The Next Door Boys

by Jolene B Perry

  © 2011 Jolene B. Perry

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are products of the author's imagination, and are not to be construed as real.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-59955-910-0

  Published by Bonneville Books, an imprint of Cedar Fort, Inc., 2373 W. 700 S., Springville, UT 84663

  Distributed by Cedar Fort, Inc., www.cedarfort.com

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Perry, Jolene B. (Jolene Betty), 1976- author.

  The next door boys / Jolene B. Perry.

  pages cm

  Summary: While Leigh Tressman recovers from her recent cancer treatments, she follows her brother Jaron to BYU where she meets and falls in love with his roommate.

  ISBN 978-1-59955-910-0

  [1. Cancer--Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters--Fiction. 3. Universities and colleges--Fiction. 4. Brigham Young University--Fiction. 5. Provo (Utah)--Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.P4349Nex 2011

  [Fic]--dc23

  2011023819

  Cover design by Danie Romrell

  Cover design © 2011 by Lyle Mortimer

  Edited and typeset by Kelley Konzak

  Printed in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Printed on acid-free paper

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  To my parents for always showing that we can

  do anything if we're willing to work for it.

  To Heather because she edits for shoes.

  And to my husband, Mike, for his endless

  patience and support.

  one

  My parents joined us in the driveway. Dad looked calm, as always, and Mom tried really hard not to cry. I gave them both another final hug before climbing into my brother's overstuffed car.

  “You know to call—” Mom started to say.

  “If I need anything or just want to talk.” I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes.

  “And don't be afraid—”

  “To ask Jaron for help or to call my new doctor, who I'll see later.” I let my eyes find hers through the open window of the car. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too, Leigh.” She tried to smile.

  “Love you, Dad.”

  He nodded and waved once as Jaron and I pulled out of the driveway.

  Jaron hit the gas before Mom could find another way to delay our departure. I laughed in excitement and relief.

  My brother drove down the road with a wide smile on his face. “So, I'm still amazed Mom let you go.”

  “Me too.”

  “You look a lot better than last time I saw you.” He looked at me too carefully, like Mom did.

  “Well you should have been screaming that the whole time you were home.” Anything that would help our parents realize I was healthy again was a good thing. I'd been officially in remission for three months and eighteen days. It would be several years before they called me “cured.” I hadn't paid attention to that. As soon as they told me the cancer was gone, I knew I'd be okay.

  “I would have said something, but any reminder gets Mom all upset, so I held my tongue. I'll email her in a day or two.” Jaron started scrolling down songs on his iPod. “You do look better though.”

  “I saw you just a few months ago, between spring and summer semesters, remember?” That short amount of time shouldn't make much difference.

  “Yeah, and you look… stronger now.”

  I looked out the window at the few scattered homes just north of St. George. “Well, it probably has something to do with the fact that Mom looks so worried every time I'm about to do something that it stopped being worth the effort. She keeps me on a strict schedule of pool and stretching. She read somewhere that it helps both body and mind…” I rolled my eyes. Jaron started to interrupt, but I cut him off. “I know what you're going to say, and I know that she's scared and means well. But I've spent the whole summer doing practically nothing.”

  Jaron reached over, laughed, and ruffled my short hair with his hand. “I still can't get used to the hair.”

  “Hey!” I ducked away and pushed his arm back. “I know. It's short. And brown. It's still weird for me too.” I checked my reflection in the mirror. It used to be the same baby blond as Jaron's. I ran my hands through it and shook it out, trying to undo the damage Jaron had just inflicted. It stopped just below my ears. I should consider myself lucky. I hated the super short fuzz when my hair had first started growing back. But anything was better than the bald girl with skinny cheeks and dark circles underneath her eyes.

  We rode in silence for a while. It felt good to be with someone who didn't need to talk every minute of a drive. I stared out the window again. We were nearing Cedar City, and the scattered homes started to get closer together.

  “So, you excited?” Jaron looked over at me, smiling, already knowing most of what my answer would be.

  “Excited for a fresh start and to not be hovered over every moment of the day.” It would also be liberating to be rid of the labels that seemed to follow me around. The girl who sings, the girl who sews, and last year, the girl with cancer.

  “You know I'm supposed to drive you to school and that…”

  “Don't worry, Jaron. I won't make you police me too hard.” I kicked off my shoes and pulled my feet up onto the seat.

  “Yeah, right.” He chuckled.

  I didn't care what kind of restrictions I had. I was finally out on my own. I looked over at Jaron. Almost on my own.

  We did our mandatory stop in Cedar City for pizza and continued heading north for Provo.

  “I can't wait for you to meet Brian,” Jaron said through a mouthful of food.

  “Yeah, he's the convert you live with, right? That you met on your mission?”

  “He changed my life, Leigh. Really. I feel very lucky we ended up in the same place.”

  “That's great.” I couldn't think about anything but my newfound independence.

  When Jaron took our exit into Provo, I rolled down my window, hoping to take in some of the shady breeze from the neighborhood streets. I rested my chin on my arms to see out the window better. Almost there.

  “This is our street.” He smiled, knowing how excited I was, but kept his eyes on the road in front of us, leaving the moment to me.

  Our street was popular for students. There were too many cars for each house and few looked like the car of a responsible adult or homeowner. BYU stickers and banne
rs showed in more windows than not.

  “So, this is it.” He pulled into a narrow driveway that ran between two nearly identical brick houses. Once we got into the backyard, the driveway split into two. The gravel turned slowly into grass on either side. I guessed it was sort of a free-for-all with parking.

  “We share a backyard then?” I looked between the homes.

  “Yes, but I promise not to watch you too closely,” he joked.

  “It's fine, Jaron. Really.” Jaron watched me, but it wasn't like Mom's constant presence. I still had my own place and could hide anytime I liked.

  I climbed out of his car just as two guys ran up the driveway. Both of them were a sweaty mess from the hot afternoon.

  Jaron smiled and looked over the car at me as they approached. “That's Brian, my roommate. We share the basement. The other guy is Stuart. He and his wife live upstairs and own the house I live in.”

  Brian looked like someone I'd probably avoid. He had tattooed arms and looked older than I did, I'd guess five years. He wasn't a huge guy, but next to my brother and Stuart, he was much broader. He had short, dark brown hair and brown eyes. He moved with a confidence I wasn't used to, and I found myself immediately intimidated by him. Stuart had a head full of shaggy brown hair that was wet from sweat and a wide smile for his narrow face.

  “Hey guys!” Jaron waved. “Leigh, I want you to meet Brian Wright and Stuart Riley.”

  They stopped next to Jaron's car, almost completely out of breath.

  “Nice to meet you guys.” I waited for all the kid sister, little girl stuff, but to my great relief, it never came.

  “It'll be interesting getting to know someone who's put up with Jaron longer than we have.” Brian grinned at my brother, and Jaron smiled back. I could see right away that they were as close as he'd said. I was glad for him. I hoped his relationship with Brian filled some of the gap left by our older brother, Joseph. Joseph left home when Jaron was about thirteen, and we didn't hear from him aside from a signed card for birthdays and Christmas.

  “Well, let's help you haul some of this stuff in,” Stuart offered. “Looks like you brought a few things.” He peered into the backseat.

  “She sews,” Jaron explained as he opened his bursting trunk. “She had a hard time trying to decide what she couldn't live without.”

  “My mom was a tailor.” Brian picked up a bag of mine. “If I remember right, they make a different machine for everything.”

  “Yeah, they do.” I followed Jaron down the concrete steps to my new apartment. It was unlocked, and my room was the only one unoccupied. The carpet looked worn and the furniture probably all came from DI. The small kitchen was right out of 1978—all dark wood and orange—but everything felt clean and tidy. If I stood on my tiptoes, I could see grass through the tiny windows. It took the boys only a few minutes to get everything hauled in.

  “Thanks, guys.” I waved as they ran up the stairs, still high from their run.

  “Well, you know where to find me. I'll do my best to leave you alone.” Jaron started to walk out. “Oh, church is at nine a.m., and we usually hang out on the Rileys’ back porch afterward. You're not required to come, and you're not required to stay awake if you do come.” He winked and left.

  I looked around and smiled. My place. Jaron had found me a bed and a dresser and had stuffed my closet with all types of hangers and three shoe racks. He knew me well. I turned around and was wondering where to set my two sewing machines when I saw a large desk on the far side of my bed. Perfect. I'd have to thank him later.

  “Hey, our new girl must be here!” I heard a girl's voice from my doorway.

  “Come on in.” I turned to face her.

  “I'm Kim.” She stuck out her hand and I took it. She was shorter than me. She had dark hair that fell just above her shoulders and a great body, which was completely on display. Her small running shorts and tank didn't cover much. I was embarrassed to look at her too closely. Mom would have never let me leave the house wearing so little.

  “I'm Megan,” a girl behind her said. I reached out and shook her hand as well. Megan stood a little taller than me, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles. Something about the way she moved made me like her immediately. I couldn't put my finger on it, but she reminded me of my brother.

  “I'm Leigh.” I smiled.

  “Jaron's little sister,” Kim said.

  There it was: “Jaron's little sister.”

  “Yep.” I held in my sigh and started pulling out the clothes that needed to hang.

  “Wow, you have some great stuff in there,” Kim said, skimming over the clothes in my bag.

  “Thanks.” I picked up the small pile in front of her. Seriously, who helps themselves to look through someone's bag? Even if it's open.

  “You sew, is that right?” Megan asked.

  Here we were. The “girl who sews” and “Jaron's little sister.” Brilliant. I lasted a whole five minutes.

  “Yep.” I slid a few skirts onto my arm and turned back to the closet.

  “You made these?” Kim started looking closer at the clothes I was trying to hang up.

  “A lot of them.” I slid another skirt onto a hanger.

  “Well,” Kim said, straightening up, “We're going to have to get to know each other.” She smiled at me. “Okay, I'm off! I need to shower before my date tonight!” She bounded out of the room.

  “Don't mind her,” Megan said quietly. “She's nice; you'll get used to her. We're all going to have a lot of fun together.”

  “Okay.” I wasn't convinced.

  “Do you need any help?” Megan stepped forward.

  “Um… no thanks.” How do you tell someone where to put things when you don't know where they'll be going?

  “When did you get here?” I asked.

  “Oh, I've been in this place for almost two years.” Megan leaned against the door. “I hoped to get my nursing degree done before my missionary comes home, but I'll fall short one semester.”

  “Wow, so you've been waiting for someone for almost two years?” I couldn't imagine.

  “Yep.” She stood a little taller, pleased with herself. “He comes home just before Thanksgiving. I can't wait!”

  “That's great.”

  “And your brother said you were working your way into the architecture program?” She looked unsure.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I'm looking forward to it.”

  “You're crazy.” She shook her head. “Too much math for me.”

  “I like it.” I grabbed a few more hangers from the closet.

  “Well, I guess we'll see you later then. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” She turned back out of my room.

  “Thanks, Megan.” She seemed nice, easy to get along with.

  I had packed carefully; it didn't take me too long to get everything in order. My sewing boxes were already sorted and labeled. Everything sat in its place in no time, and I stood there, completely satisfied, looking at my own room in my own place. I loved it.

  My phone rang in my pocket, pulling me from my train of thought. I glanced down. Mom. My stomach sank—I forgot to call.

  “Sorry, Mom. We're here, we're fine. I didn't mean to get off to a bad start, I was just excited to move in, that's all.”

  There was a pause at the other end. I could tell Mom knew I felt bad, and she was regrouping. She'd probably planned some sort of speech that I'd just saved myself from.

  “Glad you're having fun. How was the drive?”

  “Fine. We stopped for pizza like always and made it in no time at all. Jaron and the other guys from next door helped me get my stuff in. Jaron did a great job getting me the basics, so I'm pretty set.” I sat on the edge of my bed.

  “Well, good. Are you excited about going to your new ward?”

  “Yeah. It'll be weird though. I've never been to a college ward, and Jaron's the ward clerk, so I might not get to sit next to him.”

  “What about your roommates?” Mom asked
.

  “Yeah, I'll probably sit with them.” I had no idea if I would or not, but I knew it would make Mom feel better. “They're nice.”

  “Well, I'm going to try not to bother you too often, but that means you need to call your mom once in a while and let me know how you are, okay?” She was trying, but I found it hard to be patient with her.

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Love you, Leigh.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  I sighed. I wondered if she'd ever believe that I'd be okay.

  two

  I set my alarm for seven in the morning. I wanted to look nice for my first Sunday in my new ward. I picked out one of my favorite pencil skirts, a pair of black platform heels, and a cute little short-sleeved turtleneck. My hair was still shorter than I'd like, but I tried to have fun with it just the same, curling the back tightly and bringing up the sides in pins. I stepped out of the bathroom very pleased with myself.