Page 101 of Love in Riverbend
I nod and look at my watch. “I need to head home. See you tomorrow at breakfast?”
“Damn right. One of the few times the guys can break away from their ball and chain.”
That makes me smile. I never thought of my sister as a ball and chain, but in that scenario she is. I take the porch steps down to the path, heading toward where my truck is parked. Turning, I take in the Dunn house. It’s a lot like the one where I live. It’s old and big and home. I spent many nights there when we were younger. It isn’t new or filled with the latest technology. I can’t fathom thinking about this house or mine being torn down to make small cookie-cutter houses. “Ricky,” I call out, “tell Jack I’m serious.”
“Shouldn’t you talk to Randy and Dax first?”
“We might not all be on the same page all the time, but when it comes to Riverbend, we are. I don’t want to see the farmland disappear.”
“Some call that progress.”
“Yeah,” I say, “I’m not one of those.”
Chapter 3
Devan
I flop down on Marilyn’s childhood bed the way I’ve done a thousand times. Staring around her room, I see that nothing has changed. The same posters Marilyn tacked up on her walls during high school are still present. I giggle at the sight of Mumford & Sons, remembering what a great time we had at that concert.
The door opens and my best friend comes inside. “I can’t tell if you’re happy about the interview or sad.”
Propping myself up on my elbows, I smile. “I think I’m both.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, sitting on the side of the full-size mattress.
Moving until I’m sitting with my legs crisscrossed, I let myself think about the next step. You know. Moving on, being an adult. It’s scary, and I’m gravitating toward the idea of letting it happen in a place where I’m comfortable. “No matter which job I take, the students will call me Miss Dunn. Isn’t that crazy?”
Marilyn laughs. “I think that’s the way it works.”
I scrunch my nose. “Seventh graders are like twelve and thirteen years old. I’m only twenty-two. It’s weird.”
“Nine to ten years is a lot.” She wiggles her shoulders. “I can see it now. I bet all the boys will have a crush on Miss Dunn.”
“Not if I teach in Riverbend and they know of Ricky. He was my worst nightmare when it came to guys when I was young. They were all scared of him.”
Marilyn lies down on the bed and turns toward me, holding her head in her hand with her elbow on the bedspread. “That’s why you didn’t date much in high school. What’s your excuse for college?”
“I date. I guess.” Not a lot, but I’ve gone out. Shrugging, I assess. “Maybe I’m not datable material.”
Her eyes open wide. “Are you joking? Have you looked at yourself lately? You’re gorgeous. And not only that, but you’re also fun to be around. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have put up with you for the last four years.”
My smile turns to a pout. “I’m going to miss you.”
With her lips in a straight line, Marilyn nods. Our separation at the end of this semester is the giant elephant in the room. We both have plans even if mine aren’t set yet.
Before we can get all mushy and emotional, the door swings open, and our friend Jill appears. “I’m here,” she announces.
The room echoes with our screams as Marilyn and I scramble off the bed and we all hug. Yes, there’s a bit of jumping too. The three of us were inseparable throughout our childhood. And if you ask me, Jill was always the most beautiful. Her auburn hair and green eyes make her eye-catching. But just like what Marilyn said about me, it’s Jill’s outgoing personality that makes her special. We were the good girls with good grades who got away with too much talking.
“I’m so glad you two came back this weekend,” Jill says. “I can’t take another Little 500 weekend in Bloomington.” She shakes her head, her long hair swinging across her back, and scrunches her nose. “I’d much rather spend the weekend here with the two of you.”
Softly, I push against her shoulder. “I didn’t tell anyone else we came to town. I was hoping to escape Riverbend and go to Bloomington. You know, check out the fun.”
Throwing her big bag on Marilyn’s bed, she takes a seat beside it. “At IU, Little 500 is amateur weekend. The parties are mostly filled with underclassmen.” Shaking her head, she adds, “Unless you’re imagining a night that ends with walking through puke, I suggest we come up with something better.”
“Eww,” Marilyn and I say together.
“Way to paint a disgusting word picture,” I say.
