Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders. Kenny Chesney owns "Life Is Good."


Life is good, the grass is green

The good Lord is smilin' on you and me

Gonna knock on wood

January 9, 1972

Evie still couldn't believe that Steve had gotten them a house. It was his wedding gift to her, and to be quite honest, Evie was absolutely in love with it. The house was a small ranch just several blocks from where her parents lived, and it was in a decent neighborhood. She adored it, her parents loved it, and her friends thought it was fantastic. And it was. Just walking through the house itself had Evie completely wonder-struck, and each room that she entered had her beginning to imagine how it would look with her and Steve officially moving in.

They had been married for a month, spending a week in California for their honeymoon, before returning home to celebrate Christmas with Evie's family and all of their friends. It seemed that 1971 had passed them by in the blink of an eye, and neither Evie or Steve could wait to see what 1972 would bring them together. There were a few things that Evie already knew about that would be taking place that year, such as her mother officially stepping back and letting her take charge of the business. She planned to gift it entirely over to Evie in the next year, who was more than ecstatic about it. Beth had been offered a job opportunity for a company in New York City, and she planned to move there within the next few months. Ella and Mary had gotten the building for Ella's bakery, and Mary and Soda had been talking about a date for their wedding.

Everything felt surreal in a sense, as if things were starting to take off without warning. Evie was more than grateful for the good fortune her friends and family were experiencing, but she knew that with that fortune would come innate change—and there was a part of her that didn't know if she was ready to truly face all of it or not.

"Eve." Steve entered the room she was standing in, before he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "You like this room, don't ya?" he asked, kissing her cheek.

She chuckled; he knew her well enough. "I do," she replied lightly, letting her back rest against his chest as her hands began rubbing his arms. "I think it will make a great nursery one day."

"Yeah," he said, glancing around. "Little Steves and Evies running around." A laugh. "I like the sound of that."

Evie was all smiles. "Well, Mr. Randle, we had better start getting the rest of our belongings inside, or we're not going to be officially moved in until tomorrow."

Although he wasn't annoyed by her words, Steve made a sound like a low groan. The furniture was all moved it. Their friends had helped them the day before with that. It had taken them until the week prior to start packing up and moving into the house, because of everything that had taken place, like the holidays, trying to work out a schedule that was beneficial for everyone, and of course . . . all of the packing. Evie's parents had helped them find some cheap furniture for their living-room, and Steve had gotten other necessities for the house, like dishes and silverware, lights . . .

The past few weeks after their honeymoon had been exhausting.

There weren't many boxes left in Steve's truck to bring in, but it was the unpacking that they still had to do . . . not that there was much. Neither Steve or Evie had a lot, but their friends and Evie's family had been gracious enough to send them many housewarming gifts. Hell, Evie was just about over the top of her head in cleaners, linens, light-bulbs, and pantry items that her mother and aunt had sent her. It was only Steve and Evie living there, but apparently, her mother and aunt thought that they were feeding an entire army or something. Evie figured that she and Steve definitely wouldn't starve in the next few years with how much food they received—the pantry and refrigerator were loaded.

Two-Bit and Darry had been kind enough to help paint the rooms the colors Evie picked out; Steve decided that it was better he stay out of that one, so long as he was allowed to make the small garage his shop . . . which Evie had no problem with at all, so long as she was allowed to decorate the rest of the house as she saw fit . . .

All in all, things had worked out great, and Evie had never been more excited in her life.


Ella and Mary felt . . .

Was it even possible to feel this exhausted?

Taking a seat in one of the chairs by the window, Ella stretched her legs out, crossing her arms over her middle as she did. She still couldn't believe that Mary had gotten them the building . . . and for less than they originally bargained for it. Ella was feeling more hope than she had in a long time, as though she finally had something to look forward to. For the longest time, she had felt like she didn't know what it was that she wanted to do, until both Mary and Evie strongly encouraged her to pursue having her own business—and what better to have than her own bakery? Ella had always been good at baking, learning from her mother at a young age. Mary was also a decent baker, and together, they had discussed many ideas for what they could sell.

Ella would be on the pastry end, although Mary would help her out when she needed it, but she was going to focus on jams and peanut-butter. It was going to be something, Ella was certain of it, and she couldn't wait to officially get started on it. Until then, they had to finish cleaning the inside and setting things up so that they were able to bake.

It had taken this long between legalities and everything else for Mary to get them the building. It had to be inspected from top to bottom, and then there had to be some minor renovations. If it wasn't for Mary, Ella would have never made it this far, and she was blatantly aware of that fact. She was thankful to have Mary as a friend, grateful and appreciative for all of her kindness and help, because she would have never even considered going through this far.

There was still much that needed to be done, though, and both women were very aware of that. The inside wasn't complete of renovations, they needed the right equipment, and then they had to decide exactly how they planned to run everything. In some way, Mary seemed much more calmer than Ella that way, but Ella was more organized than Mary. She figured that the two of them had a good balance, though, and working together was only benefiting them more in the long run. If everything kept moving according to plan—and they didn't experience any setbacks—Ella assumed that they might be able to open the bakery by mid March. With Mary no longer traveling, they were both there to help each other out—and they were both reliable.

But between working at the ranch in the morning and then meeting Mary at the bakery afterward, Ella was feeling tired and a little overwhelmed. She was excited, she wanted to get this business up and running in full swing, but the early mornings were beginning to take their toll. It was easier for Mary to take care of things early in the morning, because she didn't work—she was more available—and Ella knew that there would come a day when she officially gave up work at the ranch. There would be no way for her to work both jobs. Unfortunately, she knew that her decision was going to impact Dallas, and although he should have assumed at some point that she would leave, Ella figured that he probably hadn't taken any of it into consideration.

"Here," Mary said, offering her a bottle of Coke. "You look like you could use this."

Ella chuckled. "Caffeine? Say no more."

The carbonation fizzled on her tongue, the cold refreshing. Hell, Ella thought to herself, but she really needed to consider fixing her diet. She didn't eat enough, and since Dallas had pointed out her rapid weight loss all those weeks ago, Ella had become more conscious to her appearance. She had gotten too skinny, and the clothes she used to wear now hung loosely over her frame. She didn't look good, and she really didn't look healthy. Ponyboy had asked her if she was dieting some time back—Ella recalled it being around Christmas, or there-whereabouts—but she had told him that she wasn't, and when he inquired if she was okay, she had only given him a polite smile and told him that she was fine.

All was fine.

She knew that it was a lie, though, but she had never told anyone about what happened, and really, she didn't plan to, because she simply didn't want to. The memory was too painful for her, and even thinking about talking it out with someone only made her feel worse—and more than that, there was a part of her that felt . . . guilty.

Meanwhile, Mary was watching Ella with a curious expression. She had noticed that her friend seemed off lately, and she was wondering if there was something wrong. Of course she knew that Ella was working two jobs currently, and the early hours at Buck's ranch were overwhelming. On the other hand, Mary was quite observant, and she had a certain feeling that there was more going on with Ella than anyone knew about. To be honest, though, aside from Dallas, Mary was the one spending the most time around her, and being in the same environment for so long often allowed one to pick up on things that seemed unusual.

Then again, Mary knew that Ella was reserved and often stubborn, and getting her to talk about things, or even admit them, was hard.

She decided to start out gently, ease into the conversation. "How are things at the ranch?" she asked, taking a sip of her own drink as she sat down across from her.

Ella sighed, heavy like. "They're good. Dallas works a lot more hours than I do . . . but I think he just prefers to stay there." A shrug. "He feels like he's doing something, which he is. It keeps him busy, too, which is what he needs."

Mary smiled a little. "You like it there, too . . ."

The older woman nodded slightly. "I do, but I'm ready for something else. I know that Shar is there, and I wouldn't trade him for the world, but . . ." She made a face, then, her eyes fixed on the bottle in her hand. "I need to do something for me, which is why I'm so glad you and Evie talked me into this." She shot her a look. "And I'm happy that you're my partner in all of it."

"I can understand that," Mary replied. She took another inch forward. "What about you and Dallas?" she pressed. "Are you two together, or . . ."

She left the question hanging, but Ella knew what she was asking. "No," she answered. "I know it looks like that sometimes, but we're not together." Her chest tightened a little as the next words came out of her mouth. "Actually, Dallas . . . well, he went on a date the other night with some girl he picked up at the bar."

Mary couldn't help snorting at that. "It's not my place or anything, Ella, but I really wish that you would find a decent man and . . . settle down. I don't mean to degrade Dallas or overstep, but as your friend, I feel that you deserve better."

To her surprise, though, Ella merely agreed. "I know."

She didn't meet her gaze, and Mary knew than that her earlier assumptions were correct. There was definitely something wrong—and she was certain that it had to do with Dallas. Maybe it wasn't their living situation, or even their relationship, but it was something pertaining to them together. Mary wasn't sure if she should attempt to pry or not, figuring that maybe she could mention something to either Evie or Ponyboy just to see if they noticed something off with their friend or not. It was always worth a shot. Besides, Ella had helped her out on several occasions before, and even though Mary was upset with her at first, she had come to realize that Ella only meant well.

It was silent for a few minutes as both women took a break from cleaning, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they continued to sip at their drinks leisurely. They only a had a few hours of work left anyway, and Mary figured that they had time to kill. They usually took their leave around four or so, and since Mary had plans with Soda that evening, she wanted to split a little early to have time to prepare herself. The good thing was that they were ahead of schedule, and the next thing to cross off of their massive list was order the equipment that they needed. Darry and Two-Bit were going to stop by some time that week after work and paint the inside of the building for them, which was a major help to both women.

Ella's voice broke the silence, causing Mary to turn back in her direction. "Do you and Soda have any ideas in mind for your wedding date?"

Mary grinned, slightly glad for the small-talk. "Well, actually," she began, "I know Soda wants to get married this year . . . so it could be as early as this Summer."

"Really?" Ella couldn't help the shock in her voice.

"I know it's soon, and with everything else going on it seems like a lot," Mary replied, lips pressing together for a moment. "I don't want anything too crazy, though, and neither does he."

Ella nodded. "I understand." She forced a smile. "I bet you're awfully excited, though."

"I am," she affirmed, eyes seeming to gloss over.

And really, she was.


It was bitter out, but Dallas trudged on, finding more serenity in doing work at the ranch than he did not doing anything with himself. He needed something to keep himself busy, though—he didn't want to get too wrapped up in his thoughts. If anything, he tried to focus his mind on that chick he had picked up the other night. Yeah, he told himself, she was surely something alright . . . like a pain in his ass. Her name was Connie something-or-other—he couldn't remember—and she had provided him with enough entertainment that he thought she was worth another date . . . if only she could quit whining about everything and everyone around them.

He could tell quite easily that she wasn't one for committing or anything like that, which he was able to appreciate immediately. It wasn't like he was looking for a relationship or anything like that. No, he had had enough of shit like that—and Ella was only a reminder of that. Fuckin' Ella. No matter how hard he tried to remove her from his thoughts, she kept weaving herself right back in without any warning. Of course, Dallas cared for her in his own way, even looked out for her here and there, but with her and Mary DeVaney working on opening their business, Dallas hardly saw much of her anymore. Well, he saw her early mornings at the ranch, but during the past few weeks, Ella had been taking up residence at Jan's . . .

It wasn't something that really concerned him, as Ella had done so plenty of times in the past. He didn't need to question her about it, either—if she wanted him to know, she could tell him herself. Besides, he didn't want her to latch to him emotionally again. In some way, he was glad to have some distance between them, figuring it would do her some good.

Dallas knew that Ella still loved him, and he did care for her; he wanted her to be happy, although he wasn't going to outright tell her that. In some way, there was a small part of him that wanted her to be happy with him, but he knew that she never would be. She wanted more from him than he was willing to offer . . . because he couldn't. It would end up being more of a one-sided relationship, which is exactly what caused them to break things off several times in the past. For whatever reason, the two of them would end up right back with one another, and there were times when Dallas wished that Ella would stay with Jan permanently and find someone who could give her exactly what she needed. He did enjoy her company when it suited him, as well as his needs, but in the long run, he also didn't want to keep dragging her around.

Ella was smart, though—he had to give her that. She knew the score well enough, and she didn't obsess herself over him too much, just like he didn't with her.

The sound of Buck's beaten up truck pulling to a stop behind him pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned around to nod in acknowledgment. Buck returned it as he hopped down, a cigarette hanging from his mouth as he inhaled slowly.

"Fuckin' cold out here," he remarked, nostrils flaring.

Dallas rolled his eyes. "What else do you expect for January?"

Buck watched him unload the bales of hay, frost around the stacks. "I might've gotten us a deal with a few ponies . . ."

"What kind of deal?"

A smirk crossed Buck's lips as he tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stepping on it. "They're wild ones," he said calmly. "Got a few that are tamed, some that are ready for breeding, but I was thinkin' that me an' you sell them as both tamed and ready to be bred, go fifty-fifty on the dough."

It was times like this particular one when Dallas really wanted to punch Buck's lights out. He was smart when it came to certain things, but this wasn't one of them. Besides, whatever Buck wanted to sell the ponies for wouldn't be a whole lot, so it wasn't like they would be getting much between them. This is the shit that drove Dallas up a wall and then some.

"Ain't that what you got in trouble for just a few months ago?" he asked, shaking his head. "Dumbass."

Buck shifted onto his other foot, a cool look blanketing his face. He knew better than to mess with Dallas Winston when he was in one of his moods, and he really wasn't aiming to tangle with him in the long run. He figured that a little trouble wouldn't kill the guy; Dallas's record had been clean for over seven years at this point. Besides, in Buck's mind, he wasn't looking to get Dallas directly involved in police trouble—he just needed a lookout. The problem only rested in the sole fact that Dallas had been long out of the game, and when it came to dealing with horses, he liked to do it honestly. He had always been that way, as far as Buck knew. He had pride when it came to winning fairly and evenly, and he had once decked a guy who accused him otherwise.

He pointed a finger in his direction. "I ain't lookin' for trouble, Winston. Just need someone who can talk the talk, or be a lookout. 'Sides, I think the cut for you is pretty fair."

"Yeah?" Dallas bit out sharply, eyes narrowing. "And who else do you have involved in this grand scheme of yours? Huh, Buck?" A bitter smirk appeared on his lips. "How many fucking idiots are you letting in on your plans of dicking people out of fair money, or trades, or whatever-the-fuck-else?" He shook his head, turning back to toss another bale of hay. "You talk too much."

But Buck was ever persistent. "Not that many." It wasn't the truth, and they both knew it. Buck always had a bad habit of opening his mouth and filling his neighbor's ears. He pressed on. "Look, it's five hundred in half. You come and talk to me when you get your shit together."

Dallas wanted to spit in his direction, but decided not to. There were plenty of times when he simply couldn't stand Buck Merril . . . and as the older cowboy aged, he just seemed to get worse. Of course, his drinking habits weren't helping, either. Dallas was grateful for the job, and for Buck's cousin Joe giving him the house, but it was shit like this that really pissed him off. Yeah, he would talk to him alright—more like punch some fucking sense into his thick skull. Jesus H. Christ. Instead of letting Buck piss him off more, he forced himself to keep his trap shut, going back to work with a scowl.


Ella decided to visit Dallas that night.

She wasn't sure what good that it was going to do her, especially in the long run, but she hadn't really seen him all that much, and there were times when they would sit around and catch up on things. That was the part of him that she loved to be around—so long as he was in a decent mood. She knew that he was seeing that other girl, even though it wasn't anything like a commitment. No, she and Dallas had been through these cycles plenty of times already, and they both knew each other well enough to make accurate assumptions. Dallas had dated several girls after the two of them split, and there had been times when Ella had accidentally walked in on them at the house. They were always surprised to see her there, but Dallas was the type of guy that didn't give a damn.

Still, for whatever reason, he always let her know when a new one was in town.

Ella figured that she and Dallas had a pretty dysfunctional relationship—even friendship. She hated that she loved him so much sometimes, but there were times when it was simply impossible to walk away and never look back—and there was a part of her that knew she never would. With what happened last Summer only being a cherry on top of that collapsing cake, Ella's guilt toward herself for not talking to Dallas about it only made her feel . . . more devoted to him. It was all in her head, she knew, but keeping it to herself for so long was only hurting her all the more.

Dallas's truck wasn't there when she arrived, but an unwanted guest was lounging in one of the chairs on the porch, and the young woman's teeth grounded as she climbed out of her car, eyeing him with a look of innate suspicion.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, not hiding the dislike in her voice.

Danny merely looked her over with a casual expression. "I'm lookin' for Dallas, sweetheart. You seen him around?"

"I wouldn't tell you if I have."

His gaze was piercing as he sucked on his cigarette, the tip burning cherry red in the darkness. From what he remembered of this broad—Ella, if memory served him correctly—he didn't much care for her, or her pointed attitude toward him right then. Bitch was too big for her own britches, he thought, but there was a prominent smirk developing on his thin lips.

On the other hand, Ella was watching him with a calculating expression of her own. She didn't like this guy, and she certainly didn't trust him as far as she could see him. She remembered what little Dallas had told her about him, and even though she was slightly nervous about being in his presence—not to mention the fact that they were alone—she decided to stand firm where she was. She had meant what she said, though—she wasn't about to go handing over information. There was something off about Danny Osbourne, and if Dallas didn't trust him, either, Ella knew that there was much more to him than she would probably ever know.

Perhaps it was best to leave sleeping dogs lie in this particular case. It would be safer for the both of them that way.

Another drag. "I bet you wouldn't." He stood up slowly, walking down the steps with an almost animalistic expression, not once removing his eyes from her form. But Ella stood her ground, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up at him. He stopped once he was directly in front of her, a dark tint to his eyes. "You see Dallas, you tell him I'm looking for him. Got a message about a . . . Buck Merril." He half-grinned as he watched her eyes widen in recognition. "Tell him that I was here."

Ella wanted to slap him as he dropped his lit cigarette in front of her feet, blowing a circle of smoke right into her face, before he took his leave.


Mary sighed contently, her eyes fluttering open softly as she continued to run her fingers through Soda's hair, his face still buried in her neck, his breath hot against her skin. A light moan left her lips as he pressed another kiss to her sensitive flesh, his hands still gripping her bare hips. They stayed entangled like that for another few moments, both spent from their intimacy, and Mary felt happy that she decided to put her traveling days on hold. She still couldn't believe that Soda had proposed, that they were engaged. It still felt surreal to her in a sense, but this is what she wanted, and she knew that it was what he wanted, too.

She breathed in slowly. "I love you," she whispered, voice still breathy. "So much."

Soda lifted his head to look at her, his eyes dark and still glossy. "I love you, too, darlin'," he replied, and kissed her once on the lips. He took her hand in his, looking at the small engagement ring he had gotten her. He hadn't had one when he asked her to marry him, but he had presented it to her on Christmas day, which led to her spilling tears of utter happiness. "Forever."

A smile brushed her lips. "So, Ella was asking today if we were considering wedding dates, and I was thinking about Summer . . ."

"Summer's good," he agreed. "I like Summer."

Out of himself and his brothers, Soda figured he was the only one who truly enjoyed the hot weather; neither Ponyboy or Darry could stand it. Ponyboy liked early Autumn when it was comfortable enough to wear a light sweater, and Darry liked cooler temperatures. Huh, Soda thought, they were as different as they were alike. Nevertheless, Soda loved the Summertime, a trait that he shared with his father. Mrs. Curtis was into the Autumn scene, but she always loved the holidays, and it was her hobby to get really into the festivities. In that sense, Ponyboy was like her . . . and Darry to a degree. The only reason Darry tolerated warm weather was because of football, and Soda had to smirk to himself as he remembered those days.

How long ago they seemed now.

Mary nodded. "Okay."

"What about . . . July fourth?"

Her eyes met his. "July fourth?" she repeated, sounding a little uncertain. "I'm not against it, but I am a little surprised." That was the thing she adored about Soda, though—he could be so spontaneous. "You would really want to get married then?"

"Sure," he said, grinning all the more. "Why not?"

Mary was laughing by then. "Alright," she replied. "If that's what you want."

"Well, you'll be the one planning the entire thing out, I'm sure," he teased, squeezing her sides lightly as she squealed. "And I think you will come up with something festive enough for the day."

"You do, do you?" she challenged. "And you're not going to help out at all?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I don't think I need to."

They were both chuckling, but Mary grinned as she wrapped her arms back around his neck, pulling him closer to her as she kissed him passionately. Glory, but she sure loved this man. Of course, she knew that he would help out, and even though she thought his choice of their wedding date was little comical, she had to admit that she liked it. It was something completely out of the ordinary . . . and she figured if nobody had plans, they would have them now. Like she had relayed to Ella, though, neither she or Soda wanted anything big—it would be small, much smaller than Evie's and Steve's wedding, but it would be with their family and friends. At this rate, Mary figured it would be more of Soda's family and friends than anything; she really didn't keep in contact with anyone from her side of the family . . . and since Aunt Vera's death, she hadn't heard anything from anyone on that side.

Her thoughts dissipated in the back of her mind as Soda's lips met her own, his hands cupping her cheeks as she grinned into the kiss.

Sweet sunshine everywhere I look

You love me like no one could

Life is good


Thank you for reading! :3