The brewery occupied a third of the new building. They had plans to lease out the additional space to cover some of the costs, and also bring a diversity of business down to the harbour.
“We just had a tenant back out on the third unit, so we’re pausing construction on the interior until we know what it will be used for. But other than that, we’re actually ahead of schedule. A pottery studio is going in next door, and they’ll be open for the May long weekend. We’re going to have a big block party.”
“Excellent.” And Josh meant it. It really was good news.
The ladies returned from the bathroom. Monica immediately looked at Josh and rolled her eyes, then gave him a flash of a private smile before hopping onto a bar stool and tapping the counter. “Okay, what are we trying?”
“That’s up to you. What kind of beer do you like?”
“Rosé,” said Bianca, at the same time as Monica cheerfully said, “Prosecco.”
Trent grinned. “Tough customers. All right, all right. Let’s start with our light lager, then. It’s bright, thirst-quenching, and has a really nice crisp note.”
They all liked that, so he followed it with a pale ale with citrusy profile, and then a grapefruit wheat beer that Josh didn’t like, but Monica loved, so he immediately imagined himself stocking the fridge with it. He’d learn to like it.
The last beer they tasted was a chocolate stout with “creamy mouthfeel,” which Trent said with a straight face and Monica immediately dissolved into laughter over.
Bianca blushed. “Darling,” she said reproachfully. “Please be polite to our hosts.”
“I can’t,” Monica said, tears streaming down her face. “He said creamy mouthfeel.”
Trent nodded sagely. “Lingers on the palate. Slightly sweet finish.”
Now Josh was laughing, too, which only sent Monica spinning further into body-shaking guffaws. She slid off her barstool and paced away, waving back at them. “I need a minute to compose myself,” she said between hiccuping laughs. “Go on, keep drinking the…”
Josh abandoned his drink with a good-natured smile in Bianca’s direction and followed Monica across the room.
She took a deep breath, then looked up at the ceiling. “Ah, that wasn’t nearly as funny as it felt, was it?”
“I’ve never known you to have the sense of humour of a thirteen-year-old boy, but it was funny enough.” He grinned. They were standing in front of the windows. “Hey, can I distract you with an idea?”
She took a quick, sobering breath. “Of course.”
He pointed at the back of the garage, currently a faded cream colour that didn’t match the rest of the whitewashed concrete blocks. When he painted the building, the back wall had been covered in ten feet of wild brush, but that had all been removed now. “I should get a mural painted back there, right? Something Instagrammable, for when people spill out of here—or if they are waiting to get in.”
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed, leaning to brush her shoulder against his arm. “Good idea.”
“Angel wings are over, right?”
She cringed. “Very.”
“What’s hot in murals right now?”
“Something about the town, maybe. Make it specific. Definitely have the garage name in there, too.” She squinted. “What about big letters that say, Meet Me At the Corner of Main and…”
“Old Whiskey Harbour Road,” he finished.
“Shut up, seriously? That’s perfect.” She bit her lower lip and squeezed her hands together. “I love it. I can draw something up for you if you want?”
“Yeah, if you—”
She twisted around. “Trent, do you have paper?”
* * *
While they finished drinkingthe chocolate stout, Monica sketched a mural for Josh, ignoring her mother’s curious and concerned gaze.
In the bathroom, she’d made herself clear: she was fine, she just needed another day or two to finish mending these bridges with Josh, and then she was going to get back to real life. Or a wedding, andthenreal life.
