Page 53 of Honeysuckle
“The Josh everyone knows—it’s all a show,” I said. “He acts like some egotistical showboat; loud, cocky…came from upper class but…”
Ella scoffed.
“What?” I said.
I was confused more than ever.
“He doesn’t hide it, Dean,” she said. “His cleats are from three seasons ago—they’re the Nike series that was put out when the Braves won. His glove is even older. He cuts his own hair, and he eats every bit of food you put in front of him, even if he doesn’t like it. He also flinches when you walk by him too fast, hates to be touched so much that he’s willing to fight Cael about it, and…” She paused, lowering her voice but never breaking eye contact. “I’m pretty sure the smell of smoke gives him panic attacks,” she said.
“How do you…” I slumped against the counter.
“Oh, wow, okay.” She sighed, and I could see her working out a way to explain things to me. “Uh… Have any of you ever asked Van where he grew up?” She asked, and I just shook my head. What did Van have to do with any of this? “He and his sisters grew up in the trailer park behind Zoey’s house. I know a homegrown haircut when I see one.”
“Really?”
The conversation had never been brought up by us or him; we all just knew he had a good family. But it also tracked that all three siblings were pursuing careers that gave back. The Mitchells were selfless and kind; it was a coveted trait, and they never failed to prove how big their hearts were. Trailer park or not, it was nothing like what I’d seen from Josh’s mom that day. They were still two very different versions of low income.
“I see the gears turning,” she said, walking around the island to stand closer to me. “You didn’t do anything wrong by not noticing, but you’ll do him a disservice if you keep being ignorant of who he is. He didn’t grow up with puppies on Christmas and family vacations to Disney.”
“Right.” I nodded. “I think maybe we should get him in to see Riona, it might help him with the anger,” I suggested. “And I’ll stop trying to impress him with generosity…”
“Now you’re thinking with that beautiful brain of yours.” She smiled up at me. Ella was the only one who never resorted to treating me like an idiot. She was the sister I never had, and I didn’t say it enough, but I was grateful for her patience.
“We don’t deserve you, El.”
“Mmm,” she hummed, and scrunched her face up at me before moving back around the counter and pouring coffee. "Impress him?” She asked, passing me a mug. “How did we go from acclimating him to impressing him?”
“I barely noticed that he was struggling,” I said. "Don’t ask such complicated questions.”
Ella laughed. "Alright, alright. Something has to have happened to soften you up a little–or him. What changed?”
I thought about her question. What had changed between us that made it feel like I wanted to do thingsfor himbut not to spite him? I had never hated Josh, not really. There weren't many people Ididhate. I couldn’t even figure out how to hate my own mother for all the mean things she’s said around me andtome.
But I had reasons I should hate Josh. He was terrible for the team morale; we’ve always been at each other's throats, he refused to get along with anyone, and he liked to keep secrets.
He wasn’t keeping secrets. He was protecting himself.
Just like me.
“Common ground,” I whispered, and Ella waited for me to figure it out. “We both had a secret that we didn’t…don’t…want to share because of how it’ll affect our lives. How we’ll look to the people in our lives.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Dean, just be yourself and show Josh that it’s okay to have secrets as long as he has people he feels comfortable sharing them with.”
“Do you wanna do something with me today?” I asked her, suddenly having an idea. “I have to stop by the stadium and then go into Lorette.”
“Sure.” She set her coffee down and eyed me carefully. "Let me get dressed?”
“I’ll swing by the stadium and come back up in thirty. Does that work?” I asked her, and she nodded as I backed away from the island.
I grabbed a hat and took the road down to the stadium. It was early, but Susanna would be around to help me with what I needed. I swung by the small coffee shop on campus and grabbed some sweets before hitting up the stadium. The parking lot was dead except for her car and Coach’s truck, so I parked close and used my card to get into the building.
“Dean Tucker,” she waddled up to the desk with a smile on her face as I handed her the box along with a warm coffee. “Now, there has to be a reason behind this.” She smiled at the pastries.
“I need your help with something,” I said to her, her smile growing wider as she let me behind the desk to sit with her. We talked for almost twenty minutes and she wrote everything down; on a mission to get it all done before the game today.
“I also need the key to the shop.” I smiled and she eyed me dubiously, but dug it out regardless. “I promise to leave some money in the register.” I waved them at her and ran through the building.
I despised being in the stadium this early; the quiet ate away at me, and the brick felt cold and suffocating when there weren't a thousand voices causing it to vibrate. I grabbed what I needed from the shop and, by the time I returned to Susanna, she had printed out what I needed and was working on the next step of our plan.
