3. Tee
Tee
Present day
A ware I’m doing a great impression of a goldfish, I gape at Zee, the most wonderfully epic, awesomely fabulous best friend in the whole Milky Way, and her husband.
It’s not that they’re standing so close together they might as well be in each other’s skins. (Cannibalism by osmosis?)
It’s not that I caught them making out this morning and I can officially declare that Colton Korhonen has serious game. (No, I’m not jealous because Zee deserves the universe, and if marrying the eldest Korhonen son achieved that, then good.)
It’s that Colton said, “If you want to move back to Pigeon Creek, Tee, then we have plenty of room here.”
Here being the Seven Cs ranch.
Here being our town’s equivalent of J.R. Ewing’s homestead.
HERE BEING THE HOME OF MY BEST FRIEND IN THE GALAXY.
“Did we break her?” Colton mutters when I continue staring at him like he’s grown a second head.
Zee snorts. “She’s being Tee.”
I’ll accept the fact my name is an adjective.
But I don’t care.
I can’t.
After B i tch Cassidy dumped me via a ‘Dear John’ letter, where he wished me ‘health and happiness’ like he was writing his bank manager a holiday card, the prospect of returning to New York City has been a nightmare. One less rudder holding me steady. Parker, my other BFF that Zee and I have shared custody of, is no longer in the tristate area and has returned to Ohio, so I’d literally be home alone.
I’m not Macaulay Culkin—I can’t be home alone. Home alone is a bad place for me, ergo Colton’s offer is a cowboy-shaped miracle.
My eyes fill with tears. “Are you sure, Colton?”
I know I’m doing a great impression of Anne of Green Gables, or do I mean Oliver Twist? After all, I’ve been handed a bowl of something for breakfast and it’s not gruel, but Morning Crisp—the breakfast choice for anyone with good sense.
But… nobody lets a BFF come and live with them and their wife.
I must have misheard.
Zee finally detaches herself from her husband’s side.
I’m shocked there isn’t a popping sound because they’re obviously attached via massive suction pads.
Her arm drifts around my shoulders and she tucks me in for a hug.
Because she gives the best hugs, I nuzzle my face into her throat, not surprised that she doesn’t jolt as I invade her personal space.
Hey, this is a friendship that’s twenty-four years in the making.
I know when she’s genuinely being cranky and when her blood sugar is off. I’ve had to shower, dress, and feed her when she can’t get her levels right. Hell, I’ve held her hand in a hospital bed when her hypoglycemia has been out of control.
And for all that, she accepts me. Embraces my kooky nature. Loves me despite my self-confessed whackadoodle personality.
Like she read my mind, she hugs me back—tighter than tight. “He means it.”
Her whisper has me sobbing as I peer at him over her shoulder, but I can’t wreck this for her, so I have to give him nothing but the truth: “I’m annoying, Colton.”
He clears his throat. “I’m sure you’re no?—”
“No. I am. Very annoying.” I bite my lip, knowing that his generosity deserves zero sugarcoating. “I’ll try not to be, but it’s who I am. Some people are assholes, you know? That’s me.” I shrug when Zee snickers in my ear but doesn’t disagree. “I play music at weird hours. I’ll eat all the cereal, and I guarantee I’ll say the things no one should talk about at the dinner table.”
“Okay?”
“He means it,” Zee repeats. “You can come and live with us.”
The words sink into me.
The promise, the hope, the joy?—
“You need to move away so I can squeal,” I warn, heart flowing to overfull when she laughs but slips out of my hold and lets me release a big, “Whoopppeeeeee!”
Colton jumps when I grab his hand and drag him in for a hug too.
“You will totally regret this, Colton, but I’m so freakin’ thankful!” I crow as I wiggle him from side to side. (My dude needs to work on loosening up the tension in his hips.) “I’m going to write a song for you. That’s what I’ll do. No, not a song. An opera. Do you like opera?”
“Not particularly?—”
“How about an EP?”
“Tell her what you want, Colt. She’ll do it.”
His brow furrows when I peer all the way up at him—bitch, I know I’m short, but he’s like a palm tree. “You’ll make an EP for me?”
“Sure. It’ll be great. I need to study you for a little while. Get to learn about the man behind the Korhonen.”
“Is that necessary?” He grimaces. “You don’t have to?—”
“Sure, I do! You’re giving me my best friend back.”
“I’m loaning her to you.”
“Okay, we’ll work out a schedule.” I pat his chest. “It’ll be fine. I promise it’ll be at least 60/40 in my favor.”
That he bursts out laughing tells me he thinks I’m joking. Well aware I’m not, Zee hides another smile as she tucks her arm around his waist. When he kisses her temple, it’s so high-fructose sweet that I have to sigh.
“50/50.” I beam with happiness as I dart forward and pinch her cheek and then his. “You two are so cute, and we’re going to have the best time!”
“I’m sure,” Colt drawls. “Now, I have some work to do, ladies.”
“Yes, you go work and make money, Colton, and I’ll entertain Zee,” I exclaim.
“You’re too generous,” Colton retorts, but he’s shaking his head as he leaves this mahoosive room they call a ‘den.’
Honestly, it’d fit ten hibernating grizzlies.
Both of us wait until he’s at the doorway before, having watched him leave, we tunnel into each other’s arms and dance in a circle, making a racket as we squeal with joy.
Once we pull apart, I get the strangest feeling that someone’s watching me, but when I twist and turn, the den’s empty.
Zee beams with happiness, and I’m big enough to admit that that’s only partly me. Not only is Colton doing a good job of dicking my girl down (a feat well deserving of kudos), but my melancholic best friend is constantly smiling. Even if I had an original problem with Colt for stealing her away from me, how could I begrudge her this level of joy? Whatever he’s doing, it’s making her happy, and that’s all I want for my BFF.
“Pinch me,” I order.
She does. Hard enough to make me squeak. “Seem real enough?”
“Do it again.” This time, I know she’ll leave a bruise, but it has me sighing in delight. “This is real.”
“The Witches of Bitchwick are back!”
Eyes wide, I return, “That is the best name ever. You know what we have to do?”
Simultaneously, we cry, “CALL PARKER!”