I plop down at the table and pick at the cotton placemat. "You’re not even making sense," I tell her.
"You don’t look as miserable as you have—as we all have—for the last few weeks. Something cheered you up, and it wasn’t the act of kicking Ace out of the house."
"I got out of the house for a few hours. I took a breath. It’s nothing to write home about," I say, watching as she loads the glasses into the dishwasher.
"I pissed you off before you left this morning. Did you forget?" Journey continues.
I almost forgot.It wasn’t on my mind at all after my few moments in the back room with Brett. "It’s your share of the business. You can do what you want."
"Hmm," she says. "Well, I’m selling my share to Mr. Pearson, which means you will run the business with their family. Is this something you will be okay with?"
I’m not sure how to respond. I didn’t think of the situation panning out in the way she’s stating. "I don’t know. I need to think about it, I guess."
"You know it’s not because I want our family business to close, right?"
"Yeah, I get it.” I pull a thread out of a weave of the placement, trying to hold back from saying anything I might regret.
Journey looks like she’s finding things to do around the kitchen to bide time before her next comment. I don’t know what’s left to say, but clearly, there’s something.
"I’m probably going to start sleeping at home again," she says.
"I figured the time was coming," I respond.
Journey drops the sponge she was wiping the counter down with and takes a seat across from me at the table. "I don’t want Dad’s business to come between us, honestly. I know we’ve always done our own thing, but we’re sisters, and I want us to be close, especially since you’re back home."
It seems like she’s been stirring over this all day, or for who knows for how long.
"Sharing the business with Brett’s family doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I don’t know a thing about bourbon anyway, but I’m willing to learn, and I want to keep it in our name. I can edit at night and work during the day."
Journey seems surprised to hear me agree to her plan. "And you’ll be okay with me not taking a major part in the workings of the shop? Of course, I’ll be there if you need help or something, but I don’t want to invest my life into it like Dad did. It’s not my thing."
"I’ll be okay either way," I tell her.
Journey tilts her head to the side as if she’s studying me in search of the truth. "I saw the remnants of a smile on your face. I noticed it after you said Brett’s name, though." I can feel her poking at me, like she knows. Sisterly intuition, we’ll call it.
I drop my head into my hands and sigh. "He kissed me."
Rather than a record scratch, Journey slaps her hands down on the counter. "Shut the front door ... no, he didn’t," she states, inquisitively.
"In the back room, right where he kissed me the first time," I continue, lifting my head to look up at her.
"Wow," she says. "I never thought the day would come."
"I didn’t either," I respond.
"He is a good guy," she says. "You could use a distraction, one in the form of muscles, a chiseled jaw, and pretty eyes."
I laugh at her description because Journey would never describe a man the way she just spoke of Brett. "He has a brother, you know …”
"Yeah, all set there. Does he even live in this state? I haven’t seen him since we were like twelve."
"Yeah, he lives around here somewhere," I tell her. "I’ve seen him. He came over for dinner when Elizabeth brought food a few weeks ago."
"Weird."
"Anyway, let’s um ... keep this to ourselves. I don’t want to fill Mom’s head with possible happily ever after dreams from one kiss."
"She could use the distraction too," Journey says.
