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Steve lived in a double-wide trailer that had been there as long as Jake could remember. The tangle of steel and rubber at the bottom hid behind a layer of masterfully-laid rocks. The large porch connected to a carport, which gave way to the only entrance into the fence surrounding the house. A cattle guard kept the animals out.
An imposing satellite dish took up most of the back yard, no longer serving any purpose. In their childhood, however, Steve and Jake would stay up all hours of the night trying to catch the pre-aired shows that secretly flew across unpublished satellite links. Occasionally they would hit the motherlode and catch Star Trek: The Next Generation days early. Before girls, such a feat served as the epitome of excitement.
The smell of barbecue saturated the air as Jake walked towards the house. Not simply hamburgers or hotdogs on an open grill, but real, slow-cooked barbecue; likely brisket, the national meat of Texas. The people of Rose Valley heralded Steve for his skills with a smoker.
It looked like Cory had already arrived. The driveway was otherwise empty, which Jake took to mean that Deirdre had not yet arrived. Despite the craziness enveloping Rose Valley, Jake found himself anxious about tonight. He felt like a teenager again as he prepared for the evening, trying on multiple outfits, never quite being satisfied with his options. He settled for a short-sleeve button-up over an army green t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He had very nearly shaved off his beard, but thought better of it and settled for a close trim. He looked as respectable as he could muster.
As recently as a few days ago, Jake had written off the Deirdre he’d known in high school. A stoic and cold professional now took her place. She had led him back from injuries that could have left him maimed for life. The prospect of spending time with her outside the clinic now exhilarated but also terrified him.
Putting his post-divorce life back together served as a full-time job, giving him little time to ponder whether he wanted a relationship. A script played in his head, warning him that any attempt at something new would only be ruined by all the same mistakes. As he finally walked onto the porch to start the night, he briefly considered going back to the shanty and texting in sick.
As Jake reached up to knock, he marveled at the resiliency of the human mind. Not twenty-four hours beforehand, they had all been part of something that should have altered their perception of reality, and maybe it had in ways that hadn’t yet registered. Here they gathered, worried about relationships and barbecue, pretending like the violent creature skulking in the shadows didn’t really exist. Maybe as defense mechanism, but Jake welcomed the distraction.
The door opened without him having to knock. Cory emerged on the other side of the screen door wearing a blue apron with a cowboy boot on the front, his easy smile shining.
“Are you Steve’s sous chef now?” Jake teased as Cory propped open the screen door for him.
“I wish. He won’t let me touch anything. Every time I try to help, he takes over. I think he might have a complex. He did let me set the table, though, so I guess I’m more of a maid.”
Jake laughed and stepped into the house, still surprised at the decades-old decorations that still filled the shelves and walls. When Steve had moved in after his parents’ passing, he’d left things mostly the same.
A few new additions dotted the room here and there, however. Steve’s high school rodeo trophies adorned some of the shelves. The number of photos increased over the years, now showing off his parents, his brother, and Cory. The television stretched larger than Steve’s mom would ever allow, and the giant computer desk that had once taken up a large portion of the living room had now morphed into a small, skinny table bearing no electronics whatsoever.
“Have a seat.” Cory ushered Jake into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, beer, bourbon?”
Cory and Jake didn’t know each other very well. Surprisingly, Cory hadn’t gone to school with them in Rose Valley. He had grown up in an even smaller town—if that could be believed—called Pecan Pass, fifteen miles up the road.
“I’ll just take some water,” Jake said. “If you’ve got any.”
Cory grinned. “I dunno. If it weren’t for me, I think Steve would live on canned beans. His cupboards are pretty bare.”
Cory disappeared into the kitchen, just around the corner from the living room. Jake could hear the preparations underway. The living room boasted only a couch and a loveseat, and Jake lowered himself into the latter.
Cory popped around the corner. “Heads up.”
A bottle of water came hurtling through the air. Jake twisted to catch it but missed and the bottle sailed past and struck the floor. Cory laughed. Jake picked it up and took a long swallow, wishing he had been graced with better reflexes.
Steve’s voice echoed from the kitchen: “Are you nervous?”
Jake figured the question was for him. “Umm... I dunno. I guess? I’m mostly confused. She never let on at the clinic.”
Steve appeared from around the corner, wearing no apron. Just his typical Wranglers, t-shirt and cowboy boots. “I dunno about that, but she seemed all kinds of excited when I invited her. You must have tickled her fancy somehow.”
“I bet he tickled her fancy real good,” Cory said.
Steve turned back to the kitchen with a smile on his face. “Back to work, you.”
He walked towards the door, grabbed a baseball cap from a rack full of them, and turned back to Jake, cocking his head towards the open door. Jake recognized the nod as friend code for “come outside with me so we can talk.” Jake grabbed his bottle of water and followed Steve outside to the smoker. Jake’s mouth began to water as they got closer to it. It smelled divine.
Steve focused on the barbecue when he spoke. “I don’t know where this is leading with Dee, but I’ll tell you the same thing now that I told you twenty some-odd years ago. Sometimes the best option is the one right under your nose.”
Jake took a few beats to comprehend. In high school, Jake had been hopelessly devoted to Deirdre, enamored with her intelligence, wit, and beauty. She never showed an interest in dating him, but when even the mere hope presented itself, Jake would return to her side—no matter who he left behind. Steve and Jake shared the bond of brothers. Steve never got left behind.
Shandi, on the other hand...
“That’s high school stuff,” Jake said. “We’re all adults now. Shandi’s moved on. Assuming she ever even liked me to begin with.”
“Oh, she definitely did. I think you were both too stupid to realize it, though. Why was everyone in high school so stupid?”
“Except you, of course.”
“Naturally. Everyone should just listen to me. All the time. The world would be such a better place.”
“You’re the one who invited her.”
“Cory made me... bastard.” Steve couldn’t contain the smile when he mentioned Cory. “Seriously, though. Dee’s great, don’t get me wrong. But she strung you along back then, and I just want to make sure you don’t let her do it again.”
Jake felt brotherly warmth. He had stormed back into Steve’s life out of nowhere and Steve would have been well within his rights to treat Jake like a stranger, but he hadn’t. He had taken Jake in. Treated him like family.
Jake squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. Don’t worry. I got this.”
Steve nodded. “Okay. At least we had ‘the talk’. Now, don’t go destroying my guest house with your escapades, comprende?”
“No promises,” Jake replied with a wink, as the barking of multiple dogs pierced the air.
Soon after came the familiar crunching of gravel as a black Cadillac CTS pulled around the corner and parked behind Steve’s truck, just barely clearing the cattle guard.
“Looks like you’re up, Casanova.”
Jake walked away from Steve towards the car. Two of Steve’s shepherds stared expectantly at the car door. Ungrateful mutts. Where had they been when he’d walked over?
He visited Deirdre at least once a week since he’d returned to Rose Valley, but as she stepped out of the car, he saw Dee for the first time in twenty years. The dogs trailed behind her as though she carried prime rib in her pockets. Jake found her equally irresistible. She seemed otherworldly, encompassing years of fantasy and regret.
“Hey, you,” she said as they drew close enough to one another. Her perfume clouded him, mingling with the smell of the barbecue.
No. Jake did not have this under control at all.
