Page 8 of Temporarily in Love

“Dad, can you leave my food in the fridge? I’ll be back.”

Dad gave us a suspicious look. “Where are you two off to?”

Mom waved him away. “I told you! Gemma Jensen agreed to give me some marketing advice. We’re heading over to the brewery. We’ll be back in a few.”

Wait, oh no. Mom never said we were meeting this Gemma lady at the brewery. Why were we meeting her at the brewery? I hadn’t agreed to that.

“Wait. Why can’t she meet us here?” I asked.

Mom shook her head. “Because I like the food there!”

“Rude!” my dad teased.

“Love you, hon, but I’m sick of our food!” my mom called back and blew him a kiss.

When I was a kid, my parents being in love seemed gross, but now I thought it was sweet that they still loved each other after all these years. I wished I could have that.

Mom urged me along, and I reluctantly hopped off the barstool and followed her outside. The brewery was only a block down the street, so it wasn’t a far walk. I hadn’t stepped foot in the brewery, ever, so I felt like my mom did this on purpose.

She made comments every year about how Declan was such a nice young man, and some woman would snap him up soon. Her way of telling me we should get back together. But I broke his heart when I went away to Stanford. Especially since I never told him I was applying.

I was all set to go to Penn State with him, but my guidance counselor encouraged me to apply to my dream school. I never thought I’d get accepted. It had been a great opportunity that I couldn’t turn down. But then I waited until the last possible second, never telling Declan I wasn’t going with him. I took the coward’s way out, breaking up with him and leaving the very next day. I didn’t call, and I barely came home. If I had, I wouldn’t have finished my degree. I would have stayed in this tiny little town and never made a career for myself. Even if I wasn’t particularly happy with that career anymore.

“So you broke it off with Chad?” Mom asked as we walked down the street together.

“You heard me tell Dad?”

She nodded. “Also, you’re not wearing your ring, and you moved your Claddagh ring back to your right hand.”

Of course she noticed that.

“Why did you quit too?”

“I couldn’t work for his company anymore.”

She frowned as we waited at the crosswalk for the little green man on the signal to light up. My Mom turned her hazel eyes on me. “Sweetheart, tell the truth.”

I sighed. “I’m not sure I want to work in tech anymore. Everyone’s full of shit and thinks they’re god’s gift to the world. The money’s good, like really good, but I’m unhappy.”

“Maybe you could be a lawyer close to home,” Mom suggested.

I didn’t argue with her because she sped off across the street, and I followed behind her. Yeah, I saw that one coming. Mom hated that I was so far away from the rest of the family. Even our extended family still lived in or around the Philly area. I was the weird cousin who went off far away for college.

We walked past the tattoo shop where my friend Lizzie worked, and then we were at the door of the brewery. Kelsey said there was a brewery here before the MacGregors, but the place had been an old Rolls Royce showroom when we were kids. Mom held open the heavy door, and we walked inside together.

The Rolls Royce thing made sense once I stepped inside. The interior was open with high ceilings, and I spied an upstairs area that looked like a loft. The bar was towards the back of the room, with a bunch of tables and chairs set up in the front. On the right, glass windows showed the tanks where Nolan and an older Black man were having an intense conversation. Artwork that matched the style of the beer labels hung on the walls, and there was a big sign behind the bar with the brewery’s logo above it.

The part of my heart that still loved Declan swelled with pride at what he and his brother had created. I tried to tamp that feeling down. I had no right to be proud of him. Not after what I did.

“I love what they did with the place,” Mom said.

It was a cool space, but I didn’t have time to say anything because the pink-haired woman my sister had been talking to at the Arts Fest came over to us.

My mom smiled at her. “Hey, Gemma. Thanks for meeting with us.”

Gemma gestured to a table in front of us and we took our seats. One of the bartenders came over to take our order. He had dark hair and an eyebrow piercing. Like Gemma, he had a bunch of tattoos. Only both of his arms were covered, whereas Gemma only had one arm fully tattooed. He looked at Gemma like he wanted to make a meal out of her.

I only ordered water since I had already eaten, and I refused to give the MacGregors the satisfaction that I liked their beer.