Trouble Brewing

by Suzanne Baltsar

  “I’ve worked too hard for too long to let some guy take the credit. My company’s barely off the ground, but finding out I didn’t even make it this far on my own was a punch in the gut. And Blake was the one to deliver it.”

  Fresh tears sprang into my eyes, but I shook them away before they could fall, determined to focus on my anger instead of the hurt. “And then he told me he loved me, like that was going to make it all better.”

  Hearing those three words didn’t make it better. It made everything infinitely worse. Because I couldn’t hate him if he loved me.

  Sonja grabbed my shoulders. “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. He told you that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He actually said ‘I love you’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Nothing. We were screaming at each other. What could I say?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe ‘I love you, too’?”

  I waved her off. “No. No, I’m not going to tell him that.”

  “But it’s true,” she said, and God, I’d never hated my best friend more than in that moment.

  “Can we take a step back for a second?” she asked, kicking the covers off her legs. “There is nothing I respect more than your drive. You have this independent, go-it-alone streak in you a mile wide. If I actually used the psychology degree I have, I might suggest it’s because you’re a middle child, but that’s neither here nor there.”

  I took a swipe at her, but she bobbed out of the way with a grin.

  “You want to run this company your own way, and I get it. We all get it, but sometimes you need a little help. I honestly don’t think Blake went to those bars to do your work for you. He went to help you because he believes in you, like we all do. What does it matter who spoke to the owners, whether it was you, Blake, or the guy at the distributor? You’re all working for the same outcome, yeah?”

  I nodded.

  “Blake has been behind you since day one, even if it was in a way you don’t like. I don’t think you should punish him for that.”

  I grabbed the pillow from behind my head and threw it at her. “Ugh. Stop making sense.”

  Sonja folded the pillow in her arms, offering me a sad, understanding smile. “Why? Because knowing you want to be with Blake will make the decision to move to Iowa harder than you want it to be?”

  I stared at my friend, hating her more now than a minute ago. I covered my face with my hands, my shoulders shaking as my built-up tears took over. Sonja pulled me to her, letting me cry into her neck. I got a few words out in between sobs. “I don’t want to miss an opportunity because I’m afraid to leave a boy.”

  She shushed me. “I know. I know.”

  “I’m afraid to leave Blake. I’ve never felt like that before.”

  I felt Sonja nod, but she didn’t say anything as I cried out all of my frustration, trepidation, and loss. I broke up with Blake because I couldn’t handle making this decision, and if I didn’t have one to make, there would only be one answer.

  Yet this didn’t feel any easier. This was infinitely worse. Like I’d lost a part of me last night.

  I lifted my head and wiped my face. “Don’t I owe it to myself to go to Iowa?”

  Sonja’s brown eyes were smudged with tears. “I don’t know, Pipes. No one can tell you what to do. You want to be the one to make all the decisions? That includes the tough ones, too.”

  She was right. I had to make this decision on my own.

  I crawled out from under the covers. Sonja raised her brows at the dress I was still wearing from last night.

  “At least you looked cute.” She stood up and hugged me before leaving the room, humming “Pocketful of Sunshine” under her breath.

  I turned to the mirror and took stock of my appearance. I hadn’t washed off my makeup last night, and it had smeared down my face. My cheeks and nose were red from crying, lips and eyes puffy. I felt like I’d slept for a thousand years, but could lie right down and sleep for another couple hundred. My limbs were heavy, and my heart beat erratically in my chest.

  As much clarity as I had after talking with Sonja, there was still so much left I had to figure out. Namely, what was I going to do?

  I opened my laptop and pulled up my e-mail. I owed this to myself. At the very least, I had to try.

  CHAPTER 27

  Piper

  I followed the trail of the Principal Riverwalk, listening to Bob point out different things around us. The deep timbre of his voice enveloped me with warmth, mingling with the heat of this Des Moines weather.

  “Is it always this hot?” I asked, tying my hair up in a ponytail.

  He laughed. “Beautiful, huh?”

  My phone told me it was ninety-three degrees, and we’d been walking around downtown for more than an hour. I wasn’t used to such high heat and humidity. Or all this walking.

  “And how about this?” Bob asked, extending his hand toward the bridge in front of us. “Gorgeous.”

  I held my hand up to shield my eyes since I’d lost my sunglasses somewhere in my hotel room. It was about 250 miles from Minneapolis to Des Moines, and I hadn’t planned enough drive time, especially since I had to stop about an hour into the drive because I’d chugged a venti iced coffee before I left. Bob and I had planned on meeting outside my hotel at five, but since I was running late, I’d tossed my overnight bag on the floor for a quick change, leaving a variety of my things—including my sunglasses—lying there as I closed the door behind me.

  “Mmhmm.” I reclined my head to follow the arch all the way up. I didn’t think bridges could be gorgeous, but he seemed into it and I didn’t want to be rude to my host.

  “It’s the Iowa Women of Achievement Bridge,” he said, leading me toward the middle of said bridge, where we paused to look at the little waterfall beneath us. “This is a popular tourist spot. You know, with all the art and everything.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction we had just come from, where we had passed a modern art statue. “Imagine being able to walk by this every day.”

  I looked around me. Parents holding hands with their little kids. A couple of teenagers on skateboards in the distance. An older couple a few feet away, kissing sweetly. The sounds of the river below us and the color of the open sky above was . . . “Pretty awesome.”

  Iowa wasn’t what I’d thought it would be like. Or, at least, Des Moines wasn’t. It was hip and growing, changing economically and culturally. Well, that’s how Google had put it.

  “So, now that I’ve given you the royal walking tour, can I buy you dinner?” Bob’s smile was contagious. He was a congenial guy with a tan and a rounded belly that told me he enjoyed living his life.

  “Sure.”

  “I’ve probably talked your ear off. Eating and drinking are the only ways to shut me up.”

  I laughed. “I don’t mind.”

  On the walk back to his car, I began to try to visualize myself living here in this “big small town,” as Bob called it. I’d assumed Iowa was all cornstalks and waving wheat, which it could be, but Des Moines was nothing like that. It was full of life and color, with huge graffiti murals and an art society club. The more Bob told me about the city, the less I needed to be convinced I’d like living here.

  He had just about finished his spiel about the cost of living when he parked at a meter along a street. “This part of the city is known as the East Village. I wanted to bring you to it because a lot of new restaurants and bars are cropping up here. Two breweries opened last year. And you need to see your future competition.”

  I liked that Bob had so much confidence in me. And even though I knew he was playing it up to sell me on this place, it felt good to be chased as opposed to me always doing the chasing.

  He led me down a few blocks, and I peered into the window fronts of stores, a mixture of furniture places, art galleries, cafés, and chic clothing stores. If I was going to be honest with myself, this was the perfect city t
o open a craft brewery. My excitement took me by surprise.

  Over dinner, Bob actually asked me about myself. He wanted to know about my family and what kinds of things I enjoyed. Of course, he always brought it back to Des Moines and how my sisters would love to visit. He already knew my parents loved it since he had met them here. He told me about the music festivals and the art house cinema that played old black-and-white films all the time.

  “It all seems terrific,” I said. “Yet, I have to tell you it was a difficult decision to come down here to meet you. Not that I didn’t want to, but it’s hard to think about moving away from what I know.”

  “But you’ve done it before. I mean, you lived in Germany. I don’t think moving here is anywhere near as hard as moving to Europe.”

  “You’re right,” I said with a smile, but I put my elbows on the table so I could cover the way my mouth involuntarily dipped down. It wasn’t what I’d be leaving. It was who I’d be leaving.

  But maybe this was what I needed. A fresh start.

  I cleared my throat. “So, when do I get to see your space?”

  “You mean our space.”

  I winked at him. “You run a good game, Bob, I’ll give you that.”

  “I was thinking tomorrow, after you’ve gotten the feel of the area and I’ve convinced you why you should want to move here.”

  “You’re doing a pretty good job so far.”

  He nodded. “How’s about we go for a drink?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Two hours later, I was back in my hotel room. After being thoroughly wined and dined, I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was easy to pretend I was here on vacation and not to make a major life decision, but now that I was alone, the gravity of this situation hit me full force. I was either going to move to Iowa and start all over again with a business partner, or I was going stay in Minnesota and continue to go at it alone.

  I reached for my phone, which was burrowed deep in my purse, and turned it on after having had it off all day so I could be fully present with Bob. Multiple notifications rang out as it came to life. There were a few texts from my mom checking in, a couple of emoji-laden messages from Sonja, and one voicemail from Blake, which I refused to listen to.

  With the hurt and confusion already clouding my thoughts, I feared hearing his voice would send me reeling either back to him or far away from him. I wasn’t ready to do either.

  Instead I opened Twitter to find I had been mentioned again by BeerasaurusRex, this time in a veiled attempt at spreading a rumor.

  @BeerasurusRex had heard through the hopvine that a little start-up was starting up some romance in exchange for taps. His tweet concluded:

  Not cool, bro. Not cool.

  What was this, Gossip Girl? And who the hell was this guy? My first thought was Travis, but more likely he was just some guy who’d spoken with him. No matter, I hated them all.

  I slapped my phone down on the nightstand, more furious than ever. Maybe now was the perfect time to get out of Minneapolis.

  The next morning, I explored more of Des Moines by myself before meeting Bob at an older brick building in the market district. He was standing next to the firehouse sign out front.

  “So what do you think?” he asked, arms open wide.

  It was so stereotypical firehouse, I thought a Dalmatian was going to run out from the garage door. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t really my style. “It’s . . . nice.”

  The inside was narrow and still had the pole from the second floor in the middle of the place. I curled my arm around it. “Too bad this will have to go.”

  Bob’s brows squeezed together. “It will?”

  “I . . . just assumed.”

  He shook his head and explained his ideas for the layout, keeping “the integrity of the firehouse.” He wanted a bar in the front and a wall up in the back to separate the space into two rooms, and that’s when he began to lose me.

  “You want to wall off everything so the patrons can’t see what’s going on in the back?” When he nodded, I looked off to the area, picturing where I’d be working every day, with the actual craft piece of the brewery hidden. “What happens if someone wants to see the process?”

  “They can pay for a tour.”

  “Pay for a tour?”

  “Extra income,” he said, clearly having everything already figured out. “When they come in, they’re coming to a bar. But they can pay for the extra experience of the tour. They’d get a free drink at the end, but I think it adds a little mystique to the place rather than having it all hanging out. Besides, who wants to see all that all the time anyway?”

  “Me,” I said with a huff.

  He laughed, but I wasn’t kidding. Craft brewing was all about the process. And for the first time since I’d arrived yesterday, I began to think Bob and I weren’t on the same page.

  After walking the perimeter of the building, Bob brought me back to the front. “Now that you’ve seen everything, I wanted to hear your thoughts about the name Firehouse Brew.”

  I froze. This was new to me. “I had no idea you wanted to change the name.”

  “Well, we’re going to be partners, open up a new LLC. I think it’s only appropriate to start from scratch.”

  I tugged at the end of my braid, gnawing on the inside of my cheek.

  “You don’t like that name? We can come up with something else.”

  “It’s just that I’ve been working on my brand for a long time. My recipes, the name . . .”

  “Right, but now we’ll have our own brand.”

  I inhaled, trying to pretend I didn’t mind everything he was saying to me.

  “I’ve got the permits and the crew ready to build us a brewery. All I need is a brewer.”

  I nodded.

  “You’ve just got to sign on the dotted line.”

  “You gave me a lot to think about. I’m going to think about it.”

  “Of course. Of course.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Take your time. But don’t take too long,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve got a business I want to get up and running.”

  I nodded and with a wave headed out the door. Off in the distance, sirens went off, and I couldn’t help but feel they were an omen.

  CHAPTER 28

  Blake

  Piper hadn’t texted me back. Not that I really expected her to after my drunken rambles. But she hadn’t returned my phone calls, either. I’d left her a voicemail every day since Sunday. Coherent messages. Pleading messages. Reasoning messages.

  I thought maybe she’d change her mind. We were in the heat of the moment, we’d both said things we didn’t mean, but if she hadn’t taken the time to get back to me by now, I had to assume it really was over.

  Although, if we were really and truly over, I wanted to end it face-to-face. Not with raised voices or while we were arguing. I wanted to look her in the eye and hear the words.

  I took my time getting ready, in no rush to get to where I was going. I hadn’t bothered to shave in days, and my scruff had started to fill in pretty well, but in the name of wasting time, I got my razor out. If I was going to lay my heart out on the line once and for all, I might as well look my best doing it.

  I put on a polo, gray shorts, and a pair of boat shoes. Piper’s favorite pretentious, preppy look she always pretended to hate. I didn’t bother calling ahead because I knew she wouldn’t pick up. It was probably for the better anyway. If she knew I was coming, she might leave.

  On one hand, I understood her avoidance, but on the other, I hated it. It wasn’t fair. I deserved more than a fight in a car. I deserved a proper good-bye from the girl I loved.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat as I dropped into the driver’s side seat. The radio automatically turned on, but I snapped it off, not wanting to remember Piper’s pitiful off-key singing next to me.

  My apartment was only a few miles from her house, but this trip seemed to take forever, and by the time I finally pulled up to
the curb in front, I’d practiced the speech I wanted to give seven times.

  With feet weighted like cement, I stepped onto the sidewalk. I had trouble lifting my attention up to the house and kept my gaze down, noticing things I never had before. The patch of dandelions in the middle of the small lawn. The uneven slope of the grainy concrete pavement. The dirt on the white railing that needed to be cleaned, as well as the windowsills.

  And just as the thought came into my head to rent a power-washer to do it, I remembered.

  Fixing things around this house wasn’t my job anymore. Doing favors or nice deeds just because I wanted to was out of the question. That was what a boyfriend did. Something I was not.

  I knocked on the door, and when no one answered, I rang the doorbell. A minute passed, so I walked around the side of the house, but the doors to the garage were all closed up. If she was working, she always kept them open, but to be sure, I opened the side door.

  The lights were off, and no Piper to be found.

  I checked the time on my phone. It was after three, and I had no idea where she could be, but I wasn’t leaving without seeing her. I made my way back to the front of the house and sat on the stoop. I texted Missy and Darren to tell them I didn’t know what time I’d be at work and settled in to wait.

  I spent the first hour playing on my phone.

  I spent the second pacing.

  The third, I sat in my car, charging my phone.

  And finally, during my fourth hour of godforsaken waiting, Sonja’s little Toyota pulled up behind me.

  “Blake?” She stepped out of her car. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here to see Piper, do you know where she is?”

  Sonja frowned and slowly closed the distance between us. She hesitantly raised her eyes to mine, her voice quiet like she was afraid to say it. “She’s in Iowa.”

  I didn’t know how long it took for a person to die once their heart stopped beating, but I didn’t feel connected to this world anymore after hearing that.