Page 69 of Hung Up
At the risk of treading into dangerous waters, I feel an unexplainable urge to ask her, “And what if I already know that it’s more for him?”
“Did you lay out terms?” I nod. “Clear ones?” Another nod. “And he agreed?” One more. “Then I’ll never judge you for how you handle this thing between you two. He’s a big boy, and even though I don’t want to see him get hurt, he has no one to blame but himself at the end of this, in my opinion. I know that doesn’tsound very sistery of me. I just call it like it is. Now, if you were talking to Addie? Oh, she’d have words.”
“You’re really not mad?”
Stevie laughs. “God, no. Faith, I make a new deal every weekend. I had an exclusive friends-with-benefits here in town for about six months at one point. I’m probably the only one who actually gets it.”
“That’s a relief,” I breathe, sinking further into the porch swing cushions. “I have to admit, I was a little nervous to come here in lieu of how the last few moments between him and I have been. I didn’t want you guys to hate me or anything.”
“Please.” Stevie slaps my forearm gently. “Even if it doesn’t work out, the fact that Jesse, my playboy brother who has been photographed in the news with other women more than he has been on a bull, hasn’t been seen in the paper in weeks… You did something no other woman has been able to do, and for that we could never hate you.”
“What’s that?”
She smiles. “Showed him how to lead with his heart.”
Even though that thought brings an onset of brief, momentary panic, I find the corners of my lips tipping upward. All pretenses aside, it’s flattering to know I helped him change in some shape or form.
“Okay, ladies,” Jesse says, stepping onto the porch and stopping the need for me to try to muster up a response. He eyes the two of us carefully before settling his gaze on me. “Time for dinner. Let’s get scooting.”
“Let’s get scooting?” I laugh, swaying slightly as the porch swing slides back as I go to stand. “What, like Boot Scootin’ Boogie?”
Stevie grabs my hand, dragging me behind her as we head down the porch steps. “You’ve taught her well, brother. She knows a classic.”
“He can’t get all the credit.” We round the side of his house, and I spot two four-wheelers—one a two-seater, the other a single. “I might have been on country radio on my Spotify. I was tired of being a fish out of water at the bars we were going to.”
The smile on Jesse’s face is one I can’t discern, so I turn to Stevie. She’s climbing onto the two-seater, patting the spot beside her. As I start to walk over, Jesse grabs my arm, stopping me as he narrows his eyes on his sister. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking my new bestie to the main house,” she states, matter-of-factly, and I have to bite my lip to suppress my smile. “Who do you think you are to get in the way of girl time?”
“Didn’t you already have girl time?” he asks with a pout, but he lets go of my arm. “You’ve already spent more time with her than I have.”
I climb onto the seat while Stevie tilts her head like she’s deep in thought. “You’ve had her a lot for, what, eight weekends? Ten? I think you’ve had plenty of time, brother.” She turns the key, kicking on the engine, and the noise is so loud that Jesse doesn’t hear her as she says, “I bet you’re mediocre in bed, anyway.”
He does hear the laugh that slips out of me, and I watch his brows furrow in confusion before Stevie takes off. We stay on the dirt road I took to get here, passing by one of the pastures that seems to be housing some cattle. However, instead of taking a right down the dirt road about five minutes later, she begins to drive on the grass, only there’s fairly obvious tire tracks to signify they’ve been riding these four-wheelers through here for a while. As we crest the hill, I can’t stop my jaw from dropping.
The barn is extremely large but gorgeous. It’s painted all white with dark brown wood accent pieces circling the entire exterior. From here, I can see a giant SR in what appears to be metal hanging above the main door. Off to the left are some corrals and I see a few guys on horseback watching another as heruns forward before coming to an abrupt stop. One of the men sitting on the post jumps off with a tape measure and measures the distance. A couple seconds later, it’s obvious that one of them is very happy with the news. The sight causes a smile to tug at my lips.
I’ve been finding a lot of joy in watching others do what they love lately.
That thought brings a new ache to my chest. Maybe work isn’t that thing for me anymore, and I need to figure out what is.
Once we pass the barn, we hit a new dirt road uphill and twisting to the right. Once we reach the top, I’m staring at yet another beautiful home. This one is similar to Jesse’s, only much, much larger. A wrap-around porch circles the exterior of an all white house with dark wood trim around all the large floor-to-ceiling windows on the main floor. The roof has dark brown shingles to match the wood of the house, and in the distance, I can see what appears to be a chicken coop.
“This is the main house where we all grew up,” Stevie informs me, speaking loud enough for me to hear her before we roll to a stop next to a yellow pickup truck. “Although it’s been renovated, of course. Mom is the only one who lives here now that my house is finally built. I’m on the east corner of the property since Addie and Nash needed to be closer to the barn.” Jesse pulls up, parking beside us and shutting off his four-wheeler. “Gets a little lonely sometimes since I’m so far away. I still don’t understand why a certain someone had to go and pick the south corner, considering he rides bulls, not horses.”
“You’re still on that?” We climb off and meet Jesse at the bottom of the porch steps. It’s only then that I notice there’s six rocking chairs, not five. “Dad delegated, I didn’t pick.”
She scoffs, pushing open the front door without knocking. “Yeah, well, you could’ve told Mom, ‘Hey, since Stevie has a horse she rides all the time that stays in the barn and I ridethousand-pound death machines, she can build closer to the barn’.”
The house takes my breath away as we step inside. It’s an open floor plan with vaulted ceilings and wood beams crisscrossing to make the space appear larger. The living room off to my right has a large fireplace, the brick going all the way up to the ceiling, with a television mounted above it. There’s a sectional large enough to fit all four siblings with two love seats on either side, circling a beautiful glass coffee table. Straight ahead is the kitchen with dark brown wood cabinets and an island bigger than my bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows bring in plenty of natural light, but I still don’t miss the gorgeous hanging lights over the island or the lights built into the ceiling above the countertops.
There’s a hallway that I can’t even fathom going down as I catch sight of the enormous dining room table. You’d think they had twelve children with this table, not four. Pictures hang up everywhere. Photos of the siblings at all stages of life, pictures of construction, which I’m assuming is from the ranch, and pictures of his parents from when they were young, to their wedding day, to not long before he passed.
This is what a home is supposed to feel like.
Except maybe a little bit smaller—for me at least.
“Are you two really still having this conversation?” A new voice calls out. A tall blonde rounds the corner, emerging from a hallway off to the right. “I thought we moved past this years ago.”
