Page 57 of The Stars in the Sky
Tequila
WILL AND I WALKED away from the compound to his favorite bluff, which had quickly become my favorite bluff. A clear, cloudless sky meant that it was an absolutely beautiful summer evening that would surely turn into a superb night for stargazing.
I carried a blanket to sit on. He carried a small picnic basket with sandwiches made by Cookie—ham for Will, peanut butter for me—potato chips, watermelon, vegan chocolate cookies, water, and a huge bottle of tequila with a couple of plastic cups. So it was going to be a party. Woo-hoo!
But I had an agenda. I probably didn't really want to know the answers to any of it, but what could I say? I couldn't help myself. Ihadto know.
Still, as we walked, I was suddenly shy. This felt weird. I was never shy. But I guess I didn't want to spend the evening fighting with him about politics, or getting jealous of past girlfriends. And truthfully, I also really liked him and I didn't want to find out anything I wouldn't like.
I still felt an overwhelming urge to ask these things.
I couldn't bring myself to say a word until we got to the picnic site and spread out the blanket over the low vegetation. Since it was one of the longest days of the year, the sun was still high in the sky. The ocean crashed below us, no one else around. We settled on the blanket, sitting cross-legged, facing each other.
"Guess I shouldn't be worried about you takin’ me out here and takin’ advantage of me, given our agreement," Will joked.
"Nope. I do want to talk," I said sincerely.
"'Kay."
"See, that's it. You always have one word answers. Maybe for every one word answer you have to take a shot of tequila—"
"No," he interrupted. "We can each take a shot to get started. And if the other says somethin’ that deserves a shot, that'll be it."
This could get interesting rather quickly. I nodded. At least he was playing along.
He got out the bottle and the plastic cups, poured me a healthy shot and himself a healthier shot, saying, "I'm bigger than you," and downed it.
I drank my shot. It warmed me up immediately. With the kids around this summer, I hadn't been drinking as much as I usually did. We'd see if my tolerance had changed any over the past few weeks.
Will handed me my sandwich, unwrapped his own, took a bite, and said, "Shoot, darlin'."
Now that it was my chance to grill him, I couldn't do it.
That is, I chickened out about asking him about politics. That was the deepest issue and I couldn't start with it. Better to start with basic information that I didn't know.
"Where did you go to school?" I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.
"College? Cal Poly, up the road. I've gotta degree in Agriculture. Went to high school in Santa Ynez with all the farm kids." Local boy stays local.
"Where have you worked?"
He chewed a bite of his sandwich and swallowed. "I've only ever worked here. Even in college, I came back here on weekends."
"How come?"
"Don't want to be anything other than a rancher. That’s what I am."
I looked at him as I chewed my sandwich. "Take a shot."
He burst out laughing. "I just took one. You've only asked two questions."
"You said whenever the other one says something that deserves a shot, you take a shot. Your work history deserves a shot. You must have the shortest resume on the planet."
"Yep." He sighed. "Fine, but fuck. You’re gonna get me fucked up."
"That's the point. You already asked me about me days ago, and I answered. But when I asked you questions, you barely answered me. So now it's my turn. How many girlfriends have you had?"
He stared at me and his cheek twitched. "That's dangerous territory darlin'. You don't wanna do that."
