Page 4 of The Idiot

Him and my military service. I don’t get it. By the way he acted, you’d think I died when I left. We’ve always been thick as thieves, but when I got out eight years ago, I swear he as much as put a tracking device on me. It’d be flattering if… he was someone else, someone like me.

Delores screeches to a halt. I lurch forward, gripping the dash. My stomach is about to squeeze out through my throat. I venture there’s only a foot of space between us and Pete’s bumper where we’ve pulled over to the curb in town.

“Nothing stupid, huh? What do you call this?”

“A surprise!” He beams, popping the shifter intopark. “You’re gonna love it.”

Ah, hell. The fuck I am. I know that look.

“As much as that time you surprised me with a fishing trip, and it was an outdoor nudist expo?”

“Better,” he chirps, wrenching open his door.

The lack of eye contact tells me that’s some bullshit. He has no clue how predictable he is, or he just doesn’t care.

“Orlast spring when you said we were going to check out that new bar in Sunnyslope, but you made me climb the watertower to show me Deputy Greer was schtupping Molly Hornes in the back of his squad car?”

His lips part, but no rebuttal comes out.

Good. Maybe I won this round.

Nope. Now he’s grinning. That means I’m fucked.

Holding up an index finger, he assures me, “Justas good as that.”

Doubtful. Highly doubtful, but what do I do? I get out of Delores and follow after my best friend for whatever nonsense he’s up to, just like I have since we were kids.

“Wonderful,” I mutter under my breath.

I like his brother Pete. He’s always been cool with me, but it’s disappointing learning my lunch invite now means I won’t have Jesse’s full attention or the private moments when he’s not trying to be a clown. He’s got this sick obsession with pissing off his brother that always makes me feel juvenile by association.

“Are you practicing applying for the ambulance service, or was there a bee in the truck?” Pete asks, slamming the door of his Lexus.

“Just wanted to spend some quality time with you before you head back to Portland.”

I throw Pete a nod, hoping it’ll de-escalate the situation. It took balls for him to leave Wenatchee and make it on his own. This is apple country, after all. While city life and corporate offices have never been my dream, I’m both envious and impressed that he bucked local convention. “Hey, Pete.”

“Hi Murphy. How’s your mother doing?”

“Good. They’ve got her on day shift at the hospital.”

“Hi, I’m Cameron.” A younger blonde man waves shyly and approaches the back of the car.

“Murphy Malone. Friend of Jesse’s,” I offer, extending my hand.

Jesse slaps his palms together, rubbing them in quick succession. “So, what’s on the agenda? A little sightseeing? The museum?”

“I didn’t know you were so interested in local attractions,” Pete grouses.

“Hey, I’m here for Cameron. We can’t let him go home from his first trip to Wenatchee without showing him a good time.”

“Oh, no. It’s fine. I just wanted to find an apple cookie jar for my mom,” Cameron laughs bashfully.

Pete rolls his eyes at Jesse and squeezes through the tight space between the vehicles to get to the sidewalk, though not without throwing a dirty look at his brother. As he converses with his friend, I level a questioning look at mine as if to say what-the-fuck-are-we-doing-here? Clearly, this wasn’t a unanimously planned outing, judging by the way Pete takes off down the sidewalk with his buddy.

Jesse just beams and waggles his brows, planting a hand on Delores’ hood to jump over the bumper onto the sidewalk. He starts after the pair, frantically waving me on to follow. I’m starting to think I might not be getting lunch, after all.

“I can’t help but feel that we weren’t exactly invited,” I advise once I catch up to him.

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