Authors: Michelle Lynn
Chapter 2 – Present Day 25 years old
The plane dips down and both of my hands clutch the armrests. I have never liked flying but I am extra on edge this trip. I don’t want to go back home but I have no choice. My brother has decided to finally marry his college sweetheart, Lindsey Jacobson.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Lindsey and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law. The problem is that they planned a week-long wedding extravaganza and, like every other wedding of the Bigs and Littles over the years, everyone is involved. Therefore, I’m not only spending a week with Jack and Lindsey and their wedding party, but I’ll also be seeing Bryan, Mackenna, and, from what I heard last night, Trent.
A hand squeezes mine gently. “It’s alright sweetie, just some turbulence,” Ian Fisher, my best friend, says quietly.
“I know. I hate flying,” I say. Ian and I became best friends our senior year of college when we worked together at the rec center. We both lusted over the same guy but unfortunately for me, the object of our mutual affection swung Ian’s way, not mine.
I made Ian take a week off work to come with me, and since he already knows most of the people, it will make things easier. I need him there with me to face everyone again.
“It’s going to be fine Maddy, just relax.” Ian looks at me, squeezes my hand, and then goes back to reading his magazine. We both know he isn’t talking about the flight, and we also both know that things won’t be fine.
The plane lands five minutes early. I am torn with wanting to get off or not, but I know I have to. Ian and I make our way to baggage claim and he stops on the way to get one of the luggage carts.
“Why do we need that?” I ask sharply.
“For our bags. I can’t carry them all,” he snaps back to me.
“How many bags to do you have?” I met him at the gate this morning so both of us had already checked our luggage.
“I don’t know,” he says, tilting his head down to look at me.
“Oh God, you probably have more than me,” I gripe.
“Probably. Now help me pull this through,” Ian says, yanking at the cart corral.
“Here, let me help,” a deep voice says from behind us.
I see the tanned forearm easily guide the cart out of the corral. My eyes roam upward, taking in a firm bicep, strong shoulders, and when my eyes reach the face attached to all of the above, I gasp.
“Hey Madgirl, long time no see,” Gabe Basso says, smirking at me.
“Gabe,” I say stunned. I’m not ready to face him so soon.
“I know, I caught a break at work in order to get here early.” His eyes leave mine, focusing on Ian. “Hi, I’m Gabe,” he says, extending his hand out toward Ian.
Ian looks as dumbfounded as I probably do, but puts his hand out to shake Gabe’s.
“Sorry, Ian this is Gabe Basso. Gabe, this is Ian Fisher.” I motion my finger back and forth between the two of them.
“Nice to meet you,” Ian says.
Gabe nods his head to him. “What baggage claim are you guys at?” he asks.
“Five, you?” Ian takes charge of the conversation, since apparently I have been struck mute. If I am this bad in front of Gabe, how will I make it through everyone else?
Gabe’s eyes shift to me and I see the concern in his eyes. “Six,” he answers. “Is anyone picking you guys up?” he asks, still looking at me. I can’t believe how much he looks like Trent, or more accurately, how much Trent looks like him.
“I rented a car. I didn’t want to rely on anyone for rides the whole week,” I say, divulging more information than necessary.
“Do you mind if I hitch a ride? I was going to catch a cab, but since you guys are here....” he says, his sentence trailing off.
“Sure, no problem,” I say with a shrug.
The three of us walk over to our respective baggage claims. I can see Gabe’s has already started moving, but ours is still quiet. A minute later, Gabe jogs over to us, holding a garment bag in his hand.
Although it’s only June, Gabe is already tan, which I assume has to do with living in Florida instead of the Midwest. I’d heard that Gabe moved down there after college with a couple of buddies, going in together on some real estate deals. I also heard that he’s doing pretty well for himself, especially for only being twenty-eight.
My bag is the first to come off, and I hope that’s a sign that this week won’t be too bad. Ian is waiting next to his cart; he has pulled off two bags already and is going for a third. His matching plaid faux designer-print luggage is a set of five and I assume he brought every piece.
“How much luggage did he bring?” Gabe asks, motioning his head toward Ian.
“I have no idea, but I bet he comes home with even more than he brought,” I say, smiling.
“I guess he’ll be prepared for whatever is going on. From what Doug told me, it’s going to be quite a week.”
“Yeah, I haven’t heard much of anything,” I respond, raising my shoulders and looking down at my feet.
“Knowing Jack, I’m sure he’s planned a fun time.”
“That’s my brother, party planner extraordinaire,” I say, smiling back up at him, noticing how perfect and white his teeth are.
“I’m looking forward to it; it has been a killer summer. All of our houses are booked for the season and we have been working like crazy getting everything ready. It was all I could do to get the time off,” he explains. “How about you, Maddy? What’s the decorating business like?”
“Hard to get into. I do most of my work for free, just to get my foot in the door. I tried to work as an assistant for another decorator, but they just want to boss you around and do their personal errands,” I confess. I have actually thought about switching careers lately, but I don’t want to go back to school.
“Yeah, I have heard that. I had a friend who graduated in fashion design and she had a hard time too.”
“What happened? Did she finally break through?” I cross my fingers, praying his answer is ‘yes’. I could use some hope to continue with my dream.
“Unfortunately, no. She ended up getting married to some investment banker she met and now lives in Connecticut with two kids,” he says, giving me a lopsided smile.
“Oh,” I murmur, deflated. I knew going into design that few people were able to really succeed in it, but since it’s my passion, I went for it anyway.
“But,” he says, nudging his shoulder with mine, “she wasn’t half as talented as you, Madeline Jennings.” He smiles down at me sweetly.
“Thank you,” I grin back, “but you have never seen my work.”
“Yes, I have,” he answers. Before I can question him further, we see Ian coming over with his cart overflowing with luggage.
“About time, Ian.” I turn around, towing my suitcase behind me. Suddenly, I feel my suitcase jerk to a stop behind me.
Gabe is there grabbing it. “You might as well take advantage of the cart,” he says, taking the suitcase from my hands and placing it on the cart. Ian huffs as though it is too much to push, but Gabe and I both chuckle as we walk to the rental car counter.
As soon as we get there, the young boy behind the counter motions for me to step forward so I walk over to him. I am surprised to see Gabe step up next to me.
“Can I help you?” the young kid asks.
“Reservation for Madeline Jennings.” I place my ID and credit card on the counter.
“Okay, we have you down for a compact this week.” The kid moves to take my ID and credit card, but a hand quickly covers them both.
“Can we upgrade to an SUV?” Gabe asks.
“What?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at him.
“His luggage isn’t going to fit in a compact,” he says, pointing to an exhausted Ian who is making his way over to the rental car place with all of the luggage in tow.
“We will have to strap it to the roof. I can’t afford to upgrade,” I admit, nodding to the young man to continue with the previously agreed upon transaction.
“First of all, I don’t think a compact has a rack you can strap luggage to,” he says, laughing. “Second, I would never make you pay. Let me get an SUV, and we can share it all week. We will be going to the same places anyway,” he adds, awaiting my answer.
I bite my bottom lip, contemplating my options. “I can’t let you do that, Gabe. Not to mention, the reason I’m getting a rental car is so that I don’t have to rely on anyone this week.”
He pulls out his wallet, handing the kid his ID and credit card. “Go ahead and book us an SUV and put both of our names on it.” He grabs my credit card and hands it back to me. “You can keep the truck and come get me when we are doing something,” he says with finality.
Did I miss something? Since when is he in charge of me? The problem is, I knew Ian’s luggage might be a problem. I guess I will just go ahead with Gabe’s plan and then drop the truck off later for him to use. I don’t need or want his charity.
We lug all of Ian’s bags onto the shuttle van that will take us to the rental car lot. When we arrive, Gabe makes me pick out the SUV we are going to use. Of course, Gabe doesn’t just get a regular SUV; he has to get a full-sized one. I pick a nice blue Chevy Tahoe, but it is huge and I don’t really want to drive it. After living in New York for the past two years, I’ve gotten used to not driving, and to go from taxi cabs to this monster of a truck is too much for me to take. When Gabe tries to give me the keys, I tell him to keep them.
Gabe raises his eyebrows, but begins loading the SUV with luggage. When the last bag is in the back, I am astonished to see that it is jam-packed with luggage.
Does he always have to be right?
We head down the freeway toward our town, which is about an hour outside of Chicago. I can’t stop nibbling on my lower lip. I don’t know what to expect when I get there. I have heard Gabe’s phone buzz a few times with text messages, and I wonder who they are from.
By the time we pass the sign “Welcome to Belcrest: population 1,531”, my lip is raw and I am starting to sweat. I can’t believe I am back in the one place I swore I would never return.
“Holy shit. You weren’t kidding when you said you came from a small town,” Ian remarks from the backseat.
“Belcrest is small but mighty. Right, Madgirl?” Gabe playfully nudges me with his elbow. That is how the football team has always been described, ‘small but mighty’. We’ve never had as many guys as the other teams, but we were still state champions five years in a row when my brother and Gabe played. By the time I graduated, the run ended.
I remain quiet, nervous about seeing everyone. We pull up to Gabe’s house, which still has the same white porch with hanging flower baskets. I get out, stretching my legs and Mrs. Basso comes walking out with a chocolate lab behind her. Dixon passed away when we were in high school and they got a new pup, Kisses, which was affectionately named by Mrs. Basso. She said she was outnumbered for years and it was time she had a girl around the house. Since all of the boys were pretty much out of the house by then, there wasn’t really a fight.
“Gabe, it’s so good to have you home,” she says, embracing him in a tight hug.
“It’s good to be home, Mom,” he responds, squeezing her back. I know he has always had a close relationship to his family, unlike me. “Anyone else here yet?” he asks.
I freeze, not wanting to know whether or not Trent is here.
“Doug is out back with your dad,” she says and then turns toward
s
me, doing a double take. She looks back and forth between Gabe and me, though whether she is confused or upset, I can’t really tell.
“Madeline?” she asks curtly.
“Hello, Mrs. Basso,” I say.
“I assumed you would be in town this week,” she says, coming over to give me a brief hug. Cold compared to how she used to hug me.
“Why are you guys driving together?” she asks, seeming irritated.
“We ran into each other at the airport and thought we would share a rental car this week.” Gabe tosses the keys in my direction.
Catching them, I hear Ian clear his throat behind me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Mrs. Basso this is my friend, Ian. Ian this is Gabe’s mom, Mrs. Basso,” I motion
back and forth.
She eyes him up and down. “Please, call me Wendy,” she says, extending her hand.
“Nice to meet you…Wendy,” Ian says, shaking her hand.
“Alright then, let’s go,” I say to Ian. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Basso. Gabe, let me know if you want the car.” I turn around before either one of them can say anything, heading back to the driver’s side of the blue monster.
“Wait, Maddy!” Gabe calls, jogging over to me.
“What’s up?” I say, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice.
“I don’t have your number. Give me your phone,” he demands.
I dig it out of my purse and hand it to him. He programs his number and then calls himself. After he hands it back to me, I see that he stored himself as the ‘Hot Basso Brother’.
“Nice,” I smirk up to him.
“It’s not my fault my brothers got stuck at the shallow end of the gene pool.” He holds his hands out, waiting for me to disagree. I don’t.
We pull out of the driveway from the place that I once considered my home, and I want to cry for all that has happened between me and the Bassos. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let myself get dragged into it again. I see Mrs. Basso giving Gabe the third-degree, probably about why he would show up with me, and I watch him shaking his head back and forth.