Page 111 of Since We're Here
Kissing Patrick. Laughing with him.
The thought of not spending any more time there is heartbreaking. At least I’ll see it once more during the road trip.
Stella tilts her head at me. “Another bottle of wine? I’m going to take off tomorrow so I can show you around.”
Tomorrow. My original return flight date. I shake the thought out of my head.
“Then, yes, sister, we should obviously open another bottle of wine.”
I’m staying in London.
29
PATRICK
Thursday, 10 April
(two weeks later)
Saoirse and Ian sit on barstools, waiting expectantly for me to fill their glasses with the new IPA from one of the half dozen growlers in the fridges.
“Come on, what are you waiting for, Pat?”
“Right. Here we go.”
I pour a few fingers of the IPA into three pint glasses—one for me—and toss it back with them.
“Oh, mate, that’s so good.” Ian nods his head in approval.
“You’ve finally done it.” Saoirse smiles widely. “The right balance of bitter and citrus.”
“Exactly.” I nod. “Besides this batch, we’ve got a few more fermenting so we can start distributing over the coming months.”
“Fill them up, Patrick, then we’ll get out of your way.” Ian gestures to their empty glasses.
On Saturday, we’ll do a limited bottle release at O’Brien’s. We’re also going to celebrate this week’s successful meetingwith Wellington Pubs. They got back to me with a last-minute opening in their calendar, so I drove to their headquarters in Dublin and pitched Slea Head Brewery. Lola came along and helped seal the deal by bonding with their distribution lead about both of them growing up on cattle farms in County Cork.
Wellington agreed to carry our lineup in a ten-door test this fall, including the IPA and the autumn brew, which we’ve still not got quite right.
If the test goes well, they’ll consider full distribution.
It would change everything for Slea Head Brewery.
Dad’s still helping out at the brewery and Saoirse starts this week as full-time head manager at O’Brien’s.
Everything is finally coming together.
Once I’m done pouring, Ian takes the full glasses and retreats to an open table.
Saoirse sticks around.
“You missed dinner with Mam and Dad last weekend.”
“I know. I was exhausted and needed some down time.” I lean my palms on the counter and pray for customers to interrupt us.
My sister assesses me with narrowed eyes. I silently beg her not to ask me about Maddie. Not to push things more than she already has since Maddie left town.
“Have you talked to?—”
