“Oh, really?” Pa asked.
“Yeah. I think he could use a little project to work on. Get him out of that house.”
“You think his mom will mind?”
“I think she’ll be happy to get him out of her hair, considering that new husband of hers is always high as a kite, and she’s no better. They’d probably see it as us babysitting.”
“Just be careful, Tammy. She may be a mess, but messes can have a lot of pride when someone comes in and makes them feel like they aren’t parenting right.”
“I know it. I’m gonna call over there. See if I can spin it that I need help around the dairy. She don’t have a reason to think it’s anything more than that. And I know she’ll gladly swipe that money from him so she and that man she’s with can get another fix.”
Even though Mason didn’t understand the details of what she was talking about, he could tell by her tone that she’d meant what she’d said about Chase having been dealt a bad hand… and that his parents weren’t good people like Ma or Pa.
Maybe his ma was right about Chase. Maybe Mason could swallow his pride. He was just going to be helping out a little anyway, so what did it matter if he was there a few days? And maybe he’d turn out to be a nice kid, more like the guy who said he was sorry and less like the guy who wrestled him to the ground during their soccer game.
TWO DAYS RACED BY.
Chase and Emery fell back into their old routine, just as they did whenever they’d gotten together since he’d left the dairy so many years earlier. They outlined some preliminary details with Tessa via Skype. And once they’d gotten the wedding stuff out of the way, Emery caught Chase up on town gossip, which was something he could never really get enough of. He wanted to hear about what had happened to everyone since high school—where they were now, who they were married to, who they were running around town with behind their spouses’ backs.
He managed to avoid Mason the way he usually did, seeing him during meals, but rarely in between.
When they sat together for another dinner, Chase reflected on similar evenings at the table when the family would gather with some of the farmhands and himself. Ma and Pa liked to have company over, and company seemed to gravitate to their place, perhaps because of how inviting they were. Or perhaps because they always managed to attract some of the local strays—guys and girls who preferred to escape their own homes.
Chase glanced around, some part of him still expecting Ma to be seated somewhere, but as with so many other times, he remembered that she wasn’t there and she would never be again.
“Jasper, make sure to eat your veggies,” Emery said, flashing him a stern look as he stacked mashed potatoes on his plate.
A smile spread across his round, scruff-covered face. “Potatoes are a veggie.”
“Don’t test me.” Emery had Ma’s attitude when it came to having her way, and just like Ma, her words had Jasper piling green beans on his plate to please her.
Chase had only met Jasper in passing over the years. He was a fairly quiet guy who evidently had a thing for short-sleeved button-ups, but he was always friendly and didn’t seem to give any shits about him or Mason being gay or having been together. Of course, Chase never would have expected Emery to end up with an asshole who would have cared about something like that.
“You mind passing me a roll?” Timmy asked Dwayne, another of Pa’s farmhands who sat with them at the table. Dwayne picked up the bowl from the middle of the table and held it out, but just as Timmy grabbed for it, Dwayne pulled it back.
Everyone laughed like it was some sort of inside joke, one of the many things that reminded Chase of just how distant he was from the days when he was part of all the inside jokes in that house.
“Well, that was thoughtful of you, wasn’t it?” Timmy said as he reached out farther and snatched a roll.
“Sorry. I had to,” Dwayne said.
Timmy and Dwayne had started on the dairy three years earlier and had been immensely helpful with preparing the new milking parlor, pulling extra shifts to make sure all the regular tasks at the old dairy were tended to. As Timmy devoured his roll and snagged another, Chase kind of hated him for how fit he was, how he obviously didn’t have to worry about putting on weight—something Chase had become self-conscious about since he started living in WeHo where it felt like everyone had to maintain a model-esque physique.
“Anyway,” Emery said, continuing her story, “the Joneses were all up in arms when they found out about Gracie paying all her money to that psychic when she didn’t even have money to get groceries for her kids every week.”
“Oh, God, Emery, we might as well watch soap operas during dinner,” Jasper joked, though Chase could tell by the look in his eyes that he was enjoying her rambling, which was good because he was going to be listening to it for a long-ass time.
“Naw. This is much more fun.” Timmy winked at Emery, who didn’t skip a beat before going on.
As she continued, Chase could feel Mason’s eyes on him. He couldn’t explain how, but he could always tell when Mason was looking his way, even if Mason was behind him. Perhaps it was his own sort of psychic power.
Chase wondered if, as Mason listened in on their conversation, his thoughts were returning to the same place—imagining their wedding outside the barn as they exchanged their vows in front of their friends and family. They’d signed the paperwork in Boston a week before they stood in front of the archway, Preacher Baxter to their side. They’d been in love, believed things would only get better, and that they’d only fall more and more in love as they continued their relationship.
Life was simple then, and the only thing that seemed to matter was their love for one another.
When Emery became too busy eating to continue her stories, Pa spoke up. “Timmy, can you rig all the upgrades to the tank by next week?”
“Working as fast as I can, Mike.”
