by Carter Ashby
Cody’s head was bowed, too. He nodded in acknowledgment, but took some time to process. At last he leaned back in the recliner. “Honestly, I think it’s for the best. I like to think I’d have had the guts to come out eventually, but this way I just have to face up to it. Don’t get me wrong, that was a really shitty thing to do. But I forgive you.”
Ivy’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you,” she said, her voice faltering.
Now she turned to face Jake, and he almost couldn’t breathe looking at her. He doubted he would see this side of her very often. This penitent, humble side. This vulnerable, shaken side. In fact, he hoped not to, but he was glad of it all the same. The barriers that keep two people from truly seeing each other always seem thinner in moments of vulnerability. For now, he felt he could see straight into her soul.
“Jake, I want you to know,” she said, “I didn’t know what Dallas was going to do. I knew he wanted out. He told me he’d get me an angle I could work to get you guys to sell. But I had no idea he’d do something this stupid and horrible.”
“What’s done is done, Ivy. I’m sorry you had to carry all that for so long.”
“You don’t seem angry at him.”
“Oh, I’m angry. I’ll deal with him when he’s well. It’s just, he almost died. At this point, my relief outweighs my anger.”
Ivy smiled sadly and sweetly at him.
Jake looked at Boone whose eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. “So it’s your turn. Talk.”
Boone sighed. With apparent great effort, he sat up and swung his legs off the sofa. “I already told the sheriff everything. Right now they’re investigating Richard for Molly’s murder. But he told me not to leave town.”
“We gave him our cell phones,” Ivy said. “We can get them back tomorrow. He’s getting all the texting history off of them. There may be an alibi for Boone on there and plenty of incriminating texts from Richard.”
Jake nodded, taking in her meek, folded hands and downcast eyes. He turned back to Boone. “You were sleeping with the preacher’s wife,” he said, halfway hoping Boone would deny it.
“Yeah, man, I fucked up, okay? It was a thrill. Shit’s so boring around here and I got a little high on the idea of being with a married woman.”
Ivy looked away, her jaw setting.
“God damn you, Boone! Show some remorse!” Jake didn’t make the conscious effort to stand—just one minute he was sitting, the next he was on his feet towering over his youngest brother.
Boone shocked him by jumping up, meeting him eye-to-eye. “Remorse? You’ve got no clue how this has felt! It’s my fault she’s dead. Mine. I didn’t kill her, but I may as well have. And I’ve had her psycho husband scaring the shit out of me via cell phone all week, I can’t even catch my breath long enough to grieve. I didn’t love Molly, okay? But she meant something to me. I’d have defended her if I’d known she was in trouble. I’d never have wished this on her, and I do miss her, and I do feel so much guilt over this it makes me sick. This whole thing has been a nightmare.”
Jake stepped back, sitting again. Boone collapsed onto the sofa and pressed the pads of his fingers against his eyes. “Why don’t you go to bed,” Jake said. “Get some rest.”
“I need a drink.” He climbed back up and stumbled into the kitchen.
Jake dropped his head back. After a few breaths, he realized all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Ivy and spend a lazy afternoon in bed. He leaned forward and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “So what do you wanna do, Ivy? Stay here, or go back to your house?”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, though why she should be surprised was a mystery to Jake. All he knew was that that soft moment of a few minutes ago was over. The ire was coming back to her. “Tell you what, hoss. I’ll go back to my house. And you stay here and think about what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done? What do you mean what I’ve done?”
“You stood there while your father yelled at me and you didn’t do a damn thing. You still haven’t taken me on a proper date or acknowledged me in public. You’ve provided no romance whatsoever. And you sit there and nonchalantly assume that I’m going to go to bed with you. There’s no relationship, here, Jake. You gotta build that, and so far we’ve got two solid hookups and a little fooling around under our belts. Do better.” With that, she stood and headed for the front door.
As it slammed behind her, Jake decided he wasn’t going after her. Not right then. He was too exhausted. Too burned. “I suck,” he moaned, leaning back into the sofa cushions again.
“At least,” Cody replied.
“I don’t know where she gets off saying I didn’t give her romance, though. We spent Friday night together and I devoted my entire being to making her happy. I thought that was pretty romantic.”
“I really don’t want to know about that.”
Jake sighed. “I guess it’s right she makes me work for it. I’m just exhausted right now.”
“I think we all need a little time to recover.”
Jake found the prospect of going to bed alone too depressing, even though he’d never had Ivy in his bed. He crashed on the couch, Cody in his recliner, and the other two in their rooms. When they woke up, there would be a whole new world to adjust to.
Part 6: Everyone's Endings
Myra’s Blog
There’s nothing I hate worse than a domineering man. Many of you know about my second marriage. Theodore was an abusive drunk, and I’m ashamed to say I fell victim to his violence for more years than I care to admit.
Now I’m not saying Gideon Deathridge is abusive or a drunk, but I will say…you reap what you sow. It appears the Deathridges have endured a major falling out, and who should be at the center of it all, but little Ivy Turner. I have to say, I’m not shocked to find out that Ivy has been sleeping with Jake all this time. It was obvious from the start, if you ask me.
And I’m not too terribly shocked to find out Boone was having an affair with the pastor’s wife. The boy was always a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Dallas’s treachery, however, is not only shocking, but deeply disturbing. You need mental help, Dallas. I hope you get it.
The most entertaining bit to me, however, is the news that Cody plays for the other team. I hope you’ll all join me in welcoming Cody to life outside the closet. We wish you the best. I’m sure many a female heart is grieving today.
Thursday afternoon, Cody drove into town, dropped by the bakery for some pastries, then by the country store for a couple decks of cards and some board games. After that, he went, uninvited and unannounced to the Turner house.
Jake was working his ass off on the ranch even as Gideon ignored his existence like a pouting child. Jake had managed to drag Boone out to work, claiming that it would keep his mind occupied, but when he’d tried to get Cody to go with him, Cody had gently, but firmly, told him to fuck off. He had a life to live and he was damn sure not going to live it under the auspice of a man like Gideon who ruled with an iron fist and withheld love for no good reason at all.
He pulled into the Turner’s driveway around nine in the morning. When he knocked, he was surprised to see the door swing open and reveal a shirtless and bruised Jordan.
Jordan smiled sadly. “Hey, man. The Turners are out. Ivy’s at work. Mr. Turner’s with the cattle.”
“Perfect,” Cody said, smiling for the first time since before the Big Revelation, which is what they’d all taken to calling Ivy’s outburst on Monday.
Jordan stepped aside, looking a little confused. “I heard what happened.”
Cody ignored him as he kicked off his boots. He had a bag full of games in one hand and a box of pastries in the other. “Where are you hanging out?”
“Uh, upstairs. I just came down for coffee. I didn’t think they’d want me roaming around.”
“Psh. They’re responsible for the condition you’re in—”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily true—”
�
��—And I’m sure they mean for you to make yourself at home. Here, let’s take the living room.”
“I don’t know if we should…”
Cody ignored him again as he moved into the living room. He sat the box and bag on the coffee table and pulled it closer to the sofa. Then he grabbed Jordan’s hand and led him to the sofa, making sure there were enough cushions around him. “I should put on a shirt,” Jordan murmured.
Cody snorted. He wasn’t going to get lucky with the kid, not in the condition he was in, but more clothes was definitely not the direction he wanted to go. He headed to the kitchen. “Did you already get your coffee?” he shouted over his shoulder.
“I was microwaving some.”
“Screw that. I’ll make a fresh pot.” It took him a moment to figure out the Turner’s coffee pot, but once he did, he flipped it on and headed back to the living room, hopping over the back of the couch and landing next to Jordan.
“You seem…chipper,” Jordan said.
Cody laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m temporarily without the weight of the world. No job, no judgmental asshole of a father, and a cute guy I’m hoping will be my friend. What do you say?”
Jordan’s look was skeptical. “Are you okay?”
“Better than ever.”
Jordan sighed, closing his eyes. “No, Cody. Are you okay?” When he opened his eyes again, Cody’s bullshit euphoria vanished and he sank back into the neutral place he’d been the past few days. It was a sort of numbness as his anger fell away and he began to reassess his life and think about the possibilities for his future.
He met Jordan’s gaze and nodded. “I am okay. I really am. I think Jake’s right. Once the old man sees how much he’s lost, he’ll come around. But I don’t think I can ever work for him again.”
Jordan grinned. “The Turners are hiring.”
“So I hear. Not sure I’d get much work done, though.” He let his gaze wander down and back up again, enjoying the blush high on Jordan’s cheekbones. “Right now I just came to play with you.”
“Huh?”
Cody laughed. “Games.” He pulled the cards out of his bag, as well as a Scrabble board and a Monopoly game. “Take your pick. I figure you must be bored. We can hang out while you get better. Get to know each other a little.”
“That sounds really nice,” Jordan said with a hesitant smile.
“Good. You get all better, I’ll take you on a date. If you’ll have me.”
His smile widened. “I’ll have you.”
Cody leaned in and kissed him on his scratchy jaw. He lingered, nuzzling gently into Jordan’s neck, aching for more, longing for so much more. And suddenly, he wasn’t numb anymore. Suddenly, all the feelings surfaced at once. Cody left his face buried in Jordan’s neck even as he squeezed his eyes shut and forced back the tears.
“Hey,” Jordan whispered. “You can let go with me. I won’t tell anyone.”
Cody inhaled slowly, determined not to break down a second time this week. “You just smell so good,” he said, trying not to choke on the words.
“So do you. Come on, talk to me.”
Cody sat up and looked deeply into Jordan’s eyes. And then they talked. They spent the rest of the afternoon sharing their stories, learning each other’s challenges with being gay and dealing with friends and family. In between, they touched and kissed and cuddled. Talking to Jordan helped Cody get his feet back on the ground. He’d been off balance, floating around confused. But connecting with this boy who was so much more secure than him truly gave Cody the grounding he needed.
Late in the afternoon, Cody cleaned up the mess from the food and drink they took. He put the games away and helped Jordan up to his bedroom before saying goodbye.
The real victim, as far as Ivy was concerned, was Clara. Maybe it was because she was a woman and therefore related to the woman in the story more than the men. But all poor Clara had ever done was love and serve, and what did she get in return? A bunch of ungrateful men walking all over her and completely disregarding her feelings. In fact, Ivy was so emotionally overextended about the situation that running into Myra was the last straw.
It was Friday morning and Ivy was in town running errands. She decided to drop by the flower shop and save the florist a trip. Mrs. Engle was behind the counter arranging a bouquet when Ivy walked in. “Are those for me?” she asked, exasperation in every syllable.
“As a matter of fact, they are. From…” Mrs. Engle made a show of looking at the card.
“I know who they’re from,” Ivy said with a sigh. “I don’t suppose he wrote anything besides his name this time?”
“To Ivy. From Jake.”
“He’s a real charmer.”
Mrs. Engle gave her a tight smile and handed her her flower arrangement. Ivy was unimpressed as she’d been receiving flowers from Jake all week. No words. Just flowers. What was she supposed to do with that?
When she turned to leave was when she ran into Myra who was on her rounds, gathering more gossip for her blog. Ivy stuck her nose in the air and proceeded to walk past the nosy old lady, but alas, it wasn’t to be.
“Good morning, Ivy,” Myra said, way too cheerfully. “I hear there’s soon to be some important news regarding your future nuptials?”
“You would know better than me, I’m sure,” Ivy answered blandly. “Excuse me.” Once again she tried to leave.
“Ivy, dear, why are you being so rude? It’s very unladylike.”
Ivy spun on Myra. “Unladylike? Unladylike! You’ve spent the last three weeks slandering my name all over the internet making me out to be the whore of Fair Grove, Oklahoma, and you think calling me unladylike is going to make me want to talk to you? God you’re such a bitch, Myra!”
Myra’s jaw dropped and she fell back a step, her hand over her chest. “I have never been spoken to in such a manner. I swear, I don’t know what this generation’s coming to—”
“Oh, shove it up your ass!”
“Um, Ivy,” said Mrs. Engle’s meek voice, “would you mind watching your language in my store?”
“Fuck off, Caroline. You too, Myra.” She started to walk away.
“I hope you know, this is going on my blog.”
She spun back again. “What the hell difference does it make? If I don’t do something worth talking about, you’re just going to make something up, right?”
Myra smirked.
“Seriously, do you not care at all who you hurt? There are innocent people on the sidelines of this thing who just got shit all over because of you.”
For a brief second, Myra’s smirk faltered. “Gossip is a harmless enterprise with a longstanding tradition that goes back—”
“Whispering about how Mabel Hale uses a store-bought pie crust is harmless gossip. Telling a woman that her husband has been in love with someone else for their entire marriage…that’s dirty and mean, Myra.”
Her smirk at last vanished. “I never said that. I only insinuated it. I wasn’t claiming it was true.”
“Well it was true. Turns out, Gideon’s been feuding with my father all this time over it.”
Myra’s heels clicked on the floor as she closed the distance between herself and Ivy. “Is Clara all right?”
“No, Clara isn’t all right. Who the hell do you think you are asking that question?”
“Listen, I’ve got no love for Gideon Deathridge. I think he’s a beast. But I never meant to hurt Clara. It was all meant in fun and if it ended up having some truth in it, well, I don’t see how that’s my fault.”
Ivy rolled her eyes and turned toward the door.
“Wait!” Myra met her at the door. “I’d like to talk to her. Clear the air.”
“So talk to her.”
“Perhaps you could arrange a tea? After all, she’s your future mother-in-law.”
“Oh, for God’s…listen, I am far, far away from being engaged to Jake Deathridge. He still hasn’t even asked me on a date.”
Myra’s smirk returned. “We see
the signs, dear,” she said, taking a step back.
Ivy wanted to scream.
“So what about that tea? Perhaps at your house, this afternoon?”
“I don’t see why you can’t just go talk to her.”
“I won’t step foot on Gideon Deathridge’s property. Besides, I doubt Clara would take my calls.”
“Then why should I help you? I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this, but I’m on Clara’s side, not yours.”
“You’ll help for two reasons. First, because I want to make things right with Clara, and I think you believe me. Second, because if you don’t, when you do start your wedding plans with Jake Deathridge, I will make up the most outlandish story possible as to why Jake is being forced to marry you. Maybe I’ll say that the Deathridge ranch is bankrupt and he’s marrying you for your money. Or maybe I’ll say you’re knocked up with one of his brother’s babies and he’s trying to salvage your honor. Or maybe—”
“That’s enough. Jesus, how come you couldn’t just ask nicely. Three o’clock.” With that, she left to finish her chores and call Clara.
She didn’t tell Clara about Myra, which made it feel a little like an ambush. But Ivy promised herself that at the first sign of any bad behavior from Myra, she would jump up and carry the old lady out on her shoulder.
Ivy walked into her house to find two cowboys making out on the couch. It was a gentle make-out session, since one of them was healing from some cracked ribs and bruising, but it was enough to make her blush to her ears.
They both looked up when the door slammed. Jordan’s eyes went wide. Cody simply grinned. Ivy let out her breath and laughed. “This what’s been happening during the day while I’m at work?”
Cody nodded while Jordan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Turner,” Jordan said.
Cody slapped him on the arm and stood. “Relax. She’s gonna be my sister-in-law soon, at least according to the rumor mill. Ain’t that right, Ivy?”