Best Friends in the Show Me State

by Jessie Gussman

  He supposed most people started out with passion and progressed to the friendship and best friend stage.

  Maybe he and Marlowe would do it backward.

  He kind of wanted to talk to her about it tonight. He supposed holding her hand was maybe a precursor to the conversation he wanted to have. He wasn’t sure, based on her current expression, how receptive she was going to be to the idea. But he didn’t feel like he could just not do anything. He had to try. Or at least test the waters.

  Maybe he’d chicken out. The thought didn’t sit well.

  He turned, breaking the spell, and tugged on her hand. “Come on. Slowpoke.”

  “I’m coming, Gable. You’re the dingbat that stopped in the middle of the trail.”

  “I stopped because you asked me to, Slowpoke. Because you couldn’t keep up. Apparently, I now not only have to get myself up the trail, but I have to pull you up as well.”

  “Cool beans. You’re pulling me? I’ll let you.”

  He laughed as the tension between their hands increased. “Stop acting like a two-year-old, and pull your own weight.”

  “But you just offered to pull for me.”

  Clark was so relieved that him grabbing a hold of her hand had not destroyed the comradery between them that he could barely form a coherent thought. He wanted to say something to her about it. Wanted to say “thank you for not making this awkward.” But he didn’t want to bring any more attention to it than what he had to.

  Baby steps.

  The trail wound around the hill and a couple big rocks before the water tower came into sight.

  “There it is. Not much longer, Low Beam.”

  “It’s a good thing because you’re starting to slow down. I thought I was going to have to start pushing you up the hill. Hardly fair since you’re bigger.”

  “Life is not fair, Low Beam. You shoulda figured that out by now.”

  “Well, it’s not fair for the rest of the world, but between you and me, things can be fair.”

  “That’s pie-in-the-sky thinking, Sweetie. Things are never fair. Never meaning never, not never meaning except for between us. It means never.”

  “Wow. Someone’s really pessimistic today.”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “Well, yeah. Of course, you’re wrong. Because if you’re wrong, that means I’m right.”

  “That’s interesting.” He held up the bag he was carrying. “Then why am I carrying this, and you’re carrying nothing? That’s not fair.”

  “Yes, it is. You have more muscles than I do. So it’s perfectly fair that you carry more weight.”

  “Do you have to argue with everything I say?”

  “I do argue a lot, don’t I?” Her voice was a little more subdued, and he should’ve known better than to say something about it. He knew that was one of her sore spots. One that she was trying to work on.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You don’t argue too much. You and I were just messing around.”

  “I know you didn’t mean it. I just know it’s something I need to work on.”

  Her voice still wasn’t back to the perky way it had been before he’d stupidly hit her where it hurt, and they didn’t say anything more until they reached the water tower.

  It wasn’t the safest thing they’d ever done, but there was a ladder that went up to a platform where they could sit with their legs hanging down and look across the valley. The sunsets were spectacular up there, and it was quiet and peaceful.

  They’d spent plenty of time up there over the years. It was the perfect place for him to talk to her.

  “You first,” he said as he stood beside the ladder and tugged her toward it.

  She glanced at his eyes and put one hand on the ladder. He didn’t want to make it awkward, but he did hold on to her hand a second or two longer than maybe he should have.

  Something flashed in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what it was. He was hopeful that it was not irritation, but more of a maybe-I’m-interested-in-my-best-friend-as-more-than-a-best-friend.

  What would he know about it though? He’d been kinda dumb when it came to girls. He’d definitely been dumb when it came to choosing a wife.

  He pulled his hand back, and she looked to the ladder, putting her hand on and climbing up. He climbed up after her, careful to keep the bag from bouncing around too much. He didn’t want their subs to be smashed.

  It didn’t take long to get settled on the platform and get their food out. They munched in silence for a while. Companionable silence. He couldn’t think of too many times where they’d had an awkward silence.

  “Did the insurance adjuster come back with a quote for you?”

  The adjuster had been there earlier in the week, but the man had said he needed to go back to the office and run some figures before he’d know for sure.

  “No. But I told him that my case didn’t need to be a rush thing. That all the people who were living in shelters could be ahead of me. I know we talked about it. I hope that was still okay?”

  “Yeah.” He wanted to say something about living with her being better than he thought it would be or being everything he thought it would be... He didn’t know. Something. To let her know that he enjoyed sharing a house, a home, with her.

  That would lead nicely into the conversation that he wanted to have about them being more than friends, but he couldn’t think of any way to start it off. So he kept his mouth shut.

  There weren’t too many times in his life where he’d been nervous to the point of losing his appetite, but he only ate half of the sub before he wrapped it up and put it away.

  “Are you sick?” Marlowe asked.

  He should’ve known she’d notice. Of course she knew how much he usually ate.

  “Did you eat before?”

  “No.” His stomach cramped. Again, here was an opportunity to start the conversation he wanted to have, but how?

  He should just come out and say it. What to say? Or maybe the question wasn’t what to say, maybe the question was more how did he get over his fear.

  “Then why aren’t you eating?” Now there was concern in her voice, and she turned her head to look at him.

  There was a bag of potato chips between them, and he was tempted to pick them up and move them out of the way. Because he wanted to be closer.

  That was probably premature.

  He swallowed, supposing this was the best opening he was going to get.

  “Last weekend, I guess maybe it started with the tornado, but when Dana came, she started talking about custody and how she was married...”

  His voice trailed off, and he tried to figure out how he wanted to say the next part.

  But Marlowe wasn’t stupid; she was pretty astute actually. And she spoke, softly and a little hesitantly. “Are you talking about what we didn’t talk about?”

  Maybe with somebody else, he would’ve tilted his head and wondered what in the world they were saying, but Marlowe hit it exactly right. Although he supposed he should say the words out loud.

  “Yeah. When we looked at each other, I think both of us were thinking the same thing.”

  “Yeah. I think we were.” She bit her lip. Her brows were drawn down a little, and he knew she was worried about the same thing that made his stomach twist and burn.

  He could quit this conversation right now, and maybe everything would go back to the way it was.

  But he’d realized he wasn’t happy with the way things were. He wanted more. He could only hope that if Marlowe didn’t want more now, she would think about it and realize that maybe eventually she would.

  “I thought... I was thinking, that we could... That if we... That we might solve the problem, if we...”

  Why was the M-word so hard to say?

  “Married. We were both thinking that we could get married and solve the Dana problem, and some other problems while we’re at it. Like the fact that Huck doesn’t have a mother, at his house anyway, and that Kylie doesn’t have a father
at all. And that you fill that role perfectly for her.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I was thinking. We could get married.”

  She sighed and looked off into the distance. The sun was going down, and long shadows draped across the hill from the few trees. Brown fields already planted and holding the seed full of ripened grain come September stretched out into the distance. Dark brown, deep and rich. Good soil, and some of it was his.

  He wasn’t rich though. He couldn’t flaunt that in front of her or use that to try to convince her. Not that Marlowe would be swayed by such a thing. He knew her well enough to know that.

  What he owned didn’t matter to her, although he supposed what he did would matter. If he worked hard and was poor, he was pretty sure she’d be okay with it. She knew agriculture was not a guarantee and often volatile.

  “You said that’s where it started? Where what started?” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, her gaze scanning the horizon and her half-eaten sub sitting in her lap with her fingernail picking at a piece of the crust.

  He took a deep breath. He needed to be brave. “I’m gonna say something, something I considered not saying, because I don’t want to ruin anything.”

  She held a hand up. “Could you wait? I have something I need to say first.”

  That wasn’t what he was expecting. “Um, yeah. I guess.”

  “I don’t know what you’re going to say, but I’ve been thinking about something this week...something that happened a long time ago, and I know I never told you about it, and I feel like I need to confess it.”

  Chapter 13

  Clark held his hand up. “On second thought, let me go first, please.”

  Marlowe bit her tongue. She thought it would be easier for her to make sure she got out what she wanted to say first. Or maybe not easier, but better, although she truly had no idea what Clark was going to say.

  She was worried he was going to say they needed to put distance between them, or he’d found someone to date, or since he had thought of marriage with her, he figured out someone else he wanted to be married to and was going to start seeing her. Although Marlowe would have no idea who that was. There were several eligible ladies in town, and any one of them might be interested in Clark.

  All of them knew what a great dad he was, and he was good-looking and funny too.

  She pushed back her nerves and tried for humor. “Sure, Gable. Ladies first off the Titanic, men first the rest of the time.”

  “Very funny, Low Beam. If you want to go first, go ahead.”

  “No, really. I insist. You.” She wrapped up her sandwich and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You.”

  “No, you.”

  “Rock, paper, scissors?” he asked with more than a little humor in his tone.

  “Okay. It’s the only fair way.”

  “There are no fair ways,” he said as he held his fist up with hers.

  They said it together, “rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They yelled the “shoot” together as their fists bumped down.

  He did rock, but she did paper, because she knew he always did rock first.

  “Best two out of three?” he asked with a look that said he knew he’d lost.

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I won. So you go first.”

  “I thought you won, so you go first.”

  “Just talk, Gable. I know you’re a man, so this is kinda complicated, but it’s where you open your mouth and words come out.”

  “Could you explain that again, only this time number the steps and say it slower, please?”

  She laughed and shook her head. The sun had started to touch the horizon, and pink and light blue were stretched out across the sky. Pretty.

  “Sure,” she said. “Start talking, or I’ll push you off the water tower. How’s that?”

  “Whoa.” He looked over between his knees at the ground. “That’s a long way down. Would you really push me off?”

  “Or you could start talking so we don’t have to find out how mean I really am.”

  “Oh, I already know how mean you really are.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Then she dropped her arms and held her hand up. “Never mind. Ignore that. Just speak. What were you going to say that was so hard for you to say that you were mumbling and stumbling around?”

  “Wow, that bad?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay.” He rubbed his hands together and swung his feet so they kicked back and forth below the platform. Normally, Clark didn’t have a hard time sitting still, so she knew he was pretty worked up about this. Probably, if she had to guess, because he was afraid of her reaction.

  She just hoped he didn’t say he thought she needed to move out. And she really hoped he didn’t say he wanted to date someone else. Which was weird, because that had never bothered her before.

  “I want us to be more than friends.”

  Her mouth dropped. It didn’t hit the ground, but it felt close.

  She had not been expecting that. Not really. Actually, not at all. And maybe her stunned silence said that. She tried to process it, but the words just weren’t computing in her brain.

  Maybe she was quiet too long, because he spoke again. “I mean, I’d like to try it. You know, like maybe we can date or something...” His voice trailed off.

  He slapped his hands down on the platform, and she almost thought he was going to get up. But he didn’t.

  “Never mind. That was stupid. I don’t know why I’m even thinking that way. I don’t want to ruin the great friendship that we have.”

  “So... What made you think of this?” She drew the words out, because what she really wanted to know was whether he wanted to be more than friends because he liked her, or because they both thought that it would be a good thing and solve a lot of problems for them to get married.

  “I don’t know.” He brushed his hands down his legs.

  She couldn’t expect him to talk if she couldn’t get the words out. “Is this just because you think it’s a good idea for us to get married?”

  Wow, that was a hard sentence to say. Her chest felt heavy and twisted as she waited on his answer.

  “No.” The word was soft, and his eyes followed the sunset, which spread across the sky in brilliant orange, pink, and flaming red. “It’s because... Listen, if I’m being an idiot, you can just tell me. But since we were in the basement together during the storm, I’ve had a hard time making my eyes do anything but sit on you when you’re around. I found myself wanting to touch you, and that’s not something I’ve ever had any thoughts about before. I keep waiting for the adrenaline to wear off, but I’m pretty sure it’s not adrenaline.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.”

  He drew in and blew out a shaky breath, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him more nervous. Well, maybe one time, when he was competing in the state youth tractor driving championship.

  She wanted to ease his misery. Maybe she could, just by being honest.

  She clasped her hands tightly together and put her words out into the evening air. “I’ve been having the same problem. It started the same time. Although, what I thought I should confess to you goes along with that.”

  “Well, I’ve got mine out, and you haven’t pushed me off the platform, so I think I’m doing good. Go ahead and hit me with yours.”

  She didn’t move, suddenly finding her hands very interesting. “Back in high school, the group of girls that I ran with, there were like five of us. We had a slumber party one night, and we voted you the boy in high school with the most kissable lips. Ever since then, I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss my best friend.”

  The last words came out fast, and she had her head down, because she wanted to squirm, like there were worms or snakes in her stomach. That was about the stupidest thing she’d ever said in her life before.

  No,
not about, it was the stupidest thing she’d ever said. As soon as the words hit the evening air and hung there, she wished she could take them back. There was no need for her to say it.

  “Funny you should admit that now. That was years ago.”

  “This week, the memory has been stronger. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

  She just kept getting dumber and dumber.

  He laughed a little. “So let me get this straight, you and your friends voted me the guy with the most kissable lips in school?”

  She nodded without looking at him. Miserable.

  “I didn’t even know there was such a thing.” His voice faded before he spoke again. “That happened how many years ago? And you never told me?” He leaned forward and over a little, tilting his head and trying to meet her eyes. “Low Beam. Hello? You gonna look at me, or you gonna sit there and stare at your hands all night?”

  “Stop it. I didn’t make fun of you.”

  “I didn’t say anything that shocking.” He poked her leg with his finger. “And I’ve only been keeping my secret for a week. You’re going on what? Like a decade and half?”

  “A lot of things have happened in those almost-fifteen years. It wasn’t like I thought about it every day or anything.” Finally, she looked up, irritated. “I don’t know why you’re giving me such a hard time. You said you want to be more than friends. You do know that includes kissing?”

  “No? Really?”

  She could definitely hear the humor in his voice.

  His dimple flashed. “I mean, I thought we would start kind of slow. Like maybe we’d hold hands tonight or something. I wasn’t thinking of a big make-out session on top of the water tower like right now.” He huffed a little and maybe snorted. “But I guess I do have kissable lips, so if you can’t control yourself, have at ’em.”

  She laughed in spite of herself. “I’ve managed to control myself for the last decade and a half or so, pretty sure I can do so again tonight. I just always kind of wondered.”

  “Well, Low Beam, don’t wander too far, you might get lost.”