Something Lovely

by Brooke St. James

  "You're unbelievably nice," I said.

  He shrugged casually. "I'm just speaking the truth."

  Before I knew what was happening, he stepped around me, walked past me, and headed for the hallway.

  "Where you going?" I asked.

  "I thought we'd go out here with everyone else," he said.

  "Oh, yeah, of course."

  I followed Luke down the hall. I thought he would stand back and let me lead the way since it was his first time at the house, but he wasn't timid at all. He just assumed I would follow him, which I did.

  "Dad said you've been practicing your knife throwing skills." I heard Wes's statement as soon as Luke rounded the corner. Apparently, my brother thought I would be coming out first because he was talking to me when he said that.

  "I have," Luke said, knowing full-well that Wes's statement wasn't meant for him. "Chasidy wanted to learn how to do it, so I've been getting my chops together so I can teach her." We had both come into the living room by that point, and he glanced back at me with a smile. "But I think he was talking to you," he said. "Have you been practicing, too?"

  "I have," I said.

  Everyone besides my mother was sitting around the living room on couches and chairs, and Luke and I went in there to join them. He sat on the big sectional with Wes, Jolene, and his parents, and I took a seat on an ottoman near my dad, who was sitting in an armchair.

  "Dad built a target in the backyard, and I've been trying it out a little bit. I've been using Jolene's YouTube videos for instruction, but I think I'll do better now that she's here." I glanced at Jolene. "Speaking of... did Dad tell you about Uncle Gray wanting to hire you?"

  "I didn't want to bombard her," Dad said. "I was gonna give her a day to settle in before we start trying to put her to work all over town."

  "Does he need graphic design work?" Jolene asked since that was what she had done professionally in London.

  "We all need that," Dad said, talking about the Bishop company. "And Gray might need it at Alpha, too, but he was thinking about asking you to teach a few classes on knife throwing—you know, to the guys."

  Jolene glanced at her parents, who were sitting at the end of the couch, listening to the conversation. "Did I tell you about Wes's uncle?" she asked.

  "The one that has a bodyguard company?" Ginger asked.

  Jolene nodded.

  "It's called Alpha Security," Wes said. "Uncle Gray is ex-military—a lot of his guys are. He's got a pretty intense training facility. They provide personal security to anyone who's in the market for that kind of thing—musicians, presidents, the pope. He's got guys working all over the world. My oldest brother, Daniel, works for him. That's how he met Courtney."

  Jolene's parents must have been aware that our brother was married to the pop star, Courtney Cole, because they nodded in understanding when Wes made that statement.

  "Gray's got a two-year program," Dad explained. "The guys live right there on site. He trains them with weapons, martial arts, all kinds of stuff. He said they know how to use a knife, but he's never done an actual class on knife throwing."

  "Oh, Jolene would be perfect for that," Ben said.

  "Okay, the pizza's ordered!" Mom called, coming into the room from the hallway on the other side of the kitchen and not hearing anything we were saying.

  "Do you need us to go pick it up?" Ginger asked.

  "Oh, no, they're delivering it," Mom said. "They said it would be here within the hour."

  She crossed the room and, without hesitation, sat in the chair with my father. He shifted around, making room for her and then held on to her by the waist like they were a couple of teenagers.

  "I think it'd be fun," Jolene said, smiling at my dad.

  "What would?" Mom asked, glancing at Dad.

  "We were telling her about Gray wanting to hire her to work with the guys."

  "Oh, good," Mom said, nodding.

  "I know he's Wes's uncle," Luke said. "But how are you guys related again?"

  "I've got a twin sister named Jane," Dad explained. "She's married to Gray, and they own the security business."

  "There's a lot of you to keep straight," Luke said.

  My dad laughed. "Rose and I have four kids, and Jane and Grey have two. Between our kids and the grandbabies coming along, it seems like we're celebrating a birthday every time we turn around. Rose has brothers who live in town, too. One or two of them will probably be here tomorrow night. You'll meet so many people that you won't be able to keep names straight."

  "That's so neat," Ginger said. "We don't know what it's like to have a big family. Ben's an only child. I have a sister in Atlanta who has two grown kids, but we rarely have the chance to get together—especially since we moved to London."

  "Did you ever think about moving back?" I asked.

  Ginger smiled at me. "We think about it all the time," she said. "Even more now that Jolene's moving back." She paused and glanced at Mr. Wright with a little smile and shrug. "We kind of go where the wind blows," she said. "Ben's always wanted to live in Europe. There's so much rich history over there—such great art. He's had the opportunity to see so much of it since we've been there. He's traveled all over Europe, checking out museums. There are just so many classics."

  "I've even seen a couple of private collections that might as well be museums," Ben added.

  "You're a full-time professor, right?" Dad asked.

  Ben nodded. "I took a sabbatical two years ago and did nothing but travel and do research for six months. Ginger came with me for a lot of it. It was amazing. There's so much art over there."

  "And that's what you teach?" Dad asked. "Art?"

  "Art History."

  "Oh, how perfect," Mom said.

  Ben nodded. "I was in Amsterdam when I saw a Vermeer painting called The Milkmaid. It's just so beautiful. Really amazing. I had seen it in pictures lots of times, but it was a different experience to come face-to-face with it. I remembered seeing this documentary that speculated how Vermeer might have used a gadget to do his art, and seeing that painting in person set me off on this whole mission to try to do it myself—recreate it the same way the guy in the documentary did. That's been quite a project."

  "Wes and Jolene were telling us a little bit about that," Mom said.

  "I've seen that documentary," I said. "We watched it in an art class I took a few years ago. It was really cool. I'm not even into that kind of thing, and I remember wanting to try it myself."

  Ben smiled and nodded at me, lifting his eyebrows like he had been having lots of fun with it.

  "Did you do it?" I asked.

  He continued to nod.

  "Did it work?"

  "Pretty much," he said with a shrug. "I don't know if I'd call it a Vermeer, but it came out pretty close. It's definitely better than anything I could have done on my own."

  "It's really awesome," Luke said. "They both did a great job."

  "My mom had to sit there and model like that lady for I don't know how many hours." Jolene added.

  "Weeks," Ginger said, laughing. "Months even."

  "She was a real trooper," Ben said. "She had to stand there and hold this pitcher for hours at a time. We had to build a contraption to help her hold it up so her arms didn't give out."

  Ginger flexed her muscles. "I've got biceps for days after that experience," she said, causing us all to laugh.

  "I wish we could see it," Mom said.

  Ben got up from his place on the couch. "I've got some pictures in my suitcase."

  Chapter 4

  "Luke's got some pictures, too," I said.

  Luke glanced at me, and I smiled.

  "The ones you showed me of Amos's birthday," I said, even though he knew full-well what I was talking about. I knew he was still a little intimidated about meeting my dad and wasn't planning on breaking out the pictures just yet, but he was sweet, and I couldn’t help but put him on the spot a little. Honestly, it was neat for me to experience someone being starstruc
k over my father. I was used to seeing people freak out over meeting Courtney, and in recent months, I had seen my fair share of people come unglued over meeting Derek, but I had rarely, if ever, met someone who truly appreciated the work of my father and grandfather the way Luke did.

  "I'll show him sometime," Luke said casually.

  "Just go get them," I said. "He'll love seeing them." I glanced over my shoulder at my dad. "Luke brought some pictures of the guys at the London dealership," I said.

  "Oh, please go get them," Mom said. "Jesse and Doozy have been wanting to make it over there to see that location. We'd love to see your photos."

  Luke stood up and headed toward the bedroom to get his photos. Mr. Wright had left the room before Luke, so he beat him back, carrying the photos of the painting. I had been expecting just a few photographs of the finished project, but he brought a stack of at least thirty pictures, documenting the whole process. We passed around the stacks of pictures, asking Ben questions about his painting and asking Luke questions about his job.

  Ben Wright was an extremely nice man, but I couldn't help but notice that he wasn't overly excited about Luke working at a motorcycle shop. He had manners about it, and he didn't say anything offensive to Luke or to my father, but a few of the comments he made led me to believe that he thought Luke's current job situation was temporary.

  Maybe I was just protective of Luke because he was kind and charming, or maybe I had a soft spot for motorcycles in general, but either way, I was sensitive to every little nuance in Ben's tone, and I couldn't help but conclude that he thought Luke was capable of doing more with his life. It could be that I was just over analyzing it, though, and I told myself that.

  I looked at Luke's photos again even though I had seen them in the bedroom. Everybody seemed happy at the dealership. When I came to the one of Luke with Chasidy on his lap, I realized it still gave me odd feelings. Normally, I enjoyed seeing other people happy, but that girl just annoyed me. I knew those feelings were totally uncalled for, so I quickly shifted the picture to the back of the stack and looked at a few others to get a different image in my head. I was still flipping through them when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

  I leaned over, stretching out to hand the stack to my brother before taking my phone out of my pocket. Derek was supposed to be at my house any minute, so I assumed the text would be from him, but instead, it was from my friend, Britney.

  Britney: "What are you up to?"

  I typed out a text to her.

  Me: "About to eat with the fam. Derek's coming over. We're hanging at his house tonight."

  Britney: "What are y'all eating?"

  This was a question I had heard from Britney hundreds of times over the years. She and I had been friends since we were kids, and she had eaten countless meals at our house. Seriously. Countless. Britney didn't have the best home life. She wasn't abused or anything, but her parents didn't have much money, and they didn't really care about cooking meals and eating them as a family.

  She had an older sister that was already out of the house by the time we were in middle school, so it was really just her and her parents, and they weren't necessarily stand-up individuals. She went to college on a cheerleading scholarship and moved into the dorms, although a lot of nights she just stayed with me at Shelby's house rather than in her dorm room. To say she had eaten a lot of meals with my family over the years would be an understatement.

  I texted her back, knowing that once I told her we were eating pizza, she'd ask if she could come over. She loved pizza—especially from Mama Carlotta's.

  Me: "Pizza. Jolene and Wes got here today. Jo's parents are here."

  Britney: "I forgot they were coming home today. That's awesome. I bet Rose is in heaven. Do y'all care if I come by for pizza? I won't stay. I have nothing in my fridge."

  Me: "Come on."

  Britney: "Is it Mama Carlotta's?"

  Me: "Yep."

  Britney: "Yasssss!!!!! Be there in 20."

  I tossed my phone onto the ottoman next to me. "Britney's coming over for pizza," I said.

  Mom nodded as if this news didn't surprise her at all. "I thought Derek was coming, too."

  "He is. He'll be here any—" I trailed off because I saw the reflected light coming through the window as his truck pulled into the driveway. I got a giddy feeling in the pit of my stomach that caused a smile to spread across my face.

  I had a crush on him for so many years. He was older than me, and he was a local sports hero, so for what seemed like all of my adolescence, Derek Holbrook was basically unobtainable. We had been dating exclusively for three months, and I still felt like I had to pinch myself when he came around.

  I popped up from my seat, jogging across the living room and kitchen so that I could go outside and meet him.

  "Who's here?" Derek asked, pointing at Jolene's parents' rental as he climbed out of his truck.

  I smiled at the sight of him. He was tall and thick with the build of a professional athlete. He had on stylish, athletic clothes and a pair of tennis shoes that had not a single scuff on them—I swear he wore a new pair every day.

  "Wes got back today," I said, smiling at the smell of his cologne as he hugged me. "Jolene's family is here, too. They came to meet us and help her get settled."

  Derek looked toward the house even though he couldn't see anyone from where we were standing. "Are they nice?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "Are they British?"

  I shook my head. "They're from America. They've just been living in England."

  "How long are they gonna be here?"

  "Four or five days."

  "Why don't you just sleep at my house?" he asked.

  I smiled and squinted at him. It was definitely tempting, but I couldn't do it. Derek was insatiable, and I knew we would get in trouble if I stayed the night there.

  We walked in together, and I felt an undeniable sense of pride as I introduced him to Wes, Jolene, and her family. He was handsome with Southern charm, and he had the confidence of a man who had, for the last few seasons, been one of the MLB's most valuable players.

  During the introduction, my mom informed Jolene's parents that Derek played pro baseball.

  "Ben used to be a big baseball fan when we lived in the States," Ginger said.

  "Oh, really?" Derek asked cordially.

  "The Phillies," Ben said. "We lived in Philadelphia way back in the Mike Schmidt days. I used to love to go to the games. Even after we moved to Georgia, I used to keep up with the Phillies."

  "We devastated the Phillies last year," Derek said.

  His statement took us off guard and we all sort of looked at him with awkward, wide-eyed glances.

  Derek's face broke into a confident grin. "I'm just kiddin', they swept us."

  Ben, who hadn't been expecting to meet a baseball player, let alone get teased by one, let out a hearty laugh at Derek's joke. "You had me on that one," he said.

  Derek smiled as he sat on the ottoman next to me. "Philly had a solid team last year," he said.

  "What position do you play?" Ben asked.

  "Second base." He looked at my brother, who had stood to shake his hand, but was now sitting on the couch next to Jolene. "I played against this guy a time or two," Derek said.

  "Back in the day," Wes said.

  "Ivy said you were doing music now."

  Wes nodded.

  "Singer-songwriter or what?" Derek asked.

  "Pretty much," Wes said. "Maybe not as folky as that phrase makes it sound, but yeah, I write songs."

  "What'd your band think about you leaving?" Derek asked.

  "They weren't too excited about it," Wes answered with a shrug. "But what are you gonna do? Life goes on, I guess."

  Derek nodded. "Same with me, with people getting traded and stuff. You make relationships, and it's hard to leave, but it's part of the job."

  Wes nodded.

  "Ivy took me by the house y'all are renting," Derek added. "It
's not too far from mine. I'll have to have you over sometime soon. We could watch some football."

  "Sounds good," Wes said.

  Derek was the type who liked to keep the conversation going. He was like me in that he was somewhat restless and liked to make sure that there was continual action and that no one got bored. That's why it didn't surprise me that he was doing a lot of the talking. He turned his attention to Luke, who had been quietly observing the conversation. "So, you're Jolene's brother?" he asked.

  Luke nodded. "I am."

  "Older?" Derek asked.

  "Younger," Luke said.

  "What do you do?"

  "I'm a mechanic," Luke said.

  He was not at all embarrassed to say that. On the contrary, he was quite calm and confident.

  Ben, on the other hand, let out a nervous laugh. "He's working with motorcycles, on motorcycles, repairing them and rebuilding them." he explained. "He's got a job at the Bishop dealership in London for now. That's how Wes and Jolene met."

  "It's not just for now," Luke said, shaking his head a little and correcting his father in the most calm, respectful way possible. "I really love my job. I hope to get into designing and building."

  "You mean motorcycles?" Derek asked. "You want to design and build motorcycles?"

  Luke nodded, and Derek turned to glance at my father. "I think you're probably in the right house for that," he said.

  "I think you're probably right," Luke said. "I'm hoping it's something in the water, or Mrs. Bishop's cooking—I'm trying to soak it all in while I'm here."

  "Randall said you're really talented," Jesse said. "He said you had some designs of your own."

  "I do," Luke said.

  "We've got another young man at our Los Angeles location who shows promise as a designer, and one in Miami, I believe. Dad and I were talking about having a contest of sorts… maybe let anyone who wants to enter submit a design, and the winner would get their bike built in the new line."