by Marilyn Grey
Copyright
WINSLET PRESS
The Best of Fools
Copyright © 2015 by Marilyn Grey
SMASHWORDS EDITION
To learn more about Marilyn Grey, visit her Web site:
www.marilyn-grey.com
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, etc.—except for quotations in reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Contact the publisher at: [email protected]
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Dedication
To:
Laura Dobb
my real, live true British friend
Amazing how two people can meet, live across the ocean, never hug or laugh together over a cup of tea, yet be so closely linked together that you wonder if this friendship was somehow always a part of your life. I couldn't have written this book without you. Literally. You helped with little words and odds and ends to make Alistair a bit more realistic, since I've never been to England although we all know it's my dream. :-) Laura, you are such a beautiful person. So devoted and caring and compassionate and lovely. I love your humour. I spelled it with a U for you. :-) And I love the way you care for your son and your family. I love your joy and your "can do" attitude. You're a lot like Jane to me. You don't give up, no matter how hard it gets. And you try to keep going. To smile. To Live. And to love. You remind me of this book. The message at the heart of it.
Carpe Diem
I wish you a long, joyful life like that of The Best of Fools. And I hope our friendship only continues to grow until one day I am your neighbor and we can have a cuppa with a tea cake. :-)
Love you, duck!
Chapter 1
I stared at the box on my bed. Donovan gave it to me two days ago and I still didn't have it in me to open it, so I found a good hiding place in my closet and tucked it away. Then, on days like today, I'd stare at it and wonder. Maybe after graduation I'd open it. Only a few more weeks. Donovan could come over and be with me just in case it dredged up old memories I didn't know how to process.
Autumn knocked on the door and walked into my bedroom. "Heard from Don?"
"He emailed." I plopped on to my bed. "So far, so good. He said she's wonderful."
"Still can't believe you're letting him do this."
"Me? Letting him?" I laughed. "I told you, Autumn, I don't know ... fifty seven times now ... I am not in love with Donovan."
She tapped a picture of Donovan that I had taped to my mirror. "You guys are perfect for each other. I don't get it."
She continued looking at all of my photographs. Autumn and I had only been friends since junior year. She transferred to our school from Mt. Claymont, some private school up north, when her dad got a new job down here. Her guidance counselor, who happened to be mine as well, assigned me to be her "Welcome Buddy." We still joke about the title today. Instant friends, though. Just like Donovan and I eleven years earlier. Just like Alistair and I two days ago. Alistair Anonymous. Would I see him again?
Probably not. Life changes too much in four years. He'd probably forget anyway.
"Daydreaming about your British lover again?" She tapped the note I taped to my mirror, then double-looked. "Um, did you realize he put the wrong date?"
I walked over to her. "What?"
She pointed. "He said four years when you're twenty one. You'll be twenty two then."
"So did he mean four years or my twenty first birthday?"
"What if you pick the wrong day?"
I laughed. "It was a fun day, but not the best day of my life. I don't plan on actually showing up."
"You could always show up both years."
I shook my head. "Oh, right. That's so like me."
"I could show up for you."
"Go right ahead." I smiled and grabbed my purse from my dresser. "Let's go."
"You were dreaming of him, weren't you?" She poked my shoulder. "You didn't deny it."
"I wasn't dreaming of Alistair."
She let out a fake laugh. "Right."
My brother popped out of his room before we reached the stairs. Figured he would. He had a thing for Autumn and really, who wouldn't? Long, soft blonde hair that always seemed perfectly in place, topped off with completely unique and bright, bright green eyes, like emerald or something. She'd look amazing in a trash bag.
"Where you guys going?" Eddie—yes, after Edward from Sense and Sensibility—said. "Can I come?"
Autumn smiled. "Just going to the craft store so your old lady sister can get some more yarn for her knitting projects."
I lightly backhanded her arm. "I'll convert you to a knitter one day and you know it. You can come if you want, Ed."
Poor sixteen-year-old and heavily hormonal Eddie looked utterly confused. Craft store. Autumn. Tough decision.
"You coming back after?" he said.
I nodded.
"I'll see ya then." He disappeared into his room and Autumn and I walked out to the car.
"That's so cute," she said.
"Don't get any ideas."
"He's like two inches shorter than me."
"So are most guys."
"True, but he's a sophomore. I'd never...."
"Never say never. I spent my birthday with—“
"Amorous Alistair."
I laughed and opened the car door. "Exactly."
Autumn wasn't into knitting or sewing or anything crafty, but she suffered through my hour long journeys as I perused every aisle of JoAnn Fabrics. That's what friends are for.
I ran my fingers along a beautiful chiffon fabric and pondered using it for my prom dress, which I so predictably waited until the last minute to make.
"Not that one." Oh, Autumn. Reading my mind again.
"You sure you don't want me to make yours too?"
She shook her head. "I love your work and totally trust you for my wedding dress one day, but I already found the perfect dress."
"Can't wait to see it." I thumbed through a few more colors of possibility. "What color did you get? At least tell me that."
"Red. Deep red."
"That's going to look amazing on you."
She ignored the compliment as usual and stopped in front of a gorgeous green fabric, nearly the color of her eyes.
"Ooh!" I jumped in front of her and pulled the Emerald City sparkly fabric out, standing it between us. "This is it. This is totally one-hundred percent the one."
"No," she said. "It's pretty, but we'll be like a Christmas tree. If you're going to be my date there's no way I'm showing up looking like we belong at the North Pole."
I laughed. "That's hilarious. Good call. Hmmm..."
"How about this?" She pulled out a sparkly ivory chiffon. "Red and ivory would go well together."
I scrunched my face and slipped it back to the shelf.
"Black? Gray? Blue? Purple?"
"Gray could be interesting." I found a nice one and pulled it out, imagining what I'd create. "Yeah. I think I could do something cool with this. Just need a little white, black, and maybe a dash of red to match yours."
"I can't believe we're going to prom together." She smiled. "Not exactly the way I imagined it."
"It's not like you didn't have other options."
"Eh. I won't see any of those guys ten years f
rom now. It's a special night. I know we'll always be friends and I'd rather remember having fun with you."
"I so love you."
I stuffed the fabric under my arm and perused the aisles for the other things I needed. Autumn followed, looking deep in thought. I knew what she was thinking, but didn't want to bring it up. I'm a huge fan of not poking and prodding people. They'll open up when they're ready as long as you're there with open arms.
My phone beeped. I pulled it out of my purse and opened the new email from Donovan.
Hey Jazz,
Hope everything is well there. Maria and I are having an amazing time. I can't believe how much we've hit it off. I'm actually looking at colleges here now. I think she might be the one, Jazzy.... I'll be home tomorrow. See ya at the airport. Love you... Donovan
"What was that?" Autumn said.
I reread the email and lingered on that line. The line. She might be the one.
"What's wrong?" she said.
"What?" I slipped my phone back into my bag. "Nothing's wrong."
"I may have only known you a year, but you know you are my best friend and I can definitely tell something's wrong."
I grabbed the black fabric I wanted. "Nothing important."
Chapter 2
Saturday morning I fumbled out of bed and went back to the airport to get Donovan. I'd be lying if I said I didn't look around, wondering if Alistair was somehow still there. The memory of him hadn't left me, but it felt too unrealistic to be real. It reminded me of the guys you meet at the beach, kiss once under the stars, then say goodbye to and never see them again. So fun, but so important that you forget their name by the next summer.
"Guess who.” Donovan's hands covered my eyes.
I turned and hugged him as tight as possible.
"Miss me much?"
I squeezed harder. "That answer your question?"
He laughed. "Let me see the tattoo."
I revealed my arm.
"Nice."
"You like?"
He nodded. "Of course I do. It's part of you."
"Well, technically it's not part of me. Just ink inside of me. Kinda creepy now that I think of it that way."
He smiled. "Let's go. We have a lot of catching up to do and I'm starving."
"Starvin' Marvin."
He laughed. "Your old nickname."
"I didn't realize at the time what a disastrous thing it would be to wear that Marvin the Martian shirt."
We laughed.
"Yeah, and I rescued you from ridicule," he said. "I can't remember how though."
"Neither can I. So funny though. I was mortified."
"Yeah, but look what those things did to you. Now you're turning into a woman who doesn't need the world's approval to be who she wants to be."
"I hope so." I wanted to tell him that I looked for his approval, but suddenly I felt weird.
We got in my car and drove to Wendy's. His request. Then ate in the car as we drove back home. We didn't talk much for a while, then he randomly said, "So, tell me about your British lover, Jane Austen."
"Don't even." I threw my empty sandwich wrapper in his face as I stopped at a red light.
He threw it back.
A few minutes later I parked in his driveway. He grabbed the strap of his bags and looked at the house.
"I'm exhausted, Jazzy." He looked at me.
Why did my heart just stop beating for a second? Why did his eyes—out of nowhere—look ten times more amazing, like pools I wanted to jump into and explore. "Don't go home," I wanted to say. It felt like forever since we talked. Really talked. Plus, the box. I wanted to open it with him beside me.
"Want to go catch the sky?" he said. "Let me just go put my bags inside."
I laughed. "I never said yes. Won't it be a little weird now? I mean, aren't you taken now?"
"No." He looked down. "More on that later."
I followed him inside. Alyssa ran and jumped into his arms. He twirled her around as she buried her head in his neck and cried happy tears.
"Oh, come on, Lyssa. It wasn't that long." He set her down and she hugged his legs.
"Look who's back.” Mr. Slovak hugged Donovan, then turned to me. "And you too." My body disappeared in his bear arms. "You two hungry? Mom's making your favorite dinner."
"We just ate," Don said. "But I think we're gonna go for a quick drive and by the time we're back I think we'll be ready for that dinner."
I nodded.
Mrs. Slovak entered the living room as she wiped her hands on her "Kiss Me or Don't Eat" apron.
"Son," she said. "So glad you're back. Hi, Jane. How's your family doing? I heard your dad got a new job."
"It's not official yet."
She looked at Mr. Slovak. "We'll have to get together for dinner soon." She waved us away. "Go on and have fun for a bit while I finish up."
Donovan disappeared upstairs and jogged back down with a huge smile on his face. He was ten seconds from teasing me about my British lover boy. I just knew it.
We plopped back into the car when he finally made my guess a reality.
"So, when will you be moving to your English cottage with Alistair?" he said with his best English accent. Pretty much the worst version you'd ever hear.
I elbowed him. "Drop it."
He shrugged. "You aren't going to go back to the airport, are you?"
"Doubtful. He got the year wrong anyway. Said four years when I turn twenty one, but I'll be twenty two in four years."
"I don't like math either."
I stopped at the stop sign. "Usual place for sky catching?"
"You bring the box?" he said.
"No. Did you want me to?"
"Well, I want you to open it before we die."
I laughed and accelerated. "Guess it's the usual place, then."
We arrived after a short drive. I parked and met Donovan on the hood of my car. We reclined and watched the clouds stretch into long streaks across the blue background.
"You know," he said.
"Uh oh. A Donovan lecture is coming. Let me hide!"
He laughed. "Just saying one day you'll need to stop avoiding everything."
"Maybe tomorrow." I flashed him a smile.
He smiled back.
"So what happened with what's her name?" I said.
"Glad what's her name made such an impression that you remember her name so clearly."
"Hey, it's not like I met her!"
"Yeah, yeah. Everything was perfect until I was saying goodbye. She got real serious and told me it wouldn't work. She hates long distance. I was willing to move there, but I don't know. I get the feeling she still loves her ex."
"But then why..." I cut myself off and tousled his hair. "It'll be okay. Plenty of girls would love to be yours, Don."
"I don't want just anyone." He put his arms behind his head. "We're young. Plenty of time to figure things out. I had a great time though and it did help me figure out what I want in a woman."
I swallowed. Why was my mouth dry all of a sudden? "And what would that be?"
He tapped the roof of the car. "Can you believe we still come here as adults?"
"That's right, we're adults now. Eighteen. Wow. I feel like a kid still."
"I hope you always do." He pulled my wrist. "Come.”
Why did I suddenly feel trapped in a movie of my own life? Reeling on by as I watched from the couch.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled my head toward his chest. We were weird best friends who for years had odd platonic cuddle sessions. This one made me nervous though. Shy, even.
He held my head while I listened to his heartbeat. Then his breathing slowed. I watched my hand rise and fall on his chest until he did his twitchy thing. That's how I knew he was either asleep or very close to it. He fell asleep so fast. It always took me way longer.
He jerked and woke himself up.
"Whoa," I said. "You okay?"
"Plane was falling."
I laughed. "Do yo
u think it's weird that we do this?"
"Do you?"
"I asked first."
He laughed, bobbing my head with his chest. "I don't know. I guess it could be to some people, but we've been doing this for years."
I perched myself on one arm and stared at him. He looked back. We were so comfortable together, even inches from each other's lips. But since my day with Alistair something changed. Something in me. Maybe my hormones were reawakened.
Just fantastic.
"You aren't in love with me?" I said. "Seriously. Are you?"
He looked at me for a few seconds, calculating his response, then finally said, "Do you want me to be?"
I slapped his arm and sat up.
"What?" He sat beside me and pulled his knees to his chest, then hung his arms over them. "What's the right answer? Does Jane Austen want me to fall in love with her?"
"You are so annoying." I shook my head. "No, she doesn't. I just wonder how we can do this year after year, in between your girlfriends, and not have feelings for each other. It is kinda weird, isn't it?"
"I'm not complaining." He pulled me toward him. "I love you. Our friendship might be a little strange, but it works for us."
"You don't get the slightest bit turned on when you're here with me?"
He laughed.
"What?"
He shook it off and changed the subject, "You're in a bizarre mood."
"Are you saying I'm not attractive to you?" I teased.
"You're pretty much the opposite of beautiful."
I laughed. "I don't know. This Alistair thing has me screwed up. I mean, I felt things. His arm brushed mine and I felt things. When he walked away I almost went after him. Seriously, Donovan. This is sickening."
"Normal."
"Sickening."
"Normal. Welcome to the world of normal people with normal feelings."
"I don't want to be welcomed. Take me back to my world of abnormal feelings."
"Want to go get the box and open it?"
Oh, there they go again.
Donovan and I walked into my house to find my parents gazing into each other's eyes in the living room. Maybe even doing some kind of slow dance to music only they could hear.
