A Home at Honeysuckle Farm: A gorgeous and heartwarming summer read. Christie Barlow

       Chapter 2

      Twenty-four hours later the warmth of the early evening air had enticed out most of the city dwellers and Molly and I were sitting on the comfy seats of the rooftop jazz bar overlooking the neon signs and giant billboards that illuminated the city. The clear, azure sky was the perfect backdrop for the skyscrapers that glistened in the evening light. I loved this bar, it was all gypsy swing, stunningly crafted cocktails and just a stone’s throw from the radio station where Molly worked. The ambience was perfect, with a low-lit interior, wall plants and fairy lights that draped the bar. The rooftop was small and intimate with a band playing on the little stage in the corner.

      Molly had talked me into coming out. It was her treat, she said but as her boyfriend Jay was the bar manager of this drinking establishment, we rarely ever paid for our drinks. Jay had reserved our favourite table and the moment he spotted us he beamed, then saluted us.

      Within seconds he appeared at our side with two prosecco cocktails balancing on a round silver tray.

      ‘Now that’s what you call service.’ Molly gave Jay a warm smile and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Can we open a tab?’

      He winked, ‘Not on my watch, you provide the smiles and I’ll provide the drinks,’ he replied with a sparkle in his eye before pressing a swift kiss to my cheek.

      ‘Deal,’ both Molly and I said in unison, then laughed.

      Molly had met Jay at this very bar nearly five years ago and they’d been the perfect couple ever since. He too was a proper New Yorker, born and bred, and his smile would be one I would miss when I returned to England.

      ‘Busy day?’ he asked, placing the cocktails on the table in front of us.

      ‘Yes, the radio show was fun tonight and missy here,’ she smiled towards me, ‘worked her last shift as a cleaner and has begun packing her case.’

      ‘Huh?’ asked Jay, puzzled.

      ‘I knew you weren’t listening to me when I was telling you!’ Molly jabbed him in the ribs in jest.

      ‘Telling me what?! I’m always listening,’ he tipped her a wink, ‘but maybe not at 3 a.m. when I’ve just finished my shift and all I want to do is sleep.’

      ‘Mmm, you’re forgiven,’ she answered playfully.

      Jay turned towards me, ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘I’m taking a trip … back to England,’ I answered.

      ‘I wasn’t expecting that,’ he said, cocking an eyebrow and sitting down on the arm of the chair. ‘Any reason why?’

      ‘My grandfather is ill, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve seen him. It may be the last time I ever see him,’ I said, giving Jay a watery smile.

      ‘Will you come back?’

      ‘Of course, I’m just unsure when at the minute, but I won’t stay away too long,’ I promised.

      ‘I will miss you, my Mary Poppins.’

      I smiled at Jay. The moment I’d first walked into the bar with Molly, Jay had guessed I was English. Over time I’d obviously picked up an American twang to my voice but there was still a hint of an English accent underneath. He’d called me Mary Poppins – a nickname that had stuck.

      ‘You too, Jay.’

      ‘When do you go?’

      ‘Day after tomorrow.’

      Jay fell silent and took a second to absorb this information. ‘So soon.’ He looked towards Molly whose eyes had misted over. ‘Drinks definitely on me tonight.’ He touched my arm tentatively before returning to the bar.

      For a moment, Molly and I stared out into the impressive night sky in silence, sipping our cocktails and lost in our own thoughts until she broke the silence.

      ‘Who am I going to drink with when you’re gone?’

      ‘You make it sound like you have no other friends! You have a whole gang at the station.’ I smiled at her.

      ‘It’s not the same though, is it?’ She poked out her bottom lip sulkily. ‘You’re my best friend.’

      ‘I’ll be on the other end of an iPad, we can FaceTime each other and I’ll be back before you know it.’ The words left my mouth, but they didn’t sound convincing, not even to myself.

      Molly pointed her index finger at me. ‘You’d better be, or I’ll come and find you.’

      Even though we’d both laughed it felt like there was an air of uncertainty hanging over me. Did I really want to come back to this life? I couldn’t see how my misery would change here, with the same old same old, day in and day out.

      The band in the corner were now in full swing and a jovial group of thirsty drinkers had arrived, enjoying the beginnings of a night at the bar. Jay was busy entertaining them and preparing their drinks.

      Molly eyed me carefully, the straw of her cocktail poised at her lips. ‘Do you want to talk about this afternoon?’ she asked. ‘I was surprised when I received the text.’

      I swung my gaze back towards Molly, swallowed hard and felt the colour drain from my cheeks. I knew it was the question she’d wanted to ask all evening.

      ‘I would have gone with you, you know,’ she continued smoothly, ‘you didn’t have to face it on your own.’

      That afternoon, I’d never been so nervous in my whole life. Auditioning for a lead role in a production was one thing – the nerves always kicked in – but that didn’t even come close to how I’d felt visiting Mum and telling her I was travelling back to England. My hands were sweating, I’d felt nauseous and I honestly thought I was going to pass out.

      ‘I know, thanks. But once I’d got it into my head that I was going, there was no stopping me. I had to get it over and done with.’

      ‘And dare I ask?’ Molly sat back to look at me carefully.

      Mum had opened the door with a beam on her face, then right on cue, made her usual comments, like how she wasn’t expecting me and to excuse the state of the flat. Of course, the flat was immaculate with not a thing out of place. Then, just like every other time when I’d turned up out of the blue, we had the usual spiel – if she’d known I was coming she would have fetched some groceries, etc., etc. I knew she was struggling to stay afloat as much as I was, and I’d often thought about moving back in with her but when I started college I’d become independent. I wanted to do things my way, I’d needed to grow as a person and going back to live with her would have been tiresome for both of us in such a small space.

      I drained my glass. ‘The subject of Grandie was difficult to raise, believe me. I felt like I was