by Karis Walsh
“What brings you to town, Kyle?” Berit asked. “I heard the last time you were here you dumped the brewery on Tace. What did you bring her this time?”
“Dumped it on her? I left her in charge of the family business while I took care of some personal matters,” Kyle said. “We’ve just been making plans to sell it, and she can buy whatever she wants with the profit.”
Berit turned to her with her mouth slightly open and her eyebrows raised in obvious surprise. “You’re selling the brewery? After all the work you’ve put into it?”
“Kyle’s just talking,” Tace hastened to assure her, although she was still confused by the day’s events. She’d been offered an out, a way to move out of Walla Walla for once in her life. She’d made the choice to keep the brewery despite the offers. Working there and making her beer with Joseph gave her a sense of fulfillment she’d never had before. But Berit had offered her something even more profound, and Tace got sadder as she simultaneously was getting closer to Berit and getting closer to her departure date. “We haven’t decided anything.”
Berit looked from one to the other with an unreadable expression. “I’m going to shower and change. Can we talk after?”
“I’ll be right in,” Tace said. She pushed past Kyle and went into the kitchen for plates.
“You’re sleeping with your boarder?” Kyle asked with a laugh. “Priceless. You really should hit her up for more money if—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Tace said, pointing a fork at Kyle. “Eat your sandwich and then go upstairs to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up. Right after I say one more thing. Have you thought about using the money from the sale to get some sort of degree? If you’re going to be dating a professor, you should at least have gone to college.”
Tace ignored him and gathered up the plates and food. She went into the bedroom and precisely arranged everything on the end table. Kyle’s parting words had cut somewhere deep inside her—the tenuous dream of a future she could be proud of had been slowly putting down roots and unfurling leaves and buds, but Kyle’s parting words severed it and left her to bleed. He’d always treated college like a joke, and she’d never confided in him about her own insecurities, so he hadn’t meant anything more than a weak attempt at humor with his comment. He’d managed to strike at her most vulnerable part, though, and the thought of having money for an education left her stunned by its potency.
She sat on the bed and listened to the sound of Berit splashing in the shower beyond the open bathroom door. For the first time since they’d begun sleeping together, Tace wasn’t tempted to go in and join her. She had too much on her mind. Too many decisions to make after a lifetime of having them made for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Berit let herself in the house the next afternoon and found Kyle lying on the couch watching television. He muted the sound and stood up when she entered. She’d had her hackles raised since she first met him because she wanted to protect Tace and her newfound dream. Tace didn’t need her brother dropping another unwanted business or scheme on her doorstep. Berit shouldn’t interfere in Tace’s family matters—she had no right to do so—but she couldn’t stop herself from rising to Tace’s defense.
“Tace said to apologize to you as soon as you got home,” he said, with a disarming grin. Berit still mistrusted his motives, but she had to smile at the sorry-not-sorry expression he wore while he gave his obviously prepared speech. “I’m sorry I was rude to you and that I referred to the brewery as ours when it really belongs to Tace.”
Berit wasn’t ready to relent, no matter how charming he was. “I’m just looking out for her. You have no idea how much work she’s put into the brewery, trying to get out of the hole of debt you put her in. She’s damned good at what she does, too, and she deserves a chance to be happy on her own, not just to devote her life to supporting you and your sister.”
“Jeez, why do I feel like I suddenly have two mothers when I don’t even have one?” Kyle asked with a skewed attempt at a smile. “I care about Tace, too, you know. I just asked her for some help. She’s always been willing to help.”
Berit sighed. She’d felt compassion for Tace because her mother left and she had to be in charge, but Kyle had been abandoned, too. Tace had responded by becoming hyperresponsible. Kyle had swung the other way, but both were responding to being hurt.
“Maybe, just this once, you can think of her instead of yourself.”
“Yeah, she said pretty much the same thing, so you can chill. She’s not giving me the cash to buy my restaurant in Malibu, even if she does sell the brewery. Big mistake, since I’d have made easy money there. She did offer me a job at the brewery, though.”
Berit crossed her arms over her chest. She was concerned to hear Tace was even considering selling, but she knew what it would mean to her if Kyle started acting more responsible and worked at the brewery with her. She wouldn’t dare give up on her own chances with the business, if it meant helping her brother as well as herself. “Are you going to take it?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She talked about hauling sacks of malt and moving kegs around. Sounds like slave labor in exchange for rent. Can you imagine? Having to pay rent in my own house.”
“Whose name is on the mortgage?”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “You sound just like her. Are you her girlfriend or her clone?”
Neither. Berit had never defined her relationship with Tace. Was it an affair, brief but intense? Were they lovers? Fuck-buddies? Berit cringed at the sound of the last one, but unfortunately it best defined their relationship. They were friends, they were having sex, and they had an expiration date on their time together. Girlfriend implied something more committed. None of them captured the depth of feeling she had for Tace.
“I’m not her clone, but I imagine she also said something along the lines of this being a good opportunity for you to shape up and get some real work experience.”
“Add something about character building, and you got it right.”
“You should give it a try. Stick around and help her this time instead of leaving her alone.”
“Oh, and you’re planning to stick around, too? Or are you abandoning her once the school year ends?”
Berit was silent. He was right. She was angry with him for walking out on Tace, but she was going to do the same thing. Her case was different, though. She’d never hidden her desire to get out of here from Tace.
“Thought so,” Kyle said. He sat on the couch again and watched the silent images flash across the screen. “I might go away now and then, but Stacy is my family. I’ll never leave her for good.”
“Where is she?” Berit had a sudden urge to find her. Tace had stood her ground with Kyle and Berit had a feeling the effort wasn’t easy for her. Would she follow through with what she’d said to him? Berit hoped so, for both siblings’ sakes and futures. What about her own future, and the guilt and sadness she’d feel once she left? Nothing a promising dig wouldn’t cure. She hoped.
Kyle turned the volume on again and raised his voice to speak over it. “She’s probably at the park. That’s where she always used to go when she got frustrated with me when we were kids.”
Berit left the house without another word and walked the short distance to Pioneer Park, her cane beating a quick rhythm as she hurried along the sidewalk. She hadn’t found time to visit the park yet, even though she and Tace had talked about doing so several times lately. They usually ended up in bed together instead. Berit felt a flush of heat at the thought of her afternoons and evenings with Tace. She pulled off the sweater she was wearing over a T-shirt and let the cool spring breeze wash over her hot skin.
Berit entered on one of the paved walkways leading into the park. The grass was lushly green and mown short and even. Dogwoods lined the paths, with white and pink blossoms creating a thick, lacy canopy. Small hillocks provided shady places to sit or lie back and read a book, and a children’s
play area—with climbing toys made of wood and brightly colored banners—was filled with screaming and running toddlers. Berit veered away from the families and saw a large net spanning a corner of the park. The aviary. She’d bet money Tace was nearby.
She found her sitting on the grass with an open book on her lap, staring at the small songbirds as they flitted back and forth in the contained area. Berit put her hand on a tree trunk and watched Tace for several seconds. They hadn’t spoken much since Kyle’s arrival, but she’d felt incongruously closer to her even so. Last night, she’d come out of the shower ready for a fight, ready to give an impassioned plea for Tace to resist her brother’s demands and keep her brewery. But she’d seen Tace’s face when she walked into the bedroom, and she’d recognized the expression. Just like she’d give a fellow archaeologist space to work through a gnawing problem or question, she gave Tace the same courtesy. They’d eaten pad Thai and cuddled in bed, talking about trivialities. Berit had made jokes about suffering through more of the candidates’ videos, and Tace had told her the asparagus was beginning to emerge. Berit had held her through the night, feeling the almost physical vibration of Tace’s thoughts whirring through her mind.
Somehow, recognizing what Tace needed and providing it for her—even though Berit hadn’t given advice or solved her problems—had strengthened her sense of intimacy with Tace. Berit tapped her cane against the tree while she considered the implications of her growing feelings. She needed to be pulling away now, slowly but steadily, so when she left they’d both be prepared. Ramping up their connection and then severing it abruptly would be too hard.
Berit finally walked over to Tace and sat on the grass. The dappled shade of a tall oak made Tace look like someone in a Seurat painting. Her face was inscrutable in the mottled light, but her smile when she saw Berit was unmistakably welcoming.
“You found me,” Tace said. She reached over and squeezed Berit’s leg, her hand lingering on Berit’s thigh for a long moment. Berit caught it in her own before Tace could pull away.
“Your brother said you’d be here. Apparently you sought refuge here often when he was a difficult teenager.”
“It was my second home,” Tace said with a half smile. “Did he apologize to you?”
Berit laughed. Tace and Kyle were adults now, but the mother-son dynamic was still strong. “Yes. I have a feeling he repeated verbatim the apology you told him to give. He said you offered him a job at the brewery.”
Tace nodded. “Anything else?”
“Well,” Berit hesitated. Was Tace ready to talk to her? She decided to broach the subject and find out. She’d back off if Tace seemed unwilling to discuss it. “He said you’re really thinking about selling the brewery, even though you won’t use the money to fund his crab shack or whatever it is.”
Tace shook her head. “Yeah, I resisted supporting his new scheme even though it sounds like such a wonderful investment opportunity.”
“Then why sell? I thought you were excited about the business.”
Tace sighed, and Berit gripped her hand tightly, offering support in the only way she could. Listen and be there for Tace. For now.
“He brought up some valid points, even in the midst of the goofy ones. Do I really have the knowledge and skill needed to make a living there? And there’s no doubt the money would be useful in other ways. I could travel or go back to school.”
“Both would be good, if you really want to do them. But you could also travel and take classes using the money you make once the brewery is established. I have no doubt you’ll be able to learn what you need as you go. You’ve picked up so much in such a short time.” Berit paused. She was arguing against herself, against the choice she’d prefer Tace to make, but she couldn’t stop. She could either support her own dreams or Tace’s, and she had to choose Tace. “Look at what’s changed since you’ve invested yourself in the place for about eight months. What could you accomplish in two years? Five years? At the rate you’re going, you could be selling bottles of your beer nationwide by then.”
“But Kyle made me remember my priority needs to be my family. I have obligations, not to buy him what is probably a smelly and decrepit fish joint, but to help Chris get through school. Then she’ll have all the chances I didn’t have.”
Berit frowned. She was about to tread into Tace’s family business, and she wondered if Tace would push her out or let her in. Oh, well. She’d been thinking they needed to pull back emotionally. This might break them completely apart. “Tace, you don’t owe Chris a debt-free education. There’s nothing bad about getting out of grad school with some student loans. Maybe Chris will appreciate what she’s working toward even more if she’s helping to finance it.” Berit switched her focus from the younger Lomonds to the one who really mattered to her—Tace. “You gave her and Kyle everything they wanted, no matter how hard you had to work to get it for them. You sacrificed yourself and your dreams to make theirs come true. When you were kids, you were doing your best to survive and take care of them, and I admire how fast you grew up and took responsibility. But they’re adults now.”
Berit remembered the day she finally paid off her student loans after years of dirty fieldwork. She’d earned the right to celebrate that night. Her grandfather hadn’t been able to leave her much money when he passed—he’d spent most of what he had on their trips to Greece—but the gifts he’d given her were beyond price. Passion and a heritage. Connections to him and the past that money couldn’t buy. Tace hadn’t been given those things, but she could find them now, with a little push from Berit. “You know what the brewery has meant to you, what it’s meant to see your hard work pay off and to feel the pride in doing something worthwhile. Don’t you owe them that legacy? And don’t you owe yourself that opportunity?”
Tace was silent. She didn’t look at Berit but instead kept watching the birds.
Berit was about to say she was sorry. To agree Tace was right to pay for whatever her siblings asked. She’d say anything to make sure she hadn’t alienated Tace, even though that had been a small part of her intention. Mostly, she wanted Tace to take a chance on herself, because she was more than worth it.
“I haven’t done Kyle any favors, have I?” Tace spoke quietly, then sighed and squeezed Berit’s hand. “Don’t look so worried. You haven’t overstepped any bounds. For as long as you are here, you’re part of my life. You’re actually the only voice speaking out for me, since I don’t seem inclined to do it myself.”
Berit felt an uncomfortable blossoming of feelings inside. Some were positive—she was proud of Tace for being open to reevaluation and self-scrutiny and she was honored to be counted as someone whose opinion and support mattered to her. But she was nearly overwhelmed by the less joyful emotions. Sadness because they were developing something beautiful together even though it would be short-lived. And disheartened because Tace was transforming into someone more confident in her abilities and value—deservedly so—but Berit wouldn’t be around to see how amazingly far she was able to go.
“So, what are you going to do?” she asked. She shifted until their legs were touching.
“I guess I’ll talk to Chris. I’ve mentioned the brewery, but I haven’t really told her how excited I get about being there. She’ll understand, and she can fill out loan applications, in case I can’t make enough to cover tuition for next term.” Tace shrugged, as if these words were simple to say, but Berit understood their true weight. “I’ll stay with the brewery for now, as long as I eventually can find a way to cover my expenses without needing to work two full-time jobs.”
Berit frowned. She believed Tace was making the right decision, even though she still didn’t believe in her chances of success. “You have such low expectations. When you’re selling beer to a bar manager, you’re more confident, but when you talk to me or—I’m assuming—when you talk to yourself, you don’t seem able to really see what potential you have. You should be bursting with pride at what you’ve done so far, and you should
be ready to fight for a better future than just getting by,” Berit said, her voice rising at her frustration with Tace’s inability to believe in herself. Berit knew how clever and capable she was. Even Chris and Kyle had no trouble depending on her for everything. Why couldn’t Tace see the same strength everyone else did? “The only options you let yourself see are bleak. Either you run the brewery and you’re poor and struggling, or you knock yourself out at a job you dislike for the rest of your life. Why can’t you envision something better for yourself, and then go get it?”
“Don’t try to turn me into you, Berit,” Tace said, her voice low.
“I’m not.” Berit felt the sudden rift between them. Tace had let her butt in to her family life, and listened to what she said about Chris’s loans, but she’d somehow crossed an unseen boundary. “I’m just trying to make you see—”
“You’re the risk taker. I’m not. I’ll try to make this job work on my own terms, and if that means my goal is breaking even or running the brewery as a hobby while I work at the store, then that’s what’s right for me. Like you said before, you need to aggressively promote your work in war-torn countries or to wealthy universities,” Tace said, her voice sharp with anger. Berit didn’t know if it was aimed at her, or at Tace herself. “I can take some suggestions and use them to sell beer, but I’m not going to turn this brewery into the next Anheuser-Busch. It’s not who I am.”
“Okay,” Berit said. She felt stunned by Tace’s speech. What nerve had she hit? The academic one again? Was Tace still convinced she was less a person because she didn’t have Berit’s credentials or her degrees? She pulled her hand away from Tace’s. “I don’t know what else I have to do to convince you that you are every bit as smart and worthwhile as I am, no matter how much money your brewery makes or how many credits you have in school. But if you want to keep telling yourself you don’t matter, go ahead. Just don’t say it to me because I don’t want to hear it anymore.” Berit stood up, leaning so heavily on her cane that the tip sank into the soft ground. “Keep going with what works for you—aim low enough and make plenty of excuses beforehand, then you won’t be surprised when you fail.”