3. Ford
3
Ford
“ W hich one of us is Tweedle Dee and which one is Tweedle Dum?” Blair asks, her eyes locking with mine, causing me to temporarily freeze and lose track of what I’d just asked. It’s clear I hadn’t thought it through when I’d made that stupid joke, and now, being back in her presence has me feeling completely off-center and out of sorts—something I haven’t felt in a really long time. She’s always had a way of keeping me on my toes, but between our two years of separation and limited contact before that, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to act around her.
It doesn’t help that she looks just as gorgeous as ever. Her eyes, a piercing shade of baby blue, never fail to captivate me, no matter how many times I’ve gazed into them. Then there are her plump, heart-shaped lips that don’t do me any favors either, as I do my best not to look their way. If anything, I train my eyes to look at her hair, which, even after spending the afternoon traveling, looks flawless as it falls in long silky waves over her shoulders.
Ignoring my instincts, my eyes wander as I fully take her in. Blair’s style has always set her apart from everyone here in Evergreen Grove, as if she’s always known she was destined for something bigger—something neither I nor this town could offer her.
From what I can see, she’s wearing jean shorts and a black lacy crop top that accentuates her perfect curves, teasing just the right amount of skin, with a blue and orange flannel worn over it. She’s absolutely stunning, and it takes all my self-control not to gawk, or worse, openly confess just how damn much I’ve missed her.
I get why she never texted me back after the night of my wedding, but that doesn’t make the loss of contact hurt any less. We grew up together, and she was most definitely my person. While I’m happy she and Ronnie stayed close, it sucks that all my knowledge of her life now comes via secondhand gossip from our mutual friend.
“Well?” Ronnie asks, tilting her head as she presses for my answer. “Which one are we?” she prods, pursing her lips, loving the fact that I’ve clearly backed myself into a corner with this one.
“How about we all pretend I didn’t start off with a stupid joke and you let me off the hook?” I beg with a hopeful smile.
“I don’t know, Blair. What do you think? Do we let him off the hook this time?” Ronnie asks, as both of our gazes shift toward our blonde counterpart.
“I think I may be willing to let it go. This time ,” she sighs. “Plus, we all know I’m Tweedle Dee, and Ronnie is Tweedle Dum.”
Ronnie scoffs. “You wish. I’m totally Tweedle Dee, right Ford?” she presses, as they once again put me on blast and in the middle. As familiar as it is to be in this position between the two of them, so much has changed since then, making any sort of answer feel practically impossible.
I just have to hope it isn’t obvious how nervous I am as beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead. “How about you’re both Tweedle Dee and I’m the Tweedle Dum?” I offer, figuring the name is pretty fitting right about now.
“I suppose we shall accept your offering, now take a seat before you have a heart attack,” Ronnie teases as she thankfully shuffles further into the booth so I can slip in next to her.
Once upon a time, I would’ve eagerly chosen to sit next to Blair, hoping for any accidental contact, but things have definitely changed, and not for the better.
“So, what’ve I missed? Besides the two of you starting the fun without me,” I muse, taking in the fact that they are both seemingly ready for margarita number two. At least it doesn’t look like I’ve missed dinner, as the table only holds their drinks and the complimentary chips and salsa.
“Not much,” Ronnie casually shares as she reaches for a chip and coats it in salsa. “Although, Blair did mention that she and Max are on yet another break,” she adds, before stuffing the bite into her mouth.
“Oh,” I say, an odd mix of guilt and happiness swirling inside me at the news. I’ve never liked Max, especially since he was the one who got her to leave Evergreen Grove in the first place. “I’m sorry,” I offer, looking toward Blair as I do my best to convey genuine sympathy, even if it’s all forced and completely fake. While he might have changed since I first met him, my gut instinct has always been that she deserves someone far better. Nobody merits being with a cheating asshole, especially not someone as special as Blair.
“I’m sure we’ll get back together when I get home. We always figure it out, so no need to feel bad.” She shrugs, brushing my words off as she lifts her glass and slides her lips around the straw. I hate myself for noticing just how perfectly full they are, as well as the dangerously wicked thoughts about where I’d like to have those lips go next. While I’ve only felt them against my own once, my body somehow seems to remember just how amazing that kiss was and how soft and pillowy they were, aching to experience it all over again. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest choice to sit directly across from her, as I now have a completely unobstructed view of her unmatched beauty.
“Well, we definitely didn’t get that far into the conversation,” Ronnie half scoffs, shooting Blair a penetrating stare.
“It’s not like it should be a big surprise. Plus, I never hinted at anything different.” She shrugs, purposely avoiding not only my face, but Ronnie’s as well, as she stares down at her practically empty glass and swirls her straw in it.
“I’m not looking to ruin dinner or your first night back by explaining why I think getting back with him is a bad idea, and I hope you know I’ll always support you in whatever you decide, but you have to know my opinion on the matter. You deserve so much better than what Max offers you, which we all know isn’t much, so I have to imagine the bar isn’t set very high.”
Blair’s jaw clenches and her lips fall into a straight line. God, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop staring at her damn lips?
“Well, we can’t all have a Pete now, can we?” Blair shoots back, in what I’m assuming is supposed to be a playful manner, but misses the mark, especially as Ronnie’s shoulders slump.
“I promise I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m sorry. Can we start over and change the subject please,” Ronnie pleads, pouting her lips.
“I know,” Blair sighs, sounding a bit more sincere this time as she reaches a hand across the table. Ronnie takes it, seeming to settle their differences with that simple touch.
Being in the middle of this should probably have me feeling weird and uncomfortable, but if anything, it only takes me back. As the middleman in their friendship, I often found myself reluctantly involved in their conflicts, as they had their ups and downs. However, they’ve always found a way to make up rather quickly.
“Speaking of Pete, I don’t even remember much about him,” Blair adds as she pulls her hand back to grab a chip. “If I’m being honest, he was never someone I paid all that much attention to.”
“That’s how I felt too,” I chime in, Blair’s eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before she averts her gaze just as quickly and dips her chip in the salsa.
Before I can fully analyze it, the waitress interrupts, placing their tacos on the table and multitasking by taking my order and fetching more margaritas for the ladies.
“But you like Pete now, right?” Ronnie asks the second we’re left alone, pulling us right back into the previous conversation.
“Yeah, sure,” I shrug, not sure what else to say. “I mean, we aren’t close, and I don’t expect us to be, but he seems to make you happy, so I have no complaints,” I lie, doing my best to hide all of my worries and suspicions. Besides, I’m not in the mood to open that can of worms, especially since I’ve always taken my role as the group peacemaker rather seriously.
Perhaps, as one of her closest friends, it falls upon me to step in and advise her against someone who doesn’t seem to compliment her in a way that I think she deserves, but it all feels so complicated. My ongoing separation from my ex has left me feeling jaded and skeptical about love, likely altering my perspective on things unfairly. It just doesn’t feel right to project my own issues onto Ronnie and her relationship.
The only problem is that both of these women know me better than anyone else. Even Blair seems to sense something up with my answer, despite the two of us not having spoken in over two years.
“I think you both just need to spend some more time around him.” Ronnie tries to assure us. “I know that he seems a bit too serious and can come across as being rough around the edges, but once you get to know him he’s awesome,” she adds as their drinks are placed on the table, along with my usual Dr Pepper.
While I’m not opposed to drinking, letting loose, and partaking in the age-old tradition of five-dollar margaritas, I have a feeling that since it’s a special night with Blair finally coming home and Ronnie’s upcoming nuptials these ladies might benefit from having a designated driver.
“Well, I have the next two and a half weeks off, so I’m hopeful that we can fit in some future-husband bonding time.” Blair nods as she pushes her empty glass toward the waitress before immediately diving into margarita number two.
“Well, I’m saving my leave for my two-week honeymoon after the wedding, and I’m pretty sure Ford here,” she says, nudging her elbow into my arm, “has to work these next two weeks as well, but during the nights we are all yours. Right, Fordy?”
“Oh, uh yeah. Sure.” I nod. As a newly single man, my responsibilities these days are limited to work, and that’s about it. However, I can sense Blair’s disapproval through a cold stare, making me doubt she wants me to be a part of her nights in town. Despite everything, I continue on. “I also suspected that I’d be needed this week, so I planned ahead and have all of my lesson plans figured out for the next few weeks as well, so I’m all yours for whatever you need,” I assure Ronnie, glancing her way to a much warmer smile.
While I was a groomsman in my older brother’s wedding, I can’t say I’ve ever been part of a bridal party before or know what all is involved. However, I’ve always been someone who likes to be prepared, and since I know Ronnie, I figured it’s best to be there for whatever she needs. She’s always been the bossy one of the group, and honestly, we love her for it.
“Ugh, that’s so smart,” Ronnie whines, blowing out a breath of air. “I’m constantly flying by the seat of my pants and can’t plan more than a day or two ahead.”
“Why does none of this surprise me, yet also fits you both so well?” Blair interrupts with a soft giggle—a melodic sound I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until now. Growing up, I’d practically made it my life’s mission to make her laugh, especially since it was always so unique and just so her.
“Well, I’d offer to help plan, but art isn’t exactly my forte. There’s a reason I teach science and stay as far away from the arts as possible,” I say with an apologetic shrug.
“I guess I’ll just have to plan my own lessons then,” Ronnie sighs, adding an overdramatic gag as she sticks out her tongue. “I really mean it, though. We need to plan some night outings. Pete is going to be a big part of my life now, and since the two of you have always been and will continue to be some of my favorite people, I need you all to get along.”
“Whatever you want and need. You know I’ll do it,” I assure her, reaching an arm around her shoulders as I pull her into a small side hug. I meant what I said earlier. While I don’t see Pete and me becoming super close, I’m open to giving him a chance.
“Oh, I know!” Ronnie perks up, sitting up straight as some of the liquid from her glass sloshes over the edge. I quickly dodge the spill, moving back into my spot. “Maybe tomorrow night we can have a barbecue at Pete’s place. He’s got this gorgeous house just off Main Street, and well, I suppose it’ll be my house soon too. That way you can all see it.”
“Yeah, sure,” Blair agrees, taking another long draw from her straw.
“I’m in too. Just let me know what to bring,” I add.
“Oh man, you’re still such a suck-up, aren’t you, Hastings?” Blair teases with another small giggle.
“What?” I ask, an amused grin tugging at my features.
“What are you? An actual adult? Offering to bring something to a barbecue,” she further scoffs.
“I hope I’d be considered an adult. We are twenty-eight now, after all. I even have a nice big-boy job to prove it.” I try to play along, not really sure where she’s going with this. I also suspect that the now almost-empty second glass might be playing its part a little too well.
“Are you saying I don’t have an adult job?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.
“Whoa!” Ronnie thankfully chimes in, seeming just as taken aback as I am by the direction this conversation has taken.
I hold up my hands. “No, not at all. If anything, you should know how proud I am of you. We’re a bunch of high school teachers while you travel around the world taking pictures of some of the biggest and most well-known bands out there. Believe me, if anyone has a reason to be jealous, it’s us,” I assure her as Ronnie eagerly nods along next to me.
Maybe I shouldn’t care so much about making this up to her, especially since she was the one coming at me with this weird hostility, but despite the distance and the way our friendship has grown apart these past few years, I find myself wanting and needing her approval. One thing I’ve unfortunately realized about myself is that I’ll always care a bit too much about what Blair Bennett thinks about me.
“Yeah, no need to get upset. In fact, I think this calls for another round of drinks,” Ronnie not so helpfully decides as the waitress sets down my plate of food before nodding her head as she goes off to put in their next order of margaritas. Something tells me I have a long night ahead.