Trouble Brewing

by Suzanne Baltsar

  I started toward the automatic doors outside, and Dad threw his arm around my shoulders. “Come on, tell me about this Blake guy while we walk.”

  My dad was good-natured, always pretending to be intimidating to boys when we were younger, but he was honestly too nice to ever scare anyone away.

  “He’s smart,” I said, pulling my cell phone out. “He used to be a business litigation lawyer, but quit to open up the pub. He’s trying to teach me how to swim.” I showed Dad the picture of me in the pink floaties Blake had found, and he laughed.

  “How’s that working out?”

  “Eh. He’s gotten me to put my head under water.”

  “Baby steps,” my dad said with a chuck under my chin.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Blake. He’d made dinner reservations for the four of us at the Bachelor Farmer, a cool, mostly organic, Nordic-inspired restaurant.

  “That’s sweet,” Mom said, reading the text when I showed it to her.

  “How about I drop you and Dad off at the hotel, you take a nap or relax a little bit, then we can meet up later? Sound good?”

  “Sounds great.”

  After dropping them off, I called Blake.

  “Hey, Sunshine,” he said when he picked up.

  “You’re the best, you know that?”

  “I do, but I always like hearing it.”

  I laughed. “Also, not at all arrogant.”

  “I’d never dream of it.” He actually sounded appalled at the accusation.

  “I’m going to go home and clean up the house a bit since I didn’t get a chance to this morning. I’m sure they’ll want to come over to see Sonja and hang out.”

  “Hang out?”

  “Yeah. I actually like my parents.”

  My mom and dad had always been the cool parents. Laid-back but firm, they never treated us like children. We did the usual things like staying out past curfew, but my sisters and I never got into serious trouble, and we were all really close. I’d come to realize as I got older that a family who all got along and spoke regularly was rather unusual. I couldn’t be more appreciative of my parents and sisters.

  He hummed on the other end of the line. “True. Do you need some help?”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll call you later.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  We hung up, and I made a mental note to buy some extra special lingerie for my extra special guy. I hurried home to vacuum, pick up dirty dishes lying around, and light a few candles. Not that our house smelled bad, but between Sonja’s sweaty sneakers in every corner and the residual hops and wheat smell permeating from the garage, our house didn’t smell good. I had just enough time to shower and change before my parents showed up at my door.

  “How’d you get here?” I asked, looking over my dad’s shoulder to the random silver car at the curb.

  “I have Uber now,” he said, all proud of himself.

  I ushered my parents inside. “I thought you’d lie down for a bit.”

  Dad kissed the top of my head. “Couldn’t sleep when I’m just a few miles away from one of my top three favorite children.”

  “Well, gee, that’s just about the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I try.”

  Mom held her phone up. “Smile, you two.”

  Mom was forever snapping pictures. We’d only recently gotten her to upgrade from disposable cameras, and that was because we taught her how much easier it was to have them developed with the Walgreens app.

  Mom smiled and pocketed her phone before checking how the house had changed since she’d been here last. Sonja had added funky mirrors along the back wall in the living room, and I’d bought the brown-and-teal rug for the floor. Her eyes caught on the plant on the side table.

  She pointed at it. “A cactus?”

  “Blake gave it to me on our first date. He said it reminded him of me.”

  Dad huffed. “A pointy, ugly plant reminded him of you?”

  I turned the pot so they could see the budding flower. “A cactus blooms in the harshest of conditions. It’s tough yet beautiful.”

  My dad’s mouth moved into a begrudging smile. “Pretty slick.”

  “I know, right?” I laughed, and led them out to the backyard, where we sat at the small bistro table, enjoying the late afternoon sun. Leo followed us outside, sprawling on his back for a tan. I took selfies with Mom to send to my sisters to make them jealous and talked shop with my dad. He’d always been enormously supportive of me. I don’t know many fathers who’d be okay with sending their daughter off into the world to make alcohol.

  My dad was.

  “Hey, hey, hey, what’s going on out here?” Blake said from behind me.

  I jumped in my seat and whipped around. “What are you doing here?”

  His dimple made a charming appearance as he shrugged. “Thought I’d call it a day a little early.”

  “And you thought you’d sneak up on us like a creep?”

  “I heard your laugh from the sidewalk.” He leaned down to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful.”

  I moved slightly to kiss his lips, but kept it strictly PG. I turned back to my parents, who were both watching us with goofy smiles pasted on their faces. “Blake, these are my parents, Jamie and Christine. Mom, Dad, this is Blake.”

  My floppy-haired hero offered my parents a winning grin. “Nice to meet you both. Piper has told me a lot about you.”

  My dad shook Blake’s hand. “That’s funny, because she hasn’t told us anything about you.”

  “Dad,” I chided him.

  Blake laughed congenially. “That’s all right. There isn’t much to tell. I’m just the guy who’s hopelessly obsessed with your daughter.”

  My mom skipped his handshake and went right for the hug. “Don’t listen to my husband. He’s a fantastic liar. Piper’s told us a lot about you, but come on, sit. I want to know more.”

  She pushed him into the chair next to her and I watched, bemused. My dad sipped his water with a slight quirk to his lips. My mother would have Blake occupied for the rest of the night. We stayed quiet as she questioned him for the next thirty minutes, and he responded with his usual charisma. Blake had her eating out of his palm by the time we left for dinner because of course.

  My mom couldn’t not love him. He was good-looking, owned his business, and had perfect manners. Between his obvious intelligence and healthy knowledge of Colorado trivia, which I was sure he spent quite a bit of time googling, Blake had won my dad over, too.

  Blake was everything parents could want in a man for their daughter: brains, conviction, sense of humor, and most of all, respect for me.

  He drove us to the Bachelor Farmer in his car, my dad in the front seat, asking all kinds of questions about the vehicle. I had no idea what they were saying, but I was happy they were getting along.

  “He’s so sweet,” my mom said quietly, leaning over to my side in the back.

  “Who?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Blake, that’s who.”

  “Thought you were talking about Dad.”

  She playfully poked my shoulder before launching into a story about Laurie and her husband, Jack, and their latest round of IVF. I listened absently while my eyes were on Blake. He’d gotten his hair trimmed so it didn’t hang over his ears, and he was clean shaven. I could only assume he’d done it to impress my parents, and the thought made me adore him more.

  He held my hand from the parking lot into the restaurant, and my brain wandered into the future as I watched my parents walking in front of us, my dad’s arm around my mom’s shoulders. They’d been married for thirty years and were still in love.

  The idea flitted through my mind that I could have the same thing, and maybe it would be with Blake.

  Once inside, Blake and I sat in the tall booth across from my parents in high-back chairs. “How did you two meet?” Blake asked after we ordered.

  “We met in college, at a bar
. I had my eye on this girl across the place all night. I noticed her platinum blond hair and tight pink pants.”

  “It was the eighties,” Mom interjected.

  “And all of her friends were watching so intently as she told whatever story she was telling, and I thought God, I have to meet this girl.”

  Blake squeezed my knee, and I looked over to him.

  He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and tugged twice on my earlobe. “Sounds familiar.”

  “So when I needed a partner for pool,” Dad went on, “I asked Chris.”

  “I liked that he was so tall,” she said, and Blake and I laughed as Dad shrugged.

  “Good genetics.”

  “Used the old let-me-show-you-how-to-play trick?” Blake joked.

  Dad snorted out a laugh. “No way. My wife here is a ringer. She mopped the floor with all of us.”

  “Mrs. Williams, the pool shark.” Blake high-fived my mom to her utter delight.

  “But please don’t call me Mrs. Williams. It makes me feel old. Call me Chris.”

  Blake nodded then turned to my dad.

  “You can still call me Mr. Williams.”

  For one millisecond Blake’s face went ashen, and Dad laughed. “I’m kidding. Jamie is fine. But remember that terrified feeling for later whenever you think you’re about to make my daughter cry.”

  I covered my face with my hands. “Oh my God, Dad. You are the least funny person I know.”

  Blake drew me into his side. “I don’t plan on it, but I’ll remember. Don’t worry, sir.”

  “Sir? I like that. Sir.” He smiled down at my mom. “Why haven’t I demanded all of my daughter’s boyfriends call me ‘sir’?”

  “Missed opportunity.”

  “Totally.”

  We all laughed at my dad’s goofy grin and enjoyed the rest of dinner with easy conversation.

  After we’d eaten our fill, Blake pushed away from the table. “Excuse me for a second.”

  As soon he was out of earshot, Dad turned to me and tossed his napkin on his plate. “I like him, Pipes. I like him a lot.”

  Mom chimed in, too. “He’s so sweet and attentive. When anyone talks, he really listens. That’s a tough quality to find in someone. And the way he looks at you . . .” Her eyebrows rose as her words lingered in the air. “I can see why you love him,” she said, instantly lifting my thoughts from some vague formations to a sudden, urgent stop.

  “What? I don’t—” I stopped.

  Did I love Blake?

  Since we’d started dating, I hadn’t stopped to think about it. Sometimes it felt surreal, the way we were together, like we’d known each other our whole lives. We understood each other, found common ground, and respected one another. There was never an awkwardness or fear that this was one-sided.

  I knew the way he looked at me was reflected back at him from my eyes, the same way I knew deep down he felt about me the way I felt about him. I never second-guessed that. But before I could talk to my mom about any of this, get her opinion on it, Blake was back.

  He slid into his chair with an easy smile. “Anyone up for a beer at the Public? I’ve got a hankering for a Natural Red.”

  I palmed his face, pushing his lecherous smile away while my parents both agreed, with “I can’t wait to see the bar” and “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Let me just get the check,” my dad murmured, and Blake momentarily flicked his eyes away from mine.

  “I got it already. Don’t worry about it.”

  I was positive my parents offered smiles and words of gratitude, but I couldn’t have torn my gaze away from Blake even if I’d wanted to. His hazel eyes were more blue today, and he stared at me with such happiness and contentment I realized that if I could only look into one man’s eyes for the rest of my life, I wanted them to be his.

  The realization hit me like a physical blow. I loved Blake.

  CHAPTER 21

  Blake

  I woke up early Thursday morning because of Piper’s fidgeting at my side. Her constant writhing and wiggling to get comfortable were much less noticeable in my cozy king bed than in her tiny full, but they were no less annoying. Though I’d pretty much gotten used to snoring and crazy legs since we’d been staying at each other’s houses every night for the past few weeks.

  She had her own toothbrush and razor in my bathroom, and I had a couple pairs of clean underwear in one of her drawers.

  Practically domesticated.

  I threw my arm around her middle to settle her. “What are you doing?”

  “I got a text from my mom.” She fumbled with her phone.

  Her parents had spent two days in Minneapolis before they took off for Des Moines on Monday, and I had to say, I kind of wished they’d stayed longer. I loved hanging out with them. Her dad was a cool guy, a computer analyst with an outdoor obsession, and a semi-serious fatherly stare. I got to treat him to a round of golf the day before they left, which he really seemed to enjoy, and we got to talk about our mutual love for beer, the Apple Watch, and Piper. It was important for him to know I didn’t take my relationship with his daughter lightly. I wanted him to be aware that I was in this for the long haul, and that he should expect to see me around. When I told him those exact words, he shook my hand and smiled.

  Her mom, on the other hand, didn’t need so much convincing. I didn’t know why she had taken me under her wing like she had, but I hadn’t minded. She liked me, and even more, liked me and Piper together, so whatever it was she saw in me and us, I could only hope to keep it up. She’d told me countless times how happy we looked together, and she was right. We were happy.

  “What’d she say?” I asked Piper through a yawn.

  “They ran into a man who split with his former brewery. He was a silent partner and was bought out,” she said, reading from her phone. “They told him about me and gave him one of my beers they packed.”

  “That’s cool.” I tucked my head between her arm and rib cage, hoping she’d get the message and rub my back like she sometimes did in the mornings.

  “Apparently they talked a good game because he’s going to be e-mailing me later.”

  I sat up, the sheet falling to my waist, and grabbed my glasses from my nightstand, forgetting about the backrub. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe he’s looking to invest.” My heart jumped in my chest. This was the break she’d been waiting for. “That would be incredible,” I said with a kiss against her temple.

  She bit back a smile, her eyes bright with optimism. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  “But isn’t that what it sounds like?” I couldn’t help the enthusiasm punctuating my voice. After all this time, after all of her hard work, I hoped this was her big break.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.” She bit her bottom lip as her eyes lowered back to her phone. She reread the texts, and I could see the wheels in her head spinning. She needed a distraction.

  I propped my hands on either side of her hips and eased my way on top of her. When she didn’t put her cell phone down, I took it away, kissing her jaw.

  She whined, “I was in the middle of a text back to my mom.”

  “And I’m in the middle of trying to seduce you. No cell phones allowed.”

  She made a soft sound of protest, and I licked at her ear then down her throat, forcing her legs apart with mine. She stretched her neck, silently telling me to move my lips to the spot she liked best, while surreptitiously reaching for her phone. She slipped it out of my grip and lifted it in the air behind my back. I assumed to continue texting her mother.

  Sneaky move.

  I sat back on my heels, coming to terms with the fact that there’d be no morning delight for me.

  “Fine. Let’s get breakfast.” I had the morning off before I needed to be at the pub. “Come on,” I said, squeezing her big toe. “To the Original Pancake House we go.”

  For the first time since I’d known Piper, it had
taken her more than twenty minutes to get ready. All because she didn’t want to leave her cell phone for longer than a few seconds. I understood her anticipation, but her nervous energy had nowhere to go.

  She hopped around my bathroom, tying her hair up in a ponytail then letting it drop back down a whopping three times. Her legs bounced in the car while she held her phone between her hands as if it were going to run away at any moment. Even while we ate, she picked the phone up, put the phone down. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

  I tried to keep her mind off the incoming e-mail. I played tic-tac-toe on the napkins with her, told her stupid stories about me, Bear, and Connor, even passed on that dumb joke about the pirate who walks into a bar with a steering wheel in his pants and says, “It’s driving me nuts.” She’d smile or laugh on cue, but her eyes never strayed far from the screen.

  When we got back to her house, I couldn’t take it anymore. “You have to relax. I have three hours before I need to go into work, and we’re going to spend them Gilmore Girl-ing.”

  “Gilmore Girl-ing,” she repeated with a laugh. “You’re wonderful.”

  We sat together on the couch with her feet in my lap and her head on the other end of the sofa, and I streamed my Netflix account onto her television.

  Toward the end of the second season, it was clear to me Rory was going to dump Dean. “I don’t know why she’d pick Jess over Dean,” I said, pointing to the television. Dean was a bit of a doofus, but wanted the best for Rory. Jess was a douchebag. I shook my head. “Nice guys always finish last.”

  “You love this show,” Piper taunted. “Admit it, you love Gilmore Girls.”

  I waved her off. “I do not.”

  “Just like you never watched an episode of Sex and the City, right?” She poked me in the side with her foot, bringing up the memory of the day we first met.

  She climbed into my lap and swept my hair off my forehead. “You’re a nice guy.”

  “Yeah?” I wrapped my arms around her middle, bringing her flush against me, her legs on either side of my hips.

  “Yeah. You took me out for pancakes this morning”—she dragged her fingers down the back of my neck—“bought me chocolate peanut butter ice cream without me having to ask”—down my chest and stomach—“and changed your toilet paper to the kind I like instead of the brand you used to buy.” Reaching the hem of my T-shirt, she snuck her hands underneath the cotton to tease at my skin. “All really nice guy things.”