Bourbon Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,26

2014, Quinn Peak 2011, and Quinn Pine 2012?” Journey asks Melody. “We’ll need those for the tasting.” I guess Journey knows more about what’s going on here than Melody, or so it seems. I think Journey has helped out in the shop from time to time, living in town still. Melody has been gone for so long, I can understand why she wouldn’t be knowledgeable about what’s going on in here.

The sample glasses are in the sliding cabinet beneath the register,” I add in.

Melody seems frazzled, spinning around in search of the bottles Journey just spat off. “I’ll be right back,” Journey says, disappearing into the back room, leaving Melody and me alone once again.

Melody slaps her hands over her face and exhales loudly. I feel bad, seeing how frustrated she obviously is. No more games. It isn’t the time. I walk over to a nearby shelf where I can grab one of the bottles for the tasting.

“I remember you, Melody,” I say.

“Yeah, from all the way back to yesterday. Good memory,” she says, snapping at me. Maybe I deserve that comment. I wasn’t trying to play her for a fool or pretend I forgot her. I can’t read whatever is going through her mind and I was being cautious. Too cautious.

“No, I remember you from when we were kids, all the shop holiday parties, and the last big bash we were both at all those years ago.” It was the party where one kiss would unknowingly dictate all future kisses for comparison. I didn’t just forget. I never forgot, or stopped thinking about it, or her.

“You do?” she asks, sounding shocked by my statement. She must take me to be quite an asshole for thinking I’d forget about that night. I’m not sure what I did to give her such an impression.

I remember many details, all of them, in fact, from those few minutes we spent together. “Yeah, didn’t you try bourbon for the first time?” It was the reason for her sudden confidence to approach me after walking past me without so much as a glance for years. I’m not big on bravery found through inebriation, but I would rather have known she didn’t hate me as opposed to having feelings for me but not having the courage to say so. I’m grateful to have known the truth. I just wasn’t so grateful about the timing.

“That’s what you remember?” she replies.

I give her a quick wink. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to rehash.”

Seemingly flustered, Melody walks away from the conversation toward the back of the shop to set up the taste testing. Everything I say to her feels like the wrong thing. What else should I talk about? It’s been ten years and now we’re working together while her Dad is losing a battle with his life. Nothing feels like the appropriate thing to converse about, so I’ll continue cleaning up the bottles on the shelves while she handles the sampling. Maybe less is better for her. I can keep quiet.

However, she is the one who sent me the friend request last night. She’s confusing the hell out of me, and I’m pretty sure I’m making things a lot worse for her.

My spinning thoughts take up much of the next hour until Journey flies out from the back room. I forgot she was still here. “We have to go,” she shouts over to Melody.

“What’s going on?” I ask, realizing it’s probably none of my business, but with the frenzied look on Journey’s face, I can’t help but question.

“Dad collapsed. Mom just called. The ambulance took him to the hospital,” Journey tells Melody. Shock fills Melody’s eyes, her face bleeds of all color and she wraps her arms around her waist as if she’s in pain.

“Don’t worry about the Barrel House, I have everything under control here,” I say.

Without blinking, Melody unties the apron she has around her waist for hosting the tasting and places it on the bar stool behind the small table.

Journey hands over her coat and wraps her arm around Melody’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Thanks, Brett. We’ll keep you updated,” Journey says on the way out. Once they’re both out of sight, I feel like I’m the one who’s seen a ghost.

The silent panic, the frozen beat of a heart, shattering news that can’t be comprehended in the time needed. It’s all too familiar to me. I wish I could take the pain away. I wish no one would ever have to feel