“Ah, like that, is it?”
“Yep.”
The conversation is making me borderline uncomfortable, but I’m digging the unapologetic way Luke’s handling it.
“So are you two like a thing now? ‘Cause if you are, I hope you’ve thought it through. I hope it’s serious, ‘cause it’s going to cause a major headache for your mom and Greg if it goes tits up. If it’s like some kind of…dallianceor something, it’s going to wind up being way more trouble than it’s worth.”
“We haven’t exactly…” I start, but Luke cuts me off, using a voice that’s a hell of a lot more certain than the one I just used.
“It’s serious,” says Luke.
He says it plainly. With absolute certainty. His tone is mild, but his face is set. His eyes are a sky of blue without so much as a hint of cloud. His lips are soft and pink, puffy enough to make him look sweet. The slant of his head is what does it. It gives the unmistakable impression that this man cannot be moved.
Jesus. The balls on this guy.
Momma’s boy sure knows how to handle his shit.
We start heading to the entertainment room to shoot some pool, but on the way there Luke turns and heads back to the kitchen to make one of his famous snack platters. It leaves Gould and I with no choice but to keep walking on our own. The exact opposite of my idea of a good time.
The tension in the room ratchets up almost immediately. We set up a game of pool and I break. When it’s Gould’s turn, he shoots with such force he hits a cue clean off the table.
“Easy,” I say.
He doesn’t answer but looks at me in a way that makes me wonder if today’s the day Gould and I come to blows. I can’t deny I’d love the opportunity to kick his ass. I’d enjoy every second of it. I kind of crave it, if I’m being totally honest.
I’m as surprised as he is to hear myself say, “If you have something to say to me, Gould, just say it. You’re going to upset Luke if you’re a dick about this.”
“I’mgoing to upset Luke? Oh, I think you’ve got that wrong. Luke’s my best friend. We’ve been friends since we were eight. I’d never do anything to upset him and even if I was dumb enough to try, I couldn’t.You’rethe one who’s going to hurt him. You’re the only one who can.”
Luke walks in right then bearing a long wooden board laden with smoked meat and an assortment of cheese. Gould changes the conversation seamlessly. We both keep things light and neither of us talk about anything more serious than our next shot. I focus a huge amount of my attention on keeping my eyebrows arched nice and high and trying to hide the fact that what Gould said hit me like a kick in the guts.
He stays for a couple of hours, long enough that the mood has time to shift from stilted and awkward back to the comfortable banter that feels normal for the three of us by the time he leaves.
“Well, that went well,” I say sarcastically as we wave him off.
“That’s Gould for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that’s what Gould’s like. He gets worked up about shit, but he gets over it and it’s like it never happened.”
Um, not exactly how I read the situation.
“You know he has a huge thing for you, right?”
“No, he hasathing for me, not a huge thing. That’s not how Gould works. It’s no big deal. He has a low level of interest in lots of people but believe me, he’s never lost sleep over anyone. It’s either not how he’s made, or he hasn’t met the right person yet.”
“I’m going with not how he’s made.”
Luke grins, “Fine, I’ll go with he hasn’t met the right person yet.”
We walk back to the guest house. The unspoken urgency to get back to the important matter of boning lengthens our strides.
“He’s wrong about you, Jess,” says Luke, without breaking his step.
“Who’s wrong about what?” I admit, the aforementioned urgency to bone may be disrupting my processing skills.
“Gould. He’s wrong about you. You’re not going to hurt me.”
