Chapter 5
Lawson
It’s the early hours of the morning when Oakley and I make it to his house, having driven straight through the night. He lets Bell out of the trailer first, guiding her into the large, fenced backyard before unclipping her lead. The cow takes off, getting her zoomies out.
Oakley and I leave most of his possessions for after we’ve had some sleep. He doesn’t even ask if I’m staying or going, just opens the door and waves me in.
His house is much as I remember before he sold it to his parents and moved.
The walls are light blue and yellow, the furniture is old in a way that’s charming instead of looking run-down, and barring some of the more personal items Oakley brought with him to Kansas, even the decor is the same.
His parents hardly changed a thing when they opened it up as a rental.
Oakley heads for the kitchen first, filling two glasses with water as his eyes roam, same as mine did. He shakes his head a little. “Looks the same.”
“It does,” I agree, accepting the drink he passes me.
Oakley downs his own before canting his head. “Come on.”
I expect Oakley to direct me to the guest room, but he doesn’t. He gives my arm a tug as he rounds the corner into the main bedroom, dropping his suitcase inside. I set my own backpack of essentials down, watching as Oakley tosses back the covers. He lies down, fully clothed, and groans.
“Coming?” he asks when I continue to stand there. “We’re gonna talk.”
“Now?”
“Mhm.”
Heaving a sigh, I settle into the space next to him, my eyelids heavy as my head hits the pillow. Oakley’s hands are behind his head, his stare on the ceiling, same as mine.
“I’m not going to apologize,” I tell him.
His head turns my way. “For what?”
“You know what. Dragging you back here. It needed to be done.”
“For whose sake? My own?”
I chew my lip, and Oakley flicks my forehead.
“Stop it,” I tell him, swatting his hand. He only huffs a laugh. “Yes, for your sake, Oak. You were being stubborn about staying there because you thought we’d judge you for coming home. We never would.”
He hums.
“For your parents’ sake, too,” I add. “Renting this house was a load of trouble for them. It’ll be easier now with you buying it back.”
“Is that so?” Oakley says, sounding amused. “Sure does look like they had trouble keeping this place maintained.”
I ignore the comment. “Not to mention for Wendy’s sake. She missed you. A lot. You said you’d come back at least once a year, and you didn’t.”
His voice is soft. “I know. And I’m sorry about that.”
I nod in a jerk.
“Is that all?” he asks.
It takes considerable effort to turn my head, but I do, meeting Oakley’s painted eyes.
I can’t tell him it felt like losing a limb when he drove off with Stevie.
That every year that passed without him coming home, even to visit, scared me more than the simple passage of time ever could.
I can’t say missing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure.
I’ve always been close with Oakley. Closer than I am with anyone else. But I recognize the way I need him in my life isn’t a fair burden to put on a friend.
How would I even explain it? It’s selfish, wanting to be his first priority. But once upon a time, when we were kids, Oakley was my entire world, and I was his. I never wanted that to change.
It wasn’t supposed to.
“Law,” Oakley says, voice quiet. “Full transparency, remember? You promised.”
My eyes sting, but I refuse to let the tears fall.
“I wanted you back for me. For my sake, all right? I’ve tried so damn hard to be what everyone needed me to be.
A good husband. A good father. A good brother and son and friend.
And all the while, the person I needed most was across the goddamn country. ”
Oakley’s eyes are wide, but the words are rolling out now, and there’s no stopping them.
“I missed you so much it was unbearable, Oak. I know it’s not fair to you, but I need you here. You don’t get to leave again.”
He blinks, a slow thing. “You know, I’ve always found it funny when folks talk about you as this utterly unflappable presence. People around town, parents of the kids in your classes, your family even. And you are calm and collected, Law. Around just about everybody but me.”
“Because it’s different with you.”
“Why?”
“You’re my person.”
He lets out a short puff of air. “I’m not leaving again. All right? I’m sorry, Lawson. I didn’t… I didn’t realize you were so lonely with me gone.”
Lonely. The word doesn’t do it justice, but I nod anyways, my throat tight.
“Fuck,” Oakley mutters. “C’mere.”
I let Oakley tug me close, my head on his chest as his arms wrap around my shoulders. The pressure that’s been under my ribcage for damn near years unspools with my exhale. Every ounce of it, flowing free, gone as if it was never there at all.
Laura’s voice rings in my ears. Her telling me it’s not right, how much I depend on Oakley. Saying men our age shouldn’t be so close.
But what about Laura’s friends? What about the women she’d get together with, sipping mimosas in our kitchen, exchanging hugs and smiles and talking about everything going on in their lives?
Why is it different for me and Oakley just because we’re men?
I let my ex’s voice drift from my mind, my hand settling on Oakley’s ribs as his fingers hold tightly to my back. His chest hitches, but he only holds on tighter.
“I’m sorry.” His words are softly spoken, but I hear them perfectly well, the reverberation a rumble in my ear.
“I know.”
“I’m forgiven?” he asks.
“Already told you you are.”
“Still gonna chew me out some more?”
I huff, even as a smile graces my lips. “Might.”
“All right then. Get some sleep.”
With the dawn sending the day’s first light through the window, I close my eyes. It’s all too easy to fall asleep in this house that’s always felt like home.
It takes longer to unpack Oakley’s possessions than it did to stuff them into boxes. I stay for over a day, helping with the task, having nowhere else I need to be with school out for the summer.
I can’t quite temper the smile on my face, seeing Oakley resettle here in Darling. Even if Oakley himself is currently wearing a scowl.
“Of course my parents replaced all the things I took with me,” he grumbles, an assortment of spatulas in his hand. He dumps them into a drawer. “I don’t need two toasters. Or two dressers. Or a dozen spatulas.”
“So make a donation pile,” I suggest, folding a throw blanket before draping it along the back of his couch.
He huffs, but my gaze redirects to the back door at the sound of it opening. Bell strolls in, the automatic door closing behind her after a few seconds, the pull ropes both inside and out swaying with the movement.
“And they left the automatic cow door,” he mumbles, despite being the person who installed it in the first place. “Don’t get into shit, Belladonna. And wipe your feet!”
Bell passes over the long mat in front of the door, her hooves looking relatively clean. She immediately sticks her head into a cardboard box, the only one with food.
Oakley sighs as Bell trots down the hall with a box of crackers. “Could you?”
Nodding, I head after her. I find Bell in the guest room, trying her best to tear into the snack. She blinks her big, black eyes at me as I take the crumpled box. “You know better,” I say softly, offering a few crackers in my palm that she hastily snaps up. “Next time, just ask.”
Bell cozies down on a rug as I head back to the kitchen, Oakley looking through the cabinets next to the fridge now.
He runs a hand through his hair, the stubble on his face looking a touch shorter than it did the other day, as if he shaved it down somewhat.
His comment on beard burn comes to mind, and I wonder at it.
Laura never said she liked that, but…we weren’t particularly compatible to begin with. Not in so many ways. It wasn’t readily apparent at the start of our relationship, not when I was trying my best to be the man she deserved.
Would that feel good, the sensation of rough stubble on my skin? I have no idea, not having ever tried it for myself.
There are so many things I’ve never tried.
Oakley’s jeans are faded, his t-shirt snug enough on his form to see the swell of his work-honed muscles. He’s handsome in a rugged way; I’ve heard it enough from folks around town. But his nose has a small, crooked bend in it, and there’s nothing remotely conventional about his eyes.
Handsome doesn’t feel like enough to describe him.
Oakley catches me watching and cocks an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Just wondering,” I tell him truthfully. “I invited Wendy over for dinner, by the way. She should be here in…”
I trail off as I hear a vehicle outside, followed by boots stomping up the porch stairs.
“About now,” I finish.
Oakley looks amused, but his attention diverts to the front of the house as my daughter comes storming through the door. She walks right up to Oakley, punches him on the shoulder, and then gives him a fierce hug.
Oakley grunts under the force of her attack, his eyes wide. “Jesus, Wendy. Look at you. You’re up to my chin now.”
“Yeah, well, I grew up a lot while you were off playing Wizard of Oz.”
“Kansas,” I mouth to him.
He squeezes my daughter tighter, his eyes slipping closed. “It’s good to see you, Wen.”
“You, too,” she says, voice cracking. “You’re not leaving again.”
“Christ,” he mutters, eyes opening and finding mine. There’s a small smile on his face. “You two are just alike.”
Wendy finally steps back, quickly swiping at her face.
Oakley shakes his head as he looks her over.
She’s grown a lot in the years he’s been gone.
From a gangly just-teenager to the seventeen-year-old she is now.
She’s looking more like a young woman every day, and it’s obvious Oakley is surprised by the change, not having seen the day-to-day evolution as I have. Pictures aren’t the same.
“So,” Wendy says almost defensively, hands on her hips, “you are staying, right?”
“I am,” Oakley answers.
“Good. Where’s Bell?”
As if hearing her name spoken, Bell comes trotting down the hall. Wendy rushes over, throwing herself against the miniature cow, cooing up a storm as Bell’s tail swishes, the bovine’s eyes half closed in bliss.
Oakley looks my way. “I think she missed the cow more than me.”
“Likely,” I tease.
He glances down at his closed fist, confusion on his face for a moment before he slowly cranks up his middle finger. “Ah, there it is.”
I grab a pillow from the couch and toss it his way. Oakley laughs as he swipes it out of the air, sending it careening back in my direction.
“What’s for dinner?” Wendy asks, ignoring the antics of two forty-some-year-old men who should know better.
Oakley gives Bell a surreptitious look. “Steak?”
“Oh good Lord,” I mumble, heading for the fridge. Luckily for everyone, I find a few ribeyes inside, as well as some bell peppers. “Get the grill going. We’re doing kabobs.”
Oakley doesn’t argue, practically bounding out the back door to light the grill. My eyes catch Wendy’s. She doesn’t need to say a word for me to understand the smile at the corner of her lips.
We’re both glad Oakley is back.
We eat outside, Bell grazing in the yard as the three of us sit at the picnic table on Oakley’s patio. I’ll need to head home soon—to my temporary home at the ranch. But for now, I kick up my feet on the bench seat near Oakley, content to savor this moment I wasn’t sure I was going to get again.
The sun is low in the sky. The wind is blowing gently. If I squint, I can almost see pixies flitting on the breeze. Almost.
My best friend is home.
Maybe that’s magic enough for me.