9. Nine #3
I drop the box on the kitchen table, littered with an assortment of other boxes that I dread going through. The move was swift, and so my packing was not incredibly organized.
Ellis and Lennon have taken to sitting on the floor, leaning against the walnut cabinets behind them.
The galley kitchen has them facing opposite directions, staring at each other and laughing about Griffin and Noah pretending they don’t need help getting the couch into the living room.
The house is small, but so far, I like it.
Aged wood writes a story in every corner of the cottage. With the original doors and original cabinets, every chip reminds me of those who’ve come before me. It’s not unlike the farmhouse, though the floors are more level here.
“Do you think this place is haunted?” I ask as Lennon and Ellis swivel their heads in tandem. “It seems pretty old.”
Lennon’s tone is flat when she speaks. “If my house isn’t haunted, I’m sure this one isn’t. That being said, maybe we both have ghosts.”
Ellis grins. “If I get ordained, will you both let me try my hand at cleansing the space with holy water? I imagine I’d feel pretty powerful.”
Lennon scoffs. “Just light some sage and hang a bell in the doorway. Or in Cass’s case, get the horseshoe over the frame.”
“Your other left Noah! Your other fucking left!”
We all b-line for the living room to find Griffin and Noah attempting to navigate the front entryway with half of my sectional bent around the corner. When I hear a scraping sound, I wince. More paint chips to match the rest of the farm.
“Watch it!” Lennon snaps. “You two idiots didn’t want any help, then you'd better be one step away from starting a top-rated moving company. No scraping the doorway.”
Noah turns his head to look at her, sweat beading on his temples as the glasses slide down his nose.
“I don’t want to hear a word out of you,” he starts.
With his hands gripping the front of the sideways sofa, Noah looks like he’s struggling to keep himself upright.
“You’re the one who took a sledgehammer to the wall without so much as a plan. ”
Lennon crosses her arms, one eyebrow cocked in challenge. “I pay you to make the plans, actually.”
“You don’t pay me at all.”
Lennon’s brow quirks up. “Monetarily? No, I don’t.”
“Noah!” Griffin snaps from his position outside the house. “Focus and move left.”
Ellis giggles next to me, her shoulder bumping mine. “Seems like they have it handled.”
“Do they?” I question.
Ellis’s nose scrunches. “Oh yeah. We can get back to talking about the bridal shower.”
Lennon sidles up next to us. “Sounds good to me. We were thinking of July for the shower, but I want to brainstorm locations. I’m not going to be sweating my ass off the entire time.”
I smile. “Air conditioning for sure.”
Ellis pulls out her phone, scrolling until her face brightens when she finds what she needs. “This is what I was thinking in terms of a dress for the actual wedding.”
She turns her phone around, flashing the image of a satin slip dress, and between the draping neckline and button details, I grab the phone.
“Oh my God, Ellis!” Gathering myself, I hand her phone back to her, shrugging when Griffin and Noah look at me questioningly.
The boys walk out to get what I assume to be the other half of the sectional as I turn my attention back to Ellis.
“Sorry. That is stunning. You absolutely have to try dresses on.”
“I’ll need you both there,” she says. “Lennon to tell me if I look stupid, and Cass for moral support when I inevitably cry.”
Lennon winces. “I wouldn’t tell you that you looked stupid.”
“Yes, you would,” we say in unison, leading to a round of laughter.
“The venue is where I’m struggling,” Ellis says once the laughter dies down. “Everything is so expensive, and we are on a tight deadline. Maybe it was a mistake to wait this long to look.”
“Cass, your ex is rich. You don’t think you could guilt him for cheating to fork over some cash or connections?” Lennon asks, and I fold my arms across my chest, my stomach twisting to the point of nausea.
“Absolutely not,” I say. “I’ve erased all traces of Chad from my life. Besides, Gus would like you guys way more than he ever liked Chad’s rich friends. They all had this certain laugh.” My lip curls back in disgust at the memory. “It sounded rich and irritating all at the same time.”
“I love how you judge the wealthy,” Lennon jokes. “I aspire to this level of hatred for anyone with money.”
Ellis looks thoughtful, her head tilted to the side. “Who’s Gus?” she asks, and my twisting stomach folds itself into a paper swan and takes a nose dive straight toward the floor. I might as well be on a roller coaster at this point.
I know why I haven’t discussed my family with Lennon and Ellis.
In the beginning, it was for the sake of compartmentalization.
I’ve been struggling to be exactly what Gus needs me to be as of late.
Things have felt strained—like I can’t keep my worry contained, and it keeps leaking out like a mystery liquid from the garbage.
I want him to be comfortable—I want him to feel normal around me, but I don’t know how to make that happen.
Maybe, instead of keeping my family at an arm's length away—hiding my pain, I should be what Wes called me—an open book. It would make more sense to be that with my friends than my boss.
“My brother,” I offer, wincing at the smothered surprise on their faces. “August. He’s—”
An idea comes to me, and instead of giving it another thought, I announce what I’m thinking. “What if I had a get-together here. A welcome party, so to speak. I’m sure Gus would want to come, then we can skip all of this, and you can just meet him.”
Ellis leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Is Gus a murderer or something?”
“No more a murderer than Griffin was a year and a half ago.”
“What about Griffin?” The man himself says as he enters the doorway with the second half of my couch clutched tightly against him. Noah stands just outside, swapping places since it went so well the first go round.
“You’re not a murderer,” I say.
“You know,” Noah practically shouts. “You’re all doing a lot of standing around. I feel like I’ve been bamboozled.”
“I’m getting you all free pizza,” I offer, feeling somewhat guilty for spending the last ten minutes chatting.
Noah shakes his head once, sweat still dripping. “All’s forgiven,” he says with a strained smile.
“Good!” I pull out my phone, typing in the order I am now obligated to make. “Three large pizzas sound like enough?” I ask. “I’m willing to let the boys take the leftovers.”
“I’m in, then,” Griffin grunts, setting the couch down gently next to its other half.
When I’m done ordering our food, my thumb hovers over Gus’s number. Instead of fretting over what he will think about me inviting him to meet my friends, I click his name and type out a message.
Me: I’m having a housewarming party or whatever. I want you to meet my friends.
Three bubbles appear, disappear, and reappear.
I chew the end of my thumbnail as everyone folds onto the couch that now occupies my new living room.
When Gus’s text comes through, a grin breaks over my face.
Gus: Can I bring a girl?
Me: I knew it!
Me: And yes!