-Yeah. I could use a drink though.
He nods and in a few minutes we enter a liquor store.
“I’m going to…” he starts, but I jump out of the car and walk towards the store like a thirsty, dazed, barefoot zombie bride.
With long strides, he comes forward to open the door for me. When I cross the threshold, I don’t make eye contact, but I notice him looking at me like he thinks I’m going to explode. I think I’ve already done it.
Inside, it reeks of stale beer and Pine-Sol.
Jasper turns to take a look at the small store. It’s more of a wide hallway, too tight. Sort of like the guy behind the counter, bulging out of his shirt.
“Welcome,” he grumbles while checking his phone without looking at us.
“Do you want… Champagne?” Jasper holds up a bottle of the prettiest champagne on the shelf, which isn’t saying much for this joint. To celebrate?
I snort at that.
-No. I purse my lips and continue walking backwards. I want something fattening and low quality. Something Sterling and my father would never approve of.
I hear Jasper chuckle behind me as I head to the cold beer section in the back. His way of laughing, soft and deep, never fails to make me feel like I’m soaking in a hot bath. Sometimes he is so serious that when he laughs it is beautiful.
The grit of the floor against my bare feet makes me smile. Sterling and my father wouldn’t approve of this, so I press my steps harder, rolling all over my foot, hoping the soles will be black by the time I’m done shopping. A completely inconsequential rebellion, but satisfying nonetheless.
I stop and look at the refrigerator shelves. And there it is. Like a shining beacon before me. Buddyz Best Beer.
It’s really the Z that seals the deal for me. It’s so unnecessary. So inappropriate. The cans look thin – cheap – with a poorly drawn basset hound on the front.
“Perfect,” I murmur reverently as I reach out and take the six-pack.
When I turn around, Jasper smiles at me.
Is Buddyz Best perfect?
-Yeah. I lift the cans up to my face and stare at the dog with its droopy face and sad look. Right now I feel like a basset hound inside. Buddy is the perfect man for me. Cheap. Alcoholic. And most importantly, he is not a human male at all.
The smile I throw at my friend is unhinged to say the least as I head to the register and set the beer on the counter. Finally, the man lifts his chin from his phone and watches what appears to be a bowling competition.
His eyes appraise me before settling on the beer and looking back at Jasper. This guy looks like he’s seen shit. I expect him to ask me questions, but all he says is, “Congratulations to you both,” while he glances at the beer and tells me the total in a bored tone.
I look for my bag, but realize I left it when we ran outside.
A long arm reaches over me and tosses me a ten dollar bill.
“Keep the change,” Jasper says. He guides me out of the store with a gentle hand that touches my elbow, eyes fixed on my bare feet. Sunny, you’re going to need a bath when we get to the ranch.
“Maybe if I drink enough,” I hold up the six pack, feeling a little dizzy, “I’ll invite you to join me.”
Jasper stares at me, his jaw hanging like I’ve pissed him off. He doesn’t utter a word, nor does he lift his cheeks.
“Just kidding,” I respond to the awkward silence before turning around and running back to the comfortable SUV. I buckle up, open a cheap beer, and take a long swig in an incredibly sad attempt to forget about my problems and the bad joke I just made. Jasper and I drive in complete silence. I continue drinking and he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he just grips the steering wheel as if trying to strangle it while keeping an intense gaze on the road.
And after my third beer on an empty stomach, I feel a little better. Also a little drunk.
So I give a monologue, like I usually do with Jasper.
“You know I didn’t want an ugly fall wedding. I wanted a spring wedding. I wanted a flowy, feminine dress and an outdoor ceremony. No stuffy tuxedos, and definitely no black bridesmaid dresses. I raise my hand and look at the rock the size of the iceberg that sank the Titanic. And I hate this ring. I saw one in a little boutique on Sixteenth Avenue, do you know that area? It was an oval purple sapphire. How cool is a purple sapphire? And they set it sideways in matte yellow gold. Sterling said it was ‘weird’ and then gave me this ring the next week. I swear he chose the opposite of what I wanted on purpose.
“Romantic,” Jasper says, his jaw tense.
I drink in silence, mulling over the fact that I pretended to like this ring when he gave it to me because I didn’t want to offend anyone.
When we arrive at Wishing Well Ranch, Harvey’s truck is in the driveway, even though we thought he and Beau were going to be at the wedding. Jasper and I exchange a confused look, and as soon as he parks the car, he sets off to get to the front door. I run after him, my heart pounding, because something is wrong.
Inside, Harvey is sitting at the wide kitchen table with a large glass of bourbon in his palms. A strange green tone colors his complexion.
Jasper stands frozen in the doorway, staring at him.
-What’s happening? I ask instantly because it’s one of those moments when you realize it.
The house is too dark, too quiet.
My uncle, who is always all smiles and warm looks, seems gutted.
Harvey doesn’t comment on my bare feet or ask why I’m here. Instead, his eyes lock onto Jasper’s and he says, “Beau is missing.”
5
jasper
I register the sound of Sloane’s beer can hitting the hardwood floor, but everything else is just white noise. The blood running. The heart sinking.
I’ll never forget Harvey’s tormented face staring at me from the kitchen table. It is etched in my memory, along with the day my little sister died.
“I’m going to need you to repeat that.” I hear myself speak, but outside the body, as if I had come out of my skin and was looking at myself. I see Sloane swaying, her delicate hand pressed to her lips while the other leans on the door frame.
“Beau is missing,” he says again.
“How come he’s missing ?” “It’s as if I had completely let go of what I didn’t want to hear.
He clears his throat and takes another deep gulp of the amber liquid in his glass. Everyone is looking forward to drinking tonight.
“Sit down, son.
Anxiety unfurls in my chest, spreading through my veins like wildfire and turning into blind panic. I feel like a cornered animal.
“I don’t want to sit down.” “My arms hang limply at my sides. My fingers have gone numb. Beau is my best friend. We’ve been joined at the hip for years. He’s the boy who saved me and brought me here, no questions asked. He is my brother in every way.
A special forces soldier with a personality the size of yours doesn’t just disappear .
“I want to know what’s happening.” My voice sounds hollow and robotic to my own ears.
I feel a soft throb around my forearm and the pressure of Sloane’s body moving closer to mine. His fingers must be squeezing my arm at a slow, steady pace. It’s almost like my heartbeat, which has slowed to a dull thud as everything spins around me. Your squeeze is what keeps it beating.