According to a quick glance in the mirror, embarrassing splotches of pink dot each of my cheeks and my nose is red. I am queen of the ugly criers. It looks even worse because all of me is pale. White blonde hair in my current standard ‘no fucks given today’ messy bun, pale eyes, fair skin, pale on pale on pale...with red splotches. Ugh.
Splashing water on my face helps, I feel almost human when I hear Charlene knocking tentatively on the bathroom door.
“Honeybunch? You okay in there?” Charlene has dropped her professional sales voice and I hear her southern roots creeping in as I open the door and give her a faint smile. Charlene had already been with Amelia for several years when I took over the store, she transitioned over and became my assistant. Kind of like a bull ‘assists’ a cowboy in a rodeo. She tilts her head in a practiced movement that allows me to avoid being spiked in the eye by her hair as she gathers me into a bosomy hug.
“I told you, Sugar, it’s too early for you to be out on the sales floor,” Charlene clicks her tongue, holding my shoulders and looking me over as she shakes her head sadly. “Sorry about bumpin’ you out of the way an’ all, but those ladies were plum pickins...I sold that girl the Halsey.” She nods her head as my eyes widen in appreciation, the Halsey was coated in vintage lace, very expensive...very.
“Yes, ma’am, that sale alone will take care of Christmas,” Charlene continues, examining her long red nails carefully before giving me a wide smile.
“Oh, well done Charlene! Bump me out of the way anytime if it means a sale like that.” Charlene preens at my words. Staring at the envelope still sitting in my desk tray, I feel my throat tighten. “I think you’re right...I should take a little more time. I don’t know what got into me out there,” I confess, feeling my eyes well up. I dash the tears away before they can trace a path all the way down my cheeks, Charlene follows my gaze, looking at the envelope for a beat before meeting my eyes again.
“You know what, Honey? There’s some man candy movin’ in next door that you need to go take a look at, get your mind off that two-timing jackass,” she giggles. Giggles?! “Hell if I was 20...well, ten, years younger? Yes ma’am I’d be walkin’ out the front door today.” Charlene pushes me playfully towards the door, then walks to the desk and picks up the envelope. I feel my throat closing again.
“Are these the papers he sent?” Charlene’s eyes narrow, she is definitely not Team Scott. I nod, not trusting my voice right now.
“They all signed and ready to go?”
I nod again.
“Then don’t you think another thing about it, you’re better off Honeybunch, you need to go find a real man.” Charlene’s voice drops to a dramatic growl on ‘real’ and I blurt out a laugh. She gives me a grin and then purses her lips, staring at me for a second.
“What?” I look down at my shirt, no coffee, then give an indignant squawk as Charlene walks over and expertly yanks the little elastic band out of my hair with one pull. She fluffs my hair and gives me another gentle nudge towards the door.
“How about you go meet the new neighbors, Honeybunch?” Charlene folds her arms under her chest and leans a hip against the counter. “I saw a tall, dark and dreamy over there that I wouldn’t kick out of bed, no ma’am I would not.”
2
Enrique
“Looks good out here, Boss,” Jake meets me at the doorway, wiping his hands on a rag. “After all our talking and planning...it looks good.” He grins at me, tossing the rag aside and moving over to talk to the guys setting the plumbing in place for the bar.
Jake and I have been friends for years, met in college and chose the same brewing program in Denver. When we agreed to start a brewery together, Edmundston was the first place that came to my mind. It’s a beautiful river town just north of Omaha. I grew up a couple hours east, but I used to spend every summer here with my grandma. Even met a girl here, once. That was a long time ago, I’m guessing she’s long gone by now, married, maybe some kids.
The three huge copper brewing kettles have been set in place and my crew is busy working around them to get the main brewing floor ready to roll. I’ve been in the test kitchen setting up the more delicate 20 gallon system most of the morning. The weather is perfect for working, the December air is cool and crisp, but the test kitchen is towards the back and it’s hot as blazes in there, I need a break.
Grabbing a jacket, I head outside to see how things are going. Two guys up on scaffolding are maneuvering vintage work lights into place along the front of the building. The lights will illuminate the sign that arrives later today to be hung over the front entrance. This place is buzzing with activity. Every project I planned got scheduled for this week, contractors anxious to get things off their calendars before Christmas.
I step out to the wide sidewalk in front of the building to get out of the way. There are trees planted about every thirty feet, alternating with the street lights all along Main Street. I lean on the one right in front of the brewery and just watch for a few minutes.
Movement to my right catches my eye. I look at the little bridal shop across the alley in time to see a blonde woman step out the front door, zipping her coat up to her chin to ward off the chill. She gives a cute little shiver and flips her hair back off her shoulder as she steps out from under the awning to the sidewalk. She turns my way, looking at the brewery, her eyes taking in all the action. She hasn’t seen me yet, I have a chance to just drink in the sight of her and drown in memories. As she moves closer, her blue eyes meet mine and she startles visibly.
“Ohmygod, sorry I didn’t see you…” she trails off, staring at me, full lips parted in surprise.
“Hello, Freya.” She hasn’t aged a day in the years since I last saw her, she’s beautiful enough to be on a runway somewhere. Tall, slender, her coat can’t hide the curves in all the right places.
“Ricky?” She whispers, absently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear in a move I’ve seen a hundred times and my heart squeezes.
“It’s been a long time since anyone called me Ricky,” I laugh softly, “I only ever let you and Grandma.” Freya blushes, little spots of pink appearing high on her cheeks. “I still like it,” I add quickly, my eyes searching her face, unable to believe that she’s here.
“You’re right,” her eyes narrow as she reaches up to tuck her hair again, but that registers second after I notice she’s not wearing a wedding ring. “It has been a long time,” Freya continues, voice suddenly angry. “A lifetime ago I called you Ricky and you told me we would always be together. We were stupid kids, playing at love. And then you left.” She whirls around, walking quickly up the alley away from me.
3
Freya
My heart is racing. I reach my car and just plant my hands on the hood and breathe. Ricky, Ricky, Ricky, I can hear his name in my heartbeat.
“Freya, wait!” I swipe at the tears I just now feel on my cheeks. This is just because my life is in shambles. Maybe my hormones are out of whack. When I feel his hand on my shoulder I jerk away, turning to face him angrily. He pauses, eyes searching my face and I shamelessly stare back.