Page 1 of Summer Brew

CHAPTER 1

GEMMA

I grab two bottles of the beer I made from the fridge, glad that I’m finally able to taste it now that it’s cold enough. Still, I have a feeling it’s not going to be right. Again.

This whole thing started as a hobby and now it’s taken over my garage and any spare moment I might have. But that’s just how it needs to be until I figure out the perfect recipe for Green Mountain High’s first in-house beer. It’s become an obsession at this point. Is obsession the right word?

If anyone asks, I call it determination. When you wrap obsession up in ambition, it sounds nicer. Right?

After handing Meadow the other beer in my hand, she smiles brightly at me. “Be warned,” I tell her.

“You always say that,” she teases me.

“I always mean it,” I tell her, just like I always do.

This has become our script, of sorts, whenever she comes over to try my latest failure. And they are always failures. I’ve gotten close, my hobby isn’t without merit, but it’s still not the result I want.

It’s kind of ridiculous that I can’t get this recipe right. I’ve followed the directions and made a decent beer, but the problem comes in when I try to layer in any cannabis. Every hops to cannabis ratio I try ends up tasting like a science experiment gone wrong. I’ve approached it so many ways and in so many combinations, but it never tastes right.

I have no doubt it’ll be the same this time.

After clinking my bottle against hers, I give her a bright smile. I take a drink and my nose scrunches up right away. Not what I wanted. Not the worst thing I’ve made, but it tastes…muddled.

Again.

Still.

Again?

Fuck.

“This is good,” Meadow’s voice is bright, but maybe a little too bright.

I narrow my eyes at one of my best friends, unable to keep the scorn off my face. “It’s not good,” I sneer the words.

“You’re searching for perfection. Do you even know what it is you’re looking for?” Meadow’s question isn’t without merit. “This is good,” she emphasizes the words like if she says it with enough meaning then it’ll be true.

“It’s not the worst one I’ve made,” my tone is begrudging, at best. “That’s not saying much though.”

“You’re so hard on yourself,” Meadow grumbles as she takes another drink.

I do the same and I have to admit, it’s really not as bad as the last batch. Still, this one has too many floral notes for my liking. I’m just not sure if that means my ratio is off or if I used the wrong strain.

With a huff, I pout while flopping back against the couch dramatically. “I don’t know what to do. I just want it to be right.”

She looks at me for a long time. I can almost see her thoughts, and I know what she’s going to say before she says it.

“You don’t need to prove anything to us,” her words are filled with careful hope. “Why are you so hard on yourself over this?” She doesn’t give me a chance to answer, which isn’t surprising. “None of us think what you contribute to the business is less than anyone else’s contribution.”

I roll my eyes, trying to dismiss the way she hit the nail right on the head. I’m not running the bakery like Meadow. It’s a huge part of the business. I’m not running the dispensary like Greylin. Then there’s Mayer, the big kahuna.

There is no way I would ever pretend to be like Mayer. She’s the boss lady we need. I’m quite sure she’s the only thing holding us together most days. And we’re grateful for it. She needs an outlet for her control freak ways.

I’ve always been more go-with-the-flow.

It’s why I took on the event space and have tried to make it into something valuable within the business. It’s not used daily, and there’s not much I can do about that. Still, it’s used enough; I organize quite a few events every month where people can sign up and attend the evening’s activities.

Those are my favorite nights. It’s fun watching friends and strangers interacting and having fun without letting worry creep in. Having that time is a gift, and it’s something I completely appreciate.