One More Drink: New Year Bae-Solutions

by Wright, Elle

  “But it’s still your birthday,” Stacyee argued. “That’s a big deal.”

  “Not really.” I put my earrings back on. “Besides, I have to drive to Indianapolis in the morning. I’d like to not have to worry about my hair while I’m down there.”

  My mother had requested my presence at her anniversary dinner. It had been four years since she’d married Pastor Griffin and became Reverend First Lady of Abundant Faith Ministries. The occasion was a huge one for the church and sure to be an all-day event.

  “How long will you be gone?” Jordan asked.

  “A week.” Or two days. Or a day, depending on what happened while I was down there. Not that I didn’t enjoy spending time with my mother. It was just… well, there was only so much lecturing I could stomach, only so many questions about my decision to leave my teaching career behind and move to Wellspring. The curiosity surrounding the break-up with my ex was still a topic of conversation in my mother’s home, too. Even though, it’d been years and he was now married with a kid on the way. I just didn’t want to have to go over the reasons again. They never seemed to be good enough.

  More than likely, I’d have to hear all about how my childhood best friend, Miranda, had found her perfect mate, married, and was now a perfect mother of three. Or I’d be subjected to the scriptures on fornication and drinking to excess. And maybe even a little bit of allowing my spiritual gifts to “make room” for me.

  “You should have come to the party, Stacyee.” Jordan sat on the window seat.

  Brooklyn kicked her feet up on an ottoman. “Right. It was quite the event.”

  I sighed. “It was okay.”

  “I heard Laura’s ass showed up and threw her drink in Juke’s face,” Stacyee said.

  “Girl!” Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “That is not what happened. Not even close.”

  Jordan shook her head. “People stay making up shit.”

  Stacyee glanced at me, then at Brooklyn, then at Jordan, then back at me. “So…? What the hell happened?”

  “He kicked her ass out finally.” Brooklyn finished her bottle of water. “She had a mini-fit and broke some glasses. That’s it.”

  I thought about the scene at the bar. I knew all the gossip surrounding Juke and Laura, because people liked to talk. Part of me had always wanted to ask him about her, but I never had. And he’d never offered. So I’d left it alone. But after the party, I couldn’t stop wondering who she really was to him.

  Jordan giggled. “I was cracking up when Bryson had to help her off the floor when she tripped up the stairs.”

  “Damn, I missed that,” Brooklyn said.

  I hadn’t missed it. And I’d laughed as hard as Jordan. In fact, all of us had laughed at Laura’s expense for a good ten minutes.

  Stacyee grinned. “I wonder if someone caught the footage on their phone. I want to laugh, too.”

  We all burst out laughing until tears rolled down my face. “What’s her deal anyway?” I asked, wiping my cheeks with a tissue.

  “She used to be cool,” Brooklyn said. “But she changed after she landed a few acting gigs.”

  I had heard Laura was an actress, but I’d never seen her in anything. “What did she play in?” I asked.

  Stacyee frowned. “Play in? Chile, that girl was an extra in a scary movie a few years ago.”

  “And she died in the first five minutes.” Jordan chuckled. “The killer beheaded her. I don’t even think she had a speaking part.”

  “She didn’t,” Stacyee said. “But you’d think she was the star the way she flounced her ass around here like she was Jada Pinkett-Smith.”

  “She can’t act worth a dime,” Brooklyn added. “Trying to get Juke to feel sorry for her. She couldn’t even stay in character last night. Switched from broken-hearted to psycho bitch in two-point-two seconds.”

  Jordan slid on the floor. “I’m dead.”

  “Seriously,” Brooklyn continued, “if Juke hadn’t stopped me, I would have gladly kicked her ass.”

  “Your ass was too drunk to kick anything last night,” I said. “Carter had to carry you out of there.”

  “Damn, I missed Brooklyn getting drunk, too?” Stacyee asked.

  “She was outta there,” Jordan said.

  “Listen!” Brooklyn clapped her hands together. “I would’ve been sober enough to smack the shit out of her ass.”

  We talked a few more minutes about Laura and the rest of the party. I thought I was home free until Stacyee asked, “Veronica, did you at least get your midnight kiss?”

  “She got a kiss alright,” Brooklyn murmured. When I glared at her, she shrugged. “What?”

  “No comment.” I stood. “Let’s go eat.”

  Without another word, I made my way to the massive dining room. Scanning the area, I marveled at my family.

  To my right, Jordan’s grandparents were setting up the dessert table. Kennedi’s Aunt Anny was adjusting the table settings. On the far end of the room, Parker and Carter were on kid duty. Kennedi strolled into the room holding a punch bowl and Bryson was right behind her with bottles of wine.

  “Oops.” Brooklyn picked up the box of flatware sitting on the table. “I guess we should have been here sooner.”

  “I better help bring the food out.” Jordan rushed into the kitchen.

  Stacyee moved toward the table. “And I’ll just sit and get ready to eat.”

  “Veronica?” Bryson motioned to the table. “Sit. It’s still your birthday.”

  “I can help,” I told him.

  “Not today.” He winked and poured wine into a glass. “We got this.”

  In that moment, emotion threatened to spill over as tears filled my eyes.

  Before my father died, I could count my family on one hand. Now, I had brothers, sisters, sisters-in-love, a brother-in-love, nieces, nephews, and a host of friends who were more like family. The people around me didn’t judge me or make their problems my problems. They just loved me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I jumped, turning to find Juke standing next to me, a smile in his eyes. My gaze dropped to his lips. “Hi,” I breathed. “I’m okay. Just thinking about how different my life is.”

  He searched my eyes. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

  “It is.” I gave him my best I’m-not-really-crying smile. “I almost have everything I’ve ever wanted. And I feel extremely blessed.”

  One tear spilled from my eyes. Dammit, I’m crying.

  He brushed the tear from my cheek and ran his thumb over my chin. “I get it. Sometimes it’s overwhelming. All of this family, all of this love.”

  I tilted my head and studied him. His Granny had passed away several years ago. I knew from our many conversations that he didn’t have much family, other than a few cousins scattered across the country and a brother he didn’t talk to at all. Just like me.

  “Overwhelming in a good way?” I asked.

  Nodding, he agreed. “Exactly.”

  The concern in his gaze quickly morphed into something else. Heat. And I felt it all over me, from the crown of my sore head to the tips of my toes. Slowly, I exhaled to center myself, to prevent any unfortunate mishaps, like me trying to kiss him again and him… planting another forehead kiss on me.

  With his eyes on mine, hypnotizing me with their intensity, he leaned forward. “Ronnie, can we talk?”

  “Alone?” I blurted out loudly. I glanced around the room to see if anyone had caught that. When I noticed that no one was even paying attention to us, I turned back to him. “I mean… now?”

  “Ronnie?” His voice was a low rumble, a soft plea that pierced my heart.

  And my heart wasn’t the only thing affected by him. My body was buzzing with desire and need, something I hadn’t felt in… ever.

  “Please?” he whispered.

  That last word did me in. Because I wanted to go with him. I would go with him anywhere. Even though I still was low-key irritated with him for that non-kiss, even though I knew we probably
needed to have a conversation about it, even though I wanted to know more about Laura and that entire scene at the bar.

  “I—”

  The clang of silverware against a glass drew my attention away from Juke and toward the center of the room, where Bryson stood at the head of the table. He announced dinner and, soon, everyone took their seats. I glanced back at Juke and shrugged before I rounded the table to my chair.

  Dinner lasted longer than I thought it would because the entire time I was focused on Juke. While Grandpa Will said grace, my mind was stuck on Juke instead of the Lord. During the first course, I’d caught him staring at me as he poured gravy on his mashed potatoes. The fried chicken was slappin’, but I couldn’t concentrate on the goodness of my crispy, perfectly-seasoned wing because I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  Now, with pies being passed, cakes being sliced, and coffee being poured, I had no appetite for sweets. I just wanted to be alone with him.

  “Juke brought his famous winter cider,” Brooklyn announced as she carried out a pot from the kitchen. “It will go nicely with that pound cake Anny made.”

  Anny glanced at Juke. “Thanks for bringing it, Juke. I love your warm cider.” The older woman grinned. “I heard you got knocked upside the head with a bottle last night.”

  Kennedi choked. Patting her chest hard, she said, “Anny, where did you get that from?”

  Grandma Dee chimed in. “Wait a minute, someone told me Laura threw a plate of vegetables at you and splashed a pitcher of water in your face.”

  The room erupted in laughter. And I joined them, cracking up when Grandpa Will admitted that he’d heard Laura had slapped Juke’s hat off his head before she tipped over a table and tossed a bunch of napkins in the air.

  Everyone was laughing now, even Juke.

  Finally, Juke said, “I didn’t even have on a hat. There were no slaps, no hitting upside the head, and no drinks in my face.”

  Anny waved him off. “Oh, baby. You know how people like to talk. We’re not worried about no Laura.” She took a sip of her drink. “’Bout time you kicked that trifling heffa out.”

  “I’m glad you said it, Ann,” Grandma Dee agreed. “I never did like that girl. She always seemed fake.”

  Laughter filled the room again, then the conversation shifted to other stuff. After a while, Juke poured two glasses of cider, then he stood and motioned with his head for me to follow him.

  There were so many rooms in Bryson and Jordan’s house, but the sunroom was my favorite. When we entered the quiet space, I made a beeline for the sofa in front of the fireplace, my spot.

  Before I bought my condo, I’d spent a lot of time here and enjoyed the sanctuary they’d created. With stunning views of the Grand River, I loved to just sit and watch the beauty that was Wellspring. In the summer, I’d open all the windows and let the breeze flow through the room. In the winter, I’d turn on the fireplace and curl up with a book and a soft blanket. It was my little slice of Heaven on Earth.

  I’d always considered myself to be a city person. Actually, I hated the idea of small town living—until I met my siblings, until I visited this town. Now, I couldn’t imagine calling anywhere else home. The scenery and the community were a bonus, but the peace I’d always felt here had made my decision easy.

  Seconds later, Juke handed me a glass of the warm cider. “What’s on your mind?” He sat down next to me, shifting to face me. “Are you okay? You seem sad.”

  I shook my head. “I’m fine. Just thinking about everything.” Staring at the fire, I continued, “Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been different if I’d spent summers here, if I’d been able to come to one Memorial Day party or Juneteenth celebration. I think about what Christmas would have been like with my brothers and sister. Then, I think about how lonely I was at home.”

  In that moment, I was acutely aware of him. He didn’t speak, but I felt his eyes on me, his scent surrounding me, the heat of his body against mine.

  “I’ve heard all the stories about Senior.” I turned to him. “Everyone tells me I’m better off. But I can’t help but think it might have been worth the dance with the devil to have the joy of family, of siblings that I could’ve argued with or competed against or confided in.” Shrugging, I added, “Even if it was only once a year.”

  “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I was here with them. I’ve seen more than I ever wanted to. And trust me, you were better off. It wasn’t pretty.”

  “I know. My heart breaks for Bryson sometimes because I still see him struggle with things that Senior did to him. I ache for Parker when someone compares his business acumen to our father. And I cry for Brooklyn when she’s torn between mourning him and hating him for everything he’s done.”

  “Maybe that’s it, then,” he suggested. “Maybe what you’re feeling is empathy or simply wanting to take the pain away from them. Or maybe it’s that protective instinct that I have.”

  “I definitely feel that.”

  “That’s normal. When my granny was alive, I wanted to protect her from the cancer. I wanted to take the treatments for her. It’s hard to see someone you love hurting.”

  I reached out and rubbed his cheek. “It is.”

  Closing his eyes, he leaned into my hand. “Thanks,” he whispered. “Can I ask you a question?”

  The conversation had taken a heavy turn and I wasn’t sure what he’d ask me. But I nodded anyway. “As long as I can I ask you a question.”

  He chuckled. “Got it. Why do you hate your birthday?”

  “I don’t hate it. I just…” I sighed. “Okay, I hate it.” I let out a humorless laugh. “It never feels like mine. Nothing has ever felt like it belongs to only me. Growing up I didn’t celebrate because my mom didn’t believe in extravagant parties when other people were struggling to make ends meet. Even as an adult, it was all about everyone else’s resolutions or their families. And all I wanted was for someone to tell me I was their moon and their stars, that I mattered. I guess my birthday is just a reminder that I didn’t feel that growing up.”

  “You definitely matter, Ronnie,” he whispered. “To them and to me.”

  My heartbeat pounded loud in my ears as his words filled me with hope. “I believe that. I do. Honestly. Being here is everything. I love Wellspring. I’m sure I’ll get over the whole birthday melancholy one day. Next year, hopefully. Maybe I’ll even make a wish the next time someone buys me a cake.”

  “Pretend I’m holding your cake, then.” He held up his hands, like he had something in them.

  I eyed him skeptically. “What?”

  “We’re thinking happy thoughts right now. Keep up.”

  I sat up straight. “Okay, I’m good with that.”

  “If you could have that moment again, what would you wish for?”

  Peering up at the ceiling, I bit down on my bottom lip. So many things flashed through my mind. Beaches, mountain cabins, a new career, being in love, a family of my own. But I went with the safe choice. “I want to travel. I wish I could go to Alaska.”

  He raised a brow. “Alaska?

  Tipping my head up, I laughed. “Yes.” I met his waiting gaze again. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

  “Hm. Gotcha. I’m just surprised you didn’t say some place like Greece or Costa Rica. Some place with a beach and warm weather. I mean, if you want snow, we do live in Michigan.”

  I shoved him playfully. “Stop making fun of me. I do want to visit those places. Definitely. But I’d like to go to Anchorage.”

  “Why?”

  Shrugging, I said, “I don’t know. I just do. I’d also like to see the Northern Lights. Oh, and I want to visit some of the cultural attractions, ski, take a cruise on the Pacific. It sounds fun to me. Romantic.”

  “If you say so.” He held up his glass. “Well, let’s toast and agree. To cold ass Alaska.”

  Grinning, I touched my glass to his. “To Alaska.”

  I tasted the cider and moaned. “This is so good. Yo
u have a gift.”

  “It’s my granny’s recipe, with a few little tweaks.”

  I finished my drink and set the empty cup down on the table. “Yum. I’ll have to take some home with me. I love it!”

  “I’ll make you some. For your birthday.”

  “It’s almost over. Anyway, what about you? What would you wish for?”

  “It’s not my birthday,” he teased. “This is all about you, remember?”

  I pointed at him. “But you said I could ask you a question.”

  “Okay,” he conceded. “If I could have one wish…” His gaze fell to my mouth. Inching closer until his knee bumped mine, he murmured, “I’d want a do-over.”

  My eyes were laser focused on his lips. “A do-over?”

  “Yeah. A do-over.”

  Then, he kissed me. And, oh God, it might have been worth the wait. Because… Shit. He was good at this.

  A low groan pierced the air. It was me. I knew it because with every brush of his lips against mine, every stroke of his tongue against mine, I was coming undone. Almost like he was taking me apart inch by delicious inch.

  With our lips fused together, he pulled me onto his lap. “Juke,” I breathed.

  This man was turning me inside out, flipping everything I thought I knew about kissing on its head. And I never wanted to stop. I wanted to drench myself in Juke, spend the rest of my life exploring him.

  “Ronnie,” he murmured as he kissed a tender path along my jaw to my ear. “I want you.” He bit down on my ear lobe before sucking it into his mouth.

  Damn. He’s hot. Blazing hot. Literally. My temperature had skyrocketed in a matter of seconds. My lips were tingling, my heart was racing. My skin… My eyes popped open. Itching? Oh no. I bucked up and slid my ass right to the ground. Jumping up, I frantically, scratched my neck. Then, my arms. And my legs. Oh, and my stomach. I lifted up my shirt. Hives.

  Juke stood, concern in his brown eyes. “Ronnie, are you okay?”

  I blinked. Oh shit. Clapping a hand over my mouth. Please no. I prayed my lips wouldn’t swell up because I was having an allergic reaction to something. Was it him? Please don’t let me be allergic to him! I need an orgasm. Stat.