11. Chapter 11

eleven

One Thursday evening in early August, Harper got dressed to visit the Take Flight Brewery with Deanna and Dashawn to claim her free beer. As always, she agonized over what to wear. Despite her best efforts, she still struggled with her childhood training.

At fifty-seven years old, she had never set foot in a brewery, so she had no idea what to expect. She'd never wanted to attend anything hinting of frat parties once she'd left them behind in college, where she felt they belonged. Before she dressed for the evening, she looked Take Flight up on the internet. From what she saw there it looked safe to dress up a little if she wanted to, but as she'd suspected, it didn't require silk or pearls. She decided to wear a pair of khaki-colored cropped linen pants topped with a loose black t-shirt and tan hiking sandals. Looking through her jewelry, she decided that a pink quartz necklace she'd picked up at the Great Green Grocer's would look nice, but casual.

Surveying herself in her bathroom mirror, she briefly wondered what Tim would have thought of her uncharacteristic foray into the world of beer drinkers. She didn't expect the evening to get wild, but she guessed there was always that chance. Olivia wouldn't approve, she suspected, but she didn't need to know about it, either. She hadn't mentioned her plans when she talked to Olivia the evening before.

Her image in the mirror looked adequate for the occasion. She didn't look young, and her outfit certainly didn't look sexy. But it all worked together, complementing her hair, which she decided to wear loose for a change. Since moving to Whippoorwill Gap, her hair looked as though it were highlighted by a demented color stylist, and the effect was more pronounced today. Maybe it was the mountain air. Her wild hair accentuated her already large round eyes, making them look even bigger. But as people in this town didn't seem to mind quirkiness, she expected to fit in fine.

When she met her neighbors out front, Deanna was wearing cropped jeans and a dark brown t-shirt reading "A Heavenly Start to Your Day: Divine Coffee," above a haloed coffee mug, with an ankle bracelet above her flipflops. Her big gold hoop earrings looked beautiful against her dark skin. Dashawn, imposing at over six feet tall with a football player's physique, was wearing a basic tee, jeans, and sneakers. He wore a single gold earring in his left ear and a trim pointed beard on his face. Harper privately thought he looked rakishly handsome enough to play a pirate in a feature film. He and Deanna made an attractive couple.

After Deanna introduced her husband and her friend, they made the five-minute hike up to the top of the hill, where they took a left onto Main Street, then walked past the Bric' a ‘Brac to the brewery. The temperature had climbed to a rare ninety degrees that day, but things were cooling off before they left.

Stepping inside the brewery's cool, brick-lined interior, Harper surveyed the room. It looked a bit like her own shop but twice as wide. The worn wooden floors appeared original to the building. A huge bird was painted above the bar. Dark chocolate colored metal tables and chairs were scattered about the space.

Once they claimed a table, Chase, dressed in a light blue t-shirt with the bird above the bar and Take Flight on its front, came over. "Hi, guys! The neighbors have arrived! What will you have, Harper? Remember, it's on the house."

Since Harper had never liked beer, she was pleased to see a mixed berry seltzer on the menu. She pointed to it. "I'll have that."

Dashawn rocked back in his seat. "Harper. Come on. These guys have the best beer in the South and you're gonna order a seltzer? Give them a chance to impress you! Tell me, what kinds of beers have you had that you really didn't like?"

Harper didn't need to think about it. "Keg parties." She shuddered. "It's been a long time, but I still get sick just thinking about the beer we drank at those nasty keg parties in college."

"Is that the only kind of beer you've ever had?" Chase asked.

"Yes. But it's all pretty much the same, isn't it?"

Everyone laughed. And Deanna shook her head. "No, Harper. That's not true at all. "

Chase fanned himself with a menu. "Tell me Harper, do you like chocolate, or maybe coffee?"

Harper looked at him suspiciously. "I like both, but chocolate-flavored beer sounds gross."

"What have you got to lose? It's on the house. If you don't like it, I'll bring you a seltzer as a consolation gift. How about that?"

"Well then, as you say, I guess I have nothing to lose." She briefly wondered if they were planning to have fun at her expense, but considering how relaxed and happy everyone seemed, she decided she was safe.

While Chase went to get their beers, the three neighbors talked under one of the slowly rotating ceiling fans about Harper's move into the apartment. They wanted to know how she liked it so far. Harper kept things light and upbeat. She didn't mention "F-Troop," as she'd come to think of her housemates. No point in getting into that. Not unless you want to be thought touched in the head! she remembered Earl Grey saying. No, that was the last thing she wanted.

Chase was back in a few minutes with three beers in varying hues. A light one for Dashawn, a brownish one for Deanna, and a black one for herself.

"What is this?" The color was so unlike any beer she'd ever tasted, she felt leery of trying it.

Chase smiled. "It's called porter. Just take a sip and tell me what you think." They all stopped and watched as Harper took a very small taste. "Hum." She took another. "That's not bad. I'll see what I can do."

Chase nodded, looking pleased. "I'll get Andrew to come by and say hi. If you don't like it, let him know and we'll bring over a seltzer."

A few minutes later, a tall bearded man, his blond hair pulled into a manbun, wearing khaki shorts and a t-shirt identical to Chase's, came over. He said hi to Deanna and Dashawn and then looked at Harper. "So this is our new neighbor. Nice to meet you. I'm Andrew."

Harper liked him immediately. His eyes signaled an expansive, friendly disposition. "Hi Andrew." She raised her glass. "I really like your porter."

He nodded. "It's an acquired taste for some, love at first sip for others. I'm glad you like it. I'd love to stay and chat, but we're shorthanded tonight. Stop in anytime! And thanks for the cookies and the gift cards! Once your shop opens, we'll pay you a visit!" And with that, he was gone.

Deanna shook her head. "Those guys are great. I love them both. But they work so hard—I don't know how they do it."

Harper tapped her foot in time to the background music. The playlist contained a mix of music she loved but hadn't heard in years, including songs by The Band, Elton John, INXS, and some grunge numbers from the nineties. It made her feel young again. If she'd picked the songs herself, she couldn't have done a better job. Every now and then, a song was thrown in that she had pretended not to like—but really did—when Olivia took control of the music choices when she was in high school. She recognized one by The Offspring.

Harper's sips of the porter grew progressively larger as she drank. The walk to the brewery through the August heat had made her thirsty, and this beer was truly delicious. After a while she smiled expansively at her table mates. "This stuff is great! Where has it been all my life?" They both laughed.

Harper caught sight of Walt at the bar, watching her, his hair sticking out erratically around his head. He nodded to her and raised his glass. Harper smiled broadly and raised hers in return. When he turned back to the bar, she asked, "So, what's the deal with Walt?"

"Huh?" Dashawn looked around. "You mean Walt, at the bar?"

Harper tapped her fingers in time to the music on the tabletop. "Yep. What's his story?"

"Well, he's interesting. My understanding is, he's lived here all his life. We moved here around twenty-five years ago, right Sweetness?" He placed his hand over Deanna's. She nodded. "When we first moved here, Walt was making money doing odd jobs. I'd hire him sometimes when I needed an ace carpenter. He doesn't live in town. I'm not sure where he lives, but he's in town a lot. That guy's quiet. I've met lots of reserved people—I think you're another one—but he stands out. And another thing about him is, he never seems to age. He looks about the same as he did when we moved here. He quit doing odd jobs about fifteen years ago. I don't know how he makes his money now."

Deanna nodded. "Walt's a good guy. But, like Dashawn says, he doesn't talk much." She looked at Harper and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "Why, Harper? Are you interested in our Walt?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"What? No!" Then Harper watched in horror as Walt got up from the bar with a light-colored, but cloudy beer in his hand and headed toward their table. "I was just curious, that's all."

Dashawn and Deanna welcomed Walt as an old friend. Harper breathed in the fresh air scent that he brought with him, like clothes dried on a line outside. Maybe she should ask him what detergent he used. She stifled a giggle at the thought as Dashawn said, "Walt, have a seat, my man. I'm heading over to get another beer. Either of you ladies want another? Harper, you sure did make short work of that porter." Harper hadn't eaten dinner, planning to have a snack at the brewery, but now she didn't feel hungry. Pulling a ten-dollar bill from her purse, she handed it to him. "I want another one just like this." She touched the mirror in her purse briefly with her fingers before closing the bag. All at once, she felt a soaring sense of happiness.

Deanna polished off her ale. "Sure, ‘Shawn. But this time, get me a stout."

"Sure thing, Baby." He headed to the bar. While waiting for Dashawn to return, Harper, Deanna, and Walt talked about the Fourth of July celebration. Deanna had worked at the coffee shop that day and had headed over with Dashawn after closing time—around 4:30. Harper had barely missed them. She was surprised when Walt said he was at the festival all day.

"I never saw you there. But then, there was a big crowd." Harper gave him a loopy smile.

Walt peered at her over his beer. "Oh, I saw you on the edge of the field under some trees. It looked like you were taking a nap, from where I sat."

Harper could feel her cheeks get warm. She hoped her face wasn't turning red.

Deanna leaned back to get a good look at her friend. "You fell asleep at the festival?"

Harper smiled sheepishly. "Well, it was warm, I was full of cherry pie, and I guess I was tired." She flashed another goofy grin.

Walt smiled down at his beer. "Hey, it's all good. We're all glad you feel comfortable here. This really is a special place."

After Dashawn returned with three more beers, they all made a toast to their lives in Whippoorwill Gap. The world outside the windows had turned obsidian black. The brewery was now full of laughing people and the playlist had ended as a band set up to play.

"What kind of owl is that over the bar?" Harper yelled over the noise. "I've never seen such a little one before. It's shaped different from most of the ones I've seen."

Walt looked at her and one side of his mouth shot up in a half-grin. "That's not an owl, Harper, it's a whippoorwill."

"Oh." For the second time that evening, Harper's cheeks grew warm with embarrassment, but Deanna came to her rescue. "I've always thought they looked like owls, myself."

Harper sent a grateful glance toward her friend. "Why is it I've never heard a whippoorwill's song since I moved here? Other birds sing like they're auditioning for parts at the theatre. I used to love to hear whippoorwills when I was a kid. But, now that I think about it, I haven't heard a single one since…"

Then everyone abruptly looked up above her head. When Harper turned, she found herself staring into Bryan Greene's blue eyes.

He looked freshly shaven and smelled of something spicy. For the first time, she noticed that his dark hair was graying at the temples. She expected him to have his wife with him, but he appeared to be alone.

His eyes settled on her. "Well, fancy meeting you here. How are things going at your bookshop?"

Walt, who had been wearing what Harper had to admit was a handsome smile, now looked down at the table with a scowl.

"Things are going great so far, Bryan." Feeling generous, she gave him a broad, happy smile.

His stare was intense while she spoke, but when she smiled, he relaxed, straightening up and smiling himself. "That's great! Good to hear. Well, I hope you all have a good evening." With that, he nodded to everyone. Dashawn and Deanna nodded back; Walt vacantly returned his gaze. Bryan turned and headed toward the bar just as the band began playing. He took a seat with his back to them.

Whoa, Harper thought, what was that about?

Dashawn and Walt began yelling a conversation between them, but with the indie rock band playing, she couldn't hear anything they said. Deanna tapped her foot. She seemed happy listening to the music. But suddenly, Harper felt dizzy. She'd known the porter was weaker than wine, so she'd assumed it was okay to drink it quickly. On top of that, she'd downed her two glasses on an empty stomach.

As the band launched into a White Stripes cover, she suddenly didn't want to be there anymore. She wanted to be home in bed.

Deanna yelled in her ear, "Harper, are you alright? You're looking a little green."

Harper shook her head and tried to smile. "I'll be okay, but I'm ready to leave whenever you guys are."

"Want another?" Dashawn motioned towards Harper's glass.

"Good grief! No!" Harper said, wiping her hand across her brow, as a wave a queasiness surged over her.

Deanna looked concerned. "Drink up, Dashawn. We need to get our buddy home."

They said their goodnights to Walt. And within minutes, they were on their way back to their corner of Oak Street. It was only 9:00, but that was late enough for Harper. Deanna and Dashawn said goodnight at the shop's front door. Neither Fae nor robins were around, so she made her way quietly up the stairs. As she closed the living room's windows, she heard the owl hooting in the park.

The lamp on her bedside table had been turned on for her. Beside it, a small green ceramic tray held two aspirin and a large glass of water.

Harper decided to wait until the morning to see if she needed to take the pain reliever. But then she frowned as a thought occurred to her.

How do they know I might need that? Have they been spying on me?