“And what did he say?”Spencer asked.Still working on my drink behind the bar, the man was unable to hide his skepticism from either his face or his tone.
“He said he does … sometimes.”
“Really?”Spencer and I both said at the same time.
“Yeah.I mean lichenisfascinating.A symbiotic relationship between an algae and a fungus.Often only growing a few millimeters a year.The piece that I was admiring could have easily been twenty or thirty years old.How remarkable is that?”
“Thatisremarkable,” Spencer said, placing my lowball of amber liquid in front of me.“I just find it a little surprising thatDamonalso finds lichen fascinating.”
“What have I got here?”I asked him.
“It’s a whiskey and honey-lemonade.Our new cocktail for summer.We’ve partnered with Barrington’s Bees—the island apiary—for their honey, and the Twisted Sisters Cidery for their lemons.Then we add a splash of soda water to make it a little bubbly, and voila!What do you think?”
I took a sip, and it was like summer rushed across my tongue.My eyes widened, and I took a fuller sip.“That’s delicious.And dangerous.”The tartness of the lemon lingered on the back of my tongue, but when it faded, there was that delightful, floral note of the whiskey.“Your brainchild?”I asked him.
He shrugged at the same time the clunk of the nachos on a plate being put in the window echoed through the big warehouse style distillery tasting room.“It was a combined effort between me and Trace.He’susuallyour mixologist, but we all have a hand in the cocktails.”
He set the nachos down in front of Mabel.
“Can I take these outside to that picnic table?”my kid asked.“I see some Northern flickers out there.”
Spencer nodded with enthusiasm.“Of course.”
“Here, I’ll help you.”I grabbed the nachos and her ginger ale, while she carried her notebook, and I set her up at the sun-bleached gray cedar picnic table under the navy umbrella.“We won’t be too long, kiddo.”
“I’m fine.”She grabbed a chip from the plate and bit into it as she set up her Merlin app to record the birds.
I headed back inside and took my seat at the bar.
“So … are the rumors true?”Spencer asked.He poured himself a glass of water, then came around the bar to take up the barstool where Mabel had been.
He was a big guy and had a big presence.Half white, have Haitian, he’d been an electrician in Seattle before he and the other three dads all pooled their money, moved to the island, and started up the distillery.
“What rumors?”I asked.“It’s a small town.Aren’t rumors the lifeblood of the island?”
He huffed a laugh and took a sip of his water.“Yes, that’s true.But I mean, the rumors about you and Naomi Geuer?Is it true you’re dating?”
Reaching for my honey-lemonade, I took a long sip.“Yes.We are.”
“Since when?”
“It’s new.We’re taking it slow.”
Ish.Last night wasn’t taking it slow.
If I had my way, we’d do what we did last night every night, and then some.
“She hasn’t had a lot of dating experience, and neither have I.Plus, we have the kids to think about.And there aren’t too many places we can go for privacy.So we’re just … getting to know each other.”
“Right.How does Mabel feel about it?Does she know?I didn’t want to bring it up in front of her in case she didn’t know yet.”
“She knows.So do Austin and Honor.And they all seem fine with it.Like I said, we’re taking it slow.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I fished it out.Dawn’s face and name appeared on the screen.
I showed Spencer my screen, and he grinned.“I love that woman almost as much as I love my own mother.”
Nodding, I hit the green button and put it on speakerphone.The other customer had wandered outside around the corner to another batch of tables.So besides the cook in the kitchen—who I didn’t think could hear—we were the only people in here.Strange for a Friday afternoon, but whatever.
