Love on Tap

by Karis Walsh

  Tace spotted Allie across the bar. She took a sip of her beer as she walked over to the table, letting the subtle notes of nutmeg and pear wash over her tongue. Spicy warmth and a hint of sunshine from the fruit. Not the typical winter seasonal she had seen from other breweries—especially since she’d used her hefeweizen as the base—but she wouldn’t change a thing about it. It was ideal on a cold January day.

  Allie got up and gave her a hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages,” she said. “I was going to complain about how busy you are these days, but then I got a taste of your IPA. So, keep up the hard work.”

  Tace grinned and sat down across from her. “Thank you. It’s still our biggest seller. People around here love their hops. How has your work been? I miss trying your new recipes.”

  “I have a freezer full of casseroles for you,” Allie said. “I’ll bring them by this week. We’ve been experimenting with some Moroccan dishes, trying to adjust the recipes to make them easier to make quickly and in bulk.”

  Tace half participated in the conversation about tagines and Moroccan spices. The rest of her mind was coming up with ideas for the upcoming bike race. The brewery should be one of the sponsors—she made a mental note to contact the organizers of the event. Maybe she could have a booth there, with flyers from the different restaurants and pubs that served her beer. There’d be plenty of people coming from out of town to ride in the race, and she wanted them to drink her beer while they were here. Was it too late to have some T-shirts or baseball caps printed with the logo?

  “I got an offer on the brewery,” she said abruptly. She’d wanted both to keep the information to herself until she figured out whether to accept it or not and to have a chance to talk it out. Rather, she had wanted to talk to Berit about it, but she was floating around Florida and the East Coast during Whitman’s month-long winter break. Tace had known Allie for years and trusted her opinion, but Berit was tied to the brewery in Tace’s mind. She’d been part of the journey to develop the first seasonal ale, and Tace didn’t think she’d have broken through her self-imposed barriers to marketing her product without Berit’s input. Her advice had helped Tace secure a place for her beers at Margaret’s winery, and now Chetham Hill offered the two ales and the rotating seasonal. They’d been a big hit, and Tace had been working on a plan to get more wineries to carry them as well when Joan had called with the name of an interested buyer.

  “It’s not a fortune, but I think it’s a generous offer since the business isn’t exactly solvent yet. It’d cover my second mortgage and most of what I’ve invested.”

  Allie raised her glass. “Congratulations! I know how hard you’ve been working at two jobs. What a relief to get your money out of the place. You’ll have more time off and you can stop taking in boarders.”

  “Exactly,” Tace said. She lifted her glass in answer to Allie’s toast, but didn’t take a drink. “A relief.”

  Why didn’t it feel like one? She’d been busting her ass ever since she made a deal with Margaret and with two restaurants in quick succession last October. Joseph needed an assistant to help with the extra workload, and Tace had taken the job instead of hiring someone else. She told herself she only wanted to save money, but she knew the reasons were more complicated and scary than that. After her weekend with Berit in the wheat fields and at the balloon festival, she’d felt herself falling out of control. She was falling for Berit—especially after the kiss they’d shared. But being with Berit required Tace to make a choice about her future. She’d never had the luxury of making more than sketchy plans. Money, family, obligations—those had kept her grounded in the present. Occasional lovers had come and gone, but she’d been sort of passive about letting them in and out of her life. They happened to her. If Tace listened to her libido and pursued Berit, she’d be making the choice to either be in a relationship that was doomed to end with Berit’s expiration date on her time in Walla Walla, or she’d be making the decision to follow Berit wherever she went next.

  The latter was too frightening to contemplate. She’d taken on more responsibility at the brewery partly to avoid spending too much time with Berit until she figured out what she wanted. And Tace wasn’t accustomed to running her life according to what she wanted.

  “What do you do there, anyway?” Allie asked. “Just taste beer every day?”

  Tace laughed. “Actually, we do sample the worts quite often, to make sure the finished product will be consistent and to see if we need to make changes to the formula based on the specific batch of hops or grain we’ve used. Quality control, just like you do with the food you serve.”

  “But with alcohol. I’m jealous.”

  “Tasting the same beers day after day gets old after a while.”

  “After how long?”

  Tace shrugged. “I’ll have to let you know. Sometime over ten years apparently, since Joseph hasn’t reached that point yet. But I’m sure it’s bound to happen to us.”

  Tace couldn’t hide her grin. She looked forward to every backbreaking sack of malted barley she’d carried and every sip of ale or stout she’d tasted. Not because she was playing around and drinking beer on the job, but because she was increasingly proud of what they were creating. The beers were getting better and better, and the good ones were getting more and more consistent across batches. Tace had never felt such a tangible form of accomplishment. Besides needing a little space from Berit, she’d taken on the role of Joseph’s assistant because she was getting more wrapped up in the beer-brewing process, wanting to learn every aspect from the ground up.

  She was falling for the brewery, too.

  “Well, once it’s sold, you’ll still be able to drink it whenever you want, but without the added trouble of doing the gardening and paying the bills. A simple bar tab will seem like nothing to you after this.”

  Tace laughed along with Allie, but she felt a frown tugging on the corners of her mouth as she did. She forced a lighthearted smile on her face and an easy tone in her voice for the next hour, and then she set her empty glass on the table.

  “I should go,” she said. “I have to be at the brewery early tomorrow and then I’m closing at Drake’s.”

  Allie stood when she did and gave her another hug. “Soon we’ll be back to normal. You’ll just have the store, a job you leave at the end of your shift and don’t need to worry about after-hours. We’ll be able to spend more time together, at least until you pick up the prettiest woman at the bar, like you used to do.”

  Tace shook her head. “Seems like a lifetime ago,” she said. “See you soon, Allie. You’ll have to come see the brewery sometime. You can taste test with us.”

  Tace walked out of the bar expecting a cold winter wind. When she’d gone inside, the temperature had been in the twenties, and she’d had snow up to her ankles, but now the breeze was at least thirty degrees warmer. A chinook wind. Tace wasn’t sure what caused the phenomenon, but chinooks had been part of her life forever. Sometimes they only lasted minutes, other times they blew for hours, melting snow and ice. She’d always woken Chris and Kyle for them if they happened during the night, and she’d take them to Pioneer Park to play with the other kids who magically appeared along with the wind.

  Tace closed her eyes and let the warmth muffle her from the rest of the world. She’d always loved these times because they seemed magical in a life filled with mostly unmagical moments. Out of time, out of place. She felt as if she was in a snow globe, but instead of flakes, heat was swirling around her. She opened her eyes again. She wished Berit were here. Tace could picture her beautiful face as she experienced the shift in temperature and feel of the air. Her eyes would have been bright and fascinated, her lips slightly opened as she threw her head back and let the wind buffet her.

  Tace started walking toward home. She pulled off her heavy jacket and wool sweater until she was down to the tank top she wore underneath. She contemplated throwing herself into the closest snow drift. She needed to cool off somehow. Her thoughts of Berit
were increasingly arousing—she’d considered Berit sexy from the start, but her desire for Berit had grown exponentially as Tace learned more about her. Talking to her, sharing life with her, reading her books…Physical was always resistible, if necessary, but Tace was attracted to Berit in ways that went far beyond her body, ways not so easy to resist.

  Tace veered off her usual path and cut across Whitman’s campus. She sat on a bench on the edge of the quad and watched an impromptu nighttime game of football on the snowy field. Tace figured most of the students must be out here, wearing shorts and T-shirts after weeks bundled in winter gear. They were walking or sitting or having snowball fights in the temporary heat wave, while their laughter carried on the breeze.

  She’d always avoided Whitman whenever possible, and would never have considered using the campus as a shortcut to her house. Lately, though, since Berit had been gone, Tace had taken to coming here now and then. She’d found stone benches where she could watch mallards swim lazily on a hot-spring fed pond, and boulders to sit on while she read under the bare branches of oaks and horse chestnuts. She didn’t have much free time between the store and the brewery, but most of what she did have was spent on the campus. She felt silly using this as a way to feel closer to Berit, but she’d discovered some peaceful oases on the campus. She couldn’t get away for days at a time to hike like she used to, and this small touch of nature helped her unwind when she needed a break.

  She’d even become a regular in the bookstore. She had felt self-conscious and conspicuous when she first went in there to get Berit’s texts, but no one had seemed to pay much attention to her—except, of course, as someone who knew Berit. Now, she was recognized by most of the staff, and she didn’t care about being noticed anymore. She shook her head, surprised at the changes she’d experienced since last summer. The other day, one of the clerks had greeted her when she walked into the store and told her he had put aside a new geology book he thought she’d like. If someone had told her six months ago that she’d have college students recommending books for her…

  But everything had shifted since Berit. Tace seemed to accept any excuse to walk by Olin Hall these days—never going in, of course, but remembering the day she’d helped Berit move some of her mementos there. She’d accused Berit of caring more than she wanted to admit about teaching, and she smiled to think how she’d been proven right. After that day, Berit had seemed to plunge deeper into her job. She’d devoted more time to her students, even becoming an advisor for an extracurricular club in the Classics department. Even if Tace hadn’t been very busy herself, she’d rarely have seen Berit. She sometimes wondered if Berit was avoiding her, like she was Berit. They’d managed, between their two packed schedules, to dodge any opportunity to be alone and close like they’d been in the wheat fields. Tace didn’t have any doubt that Berit had felt their connection as strongly as she had when they’d kissed. But Berit had plans beyond this town and anyone in it. And Tace didn’t want to be left behind when Berit followed her dreams.

  Tace shifted her feet in the slushy snow. It was beginning to melt in the unseasonable warmth, and the layer of slush would most likely turn to ice overnight as the temperature returned to normal. Driving would be hazardous on the slick roads, but Tace wouldn’t stay home. She’d slip and slide her way into her brewery’s valley. She might not make it back up the hill in time to get to Drake’s, but she didn’t care so much about that. She had her priorities.

  Allie was right. Tace needed to sell the brewery and go back to only having one job. Allie had probably noticed the same gaunt and worn look Tace saw every time she looked in a mirror. Yes, she was right. Tace’s retail job was easy to leave at the end of the day, while the brewery was constantly on Tace’s mind. She’d never expected to be one of those people so consumed by their work that they joked they were married to it. Berit was one of them—she lived for her career, and felt lessened when she wasn’t on a dig somewhere exotic. She didn’t work regular hours and walk away from the office at the end of the day. Archaeology lived in her heart and mind all the time. The brewery was consuming Tace in the same way.

  Tace scraped some snow off the arm of the bench and formed a snowball. She packed it tight and tossed it from hand to hand. She was about to throw it at a nearby bike rack when she stopped suddenly, captured by the way she’d compared herself to Berit.

  Was this why she’d wanted to talk to Berit about the offer on the brewery? She’d even considered calling her and sharing the news over the phone. Tace could picture Berit’s reaction to the chance to sell. She’d encouraged Tace to be more confident when approaching potential customers. To be proud of what she was crafting and not to hide her belief in the quality of her beers. Tace had taken her words to heart over the past few months, but she’d only thought of her actions in terms of selling more beer, promoting her brewery, making the business marketable. Not in terms of following a budding and unexpected dream of her very own.

  Berit would encourage her to wait. To give the brewery and herself an opportunity to grow. Not to give up on something Berit knew Tace enjoyed. She’d have said the words Tace wanted to hear but hadn’t dared whisper even in her mind.

  Cut back on your hours at Drake’s. Devote even more time to the brewery. Give it a chance to become your career because you love it, and not to be a sideline occupation just so you can sell it.

  Passion. Tace had lived without passion for anything other than her family since the day her mother walked out. Suddenly, she was consumed by it. For Berit and for her business.

  Tace got up and threw the snowball as hard as she could toward the top of an evergreen sequoia. She hit the tree about three-quarters of the way up and knocked snow off a large branch. Maybe she’d follow imaginary Berit’s advice and take a chance on herself for once. Her efforts had already made the brewery more appealing to buyers. Maybe someday she could make it profitable. Or at least self-sustaining.

  And her other passion? Her growing attraction to Berit? Conversely, the more she cared for Berit and the more she appreciated the way Berit supported her and helped her grow, the more she wanted to run away from her feelings. Because she was going to hurt like hell when Berit ran away from her and back to her nomadic life.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Berit rapped on the door with her ornate new cane and didn’t stop until Tace flung it open with a peeved expression on her face. When she saw Berit on her porch—three days earlier than Berit had told her she’d be arriving—a smile slowly spread across Tace’s face and directly into Berit’s heart. She’d wanted to surprise Tace, to get an unrehearsed response from her, to find out if Tace had missed her as much as she’d been missed. Berit got the answer she’d been both hoping for and afraid of.

  “You weren’t supposed to be here until Thursday,” Tace said. “I couldn’t figure out why someone would be banging on my door so obnoxiously.”

  They stood on opposite sides of the doorway for few seconds, as if neither was sure whether to greet with a handshake or a hug. Berit made the choice for them and stepped across the threshold and grabbed Tace in a quick, but tight hug.

  “I wanted to show you my new cane,” Berit said. She held the smooth oak cane with an intricate brass collar out for Tace to inspect.

  “Fancy,” Tace said, fingering the delicate Greek key pattern on the collar. “Congratulations. You must be healing well.”

  “My doctors were impressed by how thoroughly I followed their instructions.” Berit released her hold on her duffel bag when Tace tugged on it. She followed Tace into the house and sat on the faded floral sofa. “To be honest, so was I.”

  Tace sat across from Berit on a green recliner with the bag at her feet. “You had a lot of incentive to get healthy again. You’ll be ready to get back to your real work once school’s out, I suppose?”

  “Yes,” Berit said, without elaborating. She’d spent some of her break in Florida going through testing and starting her physical therapy. The rest of the time, she’d been i
n DC with an old university friend, researching digs and sifting through options for summer. She’d had Tace in mind the whole time. She’d missed her company, but she’d also allowed an occasional dream of a future where the two of them were connected. She wasn’t ready to talk about her thoughts yet, and she doubted Tace was ready to hear them. She’d wait until the time was right. “I guess we can take out the ramp now, and I can let you have your rooms again.”

  “Why don’t you stay downstairs for now, but at the price we originally set for rent. The climb to the attic is steep, and we’re both settled in place.” Tace paused for a moment. “I sort of like being upstairs. It’s cozy, and I feel like a kid again sometimes. I guess I’m not quite ready to return to the grown-up bedroom.”

  Berit joined in Tace’s laughter. She was relieved, since she’d been worried about going up and down the stairs every day. Her bravado and elegant cane masked a still-healing and often sore body. “Thank you,” she said. “I get tired easily, and I have a feeling my muscles will be protesting once I get working with a physical therapist here. I’m nowhere near one hundred percent. Maybe thirty, on a good day.”

  “I’m sure you’ll improve fast now that you’re able to walk and move more freely. I’ll have the contractor out to take down the ramp. Maybe I can donate it to someone in the area and have it installed for them.”

  Berit felt the warmth of attraction for Tace. Of course she would think of donating the ramp. She wasn’t ostentatious with her kindness, or trying to seek approval. She helped in a quiet, matter-of-fact way when she saw a need, like she had with Berit all last semester.

  “You still travel light,” Tace said, standing and putting the bag’s strap over her shoulder. “I thought you might have brought more books or relics back with you.”

  She carried the duffel into the bedroom and Berit followed. “I did buy some reference books for this coming semester and I got some prints framed for my office walls. You’ll be relieved to hear I’m having them shipped directly to the campus instead of making you tote them around.”