Rider’s Block

34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter thirty-four

"10,000 Hours," Dan + Shay, Justin Bieber

I t’s a good thing Penny did her research, because watching the Randall family try to make a unified decision is comical. No wonder they eat at home every night. It’d be impossible to pick out a place to eat the way these guys banter. Nancy has her wants and clearly communicates them. George wants whatever Nancy wants. Trevor has opinions but is shy in wanting to express them. But he has them. I can tell the idea of eating anything involving fish makes him want to hurl. Dean has the second loudest opinion of the group, and as the resident person who wants fish in this equation, he’s doing a mighty fine job of trying to convince Trevor that his taste buds just aren’t mature, and he needs to try harder next time. Eric and Christine, as it turns out, are the attempted peacekeepers and do most of the mediating. Penny and I stay silent from the side, doing our best to hide our snickering as we watch the whole thing unfold.

There’s nothing hostile about it. Every insult is thrown out as a jest, not to truly be mean. But I could watch this all day. It’s a masterclass in friendly disagreement.

After fifteen minutes of back-and-forth debate—and no one looking up the options to eat, mind you, this is the preparatory conversation apparently—Penny leans over to ask, “Should I tell them there’s a place like ten minutes from here that has a little bit of everything?”

“Give it five more minutes, I want to see if someone suggests actually looking something up first.”

Three minutes pass before Penny can’t hold it in anymore and gives everyone the lowdown on the brewery that’s not too far away. Dean’s face as she lays it all out lets me know immediately he’s pivoted whatever opinion he has to match hers.

“Well damn, sugar cakes. This is why I keep you around,” he says as he comes up to her side and puts his arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. She blushes. Adorably. “Alright, everyone, you heard the woman. Let’s not waste any more time. I’m starved.”

We pile into a medley of trucks and arrive at our destination in no time. Penny showed me the website when we were watching the most amicable World War Three unfold, so I thought I knew what to expect. But once again it’s reaffirmed for me that you can’t learn everything from the internet.

If you were to try to define the brewery, you’d be quick to characterize the theme as a mountain log cabin. But that’s simply too cliché to talk about this place. All other cabin decor is cheeky compared to the twinkle-light setup I’m spinning around to admire from every angle. The inside seating works its way right out to the back porch seating that’s right on the lake, and since it’s not too cold yet we all opt to look at the water for as long as we can while we’re here. It’s part bar, part restaurant, and since it’s Wednesday night, apparently it’s also part dance hall.

The guys greet a few other men in cowboy hats that are here, and it looks like we aren’t the only ones from the rodeo to discover this place. I’m a regular at my sandwich shop because I like the food, but this place could serve black tar and I think I’d still be a regular. I would drink really bad beer just to get to drink it with this view. And beer makes me sick even when it’s good.

Dean sings Penny’s praises as we look over the menu and everyone finds something they want to eat. Trevor still gags a little when Dean orders the trout, but Christine pulls him to sit on opposite sides so it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. Hopefully.

“What are you in the mood for, babe?” Eric asks as I look the menu over from top to bottom for the third time.

“I can’t decide, everything looks good.”

“Want to pick two things and split ’em? So you can try ’em both?”

I look up at him and blink a few dozen times. “Are you trying to get me to love you or something?” spits out before I remember my filter.

“Red, if the answer to that question isn’t obvious then I need to kick it up a few notches. But good to know all it takes is to share a little food.” He winks. I pinch him while trying to suppress the smile that’s finding its way to my face. It feels like the most sincere one all day. “There she is. I’ve been waiting for that smile. You’ve been doing your fake one all day and it got me worried. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble as I feel that smile slip. I don’t want my dad to ruin this place, too. “It’s nothing important. I’ll tell you later, but not tonight. I just want to enjoy tonight.”

“You got it.” He leans over to kiss my temple, effectively bringing my smile back in place. “Now how about a burger and trout? Or do you want country fried steak…”

We go back and forth a few rounds. Not because I’m picky, but because Eric won’t tell me what he actually wants. He just keeps picking things he assumes I want. And he’s right with every assumption. I finally get him to admit he wants the country fried steak. The rest of dinner is spent how it’s always spent around the table at the ranch. The conversation ebbs and flows between including the whole table and periodically breaking off into pockets of conversation with people sitting closest together.

By the time we polish off a dessert sampler Nancy insisted we order two servings of, a small band starts warming up and a few locals start to migrate to the small dance floor.

After a few songs the Randall brothers grab their girls and we all make our way to the dance floor to join in on a dance style I’m so familiar with, I don’t even stop on Eric’s toes once. We dip and sway along the rickety dance floor under strings of fairy lights, and it’s right then and there that I redefine luxury. Because to me, this is it.

***

Since the rodeo preparation starts the next day we all pile back into our cars at a respectable hour to head to the lake house and straight to bed. Penny and I have a slight buzz. Not anywhere close to as tipsy as I felt the last time we all went out, but just enough to make everything ten degrees funnier.

Which turns out to be a problem. Penny and I watch with horror as Dean launches himself on the top bunk that doesn’t have my suitcase on it. And it would have seemed impressive. Athletic, almost. If it had gone the way he’d intended it, the smooth athleticism should have made Penny swoon. But instead, he managed to find a way that caused the entire unit to buckle in on itself and fall down.

Penny screaming his name as he came crashing down could almost sound like concern but seeing as she immediately keeled over laughing beyond control, her concern quickly melts right into hyena-like laughter that infectiously sends me into the same uncontrollable giggle fit. I don’t know how long we laugh for, but it eventually gets to Eric and Dean as well. Eric, being the responsible adult that he is, at least checks on Dean before laughing. Nothing but Dean’s pride is hurt, but any negative emotions he had about the situation were quickly removed when he saw the pure delight on Penny’s face. Malicious delight. But delight all the same.

Once Eric finally lets himself laugh, I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him lose control like this. I love it. So much. He has one of those deep, baritone laughs that soothes my soul a little bit. He’s come so far from the angsty cowboy I met. I really might be falling in love with him.

Which is a dangerous sentiment as he comes up behind me, wrapping me in his arms as he leans down to say, “Well, this might be a problem. The good news is that this bunk is a double, so we can all fit, but the bad news is that you’re about to torture me for the next three nights.”

“Oh shit.” The panic in Dean’s eyes likely matches my own as the realization sinks in. “Dammit, Penny, I’m so sorry. If you’re not comfortable with this, I can sleep on the ground—”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Penny says as she punches him affectionately in the arm. “It’s just sharing a bed—”

“A bunk—” Eric pipes in.

“We can all be adults about this. Me and Mia can take the top bunk and you guys can… well…”

The thought of Dean and Eric sharing a bed sends us all into another giggle fit. There’s no way they’d fit.

“Fine,” Penny gets out between inhaling a breath that’s been evasive since we got in this room. Then sending a pointed finger in Dean’s direction, “But you better…better be good.”

“What do you mean by ‘good,’ sweetheart?” Dean wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as Penny punches him in the arm again.

It’s tight quarters getting ready to sleep in a way that is modest and doesn’t take up too much room. We sashay around each other to change into our pajamas respectfully, we each take turns using the bathroom one at a time, and suddenly I find myself lying down next to Eric. In a bunk bed. With Penny and Dean in the top bunk.

I start to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. And we have three nights of this. Three whole nights! I start to giggle even more.

“Eric! Calm your woman. She’s shaking the whole bed,” Dean hisses from above us.

“You can just go ahead and shut the hell up before I do it for you,” Eric says with so much laughter in his voice everyone knows the threat is idle. “She can laugh all she wants.”

“Mia, stop! You’re going to make me start again and I just…” Penny trails off, giggling herself, “I just barely got myself under control—”

Dean breaks next and I’m surprised the whole house hasn’t barged in to tell us to knock it off yet.

I still can’t stop my laughter when Eric pulls me in close to his chest to try and smother me with the ruse of soft back scratches. He’s laughing just as much as I am, so his attempts at shushing get interrupted and shaky, which only makes me laugh more. But eventually his hand running up and down my spine settles me enough to catch my breath without hiccups.

“You good, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Sitting there in Eric’s arms, the statement couldn’t be more true.