A quick map search on my phone shows The Watering Hole is within walking distance of my rental on Cherry Lane. Since the sidewalks were cleared while I was downtown this afternoon, I decide to walk. I’d be fine to drive after just one drink, but catching the scent of alcohol on Thea earlier stirred up something in me. Even though I’ve never personally been affected by drunk driving, I’ve heard too many horror stories and have seen too many people take unnecessary chances.
Plus I ate more than half the box of macaroni and cheese, so I feel like the walk is necessary at this point.
The evening is clear and crisp. I tuck my hands into my coat pockets and nestle the lower half of my face into my giant, fuzzy scarf. After passing the fourth house in a row with their Christmas lights already up, and spying several Christmas trees in front windows, I realize Mae and Liam weren’t kidding about Honeywell being nuts about Christmas.
It’s possible I should have chosen another town to escape to. I likely would have encountered the same thing anywhere I went, though, unless I was completely isolated in the middle of nowhere. By the time Christmas actually rolls around next month, I might be wishing I’d chosen a cabin in the woods.
The Watering Hole looks like a typical dive bar from the outside: essentially a big, nondescript box with faded paint and two windows on either side of the front door. It’s the type of place you’d likely drive by if you didn’t know it was here or notice the handful of cars in the parking lot. Inside, I’m greeted by the scent of beer and fried food, and the sound of chattering voices and music playing over a jukebox in one corner. With the dim lighting, my eyes go directly to the bright spots in the room: a Christmas tree with colorful lights near the jukebox, and the white lights strung around the perimeter of the room.
Thea is behind the bar on the far side of the room, pulling pints and laughing with a pair of older men sitting on stools. As I approach the bar, I notice she looks different than she did this afternoon; the dark circles under her eyes are hidden beneath a layer of concealer, and the minimal makeup she wore earlier has been replaced with a full face of perfectly-applied cosmetics. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, highlighting her long neck and the large silver hoops dangling from her ears. Her tight red top reveals a ton of cleavage along with a strip of bare midriff. I’m so busy admiring her cleavage—yes, admiring, since I was blessed with little more than B cups—it takes me a minute to realize she’s wearing one of those novelty necklaces that’s made of tiny multi-colored light bulbs.
I head for the opposite end of the long counter since all the stools there are free. Thea scans the bar after serving the two men, and her face lights up when she spots me.
“You made it,” she says as she comes my way.
“I did. Thanks for inviting me.” I wave a hand at her necklace, then over my shoulder to encompass the room. “I’m guessing the Christmas decorations in here were your doing?”
Instead of answering, she flips a minuscule switch on her necklace, making the bulbs flicker to life. “Super cheesy, I know,” she says, turning it off and leaning her elbows on the bar.
“I think it’s fun,” I tell her. “Have you always been a big Christmas lover?”
She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “It wasn’t a big deal in my house growing up, although I have to give Liam credit for always trying to make it special. I didn’t really care too much ’til Rexy came along. And, this might make me sound like a nutty fan, but it was around that time I started watching your movies. I had postpartum depression really bad, and all I did most days was sit around with the baby and watch TV. Your movies gave me so much hope. I know they’re not real, but when I watch them, I can imagine someday things will work out, you know? That I’ll stop being a fuck-up and I’ll meet an amazing person who will love me and Rex and we’ll all live happily ever after.”
Her voice sounds dreamy and her head is tilted up, gaze out of focus. Her tone and the words themselves make my breath catch and my chest swell with sympathy. Nearly everyone I’ve encountered in Honeywell so far has taken me by surprise, and Thea is no different. She looks so tough, but seeing her with Rex earlier and now hearing her speak of a happily ever after in a pensive, faraway tone reminds me how deceiving appearances can be.
She laughs suddenly, her gaze clearing as it returns to mine. “You ask a simple question and I give you my life story. Welcome to Honeywell Hollow.”
If I knew her better, I’d reach out and lay my hand over hers where it rests on the bar. I don’t know how she’d react, so I say, “I’m glad my movies helped. Lately I’ve been feeling like they’re just cheesy fluff—not that there’s anything wrong with that, everyone needs some escapist fun sometimes—but to know they actually touch people…well…” I trail off, shrugging. “Is everything okay now? I know Rex is far from a baby, but from what I’ve heard, postpartum depression is no joke.”
She nods, straightening and stepping back to rearrange some glasses under the bar. “It was rough for a while there. It was just me on my own with this tiny baby. I didn’t know anything about kids, so I felt like I was as new as he was. Liam came back to Honeywell when Rex was a couple months old, and he made sure I went to see a doctor, plus helped with the baby. I don’t think we would have survived without him.”
If my chest was swelling before, I feel like the Grinch now after his heart grew three sizes. Before I can figure out a response, Thea plants her hands on the bar and blows out a noisy breath. “Anyway. Enough of that, at least for now. What can I get you, Joss? Wait, wait, let me guess.” She narrows her eyes and studies me; first my face and then my hair, which is swept back and held in place by a dozen or so bobby pins. She leans on the bar and shimmies forward a bit, giving me an up close and personal look at her full breasts as she examines my outfit, then my purse and shoes. She hops back down and plants her hands on her hips. “Vodka martini. Lemon twist instead of olives.”
I burst out laughing. “How the hell did you do that?”
She shrugs one shoulder, grinning in a way that somehow manages to be both cheeky and enigmatic. “It’s a gift. I’m right, aren’t I?” When I simply nod, still chuckling, she says, “One vodka martini coming up.”
She mixes my cocktail and presents it with a flourish before grabbing a bottle of beer for herself. She asks about my home in Toronto, what I’m working on next, and about a few of the people I’ve worked on movies with. I’d hoped to avoid ‘shop talk’ in Honeywell, but Thea’s genuine interest puts me at ease enough to open up.
I’m giving her a few hints about the new Christmas movie I’m in that comes out the second week of December when I sense someone standing behind me. A whiff of musky cologne greets me before he does.
“If it isn’t Honeywell’s newest temporary resident.” Liam leans on the bar, shooting his sister a grin before his smiling eyes land on me. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who frequents dive bars.”
“Are you kidding? Places like this are my personal catnip. They’re the perfect spots to people-watch and get all kinds of ideas and inspiration that helps with my acting.”
A hint of a smile flirts around the edges of his mouth as he studies me, seemingly trying to puzzle out whether I’m being serious or sarcastic.
Thea gives a little snort. “I ran into Joss earlier today and invited her here for a drink tonight.”
Liam places a hand over his heart and exhales sharply. “So you took a rain check when I invited you for coffee, but you accepted my sister’s invitation?”
“Next time you’ll know to invite me for cocktails instead of coffee.”
He ducks his head, chuckling softly. “I’ll remember that.”
Thea gives another little snort and takes a swig of her beer. Liam raises his head to look at her, his smile slipping a notch. Thea’s eyes lock with his and the bottle freezes halfway to her lips. She stays like that for a moment, as if in a tableau, then she raises the bottle slowly and takes a deep pull. “Chill, big brother,” she says, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. “It’s just one beer.” She sets the bottle down with so much force, foam erupts over the rim.
Before Liam can respond and without so much as a glance at me, Thea swivels on her heel and struts to the other end of the bar. She says something to the bartender there, who nods and disappears into the back. I watch her for a minute as she interacts with customers. Despite her rigid posture, her smile is firmly back in place.
Liam sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. All traces of playfulness from a moment ago are gone, replaced by an air of defeat. This is clearly an argument they’ve had more than once. It makes me think of the alcohol I smelled on Thea’s breath earlier this afternoon, and yet, in the time I’ve been here she’s only taken a few sips of beer.
“So,” I say, clearing my throat, “you seem to be everywhere.”
He offers me a tired smile. “Small town.”
“Right.” I cast around in my mind for something to say. I want to see him smile again, want the tense lines of his shoulders to ease. I wouldn’t even mind going back to our flirty banter. “I met Rex earlier today.”
His eyes brighten. Bingo.
“Yeah? He’s a great kid. Being his uncle is one of the best parts of my life.” His eyes shift past me, and I peer over my shoulder at Thea, who’s still at the other end of the bar. She meets her brother’s gaze and, although her expression remains stony, there’s a slight softening around her eyes. When I turn back, Liam’s eyes are back on me. “You’re not going to ask what that’s about?”
“It’s none of my business. But I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”
Silence falls as he mulls it over. Before he can say anything else, Thea returns, setting another martini in front of me, along with a glass of what looks like ginger ale in front of her brother. The two of them stare at each other for a long moment, seeming to communicate silently. Finally, she shimmies up onto the bar like she did when she was checking out my outfit, and plants a loud kiss on Liam’s cheek.
“Sorry to have interrupted your flirt flow earlier,” she says, eyes darting back and forth between me and Liam, a Cheshire Cat grin overtaking her face. “Carry on.”
I sputter out a laugh as she flounces away, ponytail swinging.
“Do you have siblings?” Liam asks.
“No, only child.”
“I’m envious and yet feel sorry for you at the same time.”
I take a sip of my drink, peering at him over the rim of the glass. He wears a fond expression as he watches his sister pouring drinks. From the people I know who have siblings, it seems common for there to be a love/hate relationship. I have a feeling Liam and Thea fall on the love side more often than not, though. “She said you came back to town after Rex was born?”
“Yeah. I’d been living and working in Toronto for a few years. The guy Thea was dating left when she got pregnant; she was only sixteen at the time, seventeen when Rex was born. Our mother was no help, and since all I did was worry about Thea and the baby anyway, I decided to come home. It was supposed to be temporary, but then our mom got sick, so I decided to move back for good.”
I remember what Mae said about Liam taking care of everyone: He’s a fixer, that boy. A caregiver. Always looking out for people, wanting to lend a hand, making himself useful. “Thea and your mom are lucky to have you.”
His lips lift into something I wouldn’t exactly call a smile. “I’m glad I came back. I can’t imagine my life without Rex, and I love Thea even when we drive each other nuts.” He pauses, leaning against the bar and angling his upper body toward me. “And my mom…she was a good woman, but not much of a mother. You’ll likely hear stories about her around town if you haven’t already.”
My heart pinches at his words. I can’t count the number of times I’ve thought the same thing about my own mom: she was a good woman and, although I know she did her best as a mother, her best wasn’t great. She had all the compassion in the world for her patients, while her motherly duties often took a back seat. As I always do when this subject comes up, I feel like I'm betraying her simply by having these thoughts. And yet her death doesn’t change the fact I was never her top priority. It sounds like Liam can relate. “I’m sorry about your mom. Mine is gone too, and I understand the whole complicated mother-child situation.”
His smile is a bit more genuine now, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He gives his head a little shake. “Thea would be horrified if she heard our topic of conversation. She told us to get back to flirting and here we are talking about our pasts and our dearly departed mothers.”
“Well,” I say, taking a fortifying sip of my martini, “flirt away. Hit me with your best stuff.”
His answering chuckle is a low rumble that sends warmth spreading through my body. “I’m not sure I can flirt on command.”
“Come on, a hottie like you must have the residents of Honeywell all aflutter on a regular basis.”
This draws another laugh out of him and I swear his cheeks are turning pink under his dark stubble. His eyes lock on mine, his easy smile making the skin around his eyes crinkle in a way that nearly takes my breath away. I don’t know about the residents of Honeywell, but I’m certainly all aflutter right now. Those eyes are what you’d call bedroom eyes, and they have me wondering what it would be like to get Liam Doherty alone in a bedroom.
“You think I’m a hottie?” he asks quietly, playfully.
Between his eyes and his read-me-the-phone-book voice, there’s soon going to be nothing left of me but a steaming Joss-shaped puddle. Normally I’d find a way to change the subject. I’ve never been good at flirting, possibly because most of my flirting has been contained to movies where someone else has written the lines for me. But I don’t want to change the subject. I want to see where this conversation goes. Now that I know Thea is Liam’s sister and not his girlfriend or wife, my attraction to him has amped back up. So I clear my throat and swivel on my stool to face him. “I do.”
His eyebrows quirk, head tilting to the side. I don’t think he was expecting my answer.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Liam?” I ask.
“I don’t,” he says slowly, something changing in his eyes. If possible, they’re darker now than they were a moment ago. “How about you?”
“Nope, no girlfriend.”
He chuckles under his breath, tilting his head a bit further, eyes narrowing on my face like he’s trying to figure something out.
“No significant other,” I add. “Is it difficult dating here? You probably know most of the women in Honeywell.”
“Since childhood,” he confirms. “I had a couple of relationships here before I left for the city.”
“And since then?”
He takes a sip of his drink, his eyes darting away from mine. “Since then, only one serious relationship, and it was with a woman who moved to town for a while. I’ve been single since she left.”
His flat tone tells me this is a wound better not poked at. I get it. I hate talking about Alan and I avoid it whenever possible.
Liam clears his throat and straightens. Our conversations keep starting out light before veering into darker territory. He opens his mouth to speak, but it hangs open as his attention shifts past me. His eyes narrow and his mouth snaps shut, brows pulling together. Before I can turn to see what he’s looking at, a red blur streaks by. It’s Thea, dashing at full speed toward the bar from the seating area. She’s looking in the same direction as Liam and pointing at something with one hand, making a silent slashing motion across her throat with the other. I whip around to see the other bartender staring at her in confusion.
My gaze lifts to the TV above the bar. I noticed it when I came in, but have had my back to it since I’ve been sitting. The screen has my full attention now, though, as my own face flashes across it. A picture of Alan and me from an awards show last year fills the screen before shrinking to a circle in the corner and being replaced by a shot of Alan and the woman he left me for. Seeing them makes me feel as if my whole body has been doused in ice water.
When a familiar-looking woman appears on the screen, I realize this is one of those nightly celebrity entertainment-slash-gossip shows. The TV is muted so I can’t hear what she’s saying. It doesn’t matter because a moment later the photo of Alan and his girlfriend is replaced by a video of them outside a restaurant in Toronto. Flashbulbs go off as they’re followed down the street by a group of photographers.
A grainy photo is superimposed over the video. Despite the crappy quality of the shot, there's no mistaking the giant diamond ring on Alan’s girlfriend’s left hand. The picture of Alan and me returns to the screen along with the host of the show. When the channel suddenly changes, I snap out of my daze to see Thea with the remote in her hand. Her wide eyes meet mine. The look she gives me is likely meant to be sympathetic, but all I can see is pity.
My body has gone from cold to hot. My cheeks are on fire and my hands are shaking. The weight of eyes on me is nearly suffocating and, as I peer around, my fears are confirmed: there aren’t many people in the bar, but nearly all of them are watching me, likely curious after Thea’s mad dash to change the channel.
It takes me several beats to work up the courage to look at Liam. His expression is neutral, not giving away even a hint of what he’s thinking.
“Can I drive you home?” he asks quietly after what feels like an endless stretch of silence. The simple question makes me want to burst into tears. Before I can answer, he rises from his seat, laying a few bills on the bar for Thea. He dons his coat and then reaches past me for mine, which I draped on the vacant stool next to me when I arrived. “Let’s get out of here.”