And yet nothing I can say or do, keeps me from peering off into the distance towards his house a dozen or so times. Honestly, I’ve lost track at this point. Each trip from the barn to the feed bins or the haystack, it’s like clockwork. A mental berating and a laser look glare that makes me feel pathetic every time. Is he thinking about me, like I’m desperately trying not to think about him?
Dream on, Izzy. It can’t be that simple. Not when he already has everything he could ever want. Thinking about him, is going to bring me nothing, but trouble. I have to find a way to forget last night, and the words that he said. If what I heard on the radio station is right, he has a girl waiting for him back at home, which would make his confession null and voice. A lie to make me feel special again, like I did back in high school. As good as it feels to be seen by Alex finally, the pain that will follow it, if I went down this dark, spiraling rabbit hole isn’t. I just have to keep busy and avoid him at all costs. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? Not when I turn around to dump out a bucket and find him standing in the doorway of the barn. Easier said than done, it turns out, when Alex is embodied persistence.
“Need any help?”
“I’m fine,” I coarsely growl. What I really want to say is get the hell out of my barn, but Dad is in earshot, and I’m not about to get another lecture from him on politeness. I stalk past him towards the sink, dumping the sudsy bucket, from the morning teat washing, into the drain. The bucket slips from my hand, and dirty water sloshes over the side and all over the front of my shirt, as I curse under my breath.
“That’s one way to take a shower, Iz.”
“I don’t need commentary from the unwanted guest peanut gallery,” I spit back. A grimace flashes across his face, and pangs my insides with guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“That’s why I’m here. Well, that and to return your mama’s pie plate.” Alex steps farther into the barn, joining me at the sink. “I might be a little rusty, but I think I can still handle milking a few cows.” His large hands reach into the water, retrieving the bucket and giving it a rinse. I try to snatch it back, but he stops me, putting it on the drying rack above the sink, and out of my reach. He smiles, knowing damn well I’ll have to go get a stool to get that down later.
“Seriously?” I frown at him. “Are you trying to keep the annoyance train, rolling full steam ahead, McCloud?”
“Can’t help it. It’s what I do.” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “What’s next?”
I start to tell him that his ass leaving this property is what will be coming next, but I know that he will just keep coming back. And he thinks I’m stubborn. My pig-headedness is nothing in comparison to his. For example, when we were kids, he got this wild burr up his ass about jumping off the Devil’s Backbone Bridge. I spent an entire summer trying to keep him away from it, but what did he do? He did it anyways, and what did he have to show for it? A broken arm. If Alex is going to be my own personal pest, I might as well use it to my advantage.
“How do you feel about manure?” The look on his face is priceless. It’s a mixture of regret for asking and disgust. Let’s see just how much country boy is left in him. Surprisingly, he doesn’t back down from the absolute worst job in this business. He cleans all the inner stalls without a single grimace or gag, which semi-disappoints me. I had at least hoped for one of those things to happen. Revengeful payback, after yesterday’s laugh, at my expense. A girl could dream, right? Obviously not, in this case. Alex finishes up in the barn I’m working in, and then heads out the door to the other barn with a wheel barrel and scoop shovel in tow.
I suck in a deep sigh of relief with the distance between us. His idle chatting, while scooping shit, nearly sent me over the edge. For Alex, nothing has changed. We are still two best friends, working on the family farm, and not two strangers. It’s as if the last four years didn’t exist. For me, on the other hand, it’s the exact opposite. I feel every single one of them. How does he not see that? It’s not long, before he comes back with the wheelbarrow and Dad in tow.
“You can take the boy out of the country,” Dad smiles with a slap to Alex’s back. “But you can’t take the country out of the boy. Lizzy and I appreciate the help.”
I roll my eyes. He might, but me? No. The only thing country about Alex is the award sitting on his mansion mantle back in Nashville. Shoveling a few piles of shit, doesn’t give him the right to claim that title anymore. Singing songs about living the country life is not the same, as struggling every single day to keep your family fed and business afloat.
“You invite him to stay for lunch yet, Izzy?” Dad asks with a pointed stare, checking to see if our little talk last night had sunk in.
“She did,” Alex lies coolly. “But I declined. I have some business in Louisville to take care of. I was about to ask Iz to come along with me.”
What in the hell did he just say? Come with him to Louisville? The fumes from the manure must really be affecting his brain.
“I really don’t think…” I start, before my dad cuts me off.
“I think that’s a fine idea. I had planned on going this weekend to get a few parts for the milking machine. It’ll save me some time, and it’ll be a good chance for both of you to catch up.” The only catching up I want to do is my fist catching up with his stomach for getting my dad involved in his scheme. Alex knew damn well that Dad would agree to it. Hell, he had probably already brought up the idea to him, while he was in the other barn. I glare back at my dad. First, Mom and Pete, and now him? There’s family betrayal all around me. This has to be how Caesar felt, when all his friends usurped him.
“Great. So, pick you up in an hour?”
“I guess,” I mutter out, before he bids us all goodbye and bounds off for his house. Dad watches him leave with a proud smile plastered all over his face.
“He’s a good guy, Lizzy. Give him a chance.”
“Not like you two gave me a choice in the matter. You two plan this together?”
Dad gives me a playful shrug and grin. Yeah, that’s what I thought. Two peas in a conspiracy pod.
7
True to this word, Alex arrives just about an hour, after he left. A large, silver Dodge Ram kicks up dust in the driveway. I halfway expected him to honk the horn outside, but I spot him coming up the front steps, bringing me back to when he picked me up for Senior Prom. The day that started the entire downward spiral of our friendship. He knocks quietly on the door, and Mom asks him to come in. Seeing his blue-button down shirt and dark jeans, I instantly feel underdressed. He didn’t precisely allude to what his business in Louisville was, so I didn’t think to dress up for the occasion. Jeans and a Thor t-shirt seemed appropriate at the time.
“I think I need to go change.” I start to leave to head towards my bedroom, when he interjects.
“You look perfect, Iz. No need to change for me.” Hidden meaning lingers behind his words. “Ready to go?” He asks with excitement in his eyes.
“As I’ll ever be,” I mutter. Getting my phone off the kitchen charger, I slip it into my purse and throw it over my shoulder. Mom bids us both a safe trip, before I follow Alex out the door. His truck is covered in chrome accessories with a lift in the chassis.
“What? No driver today, country star.”
“Gave Jeeves the day off. You’re stuck with me. And before you ask, there is no Jeeves.”
Alex walks around to the passenger side of the truck, and then opens the door for me. I peer up at it, trying to decide how in the hell I’m going to get up there without involving his hand pushing my ass in it. With a deep breath, I plant my foot on the edge and climb in, and a flash of disappointment flickers across Alex’s face. Sorry, pal. No grab ass today. He closes the door behind me, and walks over to the driver’s side, climbing in with ease. The engine roars to life, rumbling the entire cab.
“I drive, so you get the radio.”
“How magnanimous of you.”
&nb
sp; “I’m the poster child of hospitality, unlike someone else I know.”
I don’t answer because the truth is hitting a little bit too close to home. Instead, I lean forward and flick the stations, settling on an XM radio light rock station. Black Stone Cherry’s “Hollywood in Kentucky” fills the cab. Ironic really, given who is sitting next to me. Alex looks at me with a cocked brow. “Thought you liked country?”
“I do, but I like rock, too. Country can get a little boring, after a few songs. I like to mix it up a bit.” Why would I want to listen to country with a bona fide country music star behind the wheel? The fact that he doesn’t want to sing the hour drive to Louisville is a bit surprising. The way he’s been showing off the last two days, it would have been the icing to the ego cake to sing me one of his hits.
“I think I should be taking offense to that, but I’ll let it slide. Just this once though,” he jokes. “Let’s hit the road.”
The miles fly by, and we ride in nearly awkward silence only speaking, when something sparks a memory from our childhood. Hearing him gleefully talk about things in our past, both makes me smile and my heart ache. I wish I could feel happy about discussing it, but I can’t. Alex’s side of going down memory lane is a much different perspective than mine.
“Do you miss it?”
“Miss what?” I ask back.
“High school.”
“Lord, no. Not one bit.” I honestly declare with a laugh. “Worst years of my life. I wasn’t the cock of the walk, like someone else.” Alex winces and then quiets. “I’m sorry, I just meant that high school wasn’t the same for me, as it was for you. I wasn’t Miss Popular. I was Mr. Popular’s awkward, best friend. You lived in the spotlight, Alex, I didn’t.”
Alex reaches over the seat and lightly grasps my hand in my lap, as he peers over briefly. “You weren’t that for me, Iz. You were never second in my eyes.” I jerk my hand away from his. I want to say something, anything to argue with him, but I can’t find the words. It’s like he knows how to counter every statement I make with words that make me feel completely different. Is it the determination in his voice? The confidence of every single comment coming out of his mouth? It’s unnerving to think Alex seems to hold the keys to the backdoor into my mind, sneaking in whenever he needs to prove me wrong or to lower my walls.
Louisville comes into view, and Alex takes an exit, heading deep into the city’s center. “Where are we going?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.
“You’ll see,” he broadly smiles back. He takes two more turns, before pulling into a hospital parking lot. He maneuvers his truck to a gated area and flashes his ID to the guard. The gate moves up, and Alex drives us through, finding a parking spot near the door. He jumps out of his side of the truck and appears next to mine, opening the door with his hand extended out. My feet hit the concrete floor with a hard thud, and he doesn’t release my hand. Instead, he pulls me firmly behind him with a watchful eye to the openness behind us.
“What are you looking for?” I question, when we make it to the door.
“Paparazzi,” he answers flatly. “They always seem to know where I am, before I even do.” We rush inside and find an open elevator, as Alex tightens his grasp on my hand, pulling us both inside.
“Why would the press follow you to a hospital?” He presses the button for the fourth floor. “Better question, why are we at a hospital?”
“I’m here to see a friend.”
The door opens on the fourth floor, preventing me from asking anything further. Alex, with his hand in mine, leads me from the elevator. I notice a sign above the door that reads pediatric oncology, and my stomach begins to twist in a knot. He releases his grip on me, when a nurse in a blue uniform greets him.
“Alex, it’s good to see you,” she remarks happily. “And you brought a friend.”
“I did. How’s Brady?”
“Been a rough couple of weeks, but I think he’ll perk up, when he sees you.”
“Can we go on in?” Alex cautiously asks, looking off down a hallway full of rooms closed off with curtains and a sound of machines beeping.
“Go right ahead, honey. He just had some labs drawn, so I’m betting he’s awake.”
Alex nods, as he reaches back for me. He tugs gently, but hesitation builds inside of me. I follow along behind him, until he stops outside of a door, and I pump on my brakes, locking me in place. “Alex, I don’t think I should go in with you.”
“It’ll be fine. I’ve told Brady all about you. He really wants to meet you.” He has? Why? Alex knocks quietly, and a soft voice calls out ‘come in.’ We press on inside, and I close the door behind us, while Alex steps farther inside and around the drawn curtain.
“Alex!”
I step around the corner and find a young boy, no more than ten years old, in a blue hospital gown, lying in a bed all alone. His face is full of excitement, and his bald head is gleaming in the light of the sun, coming from the windows. He and Alex exchange casual conversation, but my eyes can’t help but notice the numerous wires strung across his body, as sadness rolls over me. Cancer in someone so young really makes me want to question how God’s will works. No one should have to go through this. Absolutely no one.
“Brady, this is my friend, Iz.”
“Hey,” he says with a half-smile.
“Hi,” I squeak out.
“She’s pretty,” Brady remarks with a wink. “I like her.”
“Ain’t she?” Alex takes a few quick steps closer to Brady, finding a spot on the edge of his bed that’s not taken up by the lines. “Told you she’s real.” He peers over his shoulder back at me, before turning his attention back to Brady. “How are you feeling? Been giving the nurses hell?”
“You know it.” Brady flashes a genuine smile Alex’s way. A smile that, if you didn’t know he was sick, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. The two of them begin to whisper about sports, and I space out, taking in Brady’s room. The bright colored room is filled with handmade artwork along the walls, balloons, and a few teddy bears that are scattered along the window that faces another building. It’s not the best view for a kid, but my heart aches, when I notice a guitar, leaning against one of the armchairs in the corner of the room. It’s Alex’s guitar from his high school band. If he gave it to Brady, they have to be close.
“Do you really live on a farm?” Brady asks, peering around Alex, snapping me back to attention. “With all kinds of animals?”
“I do,” I declare with a few steps closer to him. “I live on a dairy farm. Mostly cows, but you never know what my mom will bring home from a county fair.”
“Like that donut eating albino donkey she just had to have.” Alex smiles, reminding me of the final time Dad let her go to a livestock auction unsupervised.
“No way, really?” Brady beams, as Alex nods his head in agreement. “Can you really tip a cow?”
“You can, but it’s not good for them.”
“But you can play in the mud with them. Isn’t that right, Iz?” I shoot Alex a leave it alone glare, but Brady starts to laugh, as Alex begins to tell him all about Mooella, and I’s sordid past. Brady giggles non-stop, as he continues with one story after another, until finally wrapping up with the latest in the Mooella saga. Two can play that game.
“Brady, has Alex ever told you the story about the time he mooned an entire bus full of kids, when we were in junior high?” Brady’s eyes go wide.
“No!” He exclaims. “What happened?” Alex shoots a glare, and I give him a smirk. You tell stories, well so do I.
“Alex was trying to climb this ancient tree that we have on our property. I tried to tell him that the branches wouldn’t hold him, but he didn’t listen.” Brady leans forward, listening even harder. “So, he gets about halfway up, when one of the branches he was standing on snaps. He fell down a few rows of branches, until one caught his belt and pulled down his pants. Just in time for the school bus to drive by on the way to a softball game.”
“Did they laugh?”
“Oh, yeah. Alex was known for an entire year, as the school bus mooner.” Brady bursts out with a loud and contagious belly laugh, and Alex tries to give me a look of disdain, but fails the more Brady goes on.
“Sounds like you three are having fun.” The nurse from the hallway mutters, when she sneaks around the corner. “Got everything ready for you, Alex.”
“Thanks, Jackie. We’ll be right down.”
Jackie goes to Brady’s bedside, taking some of the lines and hooking them onto the IV pole. “You two go on down. Brady and I will be along shortly.” Alex slides from Brady’s bed, grabs the guitar, and takes me by the hand again. “Showtime.”
The show time being an impromptu concert in the art room. Children of all ages, the nurses, and their parents gather around, while Alex plays his old guitar and sings songs. Not just his greatest hits, but a few classics. The kind of songs he used to play me, when he was taking guitar lessons. I can’t help but notice the smiles on all of the faces surrounding us. His music is helping them forget about their pain, their procedures, and from their worries. He finishes up one final song, before the children and their nurses scatter in different directions. I watch quietly, as Alex gives his guitar back to Brady with a hug, before Jackie disappears down the hallway with him, leaving the two of us alone again.
“That was beautiful. The kids really seemed to like it,” I observe truthfully. “Is this a part of your contract?” A question that as soon as it leaves my lips, I regret in an instant, when his face falls.
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