“High school, are you shitting me?”
“Almost as impressive as the billboard in Times Square.”
Fancy shook her head in denial. “How’d you hear about that?”
“You know your momma likes to brag.”
“She is president of our fan club. But seeing how she never mentioned this mural, I may have to strip her of that title,” she joked.
“Listen you and Darla are global superstars, but some of us in Hume remember the humble beginnings and we are so proud.”
“I remember you were our security guard when we’d sneak into some sketchy bar a town over to perform. For a scrawny fella, you had one hell of a right hook.”
“When you’re skinny like I was, you have to be able to protect yourself. Plus, I grew up with Cyrus, Dial, and Ozzie picking fights all the time. I had no choice but to hold my own.”
“I know. I always felt safe when you were around.”
“That’s because you didn’t have any sense. We were three baby faced kids frequenting bars and taverns we had no business in.”
“True, but we got free beer after.”
“That was the least they could do since they weren’t paying you.”
“They paid us in beer and cheeseburgers. And they ignored our obviously fake ID’s.”
“Yeah, and I never got to drink because I was always the designated driver.”
“Well you couldn’t expect the talent to drive. We had to rest our vocal cords and guitar fingers.” She pressed her lips together to stifle a smile.
“Chauffeur, security guard, water boy.”
Fancy invaded my personal space, reaching for my hand with a squeeze. “Friend. You were a good friend.”
“Yeah.” And that’s what it boiled down to, Fancy always saw me as a friend and nothing more. The guy who’d lugged theirguitars and equipment to the truck. The guy who held her hair back when she barfed. The shoulder to lean on when some dude that didn’t deserve her fucked up. And I was happy to fill the role. Because being Fancy’s friend was still important to me. I wasn’t her friend because I was in love with her. Love may be too strong a word. I admired her passion and perseverance. Francesca made me curious about a world beyond my backyard. She owed me nothing, and I learned to keep my expectations low. Fancy was my friend before anything else. And the fact that she still saw me as a friend after all this time meant what we shared was just as special to her as it was to me.
I wasn’t a pick me trying to get chosen. I genuinely wanted her to be happy. Sure, I thought I had the ability to make her happy. But the minute she got stars in her eyes, I knew I’d never be enough. She was too big for Hume and it was impossible and unfair of me to expect her to dim her light or make herself microscopic for me.
“Do you still play the guitar?” she asked.
“I don’t know if you can call what I do playing.”
“You’re being modest. I used to love to sing while you accompanied me on guitar.”
“You sang like an angel while I missed every other note.”
“You never missed a note. You never overpowered my voice. It’s like I was made to sing to your melody. You were so good without even trying. I wanted people to hear my music. Sing my lyrics so bad I could barely stand it. And you could take it or leave it.”
Instruments came easy to me. I’d been playing since I was seven, guitar, piano, and the trumpet. I was in band alongside Fancy and Darla. Music allowed me to feel things I couldn’t articulate. “I just wasn’t as passionate about it as you were.”
Studying my features, she asked, “What are you passionate about, Edison?”
Just because I was reserved didn’t mean there weren’t things that fired me up.
“I’m passionate about beautiful sunsets, summer lemonade, my goats, who hop around when I come to feed them in the morning. I like to think they’re excited to see me and not the bucket of food. I get a kick out of guitar solos, and that first cup of coffee in the morning. I have a basin in the barn out back and sometimes I’ll fill it with piping hot water and just soak, listen to the whistle of the wind through the trees or the birds chirping hello. I lost my shit when my cow had her calf. How she got pregnant is a story for another time. When I come into town, I’ll get taffy from Sweet But Sinful and I can’t have a piece until I’m headed home. That first chewy sweet bite is always the best.”
Fancy’s chest heaved and her words were low and breathy. “You are a rarity, Edison Birch. And it seems wrong that I’m just now figuring that out.”
Ducking my head, I said, “You can just call me simple it’s fine.”
