Four #2
My muscles feel like jello, and my exhaustion is so deep, I’m certain it’s started eating away at my marrow.
The pink-stained cheeks I saw in the mirror when I got here weren’t so bad, but no matter what I do to my hair, it still looks like I’ve been electrocuted.
Not to mention, I keep finding small pieces of alfalfa woven in the strands.
I’m still not even sure how that happened. Hay is like glitter—there’s no telling where you’ll find it, even months later.
Farm work is not for the faint of heart, that’s for certain.
“You’re getting mud on my brand new carpet,” Lennon complains as I open my eyes to see her carrying a wooden cutting board into the living room.
When she sets it down on the coffee table, she sweeps her very not electrically charged red hair over one shoulder, peaking at the ends until she curls herself on the end of the couch.
Ellis sits up from her spot curled on the couch. “You’re becoming quite the host!” she says with excitement, eyes fixed on the charcuterie board that has been so carefully prepared for us.
I need salt—electrolytes and calories. I need—
“Can you hand me one of those rosemary crackers with a piece of something with protein?” I eye the spread that’s now taunting me from the coffee table. “I can’t get up.”
Lennon rolls her eyes. “You want me to feed it to you, too?”
I groan, but Ellis comes through, handing me a carefully crafted cracker and salami sandwich. “And as for getting mud on this carpet,” I say, slowly sitting up, “it is not new, and we all know how much you love thrifting. Consider this a piece of the carpet’s history.”
“Minor details,” Lennon retorts, waving me off.
My muscles scream at me when I twist to grab a piece of smoked cheese, but my pain is no match for the hunger gnawing at my stomach. I scarf down a third item without clocking what I even ate.
“I thought you said you liked the job,” Ellis starts. Her oversized band-tee has no less than three holes around the front, clearly stolen from her boyfriend, Griffin’s never-ending supply. “Something about sunshine and horses and peace. It was quite poetic.”
Covering my mouth, I chew faster, as if I can go so fast, I’ll start receiving the calories via osmosis. “I do,” I answer around another bite. “I’m just so sore and tired. I’m sure I’ll build up the muscle, but for now, let me wallow.”
“You’re going to be so hot by the end of the summer,” Lennon adds to the conversation. “I won’t be seen with you once you’re ripped. I have to keep hold of my ego.”
“I’ll still hang out with you,” Ellis supplies. “But I will feel inferior in every way possible.” She sits further back on the leather couch. “I think I should start working out. That, or I can continue to avoid dress shopping until Griffin, and I give up and elope.”
“You are not eloping,” Lennon demands, her tone threatening. “Not unless you take me with you. I could use a vacation.”
“I really can’t take a vacation right now since I just got this job. Maybe we could hold off on the elopement?” I chuckle before gesturing to the cozy living room. “Getting nervous for the grand opening?” I question, turning my focus to Lennon.
After buying an old farmhouse last autumn, she’s been working tirelessly to make the place into the bed and breakfast of her dreams. The dream-chasing thing happened to inspire me to quit bartending. There’s no way I would have stuck that out forever.
“I mean, yeah,” Lennon admits. “That’s not the point, though. I absolutely must be there for your wedding, Ellis. Nothing will pain me more.”
“Oh!” Ellis unfolds her legs from the furniture and ambles across the living room to her bag by the door. “I almost forgot I brought gifts for you both.”
I look at Lennon, who tilts her head as if I knew this information and know exactly what gifts Ellis is talking about.
I do not know.
To be clear.
I shrug, shoveling another massive bite into my mouth. It’s grotesque, really.
Ellis hands me and Lennon our respective boxes and returns to her position on the couch. I look at the white box, no larger than a paperback book, and give it a little shake.
Ellis’s hazel eyes have a suspicious sheen to them—like a mother watching their child receive a diploma.
“Did you gift us air?” Lennon mocks, one side of her mouth curling upward into a grin.
The box does feel rather empty, but knowing Ellis, I’m sure it’s a nice gift. If Lennon had offered us boxes that weighed less than a piece of paper, I’d suspect a photograph of a middle finger taped to the bottom.
“Just open it,” Ellis nearly squeals, moving to her knees. “Please.”
I pull the side open and lift the lid of the box, revealing a piece of tissue paper. Before I can remove it, Lennon has already ripped hers apart and is looking at Ellis with tears in her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her cry. It’s honestly a bit terrifying.
What is up with all the crying?
“Is this a curse?” I ask, lifting the rose colored tissue paper from the box to reveal a card taped to the bottom. This is, however, void of a middle finger.
I promise I won’t make you wear an ugly dress.
I look up, missing whatever is passing between my two friends on the couch. “I’m confused.”
“She’s asking us to be her bridesmaids, you weirdo!” Lennon’s voice nearly cracks on the words.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I look back and forth between the two of them. “Wait,” I say, “Really?”
Ellis nods, and a huge smile breaks across my face. “If I weren’t so sore,” I say, “I’d get up and hug you.”
I glance at the paper again, shaking my head in disbelief. It seems crying is certainly on the agenda for today.
When I’d moved an hour and a half away from my mom, it had been a difficult decision. My dad was in Indiana, where I’d gone for college, and I didn’t know what things would be like coming back, knowing how things were with Gus.
He’d gotten his own place, and to my surprise, I felt so… empty. My mom insisted it would be for the best if I were around to help, but Gus didn’t seem to need help as much as she’d described.
I’d been pressured into it, as with most things.
That first year gave me Chad, and I was certain nothing good would ever come of the decision to cross state lines.
That is, until I’d met Ellis by chance at a wedding for one of Chad’s high school friends. What I didn’t know then was how close our friendship would become during that difficult time in my life.
If the Cassidy that clung to a man who spent more time memorizing the mouths of other women than memorizing her birthday saw the friendships I’d since built for myself, saw me now, she would be proud.
The job was one more piece of that puzzle.
I look up at Ellis, her gaze expectant. “Of course I’ll be there,” I say through a watery laugh. “Even if I smell like literal horse shit.”