Page 22 of While the Sun Shines
“No, not really,” Cooper says. “Sorry, dude. Why are you back? What happened to mowing?”
“Got the tractor stuck.”
“Oh shit, the tractor’s stuck on the first hay day of the year?” Cooper asks. “Don’t tell Drew. He’ll have a heart attack.”
Drew ignores him, walking into the cool shade of the barn. Sure enough, the sheep are huddled at the far corner of their pen. Though they didn’t waste any time eating the hay set out for them. No, their manger’s already empty and they either need another couple bales or to get the hell out on the damn field.
“So, no chance we can use the tractor to pull the trailer out to the field with these ladies on it?” Cooper asks. “Because they don’t want to budge.”
“All the roads are too wet,” Drew says. And they don’t have a fresh load of gravel on them, he doesn’t add.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, and no, Coop, please don’t try anyway.”
Cooper sets his hands on his hips. “Did you stick the tractor in a swimming pool of mud just to keep me from a grand attempt?”
“No, I thought maybe I’d find the secret to finishing Whit’s room at the bottom of the puddle.”
“If I get the tractor out, and if I find the bolts—”
“Fuck! The fucking bolts! I still have no idea where they are.”
“And if I get these lovely gals out in their field, then twenty years from now—”
“Oh God, please don’t.” Drew squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t. This morning is hell already.”
“No, I’m serious. This is the most serious I’ve ever been. Who, and think this through carefully, who is it you’re going to choose—now wait for it—from among your two wonderful, supportive, lovely, charming buddies to be your best man?”
Drew opens his eyes. Penny and Abelardo are still out in the barnyard, Penny handing Abelardo the grain scoop and showing him how to throw cracked corn to the hens.
“Coop,” Drew says softly. “Don’t.”
“I gotta know, my dude.”
“Please stop.”
“And you can’t choose Sadie, so it’s either me or Whit.”
“I have a headache.”
“You have a decision to make.”
Twenty years. Drew wants to cover his face so he doesn’t have to see Abelardo and Penny out there, hens clucking around their feet, his hand on her arm.
“Sheep,” Drew says. “That’s what I’m deciding. Let’s try to get them out on pasture, okay?”
He turns away to fuss with the latch on the sheep pen. He needs to get over himself. Penny can have a friend visit.
A handsome, attractive friend.
Who’s known her for ages.
And makes her laugh, her head tipped back and the sound carrying to the barnyard.
If she wanted Drew, she’d have said something. All these years, it’s not like there hasn’t been opportunity after opportunity. And it’s Penny, who’s always listed out exactly what’s on her mind. A bathtub, she’d just said yesterday. Learning to drive the truck. A specific paint chip she’d sent him to the hardware store for when he’d redone her room over the winter, in contrast to Whit, who had just shrugged when Drew asked him what color he wanted.
It’s fine. It doesn’t matter that he’s not on her list for a romance to round out her life. That she knows what she does want from him, and it’s friend and roommate and buddy and not anything else. It’s fine, it’s good, it’s how it’s always been and how it’ll always be.
