“Yeah, he didn’t come around the bar and cart you off over his shoulder rekindling whatever hot mess you’ve decided to lay at his feet.” David had a point. I mused what an Andrew like that would be like. I would know what to do with that far better than this cold and distant one with his walls far too high to scale.
“I’m back David.” The words surprised even me coming from my mouth full of conviction.
“To stay?” I looked up at the bulkier version of Andrew’s genetic code. I sharp pang pierced my heart and I wondered what if… but pushed it back down as quickly. I had done plenty of self-harm in the past and needed to let go in order to move forward.
“I don’t honestly know.” But I did know, and David sensed it too.
“Get that look off your face.” He pointed at me. “I have a girl,” he said.
Well, that answered that question.
“You’re kind of the last mistake I’d ever make.” I taunted him over the rim of another tequila shot.
“Then don’t bring my brother down with you. I was just starting to get him back.” He stalked away leaving me shocked.
“David.” I pleaded, but he walked away clicking the remote on the radio jukeboxes that filled the bar. A familiar song played and made me smile. ELO’s Evil Woman filled the silence in my head. Good to know David developed a sense of humor over the years he likely spent hating me. Either that or a head injury finally knocked his funny side out.
“Cute David.” I called out as he waved me on. I slipped from the stool and made my way to the sidewalk. I didn’t have a vehicle here unless I counted my grandfather’s boat. He kept his 1990 Chevrolet Celebrity laid up at the house and if my Nona hadn’t sold it when he died chances were pretty good it was still there. For now, I’d walk the three blocks to the student hostel that still operated for hikers, and international students in town. In the morning, I’d figure out what I needed to tackle next. The prodigal wine heiress returned, but the prince had given up his kingdom for peasants and pints of beer.
4
Andy
A day I would never forget. The first time I saw firefly eyes…
“Damn it boys, what the hell am I going to say to your mother?” Our heads hung down in shame, but also because we couldn’t stop the grin from cutting across our faces. Dad was trying to hold it together, but failing miserably attempting to yell at us between chuckles.
Dad punished us for breaking the window during our touch football game in the backyard. Since neither of us had the money to pay for the window outright, he was making us haul the shipment of wine crates inside the bar. The two of us could get the job done quicker than Dad’s staff and the punishment wasn’t as bad as the alternative. Mom was more upset about the window than Dad. We saw him trying to hide his smile as he dragged us both to the garage where he proceeded to fake yell at us and then told us to act apologetic to mom the rest of the week while he came up with extra chores for us to do while we were grounded. David griped a bit because it meant missing out on football practice, but we were polar opposites in that David loved the game while I could take it or leave it. For me, it had become about spending time with friends goofing around and watching cheerleaders.
The bar was empty this time of day with just one guy sitting at the end of the bar nursing a whiskey neat in his rumpled suit and dark tie. The main waitress, Janice, who ran the appetizers and drinks from the bar to the few tables wiped down the old shinny tables and filled the salt and peppers for the week. It smelled like lemon cleaner and nips of spilled vodka and I loved how it permeated the wood of the floor and walls for as long as I could remember.
Easton’s had been in the family for decades. If we were counting, David and I were the third generation to earn our allowances here afterschool and on weekends. If you looked closely at some of the black and white photos that lined the wall behind the bar you would find baby pictures of David and me sitting on our grandfather and dad’s shoulders while our mom and grandmother held up wine glasses in a toast. It was nostalgia that had no price tag and love that ran deep in the genes. Someday this was going to be ours, but for now it felt like a prison carting these boxes of wine from the delivery truck into the cellar downstairs.
“Hey, who are you?” I looked up to find a pair of skinny tan legs standing in front of me as I picked up the box. My eyes followed the n
atural course of things and found defiant hands perched on boney hips that barely held up a pair of ratty blue denim shorts. Her t-shirt was knotted tight to the side and her face was sharp. Her barely filled out cheek bones and slightly sunken in eyes reminded me of toffee or caramel, and stared right back. Freckles dotted her skin and my fingers itched to touch them connecting what looked like thousands of stars against a pale morning sky.
“You know if you take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Her voice lilted sounding foreign and unexpected in a body so small and hair so shaggy. She looked ill groomed, my mother would say, and a little scrappy. Those arms crossed around her middle and she tapped her foot angrily. Her lips parted in a half smile showing her front teeth were slightly crooked giving her the perfect imperfection because it left me staring slack jawed until she cleared her throat reminding me how rude I was being.
I stepped forward extending my hand.
“I’m Andy. My dad owns the bar. Who are you?” She made a harrumphing sound and blew out air from her mouth that made her limp hair lift and fall back over her face. She ignored my hand and took a while to answer me. I wondered if she was mentally translating what she was going to say next.
“Sierra. My grandpa owns this wine.” Ah, that explained the mystery girl. I knew we were getting a new wine shipment and it looked like we got a free gift of a pain in the ass girl with it. I was glad I didn’t have a sister if this was how girls reacted.
“Do you go to school here?” Sierra looked close to my age and I wondered if I would see her in the halls when summer ended.
“Nope. My Nona homeschools me.” My chest deflated a bit at hearing this. I wouldn’t see her in school which was a shame. I would place bets that her exotic looks and funny little voice would make her the popular flavor of September while we waited for the leaves to falls and boys my age to calm their hormones down enough to ask girls to the homecoming dance.
“How come?” She followed me a bit as I carried the wine inside putting it near the door so David could take over and bring it downstairs where Dad was sorting the inventory.
“Oh, you know, my Nona thinks you regular kids are a bad influence on me and she’s a retired school teacher. I dunno.” Sierra shrugged her shoulders and I felt like there was way more to this skinny freckled girl.
I liked the mystery.
“Is that so?” I said.
“Actually, Nona thinks I don’t know enough English yet and she doesn’t like me taking a bus or my bicycle so far on my own.”