gently and spoke into my ear, trying to raise his voice above the folk music, laughter, and conversations. “Once they all get wasted, we can get something to eat.”
“Sounds great.” I watched a woman in a German dirndl push her way through a crowd of cheering men with a tray topped with plates of the largest pork chops I’d ever laid my eyes on. My mouth instantly watered. Forget the potato soup Grace had recommended. I needed to taste those pork chops.
“Do you know your mouth is open?” Dustin said as he led me to the table they had reserved in the back.
“Mine?” My eyes widening. “That’s not true.”
He cocked an eyebrow and pulled out a chair for me. “You were staring at Linda. Or was it what she was carrying?”
I laughed and sat down. “That food just looked so good.”
Dustin took a seat and so did the other men. They were already shouting out their orders. Except for Mitch, who was clearly still finding his place in the group. I could imagine it was difficult for him, since the others were much older than him. He had to be twenty, twenty-five at the most, with the biggest and bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and the looks of someone who should have been in Hollywood doing commercials or movies. Maybe he would one day. Dustin said he was only working on the ranch for a month.
“On second thought,” Dustin said, “would you prefer to eat first? We could get away from this crazy lot.” He slapped Sam on the back, a man who was opposite Mitch in age. I always wondered where he found the strength required to work on the land.
I shook my head. “No, let’s have a drink first.”
The boys cheered. “Our kind of girl,” one of them said. Mitch just stared at me, unsmiling. But he didn’t look unfriendly either.
The beer appeared quickly and the men poured it down their throats like water. Watching them drink reminded me of my mother for moment. I imagined her in a place like this, surrounded by men, drinking herself silly, letting them touch her, do things to her. But I pushed away the bad memories. People drank all the time and had fun. Not everyone ended up like my mother. I intended to enjoy myself too. With a soda.
In the end I had two Sprites and Dustin had mineral water, claiming he didn’t like to have a drop of alcohol in him when he was driving.
The guys asked me about my background. I hoped they were not the type to read tabloids. Although Jude had done his best to keep our life private, it still leaked sometimes, but only the glamorous part of it—not the parts that counted.
I didn’t tell them much, just that I grew up in Serendipity and attended the same school as Dustin. Dustin told them a bit about how we had dated. Mitch’s eyes finally lit up and he seemed to come alive with interest.
“You two make a bloody good-looking couple,” Sam slurred.
“Well, thank you.” Dustin looked at me. He didn’t elaborate that we were just friends now. And that I was actually married, even though I had no ring on my finger. Just the pale mark it had left behind.
“You really do,” Mitch said. He pulled out his phone and focused his attention on it for the next thirty minutes, looking up only when Linda and Anton’s teenage daughter, Rosemarie, appeared at the table with more beers.
After another half an hour, Dustin suggested we get some food. I accepted happily. The conversation at the table was no longer making sense as it was being drowned in alcohol, and my stomach was starting to groan louder.
Since it was too loud at Krug, we decided to go eat somewhere else.
“How do you do it?” I asked Dustin as we strolled comfortably side by side past a closed bridal store and a gambling joint, music and the clink of machines spilling out of the door. It was darker outside now and the small streets were starting to empty.
“Do what?” Dustin had his hands inside his jeans pockets. Was it to keep them from touching me?
“You make more money than anyone I know and yet you
“Sounds great.” I watched a woman in a German dirndl push her way through a crowd of cheering men with a tray topped with plates of the largest pork chops I’d ever laid my eyes on. My mouth instantly watered. Forget the potato soup Grace had recommended. I needed to taste those pork chops.
“Do you know your mouth is open?” Dustin said as he led me to the table they had reserved in the back.
“Mine?” My eyes widening. “That’s not true.”
He cocked an eyebrow and pulled out a chair for me. “You were staring at Linda. Or was it what she was carrying?”
I laughed and sat down. “That food just looked so good.”
Dustin took a seat and so did the other men. They were already shouting out their orders. Except for Mitch, who was clearly still finding his place in the group. I could imagine it was difficult for him, since the others were much older than him. He had to be twenty, twenty-five at the most, with the biggest and bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and the looks of someone who should have been in Hollywood doing commercials or movies. Maybe he would one day. Dustin said he was only working on the ranch for a month.
“On second thought,” Dustin said, “would you prefer to eat first? We could get away from this crazy lot.” He slapped Sam on the back, a man who was opposite Mitch in age. I always wondered where he found the strength required to work on the land.
I shook my head. “No, let’s have a drink first.”
The boys cheered. “Our kind of girl,” one of them said. Mitch just stared at me, unsmiling. But he didn’t look unfriendly either.
The beer appeared quickly and the men poured it down their throats like water. Watching them drink reminded me of my mother for moment. I imagined her in a place like this, surrounded by men, drinking herself silly, letting them touch her, do things to her. But I pushed away the bad memories. People drank all the time and had fun. Not everyone ended up like my mother. I intended to enjoy myself too. With a soda.
In the end I had two Sprites and Dustin had mineral water, claiming he didn’t like to have a drop of alcohol in him when he was driving.
The guys asked me about my background. I hoped they were not the type to read tabloids. Although Jude had done his best to keep our life private, it still leaked sometimes, but only the glamorous part of it—not the parts that counted.
I didn’t tell them much, just that I grew up in Serendipity and attended the same school as Dustin. Dustin told them a bit about how we had dated. Mitch’s eyes finally lit up and he seemed to come alive with interest.
“You two make a bloody good-looking couple,” Sam slurred.
“Well, thank you.” Dustin looked at me. He didn’t elaborate that we were just friends now. And that I was actually married, even though I had no ring on my finger. Just the pale mark it had left behind.
“You really do,” Mitch said. He pulled out his phone and focused his attention on it for the next thirty minutes, looking up only when Linda and Anton’s teenage daughter, Rosemarie, appeared at the table with more beers.
After another half an hour, Dustin suggested we get some food. I accepted happily. The conversation at the table was no longer making sense as it was being drowned in alcohol, and my stomach was starting to groan louder.
Since it was too loud at Krug, we decided to go eat somewhere else.
“How do you do it?” I asked Dustin as we strolled comfortably side by side past a closed bridal store and a gambling joint, music and the clink of machines spilling out of the door. It was darker outside now and the small streets were starting to empty.
“Do what?” Dustin had his hands inside his jeans pockets. Was it to keep them from touching me?
“You make more money than anyone I know and yet you
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