"I can't fathom why you'd take the humble road now, but it's not true to say you have nothing new in store." I hit him with a stern frown before glancing to Annette and Jackson. "Since he's playing shy, I'll tell you about the distillery he's opening on the grounds of the cider house."
"Brooke," Jed murmured.
"You know the one, it's just north of the village," I continued, ignoring him. "And it's not just a distillery. There's a restaurant and a bar area to sample everything. Gin, vodka. All homemade."
"Brooke," he repeated.
"Oh, and it's all local. Farm to, you know, highball glass. There will be tours and something with bees and a space for parties and wedding receptions. Oh! That's where you can get married. Wouldn't that be perfect?" I asked them. "You can finally set a date."
"Brooke."
I shifted to face Jed and found him with his arms propped on the table, his fingers steepled in front of his lips. "What? What was wrong with that?"
"You're opening a distillery in Talbott's Cove," Jackson said, each word spoken as if he couldn't believe them. "I knew there was work underway on that site and I'd heard about zoning permits being approved, but I didn't realize people would be coming to town for the singular purpose of consuming alcohol."
Jed stared at me for a beat before saying, "Nothing was wrong. I hadn't intended to discuss all of this tonight. Some of it is public, but not all." He tipped his joined fingers toward Jackson. "True to form, the sheriff has seven thousand questions and he's already setting up his DUI checkpoints—"
"You're damn right I am," Jackson said.
"—but I hadn't expected that to be part of the dinner party festivities," he said. "Then again, I never know what the hell I'm getting into with you."
I heard my heartbeat in my ears, and once again a blush colored my skin. I searched for words to wield like the sharp side of a blade, but only dredged up more confusing emotions. Instead of figuring out these feelings and finding room for them, I wanted to pluck them from the air around me and stow them somewhere far away.
"It's strange that none of this was covered in the dinner party book I read." Annette sent a quiet laugh to her plate. Motioning to Jackson, she said, "You have to practice balancing work and life."
"Annie, you know I can't do that," he replied.
"Shush. It wasn't a question. These are our friends and this is my party and it's not time to get your sheriff on." She lifted her glass in Jed's direction. "Congratulations on this amazing project! I can't wait to hear more about the gin and the bees and the cider house. If we ever finish building this new home of ours, we'll be your first wedding."
"Don't start withif," Jackson remarked. "It'swhenwe finish building the house.When."
"It's going that well, huh?" Jed asked him.
Jackson's answering eye roll and groan said it all. "We thought it would be fun to build a house. We thought it would be better to have everything the way we wanted it rather than fitting ourselves into an existing home. We thought it would cost less than renovating. We knew nothing.Nothing."
"And you," Annette said, shooting Jackson a tolerant grin as she turned toward me. "You are just the most precious mess, aren't you? You can't even help it."
I flipped my hair over my shoulder. "If I have to be a mess, I'd rather be a precious one." While Jackson and Annette laughed, I glanced to Jed, mouthing,Sorry.
Jed reached under the table, curled his hand around my knee. "Don't sweat it, Bam."
I laughed. I sipped my wine. I moved pasta around my plate while the conversation turned to the usual suspects of sports, weather, small town politics, moose sightings. I worked hard at restricting my comments to neutral, widely available information. I wasn't worried about inciting another incident as much as I worried about another wave of emotions dragging me down, driving me to delirium.
That strategy worked well enough until Annette served thick wedges of chocolate cake slathered in chocolate buttercream and Jackson asked, "The three of you grew up together, right? There must be a lot of history."
There was no specific reason for that question to hit me like a tsunami, but it did. It took me to the ground and slapped me with reminders that my relationship with Jed was complicated and tangled up with Annette and my family and this town, and it wasn't as new as I wanted to believe.
Jackson was correct. We had a lot of history.
"Technically, yes, we grew up together," Annette replied, passing a gigantic piece of cake to Jackson. His brows arched up to his hairline as he accepted it. "We lived in the same town and went to the same schools, but we weren't in the same friend groups and we didn't really know each other until later."
Jackson waved a hand around the table, saying, "It's difficult to imagine a scenario where you're not as close as you are now."
"Imagine a scenario where we're the most immature, concentrated versions of our adult selves and that's high school for you," Jed replied. "Surprising absolutely no one, Annette was the model student and the teacher's pet, and she was friendly and outgoing enough that no one held any of it against her."
"She was the favorite. Sweet cheeks through and through," I added.
"JJ was a bit of a loner, but in an interesting, enigmatic way," Annette said. "I remember you going through a Kafka phase. I remember your jacket—"
