Just Good Friends (Cheap Thrills Series Book 5)
Page 18
Something else became clear: the English language was always evolving, and the kids were using slang and new interpretations in everyday life. I was familiar with some of it, like ‘sick’ and ‘fat’ and ‘killer’, but when one of the kids had laughingly told another one to ‘go kill yourself’ I’d almost lost my breakfast, even though they swore it meant ‘shut up’. That’s when John came in and outlined the effect of seemingly innocent words on someone in a way they’d remember.
“You don’t know where your friend’s mind is at when you say something as serious as ‘go kill yourself’, do you? They could be struggling with a lot and even be considering doing just that. Sometimes there’s a new definition for a word that makes total sense, and you can just throw it around without a hard consequence coming from it, but it’s up to you to be sensible about it, too. Saying to someone ‘go kill yourself’ meaning that you want them to shut up isn’t sensible, it’s very dangerous.”
That lesson lit a fire under me and made me even more determined to achieve the qualifications I needed to be a school guidance counselor. I wanted to help pull kids back from the edge, help them when they felt like they couldn’t breathe, and give them the gentle push they needed to maybe even be the person who did it for someone else in the future. So, I was working my ass off at the school, doing a course, and doing a part-time degree at college, too.
And I was exhausted.
That’s why, when Garrett asked me to go for a walk with him and Clyde today—who’d just graduated from his new extended canine protection course—I jumped at the chance. We were near Christmas, it was cooler in Texas, there was a slight frost on the ground, and the whole place looked beautiful.
Just behind Piersville Police Department was a wooded area that led to a small lake if you walked far enough. When I say walked far enough, it was about two miles, and there was no way I was going that far.
We’d driven to park up in front of P.V.P.D . so we could walk around the building, with Clyde being hyper-vigilant beside me as he sniffed the air and looked around us. My boy had grown and reached about four inches below my hip when he was on all fours. When he was on his hind legs, excitedly giving kisses or begging for one of his favorite treats, he was almost the same height as me, but he was still my baby.
“How’s your arm feeling?” Garrett asked as we entered the trees.
I’d discovered that my newly healed arm was like a weather warning system for rain and the cold. Holy shit, did it ache.
Still, holding it out in front of me, I twisted it from side to side, like I was proving there was nothing wrong with it. “Not too bad.”
“Does it still smell like cheese?” he teased, making me blush.
Okay, I had a good reason for that. When I’d had the cast taken off a while back, one of the techs who I’d never liked had been the one wielding the small electric saw to cut through it. He’d dropped the fucking thing twice before he’d pressed it on the cast, so I was slightly out of my mind by the time it came off.
My anxiety also wasn’t helped by the fact that I’d made the mistake of looking up how many cuts and accidental amputations happened while casts were being removed, and the information I’d found had kept me up for two nights. Just to make it even better, the helpful internet people even had photos of it all right there for my viewing pleasure.
I went into that appointment a wreck. I’m talking nerves, stress, and sleep deprivation so bad that the world seemed slightly unrealistic and weird. Because of that, I had less control of what came out of my mouth than usual, and the relief when I didn’t have someone sewing me back up after it made it even worse.
I’d walked out of the room holding my arm in the air like it was a championship trophy to where Garrett was sitting with Raoul and Rose and their newborn twins. They had a checkup appointment there that day, and when Rose found out I was at my one, she’d demanded that they find Garrett to keep him company. More like she wanted to see the end result…
Standing up, Garrett had walked over to hug me. “How does it feel?”
Holding it up to my face, I turned it around to look at it, wincing at how shriveled and pasty it looked. “It feels good to be free, but does it look a bit weird to you? Do you think it’ll stay this skinny for the rest of my life? Remember when Popeye ate spinach out of the can, and one arm would go muscly before the other one?”
All three of them snickered, but it was Rose who picked it up as we walked out and examined it. “No, you’ll get your spinach arms equal, girl, but you need to exercise it.”
All day it’d felt like I was walking through molasses and like the world was a surreal place, so I was not in a good place in my head still, even with the relief that I still had two arms. We were just walking into the waiting area when she said it, so all of the poor sick and injured people heard me shriek, “There’s a demon in there?”
Thankfully I was in the presence of two well-known P.V.P.D. members and a nurse because they were able to just smile and wave at everyone as they led me out of the building and into the parking lot like nothing was wrong. As we cleared the doors, Garrett pulled me in for a hug and rubbed my back.
“She didn’t mean exorcize a spirit or demon, baby. She was talking about doing exercises to build up the muscles again.”
Shit, I should’ve known that especially seeing as how I had four printed out pages of the things in my purse. I blamed a lack of sleep, the internet, and my irrational mind taking over from the rational one. Oh, and also Timmy the twat who couldn’t hold onto the saw correctly.
Swallowing loudly, I pulled back and nodded. I could’ve explained it all, but instead, I burst into tears.
“I’ve got a cheesy smelling gimpy arm. It used to look like this one,” I held up my left one, “which I wouldn’t mind being gimpy because it can’t do much. It’s useless. I don’t want it to smell like cheese, though.”
Leaning around his brother’s shoulder, Raoul looked down at my skinny limb. “Huh, kinda does look gimpy.”
Lifting it, I stuck it under his nose. “Smell it. Cheddar, right?”
Most people would’ve backed away, but curiosity got the better of him, and he leaned in to sniff it. “More like Roquefort. Jesus that needs to be washed. Maybe try bleach.”
Those words were a blow to my heart that felt like it was going to fly out of my chest still. Pressing my face into Garrett’s chest, I started crying even harder.
“I k-k-knew it. I should’ve let him cut it off when he dropped the electric saw. T-t-the people on the internet said it could happen.”
It’s probably not a surprise to admit that I was banned from looking shit up like that. For the person who loved weird and random facts, it was a huge blow, but the isolation and stress of the last two years had obviously had an impact on me mentally. At least, that’s what I figured when I got home, and Garrett rationalized it all for me.
I’d started working on myself the next day on my first day at work—after sixteen hours of sleep—and slowly but surely, I was getting a better grip on my mental health and my strength. What was weird was that I didn’t struggle when it came to the kids, but sometimes it's easier seeing something for other people than it is for yourself.
“Stop thinking so deeply,” Garrett murmured, snapping me out of my thoughts as we waited for Clyde to stop pooping in a patch he’d decided on in the woods. “This is meant to be a relaxing experience.”
“I was just thinking about my cheesy arm,” I chuckled, pulling on two pairs of disposable gloves and getting a bag ready.
This was another area we’d worked on—poop. It seemed to have dominated way too much of our time, but finally, we knew what we were doing. Shit literally did happen, but it happened less if you didn’t mess around with a dog’s diet. Clyde was on one brand of dog food, and we were all much happier for it. Sheena also had a sensitive stomach, so the pediatrician had cut out certain foods from it, which meant no more accidents there either.
Snickering, he looke
d around us and then straightened up. “Nope, I can’t do it,” he clipped, snatching the bag out of my hands. “I need to show you what I’ve done.”
Poor Clyde had only just come out of his poop crouch, so his moment of relief ended when he felt the tension coming off his master. With an almost scooping motion, Garrett had the poop in the bag and was pulling me with his free hand back to the vehicle, Clyde walking close to my side.
I wasn’t exactly unfit, but I also wasn’t fit enough to jog through the cold air and not suffer as a result, which was why I was panting when we got to the truck. “What do you mean what you’ve done?”
Throwing the bag in the bed of the truck, he unlocked the doors and opened mine and Clyde’s. “In you go. I wanted to show it to you after we’d had a walk—when you’re exhausted,” he whispered to himself. “I’m nervous and excited, but I think you’ll like it.”
As he rounded the front of the truck, I belted myself in and looked in the back of the cab to see Clyde watching Garrett with a frown. “Think he’s got a guilty conscience about something, bud?”
Obviously he couldn’t answer, but that didn’t matter because Garrett had his door open and was in his seat with the engine running in seconds.
He was just about to reverse out of the space when he slammed his hands down on the wheel. “Okay, they broke ground on our house. There, that’s the secret.”
“We have a house?”
He’d bought the plot of land that he’d told me about after I’d fallen in love with it, but as far as I knew, we hadn’t picked a house yet. Had we?
“You kept going back to the one kit, so I ordered it with the additions you said you loved. It’s only the house itself, so all of the kitchen, bathrooms, and interiors are up to you to pick.”
That was so freaking cool!
Eyeing me cautiously, he noted, “You’re not pissed.”
This remark shocked me more than his revelation. “Should I be?”
“I don’t know. I had the contractor working on laying the foundations after it all went through before it hit me that I hadn’t told you what I was doing,” he blurted, sweeping his hand through his dark hair.
“I kept meaning to, but then I’d look at the list of things you said you wanted the house to have structurally and got excited watching the 3D image of how it would look change on the screen. Then they laid the foundations, the kit was delivered, they unpacked it…” he trailed off and swallowed awkwardly, just as Clyde stuck his nose through the gap between the seats. “It’s cool, buddy. Just me digging myself out of a hole.”
Grinning at how uncomfortable he looked, I tapped the wheel. “Let’s go see our new house, then. I don’t know why you’re pissed. I loved the kit you kept pointing out, and really it’s what inside that matters most to me.” I shrugged.
Staying quiet, he backed out and started driving us toward the land, looking at me every now and then like he was waiting for my composure to crack.
When we were five minutes away from our destination, it did. Not because of what he’d done, but because of what he kept doing.
“For the love of Moses, Garrett, cut it out. I love that you did this and wanted us to have a home even though we haven’t exactly discussed where we’re headed long term, but it gives me an idea that you see us going the distance. Which might I add,” I leaned in closer to him and snapped, “is what I want. Us having a place with this story attached to it is perfect for me, but if you keep looking at me like I’m going to explode—”
I looked at him, preparing to make a point somehow and stopping when I saw him laughing. “Are you laughing at me now? Are you high? Seriously, did y’all stop a shipment of weed or something and take some for yourself? I saw it on the news once, like five years ago, so I know that shit happens.”
I’d been so caught up in it all that I hadn’t realized we’d come to a stop until the automatic cut off in the ignition stopped the engine. Then, given how quiet the land was, with me not ranting anymore, all I could hear was the water and nature around us in the quiet cab of the truck. Oh, and Clyde’s panting. Lucky for him, all of Garrett’s laughter was still silent.
“Oh, nice. You look at me like I’m a psycho about to explode most of the way here, and when I do explode—just not for the reasons you thought I would—you laugh.” I threw my hands up in the air, then undid my belt and reached for the door. “Shit face.”
That’s when the silent laughter became the total opposite as I slid out, and it seemed to be magnified by the inside of the truck as I stomped toward where the house was being built, with Clyde panting happily beside me. He loved it out here, but I’d have to watch him with the stream because he got slightly carried away when it came to trying to bite the water.
The great thing about kit houses was that they were quick to put up, they came in all shapes and sizes, and when I’d requested that we have something added on, it hadn’t been an issue because the company we’d been looking at sold ‘extras’. It was just a matter of having permission, land, the installation of utilities lined up, using one of their contractors and their team to build it… Okay, there was a shit ton involved in building a kit house, but it was easier than designing your own and doing it that way from what I'd been told.
I wasn’t sure how long they’d been working on it for, but I know that Garrett had been dealing with having a sewage system installed, gas lines, and shit since we’d closed on the land the week after we’d viewed it. He’d wanted to be prepared, which was smart.
I’d been trying to figure out how to add toward it with some of the money from my grandparents' inheritance, so I’d missed a lot of what he’d organized while I went through all of my options.
The answers were in the planning. Garrett organized whatever needed done utility wise, we’d purchase the kit house, and if or when we needed my money to help pay for it, we’d come up with a plan for it. My income from the school paid for college, but when I got my inheritance, we’d be able to pay the loan for the house off completely. I couldn’t have my name on the house just now, and I didn’t want my fake name on it, so it would be added once all my shit was done and dusted.
In front of me were the foundations, with the basement that had been included in the planning. Coming out of it was a wooden frame and on either side of it were long, tall piles of wood and boards, covered in a blue tarp, and machinery was scattered in various places.
Seeing it all, I should be picturing our home, a place we’d chosen together. But my mind went blank as Garrett walked up behind me and wrapped me up in his arms.
“Do you love it?”
Shit, what do I say? “Uh, yeah. It’s gorgeous.”
Seeing as how he had his front pressed up against my back, I felt him stiffen. Apparently, I wasn’t so great at acting. Spinning me around and lifting my face with a hand under my chin, he frowned as he stared down at me.
“What’s wrong? You’re pissed, aren’t you?”
“No, definitely not pissed, just…”
“Just what?”
Pushing against his arms, I gained enough distance between the two of us to throw my hands up in the air. “I can’t remember which house we chose. There were so many in the book thingy, and then came all of the other stuff we could add in, the ‘oh, I wish’ items we threw out there, the fact I liked the idea of the sheep in the background of a couple of the photos—”
“We’re not getting sheep,” he muttered, watching me closely. “So, you’re acting weird because you can’t remember what house it is?”
Chewing on my thumbnail, I nodded. “Muh huh.” When he stayed silent, I chanced a look at him to see him looking down at me with a huge grin on his face. “Why do you look so happy?”
The next second, I was up in the air and being spun around in a circle while Clyde barked next to us, and I screeched. Come on, suddenly being in the air with no warning was a scary thing, so of course I screamed.
Finally, he lowered me back down again after he’d staggere
d slightly. “Sorry, I got a bit dizzy.”
“Serves you right,” I breathed. “What made you so happy?”
Even though he was still swaying slightly, Garrett managed to hit the target when he leaned down to kiss me softly. “You did. No matter what you do, you don’t conform to any rules or regulations. I love that even though I need routines and for there to be uniformity in my life, you come in and establish your own ones that blow mine out of the water.”
That didn’t sound so great. “And that’s a good thing?”
“It’s perfection. When Raoul and Rose got together, I remember Hurst telling me at Ellis and Jose’s party that the most perfect matches were when people were complete opposites. He used Lars and Tony as the best example and said that Lars is more quiet and stern, whereas Tony was flamboyant and full of energy. When they got together, Tony gave Lars a bit more life and made him break his own rules, and Lars helped Tony quieten down a bit and establish them for once.”
I’d gotten to know the two men and their daughters since I’d moved here, and I had to admit that they were the definition of perfection together. Like Garrett said, they suited each other perfectly.
“And you think I do that to you?”
“No, I know that you do. I’d have lost my shit if you’d done what I did, but you’re just excited about it. I’d also have known exactly which model we chose, but you only care about us being inside it. My life has been regimented for years, and even without being active military, I keep it that way.”—he really did, including the rows of perfectly paired socks that he kept lined up in a drawer—“You’re not untidy in any way, but you don’t care if things get mixed around or messed up. You just want to enjoy your day as much as you can. Since I came into your life, you’re more organized, and I’m more relaxed.”
Now I saw why he was so happy. “We’re kind of the perfect match.”