervous about the move, but in the end, this is what I need to do for Mason. For our family.

  Two months ago I decided I’d start putting a little more effort into my dating life. Or lack thereof. My mom has been trying to fix me up for years, and until I turned thirty, I managed to dodge most of her efforts. Then something started happening around me. Not only were my brother and sister in committed relationships or married, but my friends were too.

  For years, two of my three best friends and I were single and lived life to the fullest. None of us settled down, except our buddy Ben. Then about a year ago, something changed, and now I’m the lone single guy in our group. When I was at Ben and Piper’s wedding a few months ago, I realized maybe being in a relationship wasn’t such a bad thing. My friends were happy. They were moving forward with their lives, creating families like I grew up in.

  The problem is, I’ve never found anyone to keep my attention for long. I’m not a player by any means, but I also don’t do relationships. I’m not opposed to a relationship, it’s just not something I’ve ever really given much thought to.

  Regardless, I’m on date three of the month, courtesy of my mother. The level of pathetic I’ve fallen to is not lost on me. I see it staring me in the face. Not the girl; she’s pretty cool. Lucy has been one of the better fix-ups. But, regardless, there isn’t a spark. Truth be told, I haven’t felt any sort of spark with a woman in years. Well, except at Ben and Piper’s wedding when I met my buddy Taylor’s sister. The sparks I felt that night gave the Fourth of July a run for its money.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts when Lucy speaks. “Did you want to share a dessert?”

  “What? Sorry, my mind drifted.”

  “It’s okay. I know this isn’t a love connection. I asked if you wanted to share a dessert. I really want some of that chocolate cake, but unless I want to spend the next week in the gym, I can’t eat it myself. Share?”

  “Sure. Sorry I’m not much company.” I wave down the waiter and ask for two coffees and slice of chocolate cake.

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the idea of being fixed up by our moms. But, if I don’t take at least one of these fix-ups every few weeks, my mom gets more difficult.”

  I laugh with her because I know exactly what she’s saying. It’s a little comforting to know there is someone else out there being pushed into dates like me. I smile at Lucy, and it’s a shame there’s no spark. She’s kind, and we’ve had no problem with conversation all night.

  “Your mom’s fixing you up a lot too? I thought I was the only one dealing with that,” I say, taking a drink of the recently poured coffee.

  “You should be so lucky. I think there are enough of us in this county, we could start a support group. Maybe that’s what we should do: Poor Saps Whose Parents Keep Fixing Them up Anonymous. I suppose,” she says scrunching her nose, “it wouldn’t be anonymous. Well, whichever. We could get a group together and pretend to be dating so our moms would leave us alone.”

  “Ah, that’s an excellent plan. But, my mom would demand to meet the girl I’m seeing, and that’s a whole different can of worms. I think I’ll keep avoiding and hope she gets tired of the fix-ups.”

  Lucy and I are quiet for a few minutes as we dig into our cake. Damn this is some good shit. When we finish the cake, the waiter delivers the check, and I slide my credit card into the holder for him to take.

  “We should at least split it. Unless . . . does your mom give you money for these dates?”

  “No, but maybe if I ask her to start footing the bill, she’ll stop.” Lucy laughs, and I sign the slip. “I’m a little old-fashioned I suppose, but I think the man should pay. I know it’s not very modern of me, but it’s something my dad taught my brother and me. Along with holding doors and always saying please and thank you,” I tell her as we stand from our table and walk to where our coats are hanging.

  I help Lucy into her coat; winter is short in Lexington, but it’s still chilly at night. With a hand on her lower back, I guide her to the front door. The windows of the restaurant are decorated in holiday lights since Christmas is a week away. Lucy and I make small talk about the holidays and our families as we walk toward her car. With a quick hug, she gets in her car. When the engine comes to life, I step back. Instead of pulling away, Lucy rolls down her window.

  “Thanks again for a great night, Landon. If you ever need to get out of a setup by your mom, give me a call.”

  “Will do. Drive safely,” I say, smiling as she rolls up the window and drives away.

  Looking at my watch, I realize it’s still early, and I’m not ready to go home to an empty house. Instead, I get in my truck and head to one of my favorite places in town—Country Road.

  Since it’s Saturday night, the parking lot is packed. I pull up along the side of the building and kill the engine to my truck. Sure, it’s not a regular parking space, but knowing the owner has its perks. Plus, one of my good friends is a bartender here, so it’s like family. Speaking of, I decide to see what my buddies are up to, even though I already know they’ll be hanging out at home with their ladies, so I pull up our group text. Owen hates the group text which is why we keep it.

 

  Me: I just pulled into Country Road if you guys want to meet up for a beer.

  Ben’s first to respond, which isn’t unlike him.

  Ben: I’m out. Piper and I just put a movie in and I have a bunch of shit to do tomorrow.

  Owen: Let me see when Minnie is going to get home. She’s at her sisters. I’ll get back to you.

  Jameson: I’m fucking sicker than shit. Keep an eye on my lady while you’re there.

  Me: Keep your germs at home.

  Jameson: DO NOT tell Ash I said to watch her.

  Me: Whoa. Quit yelling man.

  Owen: I’m telling her. She’ll rip you a new asshole.

  Jameson: Fuck you guys. I’m going to go lie down and cough up a lung now. Have a great fucking time.

  Owen: Be there in twenty.

  I climb out of my truck and realize that, at thirty years old, we’ve turned into chicks. We just had a group text about movies and being sick. I need to take some shots and flirt with girls to balance this out.

  I open the door to Country Road and the bass of the music beats in my chest when I enter the building. The DJ is playing a mix-up of country and rock, and the crowd seems to love it; the dance floor is packed. I make my way through the crowd toward the bar where I see Ashton with a shaker in her hand.

  Ashton Sullivan and I grew up together. Not only is she Ben’s sister, she’s engaged to Jameson and expecting their first child. Seeing her behind the bar with her little baby bump, shaking the shaker over her shoulder, is a little comical. The minute she spots me, her smiles grows, and she nods her head toward the end of the bar. I follow her direction and wait for her to finish pouring the drinks she made.

  “Did my overprotective baby daddy send you here? I swear, Landon, if you are here to babysit, I’m going to beat both of your asses.”

  Laughing, I hold my hands up in surrender. “Girl, I’m here for a beer or three and maybe a shot. I just received written
confirmation your baby daddy is in fact on his death bed with a cold.”

  “Okay, sorry. I stopped working weekend nights once this happened,” she says motioning to her mid-section. “But, Lexie has the same cold, and Taylor called in a favor. It’s not a big deal, but J acts like I’m going off to war or something.”

  “He just worries is all, Ash. You’re feeling okay, though?” I ask.

  “Yeah, it’s the adrenaline, ya know? I worked this shift for years, and now that I’m not, it’s fun to be back. Let me grab you a beer and a shot. Jager?”

  “You know me well. Yeah, I’ll go down to that empty seat at the bar,” I tell her, gesturing toward the middle of the bar. Nodding in agreement, Ashton quickly returns to her post behind the bar before pouring me a beer and shot.

  She beats me to the seat and slides both drinks my way before returning to her post. Tossing back the shot, I shake my head a little as the thick liquid burns my throat. I look around the bar and see a few ladies smiling my way, and I return the gesture and hope it’s enough to show I’m not blowing them off but not enough to invite them over. Even though that was my intention when I came here, now that I’m here I realize I’m not that guy.

  “You keep looking like that and all the women around here are going to avoid you like the plague.” I turn my attention to the voice and laugh.

  “Taylor,” I say while extending my hand in greeting.

  “What’s up? You look more pissed than usual.”

  “I don’t look pissed. I just got here, man. Give me a few minutes to get my bearings.”

  “I’m giving ya a hard time, relax. It’s a pretty decent crowd, lots of new faces. Pretty faces I might add. You coming to the New Year’s party?”

  “Where the fuck else would we go?”

  I turn toward the voice and greet my best friend with a fist bump. Owen Butler has been my best friend since we were kids and, until a few months ago, was my roommate. Once he met his girlfriend, Minnie, he was a goner, and it’s been a long time since we’ve hung out, only the two of us.

 

‹ Prev