Leah laughed. “Remember when you were pine-city over Mercy? And now he’s just a goober.” She sighed theatrically. “How fast young love fades. Replaced by gooberness.”
Ava chuckled. “Mom used to say that all men were basically little boys in grown-up clothes, and honestly, she was right.”
“Isn’t she right about everything?”
“Tell her you said that and you don’t have to bake her cookies.”
They pulled out the fitted sheet, spread it between them, and moved to opposite sides of the bed to tuck it into place.
It was a little bit amazing how they slid right back into their old friendship. It had never ended, not really, but when Leah had followed Jason to Chicago, they’d fallen out of the habit of daily communication. Texts, and emails, and photos still happened; but they hadn’t helped co-host a bake sale, or studied together, or spent an aimless afternoon in front of the TV with popcorn and nail polish. They hadn’t had proper girl time, and she’d worried, a little, if things would go back to the way they had been – a dumb worry, it turned out, because they fell right back together like always, their friendship a familiar groove into they which they slipped, well-oiled, productive, comfortable.
They got the bed made, and by the time they returned to the living room, the guys had gone back down to the U-Haul for the next load. There wasn’t much left: she didn’t have a kitchen table, or chairs, or dishes, or glasses, or…anything for the kitchen, really. Maggie had said she was on it, and though Leah had protested, and hated the idea of accepting charity, there was no stopping Maggie Teague once she’d latched onto a cause.
“Pizza?” Ava asked, already pulling out her phone. “I’m starving.”
“Oh. Well.” The sky was darkening beyond the windows, a dusky purple-pink. “I’m sure the kids…”
Ava waved her off. “Mom’s fine with them ‘til later, she said. You still like pepperoni and mushroom?”
“Yeah.”
Tango and Aidan brought up the last boxes and then said they had to get home to their wives. Leah thanked them, surprised to get hugs from both of them – until she was pressed quick and close to their cuts, smelling the leather, and smoke, and asphalt scent that had heralded all her childhood slumber parties over at the Teague house.
Aidan tugged on her ponytail as he pulled back. “What happened to the pink?”
“It went blue, and then green, and then I had to get a grown-up job.”
“Aw, damn, that’s a shame.” He gave her one of his ladykiller grins and winked as he headed for the door.
“You stop that, asshole,” Ava called after him, without heat. “You’re married.”
“And the women of Knoxville can’t stop crying about it,” he called in parting.
Leah chuckled. Yep, she was home alright, no mistaking.
~*~
Ava had brought paper plates, Solo cups, and a cooler full of drinks. They poured cold Coke into Jack, and settled cross-legged on the rug in the living room with steaming, greasy pizza. Mercy had stayed behind, and that didn’t feel as strange as she might have once thought. For a lot of years, he’d been the hulking, scary, much-too-old enigma that had fascinated Ava, and terrified the teenage boys who Ava in turn fascinated. But, despite the tats, and the cut, and the long hair, and the wildly-violent club reputation, Mercy was, at heart, a man. A kind one. Who loved his wife, and who liked a good joke, and he didn’t feel like a third wheel.
“Have your parents seen the place yet?” Ava asked.
Leah nodded and swallowed. “Mom came by yesterday and dropped off a bunch of toilet paper and paper towels and stuff. They’re coming by tonight after they close up the shop.”
“You gonna be working there?” Mercy asked.
Ava shot him a look.
He made a face. “Wrong question?”
“No, it’s a good one,” Leah said, trying not to frown; she failed. Felt her nose wrinkling up. She dropped her pizza back onto her plate with a sigh. “They’ll let me pull shifts there, for sure. But I don’t want them to have to cut back hours for the students they’ve got working for them now. I need to find something more permanent – and find it quick.” She glanced around her bare new apartment. “I’m gonna blow through my savings fast.”
Ava and Mercy traded another look. “Well,” Ava said, setting her own slice down. “If we can–”
“Oh, no, no, no, absolutely not.”
“It could be a loan.”
“You guys have three kids! No. No, I’ll befine. I just hate job-hunting.”
