I chuckle as I think about the whiskey we’ve been working on for ages. A good whiskey isn’t made overnight. It takes years to age. If this lawyer can’t get this expansion underway, then I’ll have enough whiskey to last my family a lifetime.
You see, we don’t have enough room to keep producing beer and whiskey. That’s why I need this expansion. We’ve cut way back on the amount of beer we’ve been producing because we’ve had plenty in stock. But that stock is now dwindling. We need our beer production to go back up, and the only way that can happen is if we stop making whiskey or move somewhere else entirely. But if we stop the whiskey, that’s 10 years wasted, and I refuse to waste 10 years.
“And this new lawyer, he understands the predicament we’re in, correct?”
“I relayed the message, sir.”
“And he’s sure he’ll be able to get the job done, despite the locals hating me, my family, and this business?”
He nods. “It’s worth a shot.”
“Worth a shot?” I ask, turning to face him. “It’s the only way, Harrison. If this doesn’t go through, we might as well kiss this business goodbye. Our stock is getting smaller by the day.”
“I completely understand, sir. Rest assured, I’ve done my job. Let’s just hope this new lawyer is the shark they say he is.”
I stand and take my cup to the kitchen, pouring a fresh cup. “Coffee?” I ask as he follows along behind me.
I turn to look at him as I pick up the bottle of whiskey, pouring just a tad into my coffee.
“Hitting the sauce a little early, are we?” Harrison has known me since I was a boy. He doesn’t exactly approve of the way I live my life.
“I don’t need your judgments, Harrison,” I say flatly.
I hear him take a deep breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him shake his head. “I guess I’ll be off. You know, enjoying my life instead of wallowing in the past.” He turns without another word.
I lean against the kitchen counter and sip my coffee as I watch him walk out. When the door slams behind him, I decide a shower is in order. I take my cup to the bathroom with me and set it down on the counter as I start the water. As it heats up, I yank off my shirt and look myself over in the mirror. I look jaded and bitter. My tanned skin is wrinkling around my eyes, my beard is long and overgrown, and my dark hair is starting to gray around the temples from the hard life I’ve lived. I look rough and haggard. I guess Harrison wasn’t too far off when he said “bitter and cynical.”
I turn away from my reflection and finish undressing before stepping into the shower. The hot water pours over my head and I close my eyes, giving myself over to the heat and relaxation. For the first time this morning, I just let everything go. I don’t think about the past or the future. I don’t think about the stress the company is causing me to feel. I don’t think about what Harrison said, or what the locals think. For once, there’s nothing. It’s silent, and it’s much needed.
I wash off quickly and end up sitting in the shower, just letting myself waste some time and absorb the heat. God knows my body needs the relaxation. When the water begins to run cold, I step out and get dressed for the day. I pull on a pair of jeans, my dirty work boots, a white sleeveless undershirt, and a flannel shirt. I add a leather belt and pull a hat on my head before heading outside to get some work done.
I live in the country, and my house is completely private. There’s a long gravel drive that’s at least three miles long. There’s nothing but wheat fields as far as the eye can see. Where the fields end, the mountain range begins. It’s absolutely breathtaking.
There’s a big red barn just to the side of the old farmhouse. At one point in time, it housed many horses, but the last 20 years or so, it’s been empty. I’ve been thinking about filling it again, but the barn needs a lot of work before that can happen.
I walk over to the barn and pull the doors open. I’ve been working on mucking the stalls and repairing the old, rotting wood piece by piece. I head up to the loft and flip on the light. I open the doors to let some sun and air in, then plug in the power saw to start cutting the wood I’ll need for the day. After I’ve cut what I need, I carry stacks downstairs and get to work on repairing the stall doors. For each one, I replace all the hinges and hardware, hang the door, and oil it up so it opens easily without any squeaking. By the end of the day, all 12 stalls have new doors. Since I spent all of last week building new stalls, the entire ground level of the barn has been rebuilt.
I stand back and check out my handiwork. All the workbenches have been refurbished, and all the stalls and doors are brand-new. Instead of heading back upstairs to start my work there, I opt to crack open a beer, blare some loud music, and get to work on putting everything back in place.
I’m on my sixth beer when my older brother, Colton, walks in.
“Damn, are you going deaf in your old age?” he teases as he grabs a beer for himself and jumps up onto the workbench to sit down.
I turn down the music and pick up my beer. “Not yet. Is that something I need to prepare for? You would know,” I joke. He’s only a couple years older, but I’ll never let him forget it since he wouldn’t let me forget it growing up.
He holds up his middle finger and takes a long drink.
“Where’s Milly?” I ask, leaning my shoulder against a horse stall.
He waves his hand through the air. “She’s with the new nanny.”
“Another one?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
He doesn’t reply, only nods.
“How many nannies can one guy burn through? What are you doing to these poor women?” I ask around a smile. My brother is not easy to handle, and he’s only gotten worse since his wife passed away, leaving him alone with their one-year-old daughter.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about it, man.” There’s a long minute of silence between us. “The barn is looking good. You must’ve been working nonstop on this.”
I look around. “Yeah, it’s something to do.”
He looks at me. Really looks at me. “Is this something you’re doing for you, or is this something you’re doing in the hope of—”
“Don’t even say her name,” I threaten.
He holds up his hands. “I was just asking, man. I mean, she was the one who wanted horses, right? You’ve never shown any interest in raising horses.”
I finish my beer, toss it into a nearby trash can, and grab another from the cooler. “It’s just something to do. Yeah, I’m fixing up the barn. That doesn’t mean I’ll be buying horses anytime soon. Hell, I was thinking about putting an apartment in the loft upstairs, though that doesn’t mean I’m putting ads in the paper. It’s all just something to keep my hands and mind busy. Pass some time.”
He nods once. “Ah, I get it. Why don’t you go out and make some friends around town?”
I scoff. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Why don’t you go make some friends around town?”
He snorts. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”
Our family is the most hated family in this town. It’s all over a bunch of bullshit too. Years and years ago, back when my family started building the brewery, some locals swore we built on their land. They say my great-grandfather paid off the zoning commissioner and got him to move the property lines. In their eyes, our brewery is on land we stole from them. Of course, it’s been so long now that all the original people involved have passed, but that hasn’t stopped the rumors or the dirty looks we get from their descendants. In my mind, I picture each family sitting down at Christmas dinner and telling their next generation the story of how the Slade family stole their land.