The Next Door Boys (2 page)

Our street was popular for students. There were too many cars for each house and few looked like the car of a responsible adult or homeowner. BYU stickers and banners showed in more windows than not.

“So, this is it.” He pulled into a narrow driveway that ran between two nearly identical brick houses. Once we got into the backyard, the driveway split into two. The gravel turned slowly into grass on either side. I guessed it was sort of a free-for-all with parking.

“We share a backyard then?” I looked between the homes.

“Yes, but I promise not to watch you too closely,” he joked.

“It's fine, Jaron. Really.” Jaron watched me, but it wasn't like Mom's constant presence. I still had my own place and could hide anytime I liked.

I climbed out of his car just as two guys ran up the driveway. Both of them were a sweaty mess from the hot afternoon.

Jaron smiled and looked over the car at me as they approached. “That's Brian, my roommate. We share the basement. The other guy is Stuart. He and his wife live upstairs and own the house I live in.”

Brian looked like someone I'd probably avoid. He had tattooed arms and looked older than I did, I'd guess five years. He wasn't a huge guy, but next to my brother and Stuart, he was much broader. He had short, dark brown hair and brown eyes. He moved with a confidence I wasn't used to, and I found myself immediately intimidated by him. Stuart had a head full of shaggy brown hair that was wet from sweat and a wide smile for his narrow face.

“Hey guys!” Jaron waved. “Leigh, I want you to meet Brian Wright and Stuart Riley.”

They stopped next to Jaron's car, almost completely out of breath.

“Nice to meet you guys.” I waited for all the kid sister, little girl stuff, but to my great relief, it never came.

“It'll be interesting getting to know someone who's put up with Jaron longer than we have.” Brian grinned at my brother, and Jaron smiled back. I could see right away that they were as close as he'd said. I was glad for him. I hoped his relationship with Brian filled some of the gap left by our older brother, Joseph. Joseph left home when Jaron was about thirteen, and we didn't hear from him aside from a signed card for birthdays and Christmas.

“Well, let's help you haul some of this stuff in,” Stuart offered. “Looks like you brought a few things.” He peered into the backseat.

“She sews,” Jaron explained as he opened his bursting trunk. “She had a hard time trying to decide what she couldn't live without.”

“My mom was a tailor.” Brian picked up a bag of mine. “If I remember right, they make a different machine for everything.”

“Yeah, they do.” I followed Jaron down the concrete steps to my new apartment. It was unlocked, and my room was the only one unoccupied. The carpet looked worn and the furniture probably all came from DI. The small kitchen was right out of 1978—all dark wood and orange—but everything felt clean and tidy. If I stood on my tiptoes, I could see grass through the tiny windows. It took the boys only a few minutes to get everything hauled in.

“Thanks, guys.” I waved as they ran up the stairs, still high from their run.

“Well, you know where to find me. I'll do my best to leave you alone.” Jaron started to walk out. “Oh, church is at nine a.m., and we usually hang out on the Rileys’ back porch afterward. You're not required to come, and you're not required to stay awake if you do come.” He winked and left.

I looked around and smiled. My place. Jaron had found me a bed and a dresser and had stuffed my closet with all types of hangers and three shoe racks. He knew me well. I turned around and was wondering where to set my two sewing machines when I saw a large desk on the far side of my bed. Perfect. I'd have to thank him later.

“Hey, our new girl must be here!” I heard a girl's voice from my doorway.

“Come on in.” I turned to face her.

“I'm Kim.” She stuck out her hand and I took it. She was shorter than me. She had dark hair that fell just above her shoulders and a great body, which was completely on display. Her small running shorts and tank didn't cover much. I was embarrassed to look at her too closely. Mom would have never let me leave the house wearing so little.

“I'm Megan,” a girl behind her said. I reached out and shook her hand as well. Megan stood a little taller than me, with long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles. Something about the way she moved made me like her immediately. I couldn't put my finger on it, but she reminded me of my brother.

“I'm Leigh.” I smiled.

“Jaron's little sister,” Kim said.

There it was: “Jaron's little sister.”

“Yep.” I held in my sigh and started pulling out the clothes that needed to hang.

“Wow, you have some great stuff in there,” Kim said, skimming over the clothes in my bag.

“Thanks.” I picked up the small pile in front of her. Seriously, who helps themselves to look through someone's bag? Even if it's open.

“You sew, is that right?” Megan asked.

Here we were. The “girl who sews” and “Jaron's little sister.” Brilliant. I lasted a whole five minutes.

“Yep.” I slid a few skirts onto my arm and turned back to the closet.

“You made these?” Kim started looking closer at the clothes I was trying to hang up.

“A lot of them.” I slid another skirt onto a hanger.

“Well,” Kim said, straightening up, “We're going to have to get to know each other.” She smiled at me. “Okay, I'm off! I need to shower before my date tonight!” She bounded out of the room.

“Don't mind her,” Megan said quietly. “She's nice; you'll get used to her. We're all going to have a lot of fun together.”

“Okay.” I wasn't convinced.

“Do you need any help?” Megan stepped forward.

“Um… no thanks.” How do you tell someone where to put things when you don't know where they'll be going?

“When did you get here?” I asked.

“Oh, I've been in this place for almost two years.” Megan leaned against the door. “I hoped to get my nursing degree done before my missionary comes home, but I'll fall short one semester.”

“Wow, so you've been waiting for someone for almost two years?” I couldn't imagine.

“Yep.” She stood a little taller, pleased with herself. “He comes home just before Thanksgiving. I can't wait!”

“That's great.”

“And your brother said you were working your way into the architecture program?” She looked unsure.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I'm looking forward to it.”

“You're crazy.” She shook her head. “Too much math for me.”

“I like it.” I grabbed a few more hangers from the closet.

“Well, I guess we'll see you later then. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” She turned back out of my room.

“Thanks, Megan.” She seemed nice, easy to get along with.

I had packed carefully; it didn't take me too long to get everything in order. My sewing boxes were already sorted and labeled. Everything sat in its place in no time, and I stood there, completely satisfied, looking at my own room in my own place. I loved it.

My phone rang in my pocket, pulling me from my train of thought. I glanced down. Mom. My stomach sank—I forgot to call.

“Sorry, Mom. We're here, we're fine. I didn't mean to get off to a bad start, I was just excited to move in, that's all.”

There was a pause at the other end. I could tell Mom knew I felt bad, and she was regrouping. She'd probably planned some sort of speech that I'd just saved myself from.

“Glad you're having fun. How was the drive?”

“Fine. We stopped for pizza like always and made it in no time at all. Jaron and the other guys from next door helped me get my stuff in. Jaron did a great job getting me the basics, so I'm pretty set.” I sat on the edge of my bed.

“Well, good. Are you excited about going to your new ward?”

“Yeah. It'll be weird though. I've never been to a college ward, and Jaron's the ward clerk, so I might not get to sit next to him.”

“What about your roommates?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, I'll probably sit with them.” I had no idea if I would or not, but I knew it would make Mom feel better. “They're nice.”

“Well, I'm going to try not to bother you too often, but that means you need to call your mom once in a while and let me know how you are, okay?” She was trying, but I found it hard to be patient with her.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Love you, Leigh.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

I sighed. I wondered if she'd ever believe that I'd be okay.

two

I set my alarm for seven in the morning. I wanted to look nice for my first Sunday in my new ward. I picked out one of my favorite pencil skirts, a pair of black platform heels, and a cute little short-sleeved turtleneck. My hair was still shorter than I'd like, but I tried to have fun with it just the same, curling the back tightly and bringing up the sides in pins. I stepped out of the bathroom very pleased with myself.

Megan and Kim stood ready and waiting. Megan dressed simply, with a plain khaki skirt, half-sleeved T-shirt, and flat shoes. Kim wore a tight black dress that fell just above her knees and had super tiny sleeves. She had on not just high heels, but stilettos. It was barely appropriate for a date. BYU dress standards were strict, and it seemed like a little much for a Sunday, though it was my first college ward. I grabbed my scriptures, and Megan, Kim, and I walked out into the yard. The boys waited on the Rileys’ porch.

“There you are, finally,” Jaron said.

“What do you mean, finally?” I felt proud of myself for being ready early. We still had ten minutes before the start of sacrament meeting.

“Is that church appropriate?” Jaron pointed at me.

“What are you talking about?” I looked down at my outfit. My skirt was at least six inches longer than Kim's.

“I would guess that it means you're looking entirely more grown up than Jaron would like you to look.” Brian laughed, hopped over the Rileys’ back porch handrail, and started walking down the driveway. Jaron shrugged as if that might be the case, and we all started after Brian together.

Jaron stepped next to me and held his arm out for me to take. We'd walked like that since we were little.

“Have you heard anything from Joseph?” Jaron asked cautiously. Joseph had moved out before I turned 10; he was 18 at the time and done with high school. I didn't know what the whole story was. Jaron didn't either. I did know that Mom and Dad never heard from him. Jaron told me just after he moved out that Joseph and Dad were always arguing, but he didn't know anything more. I knew it had something to do with church and disagreements. I had no idea if he was active or not. I really didn't know anything about him. I probably wouldn't be able to pick him out of a crowd.

“Got my signed birthday card,” I said. “He's still in Oregon, and I owe him another letter.” I'd been sending Joseph sporadic letters since he left home.

“You're still doing that?”

“Yep.” I knew if I kept it up, something would come of it eventually.

“How do you know he's reading them?”

“I don't,” I said, “but when we moved with Mom and Dad from Seattle, he started sending our cards to St. George, so he had to at least be looking at the return address.”

“Guess you're right.” He smiled a little.

The Rileys’ porch was set up like an outdoor living room. There were two couches, several chairs, a hammock up and off to the side, and a table in the middle.

Another friend of Jaron's, Evan, came for dinner Sunday night on the Rileys’ porch. He was tall, taller than all of the boys who lived next door to me. He had an easy smile and a friendly demeanor. Kim sat next to him and listened intently to everything he said. She glanced over at him often, even when he wasn't the one speaking. I guessed they liked each other.

Brian stood up when Stuart came onto the porch followed by a beautiful woman with dark skin and straight hair, almost black. “You already know Stuart, but this is his wife, Julie.” Brian caught my eyes as he spoke. “Stuart and I were in the military together for a short while.” Brian elbowed Stuart with a smile.

I was still afraid to hold Brian's gaze for too long. His shirt-sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the first of his tattoos. I stole glances at him a few times, wondering how he got from a tattooed military man to a church member, especially one who got along with someone as straight-arrow as Jaron.