Friendship, Texas Series: Volume 1

by Magan Vernon

  “You can either dick around and make up excuses, or you can shut up and go see a realtor with me tomorrow after work.”

  Finally, I smiled. “I guess I’m going with you to see a realtor. What can it hurt, besides us living together and killing each other?”

  Clay grinned, putting his hand out. “Roommates?”

  I rolled my eyes but then put my hand out and shook his. “Roommates.”

  ***

  “I’m sorry, Clay. In your budget with acreage and within ten miles of Friendship, there just aren’t many options. The Dallas suburbs is a fast-moving market,” Richardson, our cartoonish looking realtor with a bowl cut and red mustache said from the front seat of his Honda.

  We’d seen just about every trailer that was half-falling down and a few houses that smelled like mildew. I was starting to think this trip was hopeless, and we would both just end up living with Mom forever. That was what millennials did, right? They moved back home. We were just following the trend.

  “Why do you need land anyway?” I asked Clay, turning from the front seat to look at him slumped over in the backseat.

  “I don’t know. I just want room for things. Maybe I want goats or some shit in the future.”

  “Goats? What in the ever loving hell would you do with goats?” I raised an eyebrow.

  He shrugged. “More than you would.”

  Before we could continue bickering, Richardson yelled over us. “Now, this last property is a little bit farther than you wanted, but still within the Friendship city limits. It’s two bedrooms on two acres with the opportunity to buy the other forty acres that’s currently being leased for farmland,” Richardson said.

  Route 66 curved toward Rockwall and a large field came into view before we crested a little hill and saw a small, brick Texas ranch-style home. The little front porch had peeling paint, but otherwise, it didn’t look like it was falling apart. From what we could see from the road, at least.

  Richardson pulled into the long driveway and stopped in front of a carport. I got out and examined the landscape. No garage, but there was a shed, and most of the grass was prairie grass with a few wild flowers. A metal cattle fence lined most of the property, and I caught a glimpse of an in-ground pool.

  “A pool? How kept up is that?” I asked, following Richardson and Clay to the front door.

  “The owners did disclose that the pool does need some maintenance,” Richardson said, typing in a code on a lockbox on the door.

  “That’s cool. We can just call Noah,” Clay said.

  “Does everyone know and hang out with that guy?” I asked.

  Clay laughed. “Don’t be jealous that I have friends who aren’t you.”

  I rolled my eyes, and followed Clay and Richardson into the house.

  Typical of a Texas ranch-style home, we walked right into the sunken living room. We took the few steps down to the dilapidated hardwood floors, and Clay walked over to the stone fireplace then looked out the sliding glass door. “Yeah, this is a good amount of land, and it shouldn’t take too much to get that pool fixed.”

  I stood next to Clay, looking out the window at the overgrown weeds and cracked pool with tiles straight out of a grandma’s basement bathroom. Then I looked at my brother whose eyes, for the first time since he’d been home from being injured overseas, lit up and was smiling wider than I’d ever seen. This might not have been my dream home, but by the way Clay looked at the house, I couldn’t tell him that.

  “What are you going to tell Mom when we buy this place?” I asked.

  Clay shrugged, keeping his eyes on the pool. “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe I can bring the idea up to her at bunco tonight.”

  Clay turned toward me, raising an eyebrow. “You’re seriously going to bunco with Mom?”

  “I mean it’s not like I have anything better to do and wine-drinking, bunco-playing Mom might take the news better.”

  Chapter 9

  “Why did our parents sign us up for vacation Bible school if we don’t even go to church?” I asked as Eddie and I sat at the end of the pew with the ten other kids from our sixth-grade class. Clay was a few rows ahead of us with the rest of his six-year-old friends, smiling and laughing like our parents didn’t just push us out of the house for a week.

  “It was either this or find the closest crack house, I guess,” Eddie said, shrugging.

  I shoved his shoulder. “Not funny.”

  He smiled. “It’s not all that bad. Pastor Ginn said I could sing with the high school choir after arts and crafts, if you want to join. I’m sure they could use you as another baritone.”

  “Ha-ha, very funny.”

  “I’m serious. This is the only way Gramps is okay with me singing. If it’s for Jesus, then it’s okay. If it’s not, then either I’m a pansy or trying to pick up girls,” Eddie said, keeping his head down.

  The older he got, the harder his Gramps was on him.

  “Okay, Ed. For you, I’ll go,” I said, shoving his shoulder again.

  ***

  The church high school choir was composed of about twelve kids ranging from freshmen to new seniors, and now me and Eddie.

  We all gathered on the balcony with Assistant Pastor Kevin on the piano. He adjusted his thick black glasses on the bridge of his nose, and I found myself doing the same. I had begged my parents for contacts so I wouldn’t be the only girl in sixth grade with glasses, but they said not until high school. I was stuck as the girl with braces and glasses for middle school, and I didn’t think anything could be worse.

  “Okay, friends, open your hymnals to ‘Just a closer walk with Thee.’ We’ll start at the top and go through the first refrain,” Pastor Kevin said, standing up and holding his own crimson hymnal.

  Pastor put his free hand up, and we all hummed then slowly started at the beginning. But one voice rose above all the rest. Eddie was in the middle with the two other baritones, senior boys, but his voice echoed throughout the church. I’d heard him sing when we were goofing around, but it wasn’t like this. His voice was powerful and booming. Slowly, everyone else’s voices dropped to a low hum and then disappeared as they all stared at Eddie. With his eyes closed, he belted out the refrain. It wasn’t until he had finished and opened his eyes that he realized everyone was staring at him, causing his cheeks to flush.

  “Sorry, y’all, I guess the spirit moved me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “No, don’t apologize. That was amazing!” a freshman girl with long blond hair said.

  “You have the voice of an angel,” another girl cooed.

  That was the first time I’d ever experienced jealousy over my best friend, and at that moment, I realized that I thought of the dimpled crooner as more than a friend. I had a crush on Eddie Jahid, and there was no way in hell I was ever going to be able to tell him.

  “Rumor has it Eddie has been spotted in Nashville. Do you know if he’s coming back soon? Maybe going to sing in the choir again?” the blue-haired lady asked me as I filled a plastic cup with wine from a box. These ladies were viscous, rolling the dice with bunco, and I needed something to take the edge off.

  “Yeah. He’s in Nashville, meeting with his agent or something,” I said, trying to be as vague as I could. It was not like I knew much more than that anyway.

  “Do you think he’s there to see that Playboy bunny ex of his? I can’t believe she would do that to poor Eddie. He was always such a good boy and had the voice of an angel,” the woman said, filling her glass up to the top.

  “Um, I don’t know anything about his ex, ma’am,” I said and walked toward my table. Of course, that lady had to switch seats and move to my table.

  “But aren’t you and Eddie an item? I told Henry I saw you two at Forever Sweet Bakery together. He didn’t believe me until some TNC site posted about it. Our little town, getting on national news media,” the woman said, clasping her hands together.

  “Dorothy, quit gabbing. It’s your turn to take score, and d
on’t fuck it up this time,” the woman with bright, bottle-red hair next to her said.

  “Do you think the church hall is really the best place to use the F word, Marge?” Dorothy asked, raising her eyebrows high on her head.

  “It’s not the best place to drink and gamble either, but salute!” Marge said, raising her half-full plastic cup.

  The bell rang from the first table, and I grabbed the dice, eager to move on to a new conversation that wasn’t about drinking in the church hall, or me. “What number are we on?”

  “Back on ones, honey,” the old lady next to me said, smiling sweetly.

  I shook the dice then rolled them on the table, coming to a stop with three ones.

  “You got a bunco!” Marge said, lifting her hands in the air.

  “Oh, cool. Bunco!” I raised my glass and took a big gulp.

  “Who has the bunco prize now?” the lady next to me asked.

  Dorothy held a pink gift bag to her chest. “You wouldn’t take this from an old lady, would you? I could be dead by the next week and not get a bunco prize!”

  I stared at the old lady open-mouthed as she threw the bag at me. “Fine. The girl gets the guy and the bunco prize. At least, I have my friends and wine!” Dorothy made a toast and downed half her glass.

  “What’s going on in here?” A low drawl rang through the room, and all eyes turned toward the doorway.

  There stood Eddie with his guitar case on his back. Noah stood on one side of him with another young guy I’d never seen before on the other.

  Dorothy turned sharply toward me. “Brooke, no boys at bunco!”

  “I’m just heading downstairs with the boys. Sorry, ladies,” Eddie said, waving his hand and offering a wink in my direction. He turned and walked toward the stairwell with the other two in tow.

  All of the ladies’ eyes were on me. I wasn’t sure when Eddie got back in town. Maybe I should have, especially if there was something going on with us, but either way, I couldn’t focus on rolling dice when I knew he was right downstairs.

  “You know sex in the sanctuary is frowned upon,” Dorothy said, leaning in.

  “Dorothy!” Marge said, smacking her shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said, rolling the dice again only to get nothing but random numbers, so I passed them off to Dorothy.

  The lady next to me smiled. “Oh, honey, we’ve read your books. We know that’s far from true.”

  My face heated up to a million degrees. “Y’all read my books?”

  Dorothy cursed under her breath then passed the dice to Marge. “Of course, we did! As soon as your mother said you were writing, she had Beth order copies for the library. We’ve been gobbling them up. All those forbidden romances!”

  The lady next to me, who I figured out was Beth, smiled. “Yes, the patrons love the romance. Oh, we should set up a signing for you! Maybe you could even do something with Eddie singing and you signing books!”

  “Or she could add him into one of her books. He may be young enough to be my grandson, but I wouldn’t mind reading about a girl and the country boy next door rockin’ the deer stand.”

  Holy hell. I guess word did travel fast in town, and Gramps must have been gossiping like an old lady.

  I put my head down on the table. This could not be happening. “I’m going to get some air,” I muttered, standing up from the table.

  I didn’t pay attention to the other ladies as I headed out of the church hall and toward the stairs. Most places in Texas didn’t have basements because of the clay soil. The church was an old building with a root cellar which had been converted to a basement for events and weddings, but I didn’t think anyone ever used it for that.

  The low hum of bass floated up from the bottom of the steps, and the farther I went down, the more I heard the drums and guitar, then Eddie’s voice. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching him with his eyes closed as he strummed the chords of the guitar. It took me back to high school. Even middle school. All those moments I had first fallen for this guy when he was just my best friend—before he was Eddie Justice.

  “He has a beautiful voice, doesn’t he?” a low voice said.

  I gasped before spinning to see my mom standing next to me.

  “Mom, isn’t it your turn at the head table?” I asked.

  She smiled. “I let another girl take my place when I saw you head out.”

  “Oh. I’m fine. I just went to get some air and heard the music,” I said.

  “Would needing to get some air and downing half of the boxed wine have anything to do with you gathering the courage to tell me you and Clay met with a realtor?” she asked.

  I stared at her open-mouthed. “How the hell did you know that?”

  Mom patted my shoulder. “A mother has her intuitions. That and it’s a small town. Suzie in the real estate office called me as soon as y’all left.”

  I sighed. “Clay wants to buy a place and have me move in as his roommate. He has his heart set on it.”

  “And what does that boyfriend of yours in Austin think of that?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I think he’s pretty much an ex at this point.”

  “And what about Eddie?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “I haven’t told him that either, but it doesn’t matter. Who knows if he’s going to stay.” I muttered the last part.

  Mom looked toward the country crooner and squeezed my shoulder. “I think you and your brother both have to go for what you want—whether it’s a house or a boy.”

  With that, she turned and headed back up the stairs.

  I wanted to say something else, but instead, I found myself focusing on the band.

  Noah stopped playing and waved his arms before poking Eddie in the back with his drumstick. Was there anything Noah couldn’t do? Jeez, this guy was everywhere.

  Eddie’s eyes opened, and he smiled before looking at the young guy with the bass and Noah. “Take five, guys, all right?”

  The other two guys nodded, and Eddie set his guitar on one of the folding metal chairs before walking toward me. “Hey, sorry to interrupt your bunco. I just didn’t know what was going on.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to think on what my mother had said, but couldn’t stop thinking about the old ladies’ words. “Well, rumor has it that the old ladies up there have been talking to someone’s grandfather and hearing stories about deer stands.”

  Eddie raised his eyebrows and laughed. “Seriously? Man, gossip gets around this town.”

  “It’s not funny!” I huffed.

  “It is, actually. How many people can say they fell out of a deer stand and had their gramps come to their rescue while they were half-naked?” Eddie asked.

  “So far, just me,” I muttered.

  “Come on, that’s great book material.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, when did you get back in town?”

  “I flew in this afternoon. I stopped by your house, but your mom said you and Clay were out, so I didn’t want to interrupt your sibling bonding.”

  “Oh.” I nodded.

  “Unless that was just a cover-up and you were really conspiring with the church ladies?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “A lady never tells.”

  “Hey, Eddie, are you going to talk to your girlfriend all night, or are we going to play?” the younger guy with the bass yelled.

  “Hold onto your panties, Joey,” Eddie yelled over his shoulder then turned back to me.

  “I know I should have called or something, but it’s good to be back and to see you. I’ll text you tonight and then maybe we can hang out tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Yeah. That’d be good. I have to write a little in the morning. Deadlines and all that,” I said, trying to sound cooler than what I actually was. The truth was I could miss a deadline and no one would care. I didn’t even know how the hell I was going to pay rent to Clay.

  Eddie smiled. “Then I’ll pick you up early for some work and coffee.�
��

  “You sure?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “It’s a date. Now, get upstairs before those church ladies come after us.”

  Chapter 10

  I woke up the next morning and immediately rolled over to check my email and Facebook. I’d been spending less and less time on my phone now that I had Eddie around, but that didn’t stop my addiction.

  I had my usual load of PMs, but I wasn’t expecting to see one from Drake.

  Hey, Brooke. Haven’t heard from you in a while. I get things were crazy with the holidays, but what happens now? Can we talk?

  I sucked in a deep breath as my thumb hovered over the reply button. I typed in a few words then deleted them, then typed something new, only to delete it.

  I couldn’t break up with a guy via a PM. I probably should have done it years ago but was always too chicken shit. Now, I had to do it for real and not online. I owed the guy at least that much.

  I exited out of my Facebook app and opened up my texts, finding my brother’s number.

  Wanna go on a road trip to Austin?

  Clay immediately responded.

  With you? Hell, no.

  I frowned and typed back. Why not?

  Clay responded with Ask your boyfriend.

  I sat my phone on the nightstand and rolled out of bed. It would be a complete bitch move for me to show up at Drake’s place with Eddie. Not that Drake had any idea anything was going on with Eddie and me, or that it ever did.

  “Hey, what are you doing tonight?” Drake bounced on my dorm bed.

  I put my textbook down and looked up at him. I was just starting to get used to these new contact lenses, and part of me wanted to just say ‘fuck it’ and go back to glasses. “What?”

  “This girl in my accounting class told me she has tickets to see Eddie Justice play in some honky tonk about thirty miles outside Austin. She can’t go because of a night class, so she offered them to me. What do you say? Want to get our boots on?”