Page 20 of The Best Kind of Bad

“In honor of your mom?”

How does she know all these details? “Yeah. She had Celiac Disease.”

She nods. “I thought that’s what he said.”

I didn’t know he was paying that much attention. He was a quiet guy. Reserved to the point of being grouchy. When I was a kid, I used to think of him as a big, grumpy teddy bear. I used to love spending a few weeks at the farm every summer.

But as I got older, the fishing holes and the sandlot baseball games lost their appeal. And I stopped going. After a while, Gus occupied less and less of my thoughts.

It’s cutting me pretty deep to know that he was keeping close tabs on me all the while.

Exhaustion crashes into me like a wave. It’s been a long, strange night. Not wanting these two to see me deconstruct, I nod sharply. “Well, nice meeting you both. I’m going to crash, but I’ll see you in the morning?”

I make eye contact with Dusty. Trying to ignore the zing that passes between us, I turn on my heel and retreat, grateful for the shadows.

14.

Dusty

I might have slept an hour or two. I’m not sure. It felt like I spent the entire night staring at the ceiling. My thoughts are like Ed chasing his tail. I worry about the farm and that gets me thinking about Marnie. Thinking about Marnie gets me hard and then I’m frustrated and thinking about how this exasperating woman is going to be my Achille’s heel. And then, I’m worrying about the farm again.

Round and round.

I’ve been lying in bed for hours, waiting for enough daylight to get started.

I’m not an early bird by choice. But any Nebraskan knows that the best time to get work done in the summer is right off the bat.

Better to get soaked with morning dew than to bake in the afternoon sun.

I stop in the bathroom, slapping cold water on my face, like that might wake me up. Shaving quickly, I pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

I’m waiting for my coffee to brew when I hear Ed kicking up a storm in the yard. Walking to the window, I spot Juice’s shitty hatchback Volkswagen puttering down the drive.

I step into my boots and wander outside.

“Ed. Hush.” I cast a wary glance at Gus’s house. This would not be a good time for Marnie to make an appearance.

When Juice climbs out of his car, his cousin gets out, too, and then I’m doubly sure this would not be a good time for Marnie to show up. I’m not happy about Skunk knowing where I live, but I sure as shit don’t want him knowing this is where a woman like Marnie lives.

Even if it is just for a short time.

Juice saunters over, Skunk hot on his heels. Ed shifts on his paws, fur bristling.

“Awfully early for you, ain’t it, Juice?”

“This ain’t early, it’s late. We haven’t gone to bed yet.”

Skunk is peering up at the barn. “Nice place. Juice said you converted the barn into an apartment?”

“Yup.”

Skunk focuses on me. “That take a lot of work?”

“A shit ton.”

Juice cracks his neck, peering out at the lightening indigo sky. “We just thought we’d stop by with your order before I forgot about it.”

He slaps hands with me, passing the baggy over.

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