Deke felt an unhappy heat start spreading in his gut.
“Stop talkin’ ’bout her hair,” he clipped.
“Stop bein’ such a narrow-minded, short-sighted fuckwad, open your eyes and see,” Bubba clipped back, using a tone not only had Deke never heard from Bub, but also not one anyone who had eyes in their head and could see all the man Deke was had used on Deke. Not to mention Deke wouldn’t have even guessed his friend had it in him. “She’s into you, man. So fuckin’ into you, she wasn’t Jus, and that shit might come from her bein’ a Lonesome, which I’m guessing you know now, bud, but it also comes from just bein’ Jus. No matter what she does, she exudes cool. Any other woman was into you like that without you giving anything back, it’d be cute but it’d also be dorky and maybe even a little sad.”
Fuck, it felt like the man had punched him in his throat.
“It’s not sad,” he forced through that throat. “We’re good. We know what we are and it’s all good.”
“Not good the way it could be,” Bub returned.
He had that right.
“So it’s all good,” Bubba kept at him, “why’d you take off and why’d she run after you?”
“Because I didn’t know she was a Lonesome until last night, somethin’,” Deke said with eyes narrowed on Bubba, not that he cared, just using that to deflect the shit Bubba was giving off Deke, “seems like you knew but you didn’t share. And she thought I was pissed. It was a surprise but I wasn’t pissed. We talked it out and it’s all good.”
“You talked it out and it’s all good, why no sandwiches today, man? Why’d she get ready in her room, not findin’ a dozen reasons like she usually does to come out and have a natter with you, which translates into coming out and just bein’ around you, and instead she hauls ass outta here tellin’ you she’ll see you on Monday?”
“’Cause shit’s getting done in her house,” Deke explained logically, since it was true but it was also a lie. “She’s only a couple of weeks away from a full crew gettin’ in here and she’s got you helpin’ to keep that goin’ and she doesn’t have any furniture, brother. She lives her life like this,” Deke threw out a hand to the space, “she gets a microwave, she’s gonna be on that like white on rice. Can’t be on that if the woman doesn’t even have plates.”
Bubba gave him a look and changed tactics.
“You should go for that, man.”
“She’s not my type.”
Bubba’s head twitched. “You got a type?”
“Yeah, and it isn’t Jussy.”
“Jussy,” Bub whispered, looking now like he was trying not to smile.
“Yeah, Jussy,” Deke bit out. “A Jussy who wants ceilings and walls, not two men standin’ around on scaffolding gabbin’ like women. So how ’bout we get on givin’ her that?”
Another change came over Bubba and he said low, “She told Krys who she is ’cause her and Krys are getting close.” A small smile hit his lips as he shook his head and went on, “Don’t get that, how Krys makes everyone go through her twelve circles of hell to get in there but she let Jus in. Jus let her in in return. And Jus said she didn’t want us sharing.”
“I get that.”
“Sorry, bro. But it was hers to give.”
“I get that,” Deke repeated. “Now can we get to work?”
“Yeah,” Bubba replied. “After I go on record saying I think you’re making a big mistake.” He leaned toward Deke. “Huge.” He leaned back. “I don’t know what’s holding you back but whatever it is, got a bad feeling you’re throwin’ away the best thing that ever dropped in your lap.” He lifted a hand, palm up Deke’s way when Deke opened his mouth. “Your life, your choice. Not gonna say another word but I’ll have a word with my woman to get her and her posse to rein it in. But there it is. I’m on record. And I hope you think about it. But your life, your choice.”
“Can I take it with that we’re done?” Deke asked.
Bubba nodded. “We’re done.”
“Then let’s get to work,” Deke muttered.
Bubba gave him a long look but thank fuck, after giving it, he turned away.
Deke turned his thoughts from all Bubba had to say.
It’s good to finally know why you stood me up.
Shit.
She sang right to you.
Right to you.
Fuck.
He turned his thoughts from Jussy too.
And he turned them to giving her the only thing he’d be able to give her that she couldn’t give herself.
Something she actually could give herself since she was paying for it.
That being progress on the house she bought that she needed done and made safe so she could find her peace.
* * * * *
Justice
Sunday night, I stood in the great room where I’d come home to all three lamps lit because Deke had left them that way.
I put that thoughtfulness out of my mind and looked up.
I had a quarter of a fabulously stunning, wood ceiling laid in a herringbone pattern, the theme from the deck flowing through that space.
Symmetry.
I was finally getting it.
Right in time not to want it.
Zigs and zags were a lot better, I realized. You could cut and run on a zig, leave it all behind on a zag.
Now I was stuck.
I also saw the drywall upstairs ready for Deke to get started on giving me rooms the next day. And with the way he was going, it’d all be done, taped and primed by next week.