Running Through the Words, 17

Seventeen.

The summer months generally fly by for Juli. Not only are there a million and one things to be done around the farmhouse, but an above-average number of odd jobs seem to come in from his regular clients. He’s already painted Mr. Flanagan’s shutters, tiled a backsplash for Jenny Goode, power washed at least a dozen homes, and repaired the railing of Mrs. Tyson’s deck. In addition to the Brewhaha’s regular maintenance, one might expect his mind to be primarily occupied by home repair. In truth, though, his thoughts continue to drift back to Magnolia Fitzpatrick.

July fourth has come and gone. Now, well into the second week of the month, he still hasn’t heard from her about a return to Lake Caywood and, if he’s being honest with himself, this is bothersome.

Sighing, Juli sets his toolbox in the back of his truck and makes his way to the barn. Petey should be there by now, brewing and brainstorming new concoctions, and he’d mentioned something about sampling a spring apple ale.

The day is a scorcher, the air thick with humidity. On Wednesdays, the brewery doesn’t open until four o’clock, so the only people on the property right now are employees. The afternoon feels uncharacteristically still and unusually quiet. Not even the birds are out and about, probably having decided to find shade closer to the lake where there might be the hint of a breeze. The barn is air-conditioned, though, and as soon as Juli steps inside, goosebumps creep along his bare arms. He can feel the sheen of sweat on his forehead tightening as it cools.

Petey stands on a ladder, checking some sort of gauge mounted to the side of one of the large, metal kegs. “So I had this idea,” he says brightly as soon as he spots Juli. “I bumped into Lucy Campbell the other day and she mentioned something about a fundraiser she and Bert are organizing. The Pink Pumpkin Plunge? All of the proceeds are going towards breast cancer awareness. Has Nol mentioned anything to you about it?”

“Nope,” Juli says glumly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s one of those events where people pay money to run down a dock and jump into a lake. Sometimes it’s in January, sometimes February… the water is always cold.”

“Okay…?”

“So, since October is, like, the month to bring attention to breast cancer, the Pink Pumpkin Plunge will be held at the Marina on Halloween morning. Eight to noon, I’m pretty sure. I thought we should do something to contribute, but beer sales aren’t gonna be great that early in the morning, so I was thinking…”

Juli retrieves a five-gallon bucket from a few yards away and flips it over, creating a makeshift stool. He takes a seat, slumps forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and prompts, “Yeah?”

“What if we were to keep the event going with a sort of afterparty? Invite people back to the Brewhaha for a bonfire and some Pink Pumpkin Pale Ale? Make it last from one to three, or possibly one to four. Whatever. Addy’s on board a hundred and ten percent, and I’ve already started mapping out a recipe for the beer.”

“Of course you have.”

“Even if we just donate the proceeds from one specialty brew—the Pink Pumpkin Pale Ale—it’ll be something.”

“It sounds like you’ve already put a lot of thought into this.”

“I have, yeah! I’m leaning toward ingredients like white pumpkins, cranberries, and autumn spices. With any luck, the cranberries and spices will create a pinkish color and I won’t need to use any unnatural dyes.” He grins excitedly, sandwiching his smile between two long parenthesis dimples. “What do you think?”

“I mean… yeah. It sounds great. What d’you need me to do?”

“Contact Nol,” Petey answers without missing a beat, “and ask her if we’re allowed to participate.”

Juli smirks, sensing an ulterior motive hidden within this plan. “You need me to get in touch with Nol, huh? Nol, who lives in New York City and isn’t one of the two people planning the event? That Nol? Because I’m not sure how me asking Nol to ask Lucy is a better idea than you asking Lucy yourself.”

Petey fetches two tiny glasses from a nearby counter and fills them with an amber-hued liquid. “Crispity-Crunch,” he says, introducing the apple ale as he places a snifter of it in the other man’s hand. “Let me know what you think.” He drags a folding chair over to join Juli and plops down on it, leaning back and stretching his legs in front of him. “As for the Nol thing… Lucy and Bert already have their hands full with the morning festivities. I thought she might be willing to head the afternoon portion of the event. And, you know…” he adds, smiling mischievously, “I thought maybe you could help her.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“I did indeed!”

Petey Goode has always had an uncanny ability to sense when a person needs something. Today, his radar must have alerted him to the fact that Juli could benefit from a reason to contact Nol Fitzpatrick. “Alright,” he sighs. “For you, I’ll do it.” He raises his ale to his lips, inhaling the fruity sweetness of its scent before inviting it into his mouth. When he does take that initial sip, he can’t help but feel the brew is aptly named: the cold liquid is crisp and refreshing, with a honeyed tang reminiscent of that first bite of an apple.

“This beer?” he asks, glancing over at Petey and raising his brows. “It’s a keeper.”

“I thought so too. And I generally know a keeper when I see one.”

🍁

Juli fulfills his promise later that evening. He’s texted Nol once or twice, but has never initiated an actual phone call, so he makes it a point to consume a bottle of Orange You Glad before dialing the number. And then he opens a second bottle before Magnolia has even had time to answer.

She picks up on the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Juli.”

The slightest of pauses exists before she says, “Hi, Juli.”

He takes a big gulp of his beer, feeling the fizz of the bubbles in his nose, and swallows his nerves. “So, hey… I have a question for you. I’m assuming you’re in the know regarding all of this Pumpkin Plunge stuff, right?”

“The Pink Pumpkin Plunge,” she corrects. “And yes, I am.”

Juli can practically hear the smile in her voice. He takes a slow breath and attempts to slow his pounding heart; his palms feel clammy. “Right, so, that’s good. Um… Petey and Addy wanna do something to help. An afterparty at the Brewhaha.” He explains the general idea, going so far as to include the ingredients being considered for the event’s custom beer. “He’s hoping to brew something that’s actually pink.”

“That would be different!”

“Yeah. So… what do you think?”

Nol giggles. “I think it sounds like a great idea, but why are you asking me? Lucy and Bert are the ones in charge of this shindig. It’s their opinion that matters.”

“Right. I know, but…” His voice trails away and a flush creeps into his cheeks. This is exactly the point he’d been trying to make earlier today. “I guess Petey just thought that if Bert and Lucy are on board, they might feel overwhelmed by the idea of essentially planning two events for the same day… so he wondered if you and I would wanna take the reins and sort of steer that endeavor.”

“Petey wondered that?”

“Well, Petey wondered it and I thought it sounded like a good idea,” he admits.

“You do realize I’m a good six-hour drive away, though. Unless, I mean, you were truly serious about the use of your apartment. Because I’ll be honest with you, Juli: I’ve thought about your offer a few times now. I can’t seem to get the Brewhaha and its story out of my head… but I also can’t ask Bas and Lucy to let me stay with them for months on end.”

Something flutters in Juli’s stomach. It feels like a solitary moth is in there flitting about, stirring up excitement and nervousness and hopeful anticipation. Logic still lingers in the back of his brain, though, and so he states realistically, “And you’ve got a full-time job in the city.”

“And I have a full-time job in the city,” Nol grants him, “but I’ve been thinking about that too. There’s no reason I can’t read manuscripts and work with my clients from Lake Caywood. I’d need to come back up here every now and again for business meetings and stuff like that, but I probably could balance work while researching the old farmhouse in my spare time. So…”

“Are you saying you’d like to borrow the upstairs apartment?”

“I’m saying I’d like to rent the upstairs apartment. If it’s still available. I’m not looking for handouts, Juli. I’ll pay you for its use.”

“Seriously, Nol. You do not need to—”

“Nope. If you won’t let me pay you for it, then I’m not interested.”

He leans against his kitchen counter and lightly taps his beer bottle against his front teeth. After a few seconds of thought, he agrees to the stipulation, but he silently vows to charge Nol no more than half what he’d charge another tenant. “Fine. It’s a deal. When should I expect you?”

“Give me a week to get some things finalized up here. I’ll text you when I have an official arrival date. But Juli…?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re sure I’m not putting you out?”

“Not at all. Especially since you’re forcing me to accept your money.”

Magnolia laughs. “Alright. Then Juli…?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”