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Junior and Barbara-Claire barely even bicker as we all get started painting.
All through the evening I catch Evie shooting little glances at me from beneath lowered lashes. She doesn’t say much. She just paints. And then I catch her looking again and she blushes. She smiles softly at me, and deep down inside I don’t know what to do with that. I want to catch the smiles and put them in my pocket, to save them for the next time she hates me, because I know she will again eventually. But today…today she doesn’t hate me at all.
18
Grady
I know that Barbara-Claire is completely and totally drunk when she lets out a burp loud enough to shake the roof of Evie’s new house. “Whoops,” she says, as she reaches for another beer. Out of all of us, Junior is the only one who’s sober. It’s one o’clock in the morning and we finished painting around twelve-thirty. Now we’re all sitting in a circle on Evie’s empty living room floor with the last pizza box between us and empty beer cans stacked up beside each of us.
“Wait,” Evie says. “I can do you one better.” She sucks in a breath and swallows it, and then she belches loudly. It’s not quite as loud as Barbara-Claire’s was, but still impressive.
Junior lies back on his elbows. “Grady, we got us some classy women,” he says. “How’d we get so lucky?”
Evie looks at me from beneath lowered lashes and grins. “I’ve heard tell that some girls have a lot of pride, and some girls like to grip and ride.” She holds her hands out like she’s measuring the weight of her words, raising one and lowering the other.
I never realized how country Evie really is. That’s probably because, through the years, she only threw words at me when she wanted to complain. But to hear her actually talk and interact with people, she’s about as country as anybody I ever met. She can shoot, she drives a big old truck, and she can make pies and shit. She’s my dream girl. And she’s so fucking beautiful that I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“Oh!” Evie suddenly says loudly. “I got one question for you guys!” She leans forward and hops up onto her knees.
Junior does the opposite and lies on the floor like a lazy old dog. “Ask it,” he says.
“So, I’m hoping that you could fill me and Grady in on what happened that night, because we’re both missing parts of it.”
I sit up, confused, mainly because I’m not missing any of it. I remember everything. Some parts are hazier than others. But the only part I really can’t remember is the very end of the night.
“Which parts are you missing?” Barbara-Claire asks.
“How did I end up riding around with you guys?”
Junior chuckles. “You had a flat tire.”
She nods. “Okay, I remember that part.” She holds up one finger. “And I remember you passing me a Mason jar full of moonshine.” She points that finger at him. “Which was nasty, by the way.”
Junior laughs. “Only the first sip is nasty. After that, you don’t taste anything.”
Evie cocks her head to the side. “True,” she chirps. “So at what point did I decide to get in the Jeep and snuggle with Grady?”
Junior and Barbara-Claire look at one another. “Pretty much right away.” He lifts his brows toward Barbara-Claire as though he’s waiting for acknowledgement. She nods.
Barbara-Claire laughs. “Hey Grady, didn’t she lift up your shirt so she could lay her hand on your stomach?” she asks me.
I grin. “She did.”
“I did not!” Evie denies. But I can see it all starting to come back to her. “Oh God. I totally did.” She looks at me. “I’m sorry I abused you like that.”
“Hell, it was the first time in twenty-five years you’ve been anywhere near me without biting my head off. I wasn’t complaining. I have to admit it was kind of nice.”
“So then after y’all spent some time snuggling, you decided we all needed to go get tattoos.” She points from Junior to herself and back. “Junior and I went in one room, while you two went in another. When y’all came out, you’d branded yourselves in one another’s honor.”
“Wait,” Evie says. “You got tattoos, too?”
Barbara-Claire nods. She shows her the inside of her ring finger, where their last name is written. Junior lifts his and his says the same. He leans over and kisses Barbara-Claire.
“How did I not know this?” Evie slaps her palm against her forehead.
“Do you remember it now?” I ask her.
“I do.” She nods. Her words are starting to slur, but she keeps on talking. Barbara-Claire isn’t faring any better.
