I don’t get the chance to let those questions fester because I don’t even get to the front door before Eliza is there and wrapping me up in a hug. Returning it is natural and she giggles while practically bouncing on her toes.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she gushes, but there’s something off in her tone.
“What are you up to?” My question is light and curious. She’s too excited and is up to something. I look her over and narrow my eyes before looking down at my own outfit. “Why are you dressed up?”
She huffs and rolls her eyes before grabbing me and pulling me into the house. “I spend so much time out here that someone coming over is the perfect excuse to dress up a little,” she explains.
“Okay,” I guess I can understand what she’s saying, but still. “How are things?” I hit my shoulder against hers, my voice dropping as I take in how my best friend is glowing.
I don’t even need her to answer. It’s written all over her face. She’s happy. Things are beyond good.
“It’s an adjustment,” she whispers, her face serious for a moment. Then her face breaks out into a huge smile, one that sparkles. “But it’s a good one. I love it out here and I love him.”
With a squeeze of her arm I nod slowly, my voice filled with warmth, “I’m happy for you, Eliza.”
“Now if only a man will come out of nowhere and sweep you off your feet,” there’s a glint in her eyes that makes me wary.
She doesn’t lead me into the living room, where I thought we’d devolve into a snack-fest of junk and deliciousness. It’s how this usually goes. We gossip. We eat something.
Kendrick always smiles indulgently at Eliza. The way he looks at her is downright salacious. I love it for her, but I don’t necessarily love it in my face.
Normally he slinks away somewhere, and we have our best friend time. I’ve been looking forward to tonight.
The moment we step into the dining room, I freeze.
It’s not because dinner is set up, ready to be eaten, without a single chip or bag of candy in view. No, what has me impersonating a statue is finding Ford Conners sitting at the table. He’s pulled his hat off and I’m sure it’s sitting on his knee, pretty as you please.
He runs his fingers through his dark hair, which has gotten longer than he usually lets it grow, before he looks up at me. His whiskey-colored eyes flash with something, but then it’s gone and what I don’t see is recognition.
My stomach revolts and I have to swallow hard and force my feet to move toward the table. I hardly look at it before looking at my friend and giving her a mighty tug toward the kitchen. “Was there anything I can help you with in the kitchen?” Before she can answer, I’m on the move and add, “Let’s go check and make sure.”
“Right,” she says with the grace of a man lost in the desert who see his first oasis mirage, “of course.”
I roll my eyes and pull her into the kitchen which is pretty much all cleaned up. There is nothing that needs to be taken out to the table. Covering my strange exit is a problem for later.
I hiss, “What are you doing?”
Eliza blinks at me a few times with confusion written all over her face. “I invited you to dinner, Arden,” she says the words slowly like I’m the one being weird about this. Am I? I don’t even know at this point. “I also invited Ford to dinner. He runs Sagebrush, you know, next door. Well,” she sighs, “when everything was going down with Cody, Kendrick might have accused him of having something to do with it.”
My mouth drops open and my brain goes a little haywire. I snap my mouth closed and whisper, “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” she nods, her face grave. “When I found out about it, I couldn’t let it go. I went right over to Sagebrush and wanted to mend fences, metaphorical ones this time.” She giggles slightly, but I can’t join her as horror climbs up my spine. “Apparently, the families used to be close, but something happened and things fell apart. I don’t even know, and it was probably silly, and it definitely doesn’t matter now,” she waves her hand dismissively with her words.
“Where are Harold and Cliff?” I ask only because I’m having issues processing everything she just told me.
I think I did hear whispers about a falling out and how sad it was. It’s fake pity people love to get out there because it makes them look good, not because they really feel it. Which is why I don’t really listen to it.
I’ve seen how the whispers in town can mold people.
Look at Kendrick, he left years ago because people judged him and chose for him the kind of person he was. From what I’ve seen of him, with the way he treats Eliza, those rumors were wildly overblown.
Those same whispers tried to chase around my best friend when the two of them got together.
And just look at her. She’s luminous.
We should all be so lucky.
An ache starts in my chest and spreads. It’s the same feeling I always get when I think about Ford. The same man who is in the next room sitting at a table where I should be sitting right now. Instead, I’m having a hush-hush conversation with Eliza.
