Sunshine & Whiskey

by R. L. Griffin

  “I can’t, for the life of me, understand why you helped Peter,” I start.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” she cuts me off.

  I’m stunned, and my head whips back like she’s physically slapped me.

  “I think you two needed some sort of closure, and you were ignoring all his texts and calls and this was the only way to put an end to everything.” Her voice is full of exasperation and it’s aimed at me.

  “I did put an end to it, I left Denver. I told him it was over, whatever there was to be over…” I debate and I’m not sure I believe what she’s telling me. “What’s your problem? Why wouldn’t you at least give me a heads up?”

  “Because I know you. My problem is I need to do my own thing, I’ve given this business some thought, and I just need to do my own thing. I need to be valued. I can do more than this.”

  I blink. What? This isn’t what I thought we’d be talking about. “Where is all this coming from?”

  “It’s coming from you making all the decisions. It’s coming from the fact you can’t even face your ex-boyfriend. It comes from the fact that you just fucking waltz into my house. It’s coming from the fact I feel like a mooch.”

  Standing, I walk over to her. “A mooch?”

  “Yes,” she answers simply.

  “I’ve never treated you like that,” I rebut.

  “You always say I, Megan. I’m going to invest in this. I need you to do this…” Her hands are moving wildly around her as she’s trying to explain herself.

  “What the fuck does this have to do with Peter coming here last night? What the fuck are you even talking about?” I throw my hands, infuriated with the way this conversation is going.

  “Just…” She walks to her front door and opens it. “It’s about you coming in here without knocking,” she repeats. “It’s about you thinking I have to do what you say. I don’t want our friendship to be over, but with you thinking you’re in charge of me I want to leave. I want to go back to New York so I can continue with my life and I’m not under your thumb.”

  I step backwards like she’s slapped me again. Honestly, I feel like she’s slapped me multiple times. Things are breaking inside of me. I can handle being sued, I have a great attorney. Dealing with ex-boyfriends is something I’ve been doing for years, but losing my best friend feels different, like my heart may actually explode under the pressure. I really didn’t mean to treat her like this. I need her. I trust her.

  I blink. She leans on her hip and waves me out.

  “You’re just leaving?” I ask weakly.

  She sticks her hip even further at me as I walk down the front steps.

  “You’re just going to leave?” I ask again and turn and walk a few steps toward my house, and when I turn back, she’s standing there watching me. “I don’t forgive you for Peter. I don’t, that’s just fucked up. I don’t know about the other stuff because this is the first time I’m hearing about it, but I think of you as my equal in everything, so this is your shit.”

  Max appears behind her and looks at me with a strained expression on his face. Then he walks past Laura and to his SUV without saying a word. He cranks it and leaves as quickly as he can.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  I Love You Anyway

  The next day is Saturday and I go to the office because I’m still so mad at Laura I don’t want to be in the same vicinity as her right now. Mid-morning I get bored with pretending to work and I go home. Laura’s car is gone.

  Walking into the kitchen I take stock of my new life. There are pictures of me and Laura from our trip everywhere. There is one from the Hoover Dam. I framed the picture we took in Jackson Square. My favorite picture is the one of us pretending to hold the sun in Austin during the most gorgeous sunset on earth. Sighing, I open the cabinets to make a snack. When I pull open the refrigerator I see on the door all the magnets made from all the pictures Laura took and posted to Instagram. There is Meat with me pretending to hit him in the six pack as he’s holding his shirt up in a douche bag pose. A tear falls down my cheek. She better apologize soon.

  I sit down and pull my laptop over and power it on. I call Justin and actually listen to him. He emailed me the complaint and I’ve read it. We’re going to counter sue for frivolous lawsuit, demanding attorney’s fees. He also sent me the draft of a Motion to Dismiss that I’m pretty sure we’ll win. I’m sitting with my ankles crossed on my coffee table, my laptop on my thighs.

  “So they fired Chad today,” Justin informs me after I drone on for fifteen minutes about legal strategy.

  “They did,” I squeal.

  Silence.

  “Justin?”

  “Sorry, I think your squeal damaged my eardrum. What did you say?”

  “Richard really fired him?”

  “Yes, they called a partners meeting on a Saturday morning, then called him in and told him. I watched him as he packed his office up and left the key. Why are you surprised?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The client is always right. Especially a client with a bajillion dollars. A lawyer at said firm cannot then sue huge client. Huge client always wins.”

  “Oh, that’s me,” I squeal again. “I have a bajillion dollars and it trumps that piece of shit, and now he’s going to have to find a new job and start over, trying to make partner somewhere.”

  “You’re so much better than him.”

  “I know,” I agree and clap my hands as I slump back against my couch. “So Lo and I had a huge fight and she left.”

  “No way, Thelma is leaving Louise?”

  “Fuck you, I want to be Thelma. Wait, which one was Gina Davis? I want to have sex with Brad Pitt.”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Me either.”

  “So what happened? She get tired of your bitchiness? Get tired of the vagfest?”

  “Pretty much, I think.”

  “Wait, really?”

  “She said all these things about me, Justin. She said I was selfish and it was all about me, but I paid for this last six months for us. I don’t really know what I did, we’ve had fun, we’ve made a company together that I’m proud of and she’s just bailing because we had one fight.”

  “What happened before this?”

  “She helped get Peter here and it was the night me and Magic were finally going to do the deed. He drove me home and there was Peter saying shit about ‘I was it for him.’”

  “Aw, he said that?”

  “You’re losing focus.”

  “What was Magic wearing?”

  “Really?”

  “I’m just saying I need a better picture. You’ve said he’s hot, got dark hair and gray eyes, but I mean, does he work out?”

  “He outran me at the 8k and he’s got a pretty hard body. I mean...I didn’t get to see him naked. He left me in my underwear because of Peter.”

  “Were you in your underwear when you got home?”

  “No, jackass, Magic came inside, but then said he could hear the heartbreaks all around or some shit and left me standing in my fucking underwear.”

  “Damn, are you serious?”

  I nod, like he can see me.

  “Then what?”

  “Wait, am I paying you for this?”

  “You bet baby.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Then I stormed up to Laura’s to cuss her out and Peter was there, drinking a beer, and I wanted to stab her even more. Then I had sex with Peter and drove him to the airport the next day.”

  Silence.

  I’m waiting for his response.

  “You’re such a whore, I love you anyway.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Wolf Centered

  Justin made me feel a bit better about the lawsuit situation and convinced me I didn’t have to fly to Atlanta because of Chad. He also told me there is a story coming out about what I’m doing now on some stupid entertainment show. Who the fuck cares what I�
�m doing? They are going to tell where I’m living and the fact I’ve given money to charities. I’m pissed because now people will know I’m here, in Napa. I guess it was going to happen eventually.

  It’s been a week of Laura being gone. I miss her. I’m still completely baffled and now I’m pretty morose. It’s weird when the one person you’ve counted on for years lets you down. That’s how I feel. Don’t think I think this is all her fault, but it’s not mine either.

  I’m sipping whiskey while I’m watching some awards show, and I pick up my phone to text her. Then realize I haven’t talked to her all week.

  I miss her. I already said that? Sorry.

  I text her against my better judgment.

  Are you watching this shit? Why do women have to wear bathing suits to sing?

  I put my phone down and try not to stare at it through the worst song I’ve ever heard with an even grosser performance. My phone dings and I pick up quickly.

  OMG it’s horrible. I want to dance around and shake my ass for millions of dollars. If that’s all it takes I can totally wear a bathing suit.

  Then another message comes in.

  Oh and Nikki FUX needs to eat a fucking hamburger.

  I laugh out loud.

  She does need to eat several burgers. I will say that Nikki Fucks is a very interesting name. Do you think she has to tell every person she meets it’s not fucks it’s F-U-X.

  A message comes quickly.

  She has people to do that for her. No, no, no. Are you an idiot? It’s not fucks it’s F-U-X.

  I message her back.

  Hmmm who are these “people” you speak of. I’d wear a bathing suit to make all that money.

  A message comes through.

  But you don’t have to, you won the lottery.

  I cock my head to the side. Maybe she’s going to tell me what’s really going on.

  What do you need from me to know that I need you to help me? I view us as equals. I want you to work with me. If I need to move and leave you the farm, I will. I don’t want you to feel like you have to be in NY to get away from me.

  The next five minutes are pure torture. As soon as I thought she wasn’t going to answer she does.

  You’re so wolf centered. Not everything is about you.

  I can’t decide if I’m going to laugh or cry.

  I know this isn’t about me. I’m sorry, for whatever it is. I’m sorry you felt like I owed Peter anything. I don’t think I did. I’m mad because you didn’t tell me. We have each other’s backs. I would rather you tell me your issues with me than blow up and help Peter come here or fly across the country. I promise not to be as wolf centered if you come back and help me. Please.

  My phone dings with a message as I’m refilling my whiskey glass.

  I don’t think you can help your wolfness, it might be hereditary.

  I spit my whiskey across the room.

  Oh no you didn’t. Just because my mom is a wolf doesn’t mean I am...or does it?

  I actually do think this as I’m typing the message. Then scan through my memories of our trip and since we’ve been here and drop my head in defeat.

  Fucking wolf mother…

  I’m sorry.

  Really

  Forgive me and come give me hell. Who else am I going to judge all these celebrities with?

  She finally responds.

  Stop drinking whiskey. I’ll be home in two days.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Scary Shit

  When Laura gets back to her house she’s sick. Like red nose, snot everywhere, eyes watering sick. I am bringing her Pho and hot tea for lunch.

  “You look hot.” I set the mug of peppermint tea with honey and the chicken Pho in front of her on the couch. Her hair is piled on her head and she’s wearing Uggs and sweats, the hood of her sweatshirt is lopsided on her head.

  “Fuck off,” she retorts.

  “Hey, is that the way to talk to your friend who stopped at the Vietnamese place you love to bring you lunch?”

  “I feel like death climbed in through my nose and settled in my throat.”

  “Wow, hopefully it won’t last long. Clara said that the honey in the tea will help your cough.”

  “Death,” she says simply with a voice that crackles with mucus.

  “Okay, well. I’ll leave you. Do you need anything else?”

  She shakes her head at me.

  “Have you talked to Max?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I told him you were back.”

  Her eyes say, you bitch.

  I shrug. “He likes you and he was hurt, I didn’t think you’d care.”

  She takes a spoonful of soup.

  “Why are you ignoring him? Did he suck in bed?”

  Her eyebrows rise.

  “You sucked in bed?” I guess.

  Her brow furrows.

  “Your face isn’t talking the way it usually does.”

  “It was fucking perfect okay. Now leave me alone with my sickness.”

  “Perfect, huh?” I sit down.

  “Ugh.”

  “You know you can’t say something like that and then tell me to leave.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re being ridiculous.”

  “I don’t judge you when you’re being ridiculous,” she warns.

  “Yes you do, that’s why you helped get Peter here, which I’m still not okay with by the way.”

  “Well, I don’t need your judgment.”

  “Then talk to me Lo.”

  Laura is holding the mug between her hands and looks completely lost. “I’m pretty sure I’m head over heels in love with him, and it’s the scariest thing that’s happened to me since....”

  She trails off and I pull her in an all out bear hug. “Thank you for coming back,” I whisper.

  Her shoulders shake in response as she lets tears flow down her face.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Wine Education?

  I’m buzzing with excitement. Laura is watching me flit about the office in anticipation of Max picking us up. I’ve trained myself in the last week to not ask about Max, she’s scared and I’m not about to step in front of the emotional train she’s become.

  “Would you sit down?”

  “I’ve never seen how they actually make wine before. I’m eager.”

  “You’re eager for that?” Her face says she knows why I’m really eager. It’ll be the first time I’ve seen Magic since the whole leaving me in my underwear thing.

  “Fuck right off.”

  Max pulls his SUV over to the sidewalk in front of the office and I hop up and scoot to the exit, waving Laura through it. He rolls down the window of his Toyota Sequoia. “Who’s ready to shoot some wine?”

  “Is it ready?” My voice is high and annoying. I tell myself to calm the fuck down.

  Laura shoots me an annoyed look as she heads to the passenger seat.

  “Hey,” she says to Max. He winks at her.

  I slam the back door and wait.

  “No, Sunshine, his wine isn’t quite ready yet.”

  Laura’s eyebrows shoot up. Meat is the only person on earth who calls me that.

  “Why are you calling her Sunshine?”

  “Because it pisses Walker off, and I’ve just started thinking of her that way.” He turns to me. “That cool?”

  I smile and nod. Magic must’ve mentioned the whole Sunshine text to him. What does that mean? I begin over analyzing shit in my brain because isn’t that what we do.

  “Stop,” Laura says to me, but Max looks at her funny.

  “That’s cool, Max,” I finally answer.

  The drive to the winery is beautiful. The vineyard is in Sonoma County, which is just south of Napa Valley proper. Even in December the valley is gorgeous. The sun is out in full force making the entire day perfect. I lean back, listen to the easy banter between Max and Laura, and enjoy the day.

  Magic is in round toed boots and work gloves whe
n he walks up the dirt road to meet us in the small parking area. There’s a warehouse type building behind Magic and the sun makes his dark hair look surrounded by a halo.

  “Hey man.” Max pulls Magic into a bro hug.

  “Hi.” Laura waves.

  I am at a loss as to what to say. Do I acknowledge him seeing me in my underwear? Do I share the fact I’m mortified? I blink. I wave.

  His eyes tell me he’s picturing what’s underneath my jeans and sweater right now. I look away at the acres of vines to the right of the warehouse.

  “Come on, I’ll show you around a bit. I was hoping I would have a couple of wines for tasting, but they aren’t ready yet.”

  He shows us through the warehouse from the destemming machines to the trellises set up for the wines for the next harvest. It’s a small vineyard, and based on Magic’s rambling conversation with Max it’s been hard work.

  “We’ve tried a couple of the wines and the Cab I was hoping would be ready for this year is too hard. I’m not sure we can salvage it.”

  “Hard?” I ask because I don’t know what that means in terms of wine and I’m twelve.

  “It means there is too much tannin,” he answers.

  I would ask what tannin means, but I think I remember someone saying it’s in most red wines and I don’t want Magic to think I’m an idiot.

  “Your dad would be proud, man,” Max says as he and Magic walk to an office area toward the side of the warehouse. “I wish we could’ve celebrated with your wine, but instead I brought some sparkling from Mumm to toast.”

  Max disappears into the office and comes out beaming with the wine and champagne flutes. I’m trying to avoid Magic’s gaze.

  “What sort of barrels do you use Walker?” Laura asks.

  “My dad already had a ton of oak barrels from France imported before he got sick. We use those. The chardonnay that’s almost ready is the fruity, oaky mix that he would’ve loved.” Magic’s eyes dance when he talks about the wine. “We also have a Pinot Noir that’s a big, robust wine. The fruits hit you immediately, then that earthy quality follows, but it’s subtle. I’m so happy with Vincent. Dad hired him and he’s been working with a viticulturist to figure out the best place to plant the grapes, and he constantly monitors the maturity of the grapes. He oversaw the crushing and makes sure the fermentation is done right. I, of course, help him taste the wine, but that’s about all I can take credit for right now. Now, I just need to make sure that the wine quality is sustained during the bottling process.”