Erin’s heart sank when she saw the photo. Jen’s smile was weak and strained. Her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and she looked as if she’d lost some weight. During their almost-nightly phone calls, Erin had detected a note of phony happiness in Jen’s voice from time to time. She’d said all the right things, but something had been off in Jen’s tone. These pictures proved it. While she might pretend to be better now, over Charlie and the heartbreak, she clearly wasn’t. The two or three times Erin had talked to their aunt on the phone over the last weeks had also seemed to confirm exactly that. Aunt Eddie had suggested things were a little better, but she’d also told her that Jen was certainly not back to normal. Sighing, Erin put the tablet away.
Too agitated to stand there waiting for a customer, she decided to polish the high tables in the center of the tasting room. The sides of the tasting room had smaller, more intimate tables, but the center of the room contained three long, group tables that stretched nearly its length. They were tall and, like all of the wood in the brewery, made of beetle kill pine, all a shiny warm yellow. Tall metal stools were set up along each side, and Erin pushed moved these aside to give herself room to work.
Jen had long ago insisted on using all-natural products for as many of the cleaning and upkeep tasks as possible, and after Erin began rubbing the first long table with lemon oil, she sent Jen a silent thought of thankfulness. No customer should smell harsh cleaners in a brewery, and the lemon, mixed with the heady odors of yeast and hops, was delicious and cheering. It was just one more example of Jen’s wisdom and good sense.
Erin had known she would miss her sister during this time, and it was more than simply needing her here at work. Jen was her best friend, and it was difficult to be without her for so long. Not since college had they spent so much time apart, and her absence had been trying and depressing.
The polishing task absorbed and pleased her so much that she barely noticed when the door opened behind her. The jingle bells they’d hung for the holiday chimed merrily, but she didn’t immediately turn around. She sent out a general greeting and told the customer she’d be right there, but continued polishing the table, nearly finished. When she finally looked up, smiling, it took her a long beat to realize that Darcy was now sitting at the front counter.
Erin froze in place, clutching the little rag and bottle of lemon oil she’d been using. The smile died on her face, and pure fury rose up from within. She flashed from hot to deadly cold and clutched the rag and the bottle so hard she started shaking. With careful, quiet calculation, she set the bottle and rag down on the table she’d just polished, afraid that if she continued to hold them, she might throw them.
Erin took a couple of steps closer and then stopped, afraid to approach Darcy in her current fury. “What do you want?”
Darcy seemed surprised at her tone, her eyebrows shooting up. “I’m sorry. Have I come at a bad time?”
Erin closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. If she was going to get through this without flying off the handle, she needed to control her anger. It was always better to be civil during an argument. She’d learned this over the years with her father. It was always smarter to be the better man, as it were, than fly into a furious rage. She opened her eyes and calmly walked around behind the bar counter. She wanted to have a kind of barrier between them, for Darcy’s safety and her own. Darcy turned in her stool to face her, and they stayed there, staring at each other in total silence.
Again, Erin took a deep breath, let it out, and finally relaxed a little. “How can I help you?”
As before, Darcy seemed confused, but she shook her head and changed her expression to something like natural before speaking. “I wanted to talk to you before my family and I head up to Aspen. I wasn’t sure if I would get another chance to see you this trip, so I just drove here from Boulder. I couldn’t let things stay how they are.”
Erin didn’t reply.
Darcy flushed a little, but she continued. “You see, the thing is, I’ve been thinking about us. A lot. I mean, even before we ran into each other yesterday…I don’t know how to tell you…” There was a long pause as she sat there silently. Darcy’s face darkened further, and her eyes darted away from Erin’s. She swallowed a few times, and for the first time, Erin could see that she was agitated, nervous about something. With someone so generally placid and calm, Darcy’s nervousness, which might go unnoticed in someone else, was striking. Darcy looked at her with something like panic in her eyes, clearly hoping for some kind of help, and still, Erin didn’t say a word.
Darcy took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. I’m just going to say it. God knows what you’ll think of me when I do, but I feel like if I don’t tell you, I’m going to lose my mind.”
Erin’s curiosity rose a little, piercing her cold anger, but she wasn’t curious enough to overcome her hurt and resentment. She kept her mouth closed but nodded slightly.
Darcy seemed relieved to see that Erin was willing to listen to her, and her face regained some of its normal color. Darcy sat up a little straighter, folded her hands, and said, “I have been fighting this for a while, Erin, but I can no longer repress my feelings. I have to tell you, and like I said, if I don’t do it now, I don’t know when I’ll ever get the chance. I admire you.”
In her surprised confusion, Erin couldn’t help but respond. “Admire me? What does that even mean?”
Darcy paled this time and swallowed. “I admire your passion for your work, your love for your sister, your success despite all odds. I admire your business, your dedication to your chosen craft, but most of all, I admire you. This has caused me to feel certain things for you—things I’ve struggled against but no longer wish to. I want…” She met Erin’s eyes for the first time since she began. “I want to get to know you. I want us to start seeing each other. More seriously, I mean, than before.”
Erin was so stunned, this time she couldn’t reply.
Darcy clearly saw some of this shock in her face, but, obviously reading her lack of reply as happy surprise, she went on. “I know the odds are against us. My family, for example, will be horrified. You won’t believe the kind of garbage that came out of my Aunt Catherine’s mouth last night about you after you left. She has other plans for me, as Willie no doubt told you, and even Willie seems to expect that I’ll follow her plan and start dating Anne.
“And you live in this backwoods little town. I mean, now that I’ve been here a while, I can see some of its charms, but I don’t understand why you would want to stay here. I know your family is here, and that you have some kind of sentimental attachment to this place, but it’s hard for me to understand. I mean, God—are there even people of color here? And I can’t imagine what the gay nightlife is like.
“But I don’t care what it takes. If it means finding a place here for a while, I’ll do it. For you. I don’t want to go back to Boston without you.”
Throughout this diatribe, Erin’s anger had transformed from something initially volcanic to a deeply rooted, frozen rage. She let Darcy continue purely out of curiosity. Could the woman keep on insulting her with every word out of her mouth, or would she eventually realize the depths to which her words had horrified and disgusted Erin? Apparently, she hadn’t. Now finished, Darcy grinned with smug satisfaction, as if she were waiting for Erin to leap across the bar and into her arms. Erin detected nothing like regret or even doubt in Darcy’s face to suggest that she understood what she’d just done and said.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Erin finally said. She’d just managed not to shout, but her voice was loud enough to carry across the room. The two drinkers in the corner turned their way.
Darcy reacted as if she’d been slapped, visibly flinching.
Erin leaned forward onto the bar, merely to put her hands somewhere. She was once again afraid she might slap this woman. She’d never been physical with anyone in anger before, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be.
“You come in here, y
ou say these things to me, and you expect what—a prize? You have insulted everything I care about. You couldn’t have said things in a way that would have hurt me any more than you just did.”
“That’s not what I meant—”
“I don’t care what you meant! You just told me that, against your better judgement, you’ve basically decided to make the sacrifice to be with me. How on earth do you think that makes me feel?”
“You’re misunderstanding—”
“And beyond that, how on earth do you think I could ever get involved with someone who, ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of my sister?”
Darcy’s mouth, which had been open to interrupt her again, snapped closed. She had looked incredulous and stunned, but now her expression closed down into an icy fury.
They stared at each other, each fuming, until Erin could no longer stand it. “Are you going to deny it? You separated them, didn’t you?”
Darcy shook her head. “I don’t deny it. From the beginning, right after they met, I did everything in my power to keep them apart, but Charlie wouldn’t listen. For weeks, I told him he should stop, for Jen’s sake as much as his. He was smitten, and he dismissed every warning I gave him. He finally listened to me, but I basically had to beg. It helped that we had to go to Boston that day regardless, but I’ve talked him out of coming back here. Ever, I hope.”
Erin’s anger dried up. Instead, the sorrow she’d felt last night returned in full force. For a moment, tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she turned away abruptly to hide them. She refused to give Darcy the satisfaction of seeing how much she’d hurt her. She blinked rapidly and took a few deep breaths, but, still shaken, she kept her back turned.
Erin swallowed a couple of times. “Was it because of the money? Is that why you drove them apart?”
After a long pause, Darcy finally replied. “How can you even ask that? Is that what you think of me?”
Erin whirled around, ready to defend herself, but when she saw Darcy’s expression, the words died on her lips. The defiant, angry coldness from Darcy’s face was gone. Instead, she seemed pained again, hurt. Like Erin, her eyes were brimming with tears.
“You give me no choice,” Erin finally managed. “Without explanation, that’s all I’m left to believe. My sister loves Charlie. Even now, she’s off nursing a broken heart, and I’m afraid she’ll never get over him.”
A single tear splashed down Darcy’s cheek, then another. She continued to stare at Erin, her eyes flickering over different parts of her face. They said nothing, and watching Darcy cry made Erin feel like she might start again. Finally, Darcy got to her feet. She hastily wiped her eyes and turned to leave. She started walking toward the door and then paused a few feet away. Erin watched her dig around in her oversized purse for a moment. She pulled out a magazine and then came and laid it on the counter.
“I meant to give this to you yesterday. It’s an advance copy. It’s on newsstands today.”
With that, she turned again and left the brewery without saying another word.
Erin started shaking all over. The extent of her emotion actually made her weak in the knees, and it was all she could do to make it to one of the small tables and collapse into a chair. She was crying, and she couldn’t seem to hold on to one thought as they whirled around in her head. She continued to hear Darcy’s words and see her hurt expression. Erin’s anger, however, quickly overcame her pity, and fury raced through her again.
She might have sat there all night, emotions warring between sorrow and anger, but she snapped back into reality at the sound of the evening shift arriving in the brewery. She looked around, almost guiltily, and realized she was alone. Somewhere amidst her conversation with Darcy, the two remaining drinkers had departed without notice.
She wiped her eyes and carefully rose, afraid that if she moved too quickly she might collapse in a heap on the floor. She was about to go into the back room and hide long enough to regain her equilibrium for the night ahead when she remembered the magazine on the counter. She grabbed it, unwilling to read it right then, and went into the back office to calm down.
Several hours later, after another busy night, she was safely at home. The brewery was catching up, finally, and, in addition to getting everyone home before midnight, everyone should be able to take the holiday off, including her. She’d made the announcement at closing to a series of cheers from her staff. It was the first time in a long time everyone seemed to go home happy.
She’d brought the magazine home with her, intending to read it, but once she’d taken it out of her backpack, she couldn’t make herself do more than open it to the table of contents. She paced around her house for a while, sitting down at the table to read only to get up again and pace around some more. She didn’t know why she was so nervous. Clearly, it was going to be a good review. Darcy would never have declared herself otherwise—even she didn’t have the gall to do that. But of course, it was more than the review. Opening and reading Darcy’s words would be like seeing her again, or at least a part of Erin had convinced herself of that possibility. She didn’t want to see Darcy again. As far as Erin was concerned, if she never thought of her again after today, all the better. Still, Erin knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight if she didn’t know what Darcy had said about BSB.
Shortly after midnight, she decided to call Lottie. She couldn’t help herself. Like the last time she’d called this late, Lottie answered on the second ring, almost as if she’d been waiting.
“What’s up, Erin?”
“I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t be calling this late—”
“Don’t worry about it. It must be important. What’s going on?”
Erin paused. “Listen. Could you look up something on the Internet for me?”
“Is yours down or something?”
“No. That’s not it.” Erin couldn’t think of anything that would explain her request without giving herself away, so she decided not to try. “I know it sounds strange, but I can’t make myself do something. I’ll explain this all to you later. In fact, I probably should have said something sooner, but I couldn’t.”
“You’re not making any sense, Erin.”
She sighed. “I know. I’ll stop blubbering. Anyway, I need you to look up a review for BSB in Food and Beverage. Could you read it for me and tell me what you think?”
“Food and Beverage? Really? That sounds important.”
“It is. At least I think it is. Could you? Please? I know it’s a lot to ask.”
Lottie yawned, loudly, and Erin could picture her stretching in bed. “Sure. Just give me a few minutes to read it, and I’ll call you back. Try not to freak out. It sounds like that’s what you’re doing.”
“I am.”
“Well, try not to. BSB is the best.”
“Thanks, Lottie.”
The wait was infinite. At first, Erin thought that if she paced around her house, she’d feel better. Instead, her nervous pacing seemed to make her more anxious. Her heart was racing, and her palms and forehead were slick with sweat. She was tempted to get out the tequila and take a shot, but she decided that would only make matters worse. She sat for a few minutes, stood up, paced around, and sat down again. She was surprised, when she checked the clock, to see that it had been only twenty minutes since the phone call.
Another twenty endless minutes later, and Erin was starting to believe that Lottie must have accidently fallen asleep again. She was just about to call her and check, when the doorbell rang. Erin couldn’t help but let out a yelp of surprise, but she wasn’t surprised to see Lottie when she opened the door.
Lottie immediately came in and into her arms, and they hugged, hard, for a long moment. Lottie eventually drew away and put her hands on Erin’s shoulders.
“It’s really, really good, Erin.”
Erin’s tension, which had built up into something hard and tight in her stomach, finally let go, and she felt weak with relief.
“Oh, thank God.”
<
br /> “Let’s sit down,” Lottie suggested. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”
They made their way into the little living room and sat next to each other on the couch. Erin left the lights off as the came into the room, but the streetlights from outside were enough to avoid banging into things. Erin was glad it was dark. She was afraid that if Lottie saw her face, she’d see something in there Erin would have to explain.
As if sensing that Erin was incapable of speech right now, Lottie began talking. “The review gave you the highest points possible on every single beer except one.”
“The lager?”
Lottie laughed. “Exactly. But we both know lager isn’t your strong suit. Anyway, in addition to praising the beers to the skies, it also praised the brewery, though it did suggest that it needed to expand.”
“Which is only the truth.”
“She said,” Lottie continued, emphasizing the word she a little, “that your brewery was by far the best in the state, and possibly in the entire region.”
“She said that?”
“She did.”
They sat in silence. Lottie had taken Erin’s hands, and they were close enough that no space was between them.
Lottie finally broke the silence. “I could tell last night that something was going on between you two. I’m sorry I forced us to go to dinner with them. I didn’t know until I realized how upset you were. I just wanted to piss her off.” She paused. “What happened? Do you want to talk about her?”
The story boiled up in her, threatening to come out, but Erin forced it back down. Even if she admitted to having had, and possibly still having, some feelings for Darcy, what difference did it make now? All of that was over, and they’d never see each other again. Darcy would go home to Boston, and Erin and Jen would have to get on with their lives as best they could.
Pride and Porters Page 17