Whiskey & Honey

by Andrea Johnston

  “Piper,” he begins while stepping toward me. I put my hand up to stop him. “Fine, I’ll stand over here. Why do you put yourself down all the time? I can tell you one thing, Piper, I would never be bored with you.”

  I snort in disbelief.

  “Don’t.” The frustration is evident in a single word. “I wouldn’t. I’ve already told you how great I think you are. Shit, I’m putting myself out there, Piper. I’m telling you I want you. That I want to pursue this connection we have.”

  A stand-off of sorts happens. Seconds pass while we just stand there, staring at each other without speaking. There is no way to respond to him without making this situation worse. I should walk away and end this conversation. Just as the thought occurs to me Ben takes a small tentative step toward me and continues his frustrated speech.

  “Tell me why when you walk in a room, without me even seeing you, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Why is it that the minute you speak I lose all ability to think rationally? Your voice, Piper. God what your voice does to me. When you speak each syllable slips over me like the slowest pour of honey. I would listen to you read the phone book if you wanted.” My breath hitches as he takes another step. “Baby, I want to know why every single time I look in your eyes, so beautiful and kind, that I see so much more than I ever thought was possible.”

  A final step and he’s directly in front of me again. My defenses down with each word he speaks. Tears freely flowing as he places those damn hands on my face again. Sighing in resignation. Each movement is precise and cautious, leaving me more conflicted.

  The little angel on my shoulder is telling him not to kiss me while the little devil on my other shoulder is encouraging the opposite.

  “I’m not going to kiss you again, Piper. I’ve laid it all out on the line. I’ve told you how I feel. The next move is yours. No matter what you decide, I’ll still be your friend. I won’t like it but I’ll do it.”

  With that declaration he drops his hands and walks away from me.

  Left alone watching his back as he retreats to his tent, I am left with nothing but my thoughts and emotions. Regardless of how beautiful his words are or how he makes me feel, I’m not willing to take the risk of hurting Ashton nor our friendship.

  I begrudgingly return to the tent I share with my best friend. As I settle in to my sleeping bag, Ashton rolls over and smiles at me.

  “Did you get your alone time?” she asks me between yawns.

  “Yeah, I did. Go back to sleep, it’s late.”

  “K. Night, love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  And, that is why Bentley Sullivan and I will only ever be friends.

  The problem with heart-to-heart conversations under the moonlight is the morning after. Unlike romance movies or novels, I didn’t have some epiphany of how Ben and I could pursue our feelings and not hurt Ashton. Just the opposite, actually. I tossed and turned all night, and when I did manage a few minutes of sleep, my dreams were consumed by flashes of the moments we’ve had together. And that damn frog. I’m still not convinced it was just a frog.

  After finally emerging from our tent, I join the rest of the group for breakfast in the cabin. Grateful no life-changing decisions need to be made today, I savor my coffee. Only once I’ve made it halfway through my second cup do I notice that Ben isn’t at the table.

  Fine, I noticed when I sat down but it’s only just processing.

  “Where’s Ben?”

  “Nothwer ike,” Landon answers as eggs fall from his mouth. I raise an eyebrow at him and he swallows before offering me a smile. “Another hike, sorry.”

  I return his smile as I grab another piece of bacon.

  “Piper, are you going to be boring again? Do you plan on just sitting around drinking water and reading?” Ashton teases as she nudges my shoulder with her own.

  “Hush up. I had fun yesterday and had a few beers. I actually feel like today may be a perfect day for day drinking.”

  “Yes!” Ashton shouts as she offers me her hand for a high five, which I give her. “Tell me more about these day drinking plans? Are we starting with red beers after breakfast? Bloody Marys? Man-whore, do you have any champagne? Mimosas may be what the doctor ordered!”

  “Ashton,” I say with a warning in my voice.

  “What?” Ashton unconvincingly questions. I just shake my head and stand to put my cup in the sink.

  “I assume you are speaking to me?” Arms crossed as he leans back in his chair, Jameson acts as if Ashton calling him a man-whore, or any other name, doesn’t bother him, but his eyes tell a different story.

  “Obviously, I don’t see another man-whore around here.”

  With the exception of Jameson and Ashton, we all laugh as Owen and Landon start to argue that perhaps they, too, should be considered for the title. Seeing who will blink first, Jameson and Ashton stare at one another, brows raised and lips pursed. The tension is both ridiculous and unnecessary.

  “Good grief. Ash, please stop calling Jameson names. This is his place. And, J?” Jameson turns to look at me. “You blinked first, you lost. I’m going for a run, see you all in a bit.”

  Leaving the cabin, I can still hear Owen and Landon campaigning for the elusive title. Thank goodness for those two and their banter. If there is one thing their argument is sure to do, it’s to ease the tension between Ash and Jameson. Tension that is giving me a headache, and tension that is bound to implode when we all least expect it.

  After an internal battle over a run versus nap, the run wins out. There is no way Ashton will let me out of a day of drinking and shenanigans. I’m going to enjoy the day and my friends without letting last night’s conversation with Ben interfere with any of it.

  Four hours after the stare down in the kitchen, we are all enjoying the sun, water, and coolers full of drinks. The guys have tossed some food on the grill and left Ashton and me to our own devices for a while. It’s a much-needed moment of quiet.

  “Ash, can I ask you something?”

  Ashton raises her head from where she’s laying on her towel and looks at me over her sunglasses. “Obviously. What’s up? Don’t look so serious, you’ll kill the moment.”

  I laugh at her. “Sorry, it’s not serious. I don’t think so anyway. What’s your deal with Jameson? Did you guys hook up and you never told me?”

  Putting her sunglasses back in place, Ashton buries her head and mumbles a response I can’t quite make out. “Stop mumbling.”

  “Ugh,” she sighs as she sits up and looks at me. “Nothing ever happened. I just … I don’t know. He drives me nuts. He both infuriates and saddens me at the same time. He makes my insides flip. It reminds me of that time I bungee jumped. Then he’ll say something and I want to kick him in the nuts and never speak to him again.”

  Interesting.

  “Do you like him, Ash?”

  “That’s a dumb question, Piper. We’re friends. We’ve been friends most of our life; he is my brother’s best friend. Of course I like him. He’s just annoying and set on screwing every ho-bag in the county.” Ending her short monologue with a huff, she lays down again.

  “Would you ever date him?” I don’t know why I ask this, but I do, and part of me hopes she says yes.

  “Yeah, no. Jameson and I, well we aren’t like that. Plus, he’s Ben’s best friend. That’s a violation of some sibling best friend code or something. Besides, my brother would lose his shit if I went to him and said I wanted to ride Jameson’s pony.”

  I offer her a little laugh. “Pretty sure you should never refer to a man’s penis as a pony. Do you really think Ben would care?” He’d be a hypocrite if he did.

  Shrugging, she starts to settle back on her towel. “It doesn’t matter; I’d never do that. No good could come from hook-ups among friends. One breakup and the entire group would be chaos and I just think it would put my brother in an awkward position.”

  “I guess it could be weird.”

  “Weird? Piper, it would
be more than weird. I’m Ben’s sister. If something happened, and that’s a huge if by the way, and it ended not only would Ben have to choose sides but he’d probably always choose mine. He’d lose his best friend and that’s not worth a pony ride.”

  “Stop with the pony reference. I just think there’s a reason Jameson gets you in knots and maybe you should think about that.”

  No reply given says volumes. The guys return with food and another great day at the lake continues. No drama, no chaos, and no serious conversations with Ben or Ashton. Another game of chicken between the guys this time gives Ashton and me enough time for quick showers before dinner.

  Before I join the group at the bonfire, I excuse myself into the cabin for a few minutes to myself. I’m washing dishes when those little hairs on my neck raise. I don’t need him to speak to know Ben is behind me. He doesn’t touch me but I feel him as if his hands were on me.

  “You doing okay? You’re a little quiet tonight.”

  Rinsing the dish in my hand, I place it in the drainer before grabbing the next or offering him an answer. After what feels like minutes but is only seconds I resign myself to answer.

  “I’m great. It’s been a fun day. I am ready to get home though.”

  “Piper,” he says, but I don’t let him finish as I rinse and place one very clean plate to dry and grab a towel turning to him.

  “Ben, please don’t. I really had a good day and don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we please just be friends? We have less than a week before school starts. We’ll see each other every day and it’d be great if we were in a good place.”

  A small smile appears and he nods. “Okay. So, friend, can you please tell me why we start work on a Thursday? This really seems ass backwards.”

  I laugh and know then and there that everything will be okay.

  The first day of the school year finds me pulling on my oldest pair of cowboy boots. Tall, almost to my knee, they are bright and colorful with a floral design that the kids always love. One of my mentors from college told me that he discovered early on if he presented himself to the kids with something of interest they almost always eased into the new school year with less anxiety. Or, at the very least less tears at drop-off. I noticed then that he always wore a wild bow tie.

  On my first day of teaching, I didn’t wear the boots. It was the most chaotic day of my life. Nothing could have prepared me for the level of hysterics presented in the form of eighteen humans under four feet tall. The next day, I dug my boots out of the back of my closet and said a little prayer they worked. As the children filed in the classroom that day, full of trepidation, one little girl saw my boots. She pointed and whispered to her mom who looked at me and smiled. I approached the little girl and dropped so that I was eye level.

  “Simone, right?”

  Hiding behind her mother’s leg, she nodded.

  “I saw you looking at my boots, would you like to see them up close?” Another nod. With a nudge from her mom she approached me almost as if she wasn’t sure I was real. Mesmerized by the intricate design, she ran her tiny finger over the design. As she did, other children in the class noticed our interaction and joined. The day wasn’t perfect, but it was significantly better than the first day and only managed to get better as the week went on.

  I went home that night and sent an e-mail to my mentor and thanked him for the idea. He sent back an e-mail that told me the idea was less for the children and more for the teacher. Sometimes we, too, need a way to take the focus off of what is happening and on to something else. So very true.

  I arrive at the school about thirty minutes before the authorized drop-off time and spot Ben’s truck immediately. Contemplating parking near his truck, I instead choose a spot on the opposite side of the lot.

  Once I’ve made it to my classroom and checked the class fish tank, we can’t start off the first day of school with a fish funeral after all, I take a few deep breaths when there’s a knock at my door.

  “Miss Lawrence.”

  “Mr. Sullivan.”

  “You look pretty. I bet all of the boys in your class have a crush on you by the end of the day.”

  Laughing, I walk over to my desk and take a drink of my coffee.

  “What about you? The glasses are a nice touch, by the way. I’m sure not only will the second grade girls will have a crush on their new teacher, but the moms, too.”

  Before he can reply, voices in the hallway signal that the conversation is over and the new year is starting.

  “Well, I better get back to my class. Have a good first day, Piper.”

  “You, too.”

  Nodding and turning to walk out the door, I give myself just one second to check out the jeans Ben is wearing. That’s completely fine. We’re friends and even friends can appreciate what their friends are wearing.

  Before I can fully appreciate the view, Ben turns and winks at me before turning down the hall. Damnit. Busted again.

  As my new flock of students begins filtering in, I am greeted with familiarity by a few of the parents and even a few of the children who have siblings I’ve taught before. Then the sweetest little face catches my eye and my teacher heart swells. An adorable little boy tentatively walks in holding the hand of an older woman, grandmother perhaps. I watch as his big blue eyes dance around the room. His blond hair, refusing to be tamed, a little long in the front, gives him a bit of an Owen Wilson look. When I notice his eyes are lined red as if he’s been crying I decide to introduce myself before any sort of meltdown begins.

  I introduce myself to the woman who tells me her name is Mrs. Honeycutt. Not recognizing the name from my student list, I drop down to a squat so I’m level with the young man who appears to be on the verge of a new set of tears.

  “Hi there. What’s your name?”

  I hear a sniffle of a response, “Jacob.”

  Great, the kid who has my heart full of compassion and me wondering how long until I can have babies of my own is Jacob Thorne. Child of uber bitch, Felicity Remington hyphen Thorne.

  “Well, Jacob, I’m Miss Lawrence. It’s very nice to meet you,” I say, offering him my hand. He shyly shakes it and looks up at Mrs. Honeycutt for reassurance.

  “Jacob, it’s a pleasure to meet you. We’re going to have a wonderful time here in kindergarten. Would you like to come with me and find your seat? Your name is written on a tag so we’ll need to look at them all until we find yours. How about it?”

  Once again looking at Mrs. Honeycutt, who adoringly looks at this sweet boy, he turns to take my extended hand. We locate his seat, which is next to Patty Wilmington. Patty is an outgoing and talkative child who I’ve known since she was born and have no doubt will be a perfect seat mate for a shy little boy like Jacob. Leaving Jacob to be Patty’s sounding board, I return to Mrs. Honeycutt.

  “I think he’ll be just fine.”

  She looks at me and smiles. “Yes, I suppose he will. I think this is more difficult for me than it is for him. I suppose you see this reaction from parents all the time.”

  “I do, yes. But if you don’t mind me asking, what is your relationship to Jacob?”

  “Oh, I’m his nanny. I came to work for the Thornes shortly after Jacob was born. He was a colicky baby and with a toddler underfoot his mother needed help. He’s quite special to me and I’m a little heartbroken to see him growing up. Silly, I know.”

  “It’s not silly. He seems like a sweet boy. I promise to look after him. May I ask where his parents are?” Not that I really want to see his mother but I should at least ask.

  “His father is away on business. Mr. Thorne travels a lot for his company and is only home a few days a month. Mrs. Remington-Thorne is with Jacob’s sister, Clementine. She’s a second grader at this school.”

  That means Felicity is with Ben right now.

  “I see. I don’t recall having Clementine in my class before.”

  “No, Mrs. Remington-Thorne had her in a private school until this year. We have on
ly just moved to Lexington full time. Mrs. Remington-Thorne grew up here. Perhaps you know her.”

  Oh, I know her. “Oh, perhaps. I should get this day started. Again, Mrs. Honeycutt, I think Jacob will be just fine.”

  The morning has minimal tears from most of the class and only one meltdown. Of course the meltdown was of epic proportions and perhaps some bodily fluids were lost. Still, I made it through the day and, as expected, Jacob Thorne was fine and Mrs. Honeycutt was grateful. No Felicity sightings and for that I’m grateful.

  As I’m turning off the lights and heading down the hallway, Ben walks out of his class.

  “Miss Lawrence, how was the first day?”

  “Pretty good, yours?”

  “It was good. I have a great group of kids. Hey, guess whose daughter is in my class?”

  “Felicity Remington, yeah I heard.”

  “Hyphen Thorne. Don’t forget the hyphen,” he says, shaking his head and laughing.

  “Oh yes, we mustn’t. I have her son, Jacob, in my class. Adorable kid. Sweet as pie and kind-hearted. How’s the sister?”

  “Clementine? She’s her mother’s daughter. I had a few flashbacks to childhood with her today.”

  “I don’t envy you. I’m not looking forward to dealing with Felicity this year.”

  “She was a bit tough on you growing up, wasn’t she?”

  We stop at his truck at that question. “Tough? She made my life a living hell, Ben. We grew up during a time that girls like her were referred to as ‘Mean Girls.’ In reality she was just a bitch and found some sick satisfaction in making me miserable. I’d rather go the rest of my life without having to deal with her. I’m grateful the nanny seems to be the primary point of contact for little Jacob.”

  “Where’s your car?” he asks me, looking around. I point him toward the other end of the lot.

  “Were you running late this morning? That’s a crap parking spot.”

  I turn to start walking away. “Not late, just getting in a few extra steps. See ya later, Ben.”