Best Friends in the Show Me State

by Jessie Gussman

  She nodded, setting the plate of bacon down next to the one of eggs over easy.

  Clark walked over to where Huck stood at the counter, a look of intense concentration on his face. “She put you to work, bub, buttering toast?”

  “It was the only thing Kylie thought I could do without eating it while I was doing it.”

  “And he already licked the knife off twice. Which is really gross.” Kylie’s nose wrinkled up as she threw away the last of the eggshells, and she did look a little like she was going to be sick.

  Clark suspected that part of Marlowe’s new determination to not be so bossy and uptight stemmed from the fact that she could see a lot of herself in Kylie. Nothing like seeing someone else mimic you to see your flaws clearly.

  “So I guess you’re not having toast for your breakfast this morning, Kylie?”

  “Mom said we probably already have the same germs since we spend so much time together. But if it were anybody else, there’s no way I would eat after they licked the knife.”

  “But I like butter. It tastes good.” Huck still looked a little confused, like he wasn’t quite sure what exactly the problem was with licking the knife, even if he was in the middle of buttering toast.

  “Huck, maybe you and I’ve been baching it for too long. We’re about to be invaded. It doesn’t feel good to be uncomfortable, but it might be good for us.”

  Their styles were so different – that’s part of the reason they got on so well, because they complimented each other – it would definitely be an adjustment.

  “Uncomfortable doesn’t even begin to describe it. However, it will probably be good for all of us. Right, Kylie?” Marlowe gave her daughter a raised brow and a tilted head.

  Kylie’s lips pressed together, but she nodded slowly. “That’s what you said earlier. I think it’s one of those things I’m too little to understand right now.” She smiled sweetly, if a little superiorly, to her mother.

  Clark had to press his lips together and turn away from it. He wasn’t going to laugh and encourage her little girl sassiness, mimicking words she’d probably heard a million times back at her mom, but she was also probably right.

  They couldn’t expect a five-year-old to understand how living with someone who is different than you were could actually make you a better person. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure he understood that, although he could see the wisdom in it.

  Marlowe let the comment slide, and she turned back to the stove to grab something. It was when she did that that his eyes caught on the curve of her waist, and he realized she’d changed her clothes.

  She worked behind the counter at the feed store, so she never went to work dressed to the nines, like someone in the city might. But she had on a pair of khaki pants and a T-shirt that somehow showed her curves but wasn’t tight, and he was sure the outfit probably wasn’t intended to be sexy in any way or provocative. But somehow his eyes lingered and admired the graceful way her arms moved and her body turned. Remembering the rightness and the comfort of having her pressed to him last night, and also remembering the heat he’d felt that had been unexpected in so many ways but also felt exactly right, his eyes followed her as she sat down.

  It wasn’t until she repeated herself a second time that he heard what she said. He shook himself.

  “Yes. Of course. I’ll pray.” He bowed his head and said a simple prayer, remembering to thank God for their safety and the safety of the people in their community, as he hadn’t heard of a single life lost last night, although there had been plenty of people who’d ended up like Marlowe this morning, taking off work to call the insurance company and hoping to get a few valuables out of their home before it was condemned.

  In his heart, he said a much longer prayer, because he was extremely grateful that Marlowe and Kylie had been with him in the cellar last night and that God had kept them safe along with Huck. The three people he cared about most in the world.

  He picked the eggs up and helped both Kylie and Huck get one before he put two on his plate.

  That last thought made him blink and sink deeper into contemplation. Did he really care more about Marlowe and Kylie than he did about his own brothers and parents?

  He hadn’t really consciously ever given it a thought before. Of course, he knew he cared about her. But more than his parents? His brothers?

  Those thoughts were kind of uncomfortable, as uncomfortable as the idea that he had been staring at his best friend, and remembering the heat of their bodies being pressed together, and thinking that he might want to touch her again.

  “Wonder how long it takes for the adrenaline of last night to wear off. You look that up?” He thought his question was casual. It had to be why he was thinking these weird things about his best friend.

  He’d never been tempted to touch her, never thought of the heat between them as attraction, never had any ideas in his head like that at all. She was just kind of one of his siblings. Only now he wasn’t having sibling thoughts about her. He didn’t have any sisters, but he was absolutely sure that if he did have a sister, he wouldn’t be staring at her across the table, admiring her, wanting to touch her again. That was just gross.

  So yeah, definitely not sisterly thoughts.

  “I’m sorry. I never did look that up. I do feel a little shaky this morning though. I’m not eating much because my stomach still feels a little odd. I don’t have to go in to work until dinnertime, but I don’t want to be sick and unable to talk on the phone.”

  He nodded. “That makes sense. What time does your ladies’ gossip session start tonight?”

  “You can have a little respect in your tone when you talk about the ladies of the town getting together to do good for the other residents of our community. Which is more than what was happening last night at your boys’ gossip session.”

  “Hey, we get together and do good too. It’s not easy to be a single dad raising a kid. We support each other. That’s what a support group is.”

  “Hmmm.” Marlowe didn’t need to say anything more; she just raised her brows at him before she put a bite of egg and bacon in her mouth.

  They grinned at each other over the table. They’d eaten plenty of meals together before, but this felt just a little different to him, and he wasn’t sure exactly why.

  Chapter 7

  “There’s some man and a blond chick that looks an awful lot like your ex standing on your front step. You might want to get yourself home and figure that out. She doesn’t look very happy.” Reid’s voice crackled over the two-way as Clark lay under the planter, tightening a bolt.

  His two-way was sitting on the toolbox. It was too far away for him to answer right away.

  If he were a swearing man, he’d have some choice words to say under his breath. But typically, he wasn’t, so he just took his frustration out on the bolt, yanking extra hard and stripping it out. Doggone it, it was the last one too.

  He wasn’t going to be able to get this planter fixed until he made it to the hardware store. Unless Marlowe would stop and bring one home. He pulled his phone off the clip on his side and shot her a text.

  Her reply came back immediately.

  Sure.

  He knew he’d have what he needed by suppertime tonight.

  That didn’t solve his bigger, more pressing problem.

  He’d forgotten all about his ex saying she was coming to visit.

  Normally when she came, she stayed in a hotel, but because of the storm...he was betting they were full, which wouldn’t have been a problem, except, if Dana was going to be in his home, he’d stay at Marlowe’s house for a few days. Or with his brothers, one of them. Or his parents. Anyone.

  But he could hardly bail on Marlowe the first day she’d moved in.

  Rats. This was awful timing.

  Sitting around and fussing about it wasn’t going to help the situation. So he slid out from under the planter and straightened. Picking up the two-way, he pressed the button. “Thanks for the warning.”

&n
bsp; “Try to contain your happiness. I can’t stand it.” The voice sounded like Zane, but sometimes he had trouble distinguishing between Zane and Loyal. They sounded similar.

  Regardless. Neither one of them would be happy if their ex showed up either. He had a good mind to say that, but he didn’t. It seemed kind of petty.

  “I got the planter done, except for one last bolt which I just stripped out. I’ll come back over tonight and finish up. Might be dry enough tomorrow to get in that piece next to Hutchison Lane.”

  “Ha. Yeah, I wonder why you stripped that last bolt out. Probably didn’t have anything at all to do with Dana showing up.” That was Reid again, and Clark ignored him.

  He loved his brothers, but none of them had seemed to have very good luck in the marriage department. He believed it seemed to be best for the males in their family to go solo.

  Their mother might have had something to do with it. She was a perfect farmer’s wife, and in his experience, he and his brothers had all picked out someone exactly opposite of her. He wasn’t sure why.

  Stupidity?

  It didn’t take long for him to wash his hands and jump in his truck. It wasn’t that far to the farmhouse. Dana and the man—he assumed it was her new husband—were still there. What was the guy’s name?

  Clark tapped the steering wheel as he pulled in the driveway. Maybe it was Cody?

  Dana would definitely be angry at him if he couldn’t remember. Not that he’d ever met the dude. But if Dana mentioned it, even in passing, she expected him to remember it.

  He was all about living up to expectations and all that rot, and when they were married, he had really tried to. But seriously, no one could be expected to remember every single thing that someone had ever told them.

  Particularly the name of the man who took his place.

  It wasn’t really that he was still in love with Dana. It was just the idea that when he got married, he’d expected it to be forever. It was still a sore spot in his heart and life that it hadn’t been.

  And like most divorcees, her remarriage had been the final nail in that coffin. He couldn’t deny that it had hurt. More than he expected.

  But that was months ago, and he should be happy that Dana was here to see her son. Huck would be thrilled. It had been so long since he’d seen his mother last he’d even stopped asking about her.

  “Where were you? We’ve been waiting outside! You knew I was coming today. I told you two weeks ago.” Dana’s perfect red lips were set in an angry, thin line, and her eyes were narrowed. Her hands sat on her narrow hips.

  “Sorry.” He forced the word out of his mouth. It was what she expected. He didn’t want to be fighting when Marlowe showed up with Huck. Which would be anytime. “You could’ve gone in. The house is always unlocked.”

  “I know the house is always unlocked.” Dana jutted one hip out. “I think you locked it on purpose today. Because it is most definitely locked, and I can’t help but think that it was just some petty little thing that you did to make my life miserable. Isn’t that a bit childish even for you? Can’t we move beyond these little games that you play?”

  She did that long blink thing with her eyes and a little sniff with her nose, the expression he always kind of thought made her look like a rhinoceros with allergies, but he assumed she thought it made her look like she was better than him.

  Whatever.

  “I did not lock the door on purpose. Maybe the handle’s just stuck.” He indicated the yard and the tree and the wreck that used to be Marlowe’s house. “Things were a little crazy around here last night.”

  He didn’t think his house actually shifted on its foundation. He hadn’t felt anything like it, but he had no other idea why in the world the door wouldn’t open.

  And then it hit him. Marlowe would probably have locked it on her way out this morning. He refrained from rolling his eyes. Of all the days. But he knew that was exactly how Marlowe was. She probably didn’t leave the house to go get the groceries out of her car without locking the door behind her. Not that there was anyone around to actually go into their house. She was careful that way.

  It irritated him, but at the same time, he thought it was cute too.

  Today, it bit him. Because Dana was already mad at him, and they’d barely spent sixty seconds in each other’s presence.

  As he walked up the walk, trying to remember what he had done with the spare key, he held his hand out. “Name’s Clark. I take it you’re Cody?”

  “Yes.” Cody held up his hand in a “stop” gesture. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring my mask today, because Dana assured me I wouldn’t need it. But I’d prefer not to touch you. Germs, you know.” He gave one of those fake face-crunching looks, where Clark figured he was supposed to assume the guy was sorry when, in reality, he really wasn’t.

  Clark didn’t see the point, but he dropped his hand and nodded anyway. Relieved that at least he’d been right about the name. Hopefully they didn’t ask him for the last one, because he really had no clue.

  Unhooking his phone, he sent a quick text up to Marlowe.

  Where is the house key?

  Seriously? You don’t know where your house key is?

  Dana is here. Please.

  Flower planter. Left side. Corner brick. Under that. Good luck. I’m just leaving the school. You want me to get lost on the way home?

  He was already walking toward the brick, and he laughed out loud. Marlowe would have his back. She might lock his house up tighter than a maximum-security federal prison, or at least as tight as the lion cage at the zoo, which was more like what it felt like right now, with Dana on his property, but Marlowe would support him. Whatever he needed, she’d be there.

  No. She’s here to see Huck, I’m sure. You could probably stop and get him a soda on the way home. One with a lot of caffeine. Maybe she won’t stay long.

  He was being sarcastic, and he was pretty sure Marlowe would know that. She wouldn’t give Huck caffeine or soda. Neither one was good for him, and Marlowe was all about healthy kids. Still. If it weren’t for wanting to protect Huck at all costs, he’d be tempted to do it himself. Anything to get Dana to leave sooner rather than later.

  He thought she said she was staying for three days. Maybe it was two. At the time, he hadn’t worried about it, but with Marlowe here, and him unable to leave, it made a little bit more of a difference.

  “I was going to stay at a hotel. But they’re all full. Apparently, there was some kind of weather event here last night?” Dana put her nose in the air. “You guys make such a big deal about the weather, when there’s so many more important social issues that we should be concerned about.”

  Dana was right there. They did do an awful lot of talking about the weather here. But their lives and jobs pretty much depended on it. While hers certainly didn’t.

  “Huck will be here soon. Marlowe’s bringing him home from school.”

  “Well, I’m glad he’s not here. Because I have something I need to talk to you about. Now that I am in a stable, married relationship, I’ve been thinking that I should have custody. Huck needs to go back to the city with me.”

  Clark froze. Key in hand, mouth open, his eyes shot to Dana. She was still as beautiful as she ever was. Flawless skin, those doe-brown eyes he could get lost in, and long curly brown hair that fell in waves around her youthfully slender body.

  Maybe if she weren’t so beautiful, he wouldn’t have been blindsided. And stupid. He didn’t really know what someone like her wanted from someone like him anyway.

  His brain still hadn’t fully processed what she’d said, and it took a lot longer than he wanted to admit before he got it to start processing again.

  She wanted his child.

  “But when you walked out, you gave up custody. We didn’t even talk about it.” It was the only thing he could think of to say. And he couldn’t let her words hang in the air with no rebuttal.

  “That’s true. At the time, that was best. But now, we have space
for him.”

  “Space? I have space for him. Having space isn’t an issue.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You always make everything so difficult. You know exactly what I meant. Why do you have to jump on every single little thing and pick it to pieces?”

  He stared at her. He never knew what to say when she started arguing like this. They’d been talking about Huck and his custody. And now all of a sudden, she was attacking him because he picked on her, which he hadn’t done and didn’t have anything to do with the argument at hand.

  Why couldn’t she stay on the subject?

  But he knew better than to ask. Because it would degenerate into a real argument, with them both shouting at each other, and they wouldn’t have anything worked out when Marlowe pulled in the drive with Huck.

  He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’ve provided a stable home for Huck since you left. Right where he was born, and I’ve done everything he’s needed. I don’t think Huck needs a different home. Although,” he hastened to add, “I do think he enjoys visits from his mom. And I wish you could visit more often.”

  That was pretty much true. For Huck’s sake, he wished Dana were here more often. For his own sake, he wouldn’t mind if he didn’t see her for another twenty years. Or longer. Whatever.

  “You’re such a product of your upbringing. Everything always needs to stay the same,” she said in a singsong voice. “Nothing ever can change. We have to do things the same way our ancestors did them, and God forbid we have any kind of diversity or anyone ever introduces anything new.” She rolled her eyes and gave him that look that said he was as dumb as a box of rocks. He really hated that look. “I want something different for my son. I want him to be educated. I want him to believe in science and not fairy tales. I want him to grow to become inclusive and not a homophobic jerk.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  Clark waited for her to add the last two words, like you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Dana huffed. “Like you.”

  Yeah. Nothing changed. He’d argue with her, but there was no point. He could present all the facts and data he wanted to, but facts and data would never win an argument with someone who was only interested in calling him names.