Roger arrived first and gave me a hug, lifting me up for a second. He shot Jordan a curious look. “Is he drinking wine? And why are there so many wine glasses there?”
“It’s only four,” I told him.
“Only?”
“We couldn’t decide on what kind of Riesling we wanted.”
“So you ordered four glasses?”
“Sure.”
The look he gave me was one of disbelief. “And why does Jordan have a glass?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Isn’t he something like eighteen or nineteen?”
Jordan overheard and met Roger’s pointed gaze. He quickly set the wine glass down. “I was just curious what it tasted like,” he hedged.
“Uh-huh.” Roger didn’t look convinced. “Drink your Vernor’s or whatever that is instead.”
Vanessa had stepped down from her bar stool to greet Ethan. He wrapped his arms tightly around her as he sank back onto a barstool. She leaned into him, her body nestled between his legs, her arms resting around his shoulders as he gave her a smoldering kiss.
Ethan is tall and wiry with a bit of a rockabilly vibe. His nearly black hair is almost always gelled back and eased into a small pompadour, which seems to somehow showcase his high, angular cheekbones. He was wearing a periwinkle blue dress shirt and slim black jeans for the occasion. His sleeves were rolled up to below the elbow, revealing heavily tattooed forearms, which – according to Vanessa – matched the rest of his arms, chest and back.
I suspected the display of affection was in part due to desire, but also Vanessa wanted Wyatt to know she was most definitely not available, since he tended to hit on her every chance he could.
Roger’s brother bears a resemblance to him, but Wyatt is a little slimmer in build and a touch shorter. His hair is a bit longer, and his eyes are hazel instead of pale icy blue.
“So, where is she?” Wyatt said, smiling as he clasped his hands together. His eyes were shiny and as he exhaled heavily, I caught a whiff of what I was certain was whiskey. “Roger here said you have a cousin who is in town for a few days and she’s single. He also told me she’s supposed to look like a model.”
“She is tall, leggy and blonde,” I agreed.
“I like the sound of that.”
Just then we heard raucous laughter. We all turned in the direction of the noise, and saw Tom, Mom, Aunt Lindy and Plenty entering the bar.
“The tall blonde … is that your cousin?” Wyatt asked, tilting his head in the quartet’s direction.
I nodded.
He squinted his eyes in their direction and shrugged. “Not bad. Frankly, Vanessa is still way hotter…”
“Hey!” Ethan piped up, his eyes flashing with anger. Vanessa put her hand on his chest to still his ire. A mysterious smile played across her features. I’d suspected that she liked it when he got riled up. I flexed my arm in a macho gesture, like I was ready to throw a punch, and her grin spread. Yes, she liked it when her man got territorial. She pushed her hip closer toward his crotch and gave him a playful bump. I saw his hand snake down and cup and squeeze her bottom. The looks they exchanged promised some frisky times later that night, I was certain of that.
We introduced everyone and Wyatt held onto Plenty’s hand for a beat longer than normal. She offered him a wide smile in return before opting to hang up her coat. As she slid out of the jacket she revealed a backless – and clearly braless – dress.
Vanessa gave me another look. “Where does she think she is? New York City?”
“She thinks she’s bringing some big city glam to us yokels,” I replied, adopting a folksy accent.
“She’s bringing herself a case of hypothermia is what she’s doing,” Roger said. “I can see her ribs and spine. That’s not appealing.”
“It’s not that bad,” I said. “She’s always been rail thin.”
“She’s probably one of those types who just picks at her food,” Roger predicted. “That’s annoying.”
“In that case, I’m going to order dessert,” I said. “They have a great carrot cake here.”
“I have no problem with that whatsoever,” Roger said. “So long as you share some with me.”
Wyatt had watched Plenty wriggle out of her coat, admiring the view as she craned this way and that to snap a few more selfies.
“She’s one of those chicks who’s addicted to her phone, huh? Well, she’s got a nice body, I’ll grant her that. But not only is Vanessa hotter than her, but so are you, Poppy. You might have some red-headed fire going on that could be interesting. How about Roger takes her out and I take you out instead?”
Roger gave his brother a strong punch in the bicep, causing Wyatt to yelp in protest.
“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said weakly, holding my fist up in a mock gesture of victory. “Second place, yay!”
Roger, in response, gave his brother another jab in the upper arm, though Wyatt ducked and missed most of the blow. “Poppy’s my first and only choice. She and I are together. Period.”
I smiled at the compliment. Vanessa gave me a quick thumbs-up in approval.
Wyatt shrugged. He turned to look at Plenty once again. “Eh. I’d hit that. She looks really good in that short skirt. I’d still rather see Vanessa or Poppy in that shirt though. I mean, if either of you were to do jumping jacks while not wearing a bra, that’d be a lot more entertaining.”
Ethan’s face contorted into an angry grimace as he lashed out and grabbed Wyatt by the collar, jerking him close and snarling into his face. “Don’t talk about Vanessa – or Poppy – that way. Your brother already warned you nicely. I’m not family, and I’m not as even tempered,” he warned.
“And if he asks you to step outside,” Roger cut in, “I’m going to let him kick your ass. I’ve seen Ethan boxing at the gym, and trust me, brother, he will.”
Wyatt stammered out an apology. “Sorry. I overstepped my bounds there.” He looked back in Plenty’s direction, who was loudly chattering away with a server. “She’s easy on the eyes. If she’d wash off some of that makeup and keep her mouth shut, she wouldn’t be that bad.”
“And that’s where the challenge lies,” I muttered under my breath.
Vanessa nudged me, inclining her head over to the large table we’d reserved that overlooked the park and locks. “Let’s get our seats. I really don’t want to sit by her.”
“Or Wyatt,” I muttered. “At least not until I’m wasted enough to take off my bra and jump on a trampoline or something.”
She laughed. “He’s got some nerve, doesn’t he?”
“I think he had a few drinks before he got here,” I told her.
“Yeah, I caught a whiff of something strong when he was talking.”
“I kind of hoped for a second that Ethan was going to pound him. Is that wrong?”
“If it is, we’ll be wrong together, because I was hoping he would, too.”
We started toward the table. I threw my purse on a chair by the window and Vanessa set hers down on the one next to mine. Roger and Ethan quickly caught on and both set their jackets on the chairs flanking ours.
Tom quickly grabbed the seat next to Roger, which was at the head of the table, happy to have someone to chat with, and pulled my mother to the chair next to him. Jordan saw the empty seat next to my mother and quickly took that. Plenty willingly took the spot across from Tom’s – after snapping a few more selfies of herself and Wyatt – and he in turn sat to Plenty’s left.
Aunt Lindy took the chair between Wyatt and Jordan. She rested her watery pale eyes on Jordan and set her hand on his forearm. “I think you and I are the only solo ones, my dear,” and gave him a saucy wink. He looked fearful for a moment, and she simply patted his arm. “I’m only teasing. You’re too old for me.” She chuckled at her own joke, which caused Jordan to relax and laugh in response.
The waiter came around and took our drink and appetizer orders. Wyatt seemed to be happily chatting away with Plenty.
“So, what do y
ou do, Plenty?” Wyatt asked. “I heard you’re a model.”
Plenty smiled. “Well, not so much anymore. I don’t really like the work. It’s too much travel and it’s exhausting with the long hours and the extreme conditions. Plus, right now blondes aren’t as popular as they used to be. If I were half black or half Chinese, I’d have much better chances.”
Vanessa mouthed an astounded “wow” at me. “Did she really just say that,” she whispered.
“Didn’t you tell me she mainly did an ad for a self-tanning business?” Roger asked, his voice low.
“Blondes are always in style,” Wyatt said, while giving Plenty a wink.
My mother nodded vigorously and gave me a pointed look. “See. You should go blonde again.”
“Again?” Roger asked. “Were you blonde before?”
“I had blonde hair as a child and it gradually grew darker. I bleached it a couple times in high school and college, too, but finally settled on red.”
“You looked fantastic as a blonde,” my mother pressed.
“I like having red hair. I feel like it’s me.”
“I like it, too,” Roger said. He brushed his hand against my cheek and wound a lock of my hair around his finger.
“Well, if he likes it, I guess it’s alright,” my mother conceded.
“Do you expect me to have my hair a certain way to serve as man bait?” I asked. I felt myself getting flushed, annoyance flaring up. My mother always voiced complaints about the red hair. For some reason, she never totally accepted it. Normally I didn’t mind, but tonight it grated.
“Hush, ladies,” Tom cut in. “No need for you two to fight over such matters in front of company.”
“Is being a model like it is on America’s Next Top Model?” Wyatt asked, switching subjects.
“It is a lot like that,” Plenty agreed. “I’d auditioned to get on the show, but they went for someone else.”
“I easily could see you on there,” Wyatt said, raising a glass to Plenty before finishing his drink. She in turn clinked her goblet with his and took a long sip of her wine. He topped her off and then refilled his glass, too.
“Then what are you doing if you’re not modeling anymore?” my mother asked.
“Oh, I’m focusing a lot on my YouTube channel and my Instagram,” Plenty explained.
“What’s YouTube? And what’s Instagram?” Tom asked.
“It’s that channel where all those cat videos are,” my mother replied. “Instagram is where they share photos and things.”
“There’s more on there than cats?”
“Apparently,” my mother murmured into her glass of wine.
“And this Instagram,” Tom continued, “It’s like some photo album? I thought people ran the other direction when you pulled out family photo albums.”
“It’s not necessarily family pictures there,” my mother said.
“Then what is it?” Tom turned to Vanessa and me, hoping for further explanation.
Vanessa dug out her phone and showed him some Instagram feeds.
“Huh.” Tom said. “People sure like to take a lot of photos of their food and what they buy, don’t they?”
“So, Plenty, do you do instructional videos or something?” I asked.
Plenty nodded. “I show people how to do makeup.”
I saw Roger cast a sideways glance at me and mutter under his breath while Plenty chattered away. “Who would want to look like that? Her face is darker than her neck. It’s like an eagle in reverse.” I bit back a smirk.
“So, Plenty,” Vanessa started. “What’s your most popular video?”
“It’s one where I show people how to do dramatic eyebrows.” She fanned her fingers up toward her arches, which were thicker and darker than they were some years back.
“Do you only do the videos?” Wyatt asked. “I’ll have to look some of them up.”
“My channel name is Plenty of Makeup Tools – no spaces between the words, and zeros where the O’s would be,” Plenty supplied. “I also work at Ulta as a, um, style consultant.”
“Well, that’s an interesting name,” I said.
“What’s a style consultant?” Tom asked.
“She’s a cashier at a store that sells makeup and shampoo,” my mother supplied.
“She does more than that, and the store offers much more than that,” Aunt Lindy chimed in. “Not that you would know of such places up here in the middle of nowhere. She does makeovers and suggests products to help people. Recommend something, Plenty.”
“Aunt Fiona, I would suggest a deep conditioning treatment for your hair, and an exfoliating treatment. You don’t want dry and flaky skin in the winter.” She turned her eyes to me. “And Poppy, I can recommend several things to tame your wild curls. I also brought some contouring kits so we can work on sculpting your face.”
“Contouring? Sculpting faces? Is this a thing or is it gibberish?” Tom asked.
“Poppy’s face is round, so contouring it will make it look more slender,” Plenty offered.
“Great,” my mother and I commented in unison, as we rolled our eyes at one another. She sipped more wine and motioned for Tom to refill her glass. I did the same with Roger.
I picked an olive off the appetizer tray and stuffed it in my mouth.
“You should watch how many of those you eat,” Plenty warned. “Olives have a lot of salt, so it’ll make you look more bloated.”
“Well, if my face balloons,” I grumbled as I chewed, “maybe I’ll float away from the table and out of range of these fat-faced insults.”
Dinner went along in that vein for the next hour. Plenty ordered baked chicken and picked at the food on her plate as she focused mostly on her wine. The rest of us ate with gusto. Since she offered to inflict her diet on me, I opted for something more decadent, sharing some of my prime rib entrée with Roger as he in turn fed me a couple forkfuls of his roasted pork loin.
“I see why she’s always been skinny,” Roger murmured to me.
Vanessa tittered at his comment. “She’s getting her calories in liquid form,” she whispered.
After finishing the main course, Roger and I ordered a huge slice of carrot cake to share, and happily polished it off with help from Vanessa and Ethan, and a lot of assistance from Tom.
Afterwards we retired to the bar to enjoy after-dinner drinks or decaf coffee. Tom and Roger opted for the latter, since they were regulars at Alcoholics Anonymous, and I simply didn’t feel like drinking anymore, so I ordered the same.
Jordan eagerly eyed everyone else’s shots of Bailey’s and bourbon, but Roger was all eyes.
I sensed that Roger approved that I wasn’t overdoing the drinking. At first I thought it had been a bit quaint to fuss about the underage wine sampling, but considering that his sister had died young in a crash at least in part fueled by alcohol, I couldn’t say I blamed him.
I loved the solid warmth of his arm when he draped it around me. Watching him make small talk with my friends and family, I felt he couldn’t get any sweeter and felt a warmth spread deep in my heart and bloom outwards.
Wyatt and Plenty were getting on very well, too. I had a feeling she’d go home with him if she had anything to say about it.
I excused myself to go to the bathroom. When I exited the stall, I found Plenty leaning against the wall.
“The other toilet is available,” I said.
“That’s not why I’m here,” she said. She was slightly unsteady on her feet. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the stilettos she wore. She plopped down on the sofa across from the vanity.
I waited.
“Is it true that Wyatt’s dad owns the lumber mill and that Wyatt works there?”
“Yes.”
“And Roger doesn’t work for his dad? He has his own shop?”
“Yes. He’s a mechanic.”
“Well, I guess that’s respectable and probably is good money,” she said as she fussed with an earring.
“Sure. It is respec
table,” I said. “But I am dating him because I really like him, and not for his income, whatever it may be. How’d you hear about the lumber mill?”
She waved my comment off. “Whatever. It sounds like I’ve got the good one. Plus, thirty means you’re past your prime. You need whoever will take you.”
I’d forgotten that she tended to be a mean, unfiltered drunk. I raised my eyebrows in irritation. “Excuse me? I’m just a couple years older than you. I’m hardly some old crone to your maiden.”
“I just wanted to know who had their foot in the door at the mill is all. Sounds like Wyatt’s the heir to the throne, so to speak.” With that she stood, making her way to the mirror as she fluffed her hair. She reapplied her lipstick and flounced out the door.
I followed her out a moment later, after I’d gathered myself.
When I returned to the lounge, Roger stood up and pulled my stool back out so I could have a seat.
“What’s wrong,” he asked. “You don’t look happy.”
I recapped what my cousin had told me in the bathroom. Roger simply waved it off.
“Aren’t you offended?” I asked. “One, she thinks you’re the lesser brother because you’re a mechanic, and two, she’s a money-grubber.”
“Wyatt doesn’t have much sway at the lumber mill. And if she knows about it, that means he told her, so he’s using it as currency with a girl who doesn’t know he’s low man on the totem pole. To be honest, I have more of a role there than he does because I help my dad make decisions and review the numbers.”
“Ooh, are you like a board member?” I teased. I looked him up and down, imagining him in a suit and tie. I could see him working that look quite well.
“Pretty much. Does that turn you on?” He smiled at me.
“That you are a responsible, good guy with a purpose in life who happens to be very handsome, that’s what turns me on. Though I bet you’d look dashing in a suit. I’m pleading the fifth on any further questioning along those lines – for the time being, I should add. Now, what about Wyatt’s role. Or lack thereof?”
Plenty of Trouble Page 10