There’s never been a better sight than Kiki right here and right now. How could I ever leave this?
TWENTY-ONE
Kiki
Never trust your mother…
It’s been a very frantic week with Ellis and me. We’ve been trying new flavors of girly beer, as he likes to call it, and we finally came up with a wheat beer with strawberries that he thinks will knock the pink socks off women everywhere.
And I agree.
Today after work Ellis is bringing me along to hit a restaurant to see if they’ll want to carry his beer. I told him I didn’t feel right coming along, but he said he wanted to see me and spend time with me.
It’s sweet.
He picks me up, and we head off down the road to a little bar called Dune Dog Cafe. I’ve driven by the place a few times, but have never been inside. It’s always packed, and if Ellis can get them to carry his beer it would be huge for them.
We pull into the small parking area, and Ellis and I walk in together. This isn’t like we’re a couple having dinner, no this is business and I try to keep my demeanor serious so as not to ruin any chances with Ellis and the owner.
The owner greets us, and introduces himself as Dave. He’s very laid-back, and I relax a little. He pulls us off to a small table near the back and asks if we want a drink.
Ellis holds up the cooler he’s carrying and says, “I have plenty here.”
Dave laughs. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” He sits down. “Let’s try some of this beer you have.”
I scan the small bar, it’s very beachy, and all outdoors. Almost like you’re at one of the pavilions down by the shore. The breeze sweeps through the restaurant, making it the perfect setting for a nice meal.
Ellis opens the cooler, pulling out the first beer he’s brought along. The pale ale called Luau that I love so much. Ellis pops the top and hands it to Dave.
Dave takes a nice hefty gulp, and then sets the bottle down. “Damn, that’s really good and fruity.”
I smile, happy that he’s liking it. And I sit back, in awe of how Ellis sells to this man. The confidence. The sexy conviction he exudes.
“Now, try this one. I think you’ll appreciate the smoothness of it.” He pops open the Twist & Stout, handing it over to him, and then giving me a little wink.
Dave takes a longer drink this time, letting the full flavors of the hops explode in his mouth. “Ok. This one’s a winner. I have to have this one.”
Ellis laughs. “Ok, ok. Absolutely we can get this one for you. I can do three-fifty for a half barrel. Or if you order three I can drop that down to three-twenty.”
Dave nods. “I like that price. I’ll buy the one. I don’t sell that much stout.”
“I want to show you another beer we’ve been working on and then we can discuss prices for all the different types of beer we offer.” Ellis digs into his cooler, pulling out the pink bottle with the swirly designs. “Now this is a hefeweizen geared toward women with strawberry flavors.”
Dave holds the bottle in his hands, studying it before taking a sip. “Wow, that’s a good wheat beer.” He smiles. “This is a pretty damn good idea. I have tons of women who would drink this shit up.”
Ellis laughs, getting along with the owner of this small little wooden place so well. “Let’s go over some numbers.”
My phone dings in my pocket and I glance at the screen. “I’ll be right back, I just need to take this.” I excuse myself, and once I’m far enough away I answer Poppi’s call.
She just wants to tell me the accounting paperwork she misplaced last week has been found. I step outside of the Dune Dog Cafe and run smack dab into my mother.
I end the call with Poppi. “Mom, what are you doing here?” I give her a hug, nodding toward my Aunt Carol.
“We’re having dinner. You should join us,” my mother says.
“I’m so sorry to hear about Henry.” My aunt Carol squeezes me extra tight.
“It’s ok,” I peer over my shoulder at Ellis and Dave, “I’m fine.”
“Come sit with us,” my mother nods over my shoulder, “there’ll be three of us for dinner,” she tells the hostess.
“Mom, I uhh…” Shoot. Ellis and Dave are walking this way.
Dave smiles, like the good owner of a bar would. “Thank you for coming in,” he shakes my hand, patting the other hand on Ellis’ back, “dinner’s on me.”
Both my aunt’s and my mother’s mouths drop just a bit as they scan their eyes over Ellis and Dave.
“Thank you, Dave. We’ll talk soon.”
Dave waves and walks away, leaving me with my mother and my aunt and... Ellis.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Ellis says, shaking my mother’s hand and then my aunt’s. “I’m Ellis Atwood.”
“Do you work here?” my mother asks.
He laughs a little. “No. I own the Bearded Goat Brewery.”
“I love that beer,” Aunt Carol pipes in. “Will you be joining us too?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not.” I introduce Ellis and as soon as he hears it’s my mother he grins even harder.
This isn’t how I would normally bring a man home to meet my mother, but it works.
“I’ve always loved it here,” Aunt Carol says, pointing at the decor. “The colorful surfboards everywhere are so lively.”
“I know. That’s why I recommended we come here,” my mother says with a laugh. “Kiki, what were you doing here?”
We all sit down at a picnic table, and pick up the menus already waiting for us. Ellis pushes the cooler he’s carrying under his seat and smiles. “We were selling my beer, trying our best to become a vendor here.”
My mother raises a brow. “And you needed Kiki for that? I’m confused, Kiki, did you get a job at the brewery?”
“Well, Ms…”
“Call me, Lisa,” my mother says.
“...Lisa. Kiki and I are kind of …” he doesn’t finish his thought because we actually haven’t had ‘the talk’. You know the one, the what-exactly-are-we-doing-here talk. I mean we spend so much time together, and we’ve had loads of sex, and I swear I’m connecting to this man more than I’ve ever connected with anyone, but without the actual talk neither of us wants to assume anything.
“We’re kind of seeing each other, Mom,” I pipe in, helping Ellis out.
He smiles wide, throwing his arm around my shoulder, sending chills straight down my spine. “And Kiki has been instrumental in keeping my brewery afloat.”
He’s just talking me up here. I haven’t been instru-anything.
Both my mother’s and Aunt Carol’s eyebrows raise in unison. “Really? Is this true?”
“I haven’t been that instrumental. Ellis is just being nice.”
Ellis runs a finger over his bottom lip as he watches my mother and Aunt interrogate me about the brewery. Then, he grabs the cooler under his seat. “She was the mastermind behind this.” He produces two bottles of the pink beer.
My mother grabs it like it’s an alien head, and studies the bottle, and then sets it back down. “What is it?”