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“Al,” Devon interrupts my thought spiral, “are you going to ask him?”
“Of course.” It makes me extremely uncomfortable to ask anyone for a favor, especially him, but I would do anything for Devon.
Me: How would you feel about me owing you a big favor?
Luke responds immediately.
Luke: You could never owe me anything. What do you need, sweetheart?
Me: I feel so bad asking this.
Luke: Ask.
Me: You’re my only friend with a truck.
Luke: What do you need me to move?
“Are you texting him?” Devon asks. “Can you not just call him?”
“We aren’t on phone call terms yet.”
“Well, I’m about to be,” Devon says, voice steady and firm, not losing her cool.
“Give me three minutes.” I walk to the other side of the room as Luke and I finish the conversation over text with him agreeing to pick everything up immediately.
“He’s on his way to the showroom.” I tell Devon.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Devon’s façade cracks for the first time, her shoulders slumping in relief. She walks across the room and wraps me in a tight hug. “Thank you, Al. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Literally, all I did was text a man.”
“A man who you’re frenemies with,” Devon says.
“At this point, he’s pretty much all friend, and no enemy,” I say.
“Interesting,” is all Devon says, but I know her analytical mind is already thinking about what that means.
We work together to unpack every item Bea brought from the house. The space is practically unrecognizable from the bland white walls they started with a month ago. They’ve added paint, wallpaper, and new curtains. There’s even a little kitchenette that now has tile and freshly painted cabinets with new door hardware and, of course, a killer coffee set up. The place feels like Devon. She got to implement design ideas I’ve heard her daydream about for years.
An hour and a half later, Luke’s truck rumbles up. I check my reflection in Devon’s leather-framed “statement” mirror. White Converse, black bike shorts, black cropped t-shirt, and my usual ponytail. Nothing he hasn’t seen me in before.Not that I care.I finger comb my wispy hairs into place as I follow Devon and Bea outside to meet him.
He opens the passenger side door, and Betty bounds out, then runs up to me in her little blue pavement shoes, wagging her tail, and wearing that broad open doggy-smile of hers.
“It’s pretty definitive that she likes me better than you now,” I tell Luke as I squat down low to the ground to hug Betty. He only laughs in response.
“Thank you for doing this,” Devon says. “How can I repay you? Actually, can I pay you?”
“Absolutely not.” His answer is immediate and firm.
“Ooh, bossy,” Bea says, walking past him on her way to check out the furniture in the truck bed.
“It is hot as fuck out here,” I announce, standing up from my place on the ground with Betty. “Let’s get this unloaded.”
Luke’s truck is loaded down with enough furniture and boxes to fill a small apartment. “Holy shit, Luke. I had no idea how much I was asking you to move,” I say to him and then shoot Devon a glare. She rolls her eyes, raising her hands in a sorry, not sorryshrug.
