Chapter 8
Eight
Grady
“At the height of laughter, the universe is flung into a kaleidoscope of new possibilities.”
Jean Houston
Iagree with Juliet.
Though I’m not proud of it, I’ve been outside and can overhear their conversation. They didn’t notice me weeding the shit out of the neglected flower beds when they came out. I can’t help but hear them when they’re only ten feet away.
Not only do I agree that this Pierre dude is owed a painful death, I also agree that it could be “like that” between Lou and me.
Louisa.
Lou fits her better. Lou is less fragile and delicate than Louisa. She may still see herself as frail, but I see her resilience. It takes a brave woman to move away from everything and everyone you know. Especially with nothing.
Though, I don’t know if a fling with her would be harmless for either of us. Something tells me I could get attached. Addicted to her—her rare smile, the faint smell of honey that she always carries.
I couldn’t place it, at first. When Paige was home last weekend, she wanted toast with peanut butter and honey. As soon as we had the jar open, the image of Lou curled on my lap sprang to mind.
I’ve been sniffing that jar like a damned addict ever since.
She’s left me little choice, keeping her distance as she has since she broke down in my arms. We’ve messaged back and forth.
Her replies are back to only a few words.
It’s understandable, only I had hoped we’d progressed past that.
Crossed some imaginary hurdle that landed us into a world of friendship rather than just polite neighbors. A world in which she relies on me.
Instead, it’s my best childhood friend that gets to hang out with her.
Fuck me, I’m jealous of Juliet. The closest thing to a sister I’ve ever known. And because of a woman I barely even know.
Take a log off the fire, dumbass, you’re burning too hot.
She stirs up feelings I haven’t had for a long time, which is probably exactly why she stirs them up.
It’s been a long time. Coming back to a small town where everyone knows you and your business isn’t easy in a bachelor’s life.
If I want to enjoy a one-night stand, chances are good a third party will know and talk.
My personal life isn’t fodder for gossip.
I have a daughter I care about, and I don’t need her to hear that her daddy is the town tramp.
Shit, still, I’m going crazy enough that I might have to take the bartender’s continuous offer.
Her name is January, and like everyone around here, I’ve known her for what feels like forever.
She, too, has recently divorced and has proposed a friend with benefits-type relationship.
January isn’t deterred by my casual blow off of the idea.
It’s not that she’s not attractive, she is, in that girl next door sort of way.
Our personalities don’t vibe enough for anything to grow into something long term, but maybe it’s a way to blow off some pent-up sexual frustration.
Maybe divert some of this foreign infatuation with the stranger next door.
More laughter erupts from the other side of the fence and I tune back in.
“Oh my God, no. My first time was awful,” Juliet says.
“It was this guy, Kyle Martin. We were sixteen and so stupid. He took me out to dinner at the pizza place and, afterward, drove out on the beach so we could screw in the back of his dad’s pickup.
Except it was dark and the tide was coming in.
He parked too close to the water, but we didn’t notice until the truck was already sinking into the sand. ”
“No way,” Lou says through a fresh burst of laughter.
“The police were called. With nothing else happening that night, everyone showed up. And I do mean everyone. The whole squad, firefighters, tow trucks, spectators once word got out.”
“So, basically the whole town?”
“Yes. Most mortifying thing ever.”
What she leaves out is that Kyle, in his urgency to lose his virginity, accidentally threw his clothes over the side of the truck. When the people showed up to help, he was standing there cupping his dick because the waves had washed them out to sea.
“What did Irma do?”
“Pretended she was livid with the both of us until we got home and practically peed herself laughing. She hated Kyle’s dad; she thought it was hilarious.”
“Do you remember Marco Sabine?”
“That guy who modeled for, like, ten minutes? Yeah, he was on a hot track to fame and then quit the industry altogether. I always wondered what happened to him. Luke loved him and wanted him for the big Spring collection that year. He was so disappointed.”
“He didn’t want to model,” Lou says. “His agent saw him on the street and pressured him into it. He was in med school and figured it would be quick money before the semester started. They would have had limited bookings with him anyway. Unless they used a prosthetic.”
“Shut up! Really?”
“I’d heard of micro penises before, but I don’t think I believed it until we were hooking up,” she says. “Or trying, anyway. He gave me no forewarning. I can’t be held responsible for my reaction.”
“What did you do?”
“I cried,” she says before laughing.
I can’t help myself and laugh. Loud and hard.
“Grady Steele,” Juliet hollers. “Are you creeping on us?”
“No. I was here weeding, minding my own business when you lot started talking about micro-dicks,” I say in my defense, dropping a handful of weeds into the bucket before walking around the fence.
“Was Kyle’s dick small, too?” Lou asks.
“I mean, yeah, but we were kids. Maybe it grew up,” Juliet says.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I say. “Are you two drunk?”
Juliet holds up the wine bottle, tipping it over to show me it’s empty.
“It takes more than a half bottle of wine to get me drunk,” she says, trying to roll over and stand up.
“That’s the second bottle,” Lou whispers conspiratorially.
“Shhh, he doesn’t need to know that,” Juliet says. “He’s a narc.”
“Ah, fuck,” I protest, helping her up and giving her a hug. “It was one time.”
“One time what?” Lou asks me.
“I told Irma that Jules was sneaking out of the house,” I answer. “One time.”
“It was enough to break my trust in you forever,” Juliet says dramatically, even though she hugs me back.
“We were nine. I didn’t know you were trying to find owls.”
“Owls?”
“I could hear them every night,” Juliet tells her. “I just wanted to see one, and for some reason, I thought Irma wouldn’t let me.”
“But once I told on her, Irma started going out with her,” I add. “It’s good to see you, shithead.”
“You too, dumbass. It’s been too long.”
“Are you hungry? We didn’t get too far with the food,” Lou says. “Only the wine.”
“I’ll eat if you both eat,” I say, taking a spot on the blanket.
They both nod and pay more attention to the tray of meat, cheese, and fruit than their wine glasses.
Conversation continues, still mostly about sexual encounters.
Not all their own, though. Between the two of them, their social circles are large and have a lot of tales to tell.
I couldn’t care less what we talk about; it’s just nice to hang out with Juliet and see Lou relaxed and, dare I say, happy.
Some of their stories are the things you would expect to only see in movies.
Lifestyles of the rich and famous type shit.
It’s a wonder anyone survives in that environment, let alone thrives.
Juliet isn’t as directly affected since she’s in more of a supporting role in the industry, but Lou seems to have been the face of it.
The way they talk, I’m getting the idea that she’s well-known. Very well-known. Which makes it more understandable that she’s so cautious about leaving the house. Not that anyone around Stowaway would recognize her. We’re not so fashionable around here.
Summer gets crazier when school is out and Portlandians need a break from city life. But that also means that Lou would blend in more, maybe.
“How did you meet your ex-wife? Sorry, I don’t know her name,” Lou asks, bringing me into the conversation.
“Brenda Stanley,” Juliet says, like it tastes bad in her mouth.
“You don’t like her?”
“Jules hates her,” I say.
“It’s mutual, she hates me, too.”
“That’s partly your fault, Jules.”
“She started it.”
“I met Brenda at a bar in Portland. A random encounter,” I tell Lou.
“When you still had dreams of being a rock star?”
“I can’t believe you told her about that,” Juliet says, giggling the same way she did when we were kids.
“Hey, I’m proud of what a big dreamer I was,” I say, knocking my shoulder against hers.
She almost topples over, and I have to steady her, which makes us all laugh.
“Eat more food, you lightweight. Anyway, Brenda was confident. Came right up to me and introduced herself. I’d never known a woman to be so forward. I liked it.”
“Why did she hate you?” Lou asks Juliet.
“Because she’s a jealous cow.”
“She thought we were too close to have never had a romantic relationship. Juliet didn’t help the situation.”
“You’re like my brother. She wouldn’t listen to you about us and that annoyed me,” she says. “So, I may have played into it.”
“How?”
“By hanging all over me whenever Brenda was around. One time, she even jumped away from me when Brenda walked into the room, just to look more suspicious.”
“She deserved it,” Juliet argues.
“She probably did,” I relent. “The more time away from her, the easier it was to see her antics. She was good at projecting her own faults onto me.”
“At least Paige came out of it,” Lou says.
“Yeah, she’s worth a lifetime of Brendas,” I agree.
“When is she here next?”
“This weekend,” I tell Juliet. “Along with Mom and Dad. They’ll be here for a few weeks; Paige will be here for the summer. How long are you home for?”
“Planned for a week, but maybe two so I can hang out with your kid,” she answers. “As long as Lou doesn’t mind the company.”
“Of course I don’t mind. I’d like the company. Besides, it’s your house.”
“Mmm, feels more like yours,” Jules tells her.