As it turned out, there was a single place left within Possum Springs city limits that sold paint.
It also turned out that they didn't have the paint Mae wanted. So, instead, they headed out to Briddle, the next nearest place that had the paint they wanted. It was only about a thirty minute drive, so they hit the road and got to it.
"This is actually super fun," Bea said after they'd hit the highway.
"Yeah?" Trent replied, looking over at her. She looked happy. More than that, she looked relaxed. Well, mostly.
"Yes. And it's kind of weirding me out. I had to deal with crap like this all the time for the Pickaxe. Hauling stuff, moving stuff, unloading stuff, driving out to places and dealing with crap. But now it's like...fun. Maybe it's because there's no pressure and I'm doing something nice for a friend. Speaking of which, uh, do you think this whole thing is actually a good idea? What Mae's doing?" she asked.
"I don't really know, but I trust her. I mean, she clearly is into the idea. Which is kind of surprising, because given everything I've learned about her, I thought her pointing a camera at herself and then showing it to the internet would be the last thing on her list of things she wanted to do, but it makes sense to her. And I mean she's flat out told me there's a really good chance that she's never going to get her shit together enough to hold down, like, a traditional job. So if she can make this work even on a really simple level, like even scraping together a few hundred bucks a month, that'd be a win, given we all live together."
"Speaking of that...uh, where do you stand on like...your girlfriend...s...and having jobs?" Bea asked, suddenly awkward.
"In what regard?" he asked, not sure what she was driving at.
"Uh…"
"Come on, Bea. I've never known you to beat around the bush."
She sighed. "Fine. When I quit next month, and I'm going to, because I don't think I can last any longer, I'm not getting another job for awhile. A few months at the absolute minimum. Because I have a lot of actually fucking enjoying my life to catch up on, and with the money I made from selling off all that furniture, as well as actually pulling a few other deals on the side, I've got the cash to make that happen."
"Deals on the side?" he asked.
"People started to know me as the girl who connected furniture sellers to furniture buyers, and it's just legwork. I took a percentage of every sale and made like another grand over the past month...what's that look for? I can fucking hustle."
"No, I'm just-I'm impressed, is all. It's...nice."
She laughed. "Does that turn you on or something?"
"Smart, successful women doing things successfully turns me on, yes," Trent replied.
"Lucky for me, because I fucking crush business deals. Like a black hole. Anyway...what I'm asking is: how comfortable are you dating a jobless girl? I mean I guess I shouldn't bother because you're dating Mae, and you started dating Ann while she was having her problems, but I also didn't know if, when we started dating, you were like 'oh thank God, finally, a girl with a job'. Not to fucking shit on Mae or Ann or anything, but...do you see what I'm saying?"
"I see what you're saying," Trent replied, "and if I had it my way, none of us will work shitty jobs we hate. I mean we've got bills to pay but if we can pay those bills doing stuff that doesn't involve going to some building we fucking hate and working under some douchebag with a power trip obsession for fucking shit wages, then we absolutely should. I mean shit, right now my most ideal life is me and Mae and Ann and you all live together and work jobs that we love, or at least like half the time, and are free. So you can safely assume that I'm not against you being out of work for awhile. Also, if I was, would you seriously not tell me to fuck off and deal with it?"
"I mean…" She heaved another sighed. "I don't know, man! I mean part of me is like 'yes, you can fuck off on my work choices', but another part of me is like 'I'm in a relationship now, there's going to be conversations and compromises', and another part of me is like 'I'd do anything for him and that fucking terrifies me'. Okay? Believe it or not, I'm not like those women who see basically any form of compromise as bullshit and think that they should be allowed to do literally anything they want in the relationship just because they have a vagina and women, on the whole, are treated shittier than men. Okay?"
"I never thought you were like that, Bea," he said.
"I know, I know. Fuck. I'm sorry. I just...get defensive. Sorry."
"It's okay."
"Thanks. You're, like, really understanding. I know I keep saying stuff like that, it's just, I don't think you really get it. How much I thought I'd have to be in a relationship where I'd have to fight for, like, everything. Chris? He's like the average guy in Possum Springs. And then I meet you and everything's just so easy. And I'm not saying I want to fight, I'm just amazed I don't have to, and I'm just…"
"Paranoid. That you're missing something."
"Yes. Fuck. You already know me really well. And I don't know how to feel about that either."
"Feel good about it, Bea."
"I guess so. Anyway, um, so in that back-and-forth of conversation, me living with you came up. And I know I snapped at Mae when she was all over the moon about it, but it is something I've been thinking about. Obviously. Um...can I safely assume that you would like it if I moved in?"
"You can very safely assume that," Trent replied. "And obviously Mae is just in love with the idea. And Ann is receptive to it."
"I feel like I've connected with her at this point, but at the same time, it's also hard to get a read on her. I'm a little worried she might not tell me if she didn't want me actually living with her."
"She'd tell you," Trent replied. "Trust me. She's just that chill. But she'd speak up. She's learned how to advocate for herself. It's something she learned in rehab."
"See? Jesus, that's why you're a great significant other. You know shit about us, because you listen. And that's rarer than you'd think...okay, thanks for letting me know."
"So...are you gonna move in? Because that'd be awesome," Trent said after a few moments.
"Maybe. Probably...yes. But not immediately," Bea replied. "I need to sort some stuff out with my dad first. Also, when I move in, it won't be as your girlfriend. I don't think we'll be able to be public until we get out of Possum Springs."
"Hmm."
"What? That was an unhappy 'hmm'. Was it just a general one or...is this becoming an issue?" she asked.
"I mean...I guess I was just thinking...you're gonna have to cross the line at some point. And that's not me just firing off an annoyed statement because it irritates me and I can't think of anything else to say. I'm saying that because it's occurring to me that...we can't hide this forever. Somehow it's going to slip out. And likely in a potentially public way. I mean...let's say we move to Bright Falls-"
"Harbor. Bright Falls is from Alan Wake."
"How do you know that?"
"I watch Let's Plays sometimes and that game was amazing. Sorry, go on."
"Okay. Um...right, so let's say we move to Bright Harbor, and our poly lifestyle is acceptable there. Or at least we stop giving a fuck if people know. I'm almost certain, I'm positive, that somehow, someway, it'll get back here. It could be a photograph where we're kissing in the background. It could be that we're out on a date and someone from Possum Springs might be visiting and sees us being romantic and bring word back. Could be damn near anything. I'm not saying that you should just give it up and like, we should fuck in town square or something, but I'm saying that the reasons you have to not let people know you are dating now, may last longer than you think. I mean, your biggest concern is that it might hurt your dad and the Pickaxe somehow, right?"
"Yeah…" she murmured.
"That could still happen even after we move. And I'm not saying your concerns are unreasonable or stupid, or that I'm refusing to go along with them, but I am saying that at a certain point, I think you have to...live your life, within reason, and let the chips fall where they fall. Like Ann said."
The next moment was a long and silent one.
"Maybe you're right," she murmured. "I-I don't know...I need to think about this."
"Take your time."
"Because, like, I want to go on dates with you. Honestly? I want to rub it in some people's fucking faces that I'm dating you. It's petty, but by now I just don't give a fuck. But...you actually bring up a really good point...okay. I'll think about it."
"All I ask."
They came to Briddle not much later and followed his GPS through it, towards the Wal-Mart that should have their paint.
"This is where Ann lived," he murmured, looking at it. It seemed like a slightly bigger, somewhat more successful and modern Possum Springs.
"Yep...poor Ann. I feel so bad for her. So many shit things happened to her."
"So many shit things happened to all three of you," Trent said. "Like, fuck, you three really got hammered by life."
"It does feel that way sometimes. Maybe you're our gift after enduring all that shit," Bea said, grinning as she pulled into the parking lot.
"You really think so?"
"No. I don't. But it's nice to think. I mean, from the way you're reacting to us, we could be your gifts? Maybe we're all each other's gifts."
"That's a weird way to put it."
"Yeah, it's probably not too healthy to think of people like that. I gotta admit, there is an appeal to the whole fucking Disney happy ending bullshit, you know? All your problems can be solved by a prince or a princess."
"Or three," he murmured.
She laughed. "Yeah, in your case. Until you land another chick."
"You really think that's gonna happen?" he asked. They got out and started walking for the Wal-Mart.
"Probably."
"I doubt it."
"I bet you doubted you'd be dating three women a few months ago. Or that you'd be fighting a real life murder cult and an old god."
"...okay, point made. But I still doubt it."
"I guess we'll find out."
They moved through the store, and because neither of them seemed to be able to contain themselves, held hands throughout it. When they got to the paint aisle, he couldn't keep from touching her, sometimes poking her.
She sighed. "Stop!"
"Sorry," he murmured, then ran a hand down her arm.
"What did I just say?"
"Sorry," he repeated. "You're just so hot."
She giggled. "Shut up."
"It's true."
"Oh my God, Trent. There, there's the paint. Grab two and I'll grab another."
He grabbed two and then they spent a bit longer grabbing some brushes and rollers, and some primer, and then went to pay for it. As they started putting everything on the conveyor belt, Bea suddenly reached out and snagged a pair of dark black sunglasses off a rack.
"Really?" he asked.
"Trust me," she replied.
"All right."
He paid for everything and they headed out to her car. After putting it all in the backseat, she handed him the sunglasses. "Put them on."
"Any particular reason?" he asked, slipping them on.
"Yeah. Hold still." She reached up and started messing with his fur.
"You're being weird."
"Just trust me."
"I mean, I do, but you're still being weird."
She was silent as she finished messing with his fur, then she adjusted the black hoodie he was wearing. "Okay, put your hands in your hoodie pockets and then lean against my car," she instructed, pulling out her cellphone and backing up a few steps.
"Are you taking my picture?" he asked.
"Yeah...is that all right? Just trust me."
He sighed. "All right."
"Thanks, dear."
She snapped a picture of him, then started texting something. She giggled when she got a response back. "Okay, get in," she said.
"What was that about exactly?" he asked as they got back into the car and she started driving.
Bea passed him her phone. "Check it."
He looked at her screen and saw a text history between her and Ann. There was a picture of him that looked...shockingly good. He didn't photograph well, but he was surprised by how good he looked in it.
He laughed awkwardly at the text that had accompanied it when Bea had sent it: OMFG OUR BOYFRIEND IS SO HOT!
"Wow, Bea," he murmured.
"I'm not wrong," she said. "Ann agrees."
And she had, indeed. The return text read: Holy shit, that's a great pic.
"Maybe I should use this as my author photo," he muttered.
"You think? Maybe with a black and white or grayscale filter…"
"It's literally the best picture of me that's ever been taken, but the bar isn't very high," he replied.
"I've seen some pics of you on your Facebook from before we met, and you're wrong."
"You don't think you're biased towards me?"
"You don't think you're biased against yourself?"
"Hmm."
"Exactly."
They drove on.
Happenstance and luck finally met. After they got home, unloaded the stuff, and hauled the chifferobe up into the living room, the person who wanted it showed up. They loaded it up onto the truck they'd brought and got paid the whole agreed-upon amount. (That wasn't always the case, sometimes people tried to haggle, mostly when Bea wasn't there, and Trent found that he wanted to get rid of the thing more than he wanted more money).
After that, they got set up with the paint downstairs and set to work.
"You know," Trent said as they laid on the primer, "something just occurred to me."
"What?" Bea replied.
"You totally texted not just that I was your boyfriend, but that I'm also Ann's boyfriend, in the same sentence."
"So?"
"So, that's exactly what you told me not to do."
She stopped priming. "Oh. Shit." He laughed. She shrugged suddenly and resumed. "You know what? Fuck it. If my dad goes snooping through my shit and finds that, then he can just be pissed. If he comes at me with it, besides asking him what the fuck he thinks he's doing going through my shit, I'll tell him 'peek not through the keyhole, lest ye be vexxed'. I'll literally say those exact words to him," she said.
"Where have I heard that before?"
"I'm not sure where the original quote comes from, but I got it from Stephen King."
"Oh, right. Duma Key. So you don't care if he knows?"
She sighed. "I'm confident he knows we're fucking. Which: gross. But whatever. Bad enough Mae's mom suspects us all but now my dad, too? But like I said: whatever. People are gonna bang, unless they're ace. It's a safe assumption. So if he knows, then he knows. Although I don't want to, like, rub his face in it or anything. I love him and also, still, gross. Don't want my parent knowing the details of what I'm getting up to in bed. But...yeah, I'm gonna relax that. I still don't want to make out with you in front of him, but we can text hot stuff, or identifying stuff."
"Cool," he replied. "Can you send me nudes?"
She laughed. "Wow dude! That's literally the first thing that comes out of your mouth?!"
"What can I say, Mae's having an effect on me. I will totally accept no as an answer, and it was mostly a joke. And not in that douchebag 'just joking!' way. Like it really was. Mostly."
She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Maybe. We'll see...will you send me nudes?"
"I could be persuaded," he replied.
"Wow. Really?"
"Really."
"Huh. Interesting. I'll think about that."
They kept priming. When they had finished laying it on, they went upstairs and found Ann on the couch, looking at her laptop.
"What are you up to?" Bea asked.
"Editing," Ann replied. "Doing that novel job. Needs to be done by Friday. How are you two making out down there?"
"We weren't making out," Bea replied.
Trent laughed. "No, we were fucking."
"We absolutely were not," Bea said, blushing.
"I know you weren't fucking," Ann said.
"Thank you," Bea muttered.
"Because Bea is absolutely incapable of keeping her mouth shut every time you stick your dick in her," she said, grinning up at them.
"Ugh, Ann!" Bea groaned.
Both Trent and Ann laughed. "It's true!" Trent said.
"Oh whatever! We've laid in the primer and we're waiting for it to dry. Getting some lunch, you want anything?" Bea asked as they headed into the kitchen.
"Yeah, I am hungry. I should probably make something," Ann replied.
"I can get something for you," Trent said. "What do you want?"
"Uh...hmm. Turkey and cheese and mayo sandwich? And an Orange Fiasco?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
"Thank you."
"Welcome."
"You're real nice," Bea said as they began moving around the kitchen, preparing their lunches. "I know I keep saying that, and I know I keep saying that, but like...sorry, it's hard to articulate just what a big deal it is to me."
"She's right," Ann said from the living room. "Now that I've had time to really examine my marriage, well, let's just say that it's pretty obvious that he was pretty selfish. And I mean I know everyone can be, but there's definitely a limit. There comes a point at which it's just a part of someone's personality, and I've decided I don't want to be with anyone like that ever again. And you all are just so considerate. And it's awesome."
"I want this house to be awesome," Trent replied as he finished putting her sandwich together. He brought it and the soda to her. "I want awesome things to happen, and everyone to feel happy and safe and very chill when they are here…"
Trent paused as he set the sandwich and her can of soda down on the coffee table in front of her. She had set her laptop aside and was staring at him intensely, with a somewhat odd smile on her face. He waited for her to say something but she didn't.
"Hey it got quiet out there," Bea said. "Guys?" After a few seconds she came back into the room. "What-oh my, those are...a certain kind of eyes," she murmured. "I know exactly what you're feeling right now, Ann."
"What-why are you looking at me like that?" Trent asked finally.
Bea giggled and disappeared back into the kitchen.
"I'm just...appreciating you," Ann replied. "And thinking about things."
"What things?"
"I wanna go on a date with you."
"Um...even though-"
"Even though it'll have to be publicly platonic, yes. But I want to go around town with you. Take a walk. Enjoy a meal. See some sights. And then come back here and fuck your brains out."
"Wow, Ann," Bea said from the kitchen.
"I know what I want," she replied, then raised an eyebrow, still staring at Trent. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes," he replied, "I would love that. When?"
"Today. In maybe two hours?"
"Yeah, sure...although, Bea, how long until the primer dries?"
"We gotta wait at least an hour. Don't worry too much about it. You'll do what you can get done and I'll handle the rest. Ann deserves a sweet date. Maybe we can do one sometime, too. Today was really fun, and nice." She sat down in one of the recliners with her meal. "...you listening to me?"
"...yes," Trent replied.
"You're still hung up on the 'fuck your brains out' part, huh?" Ann asked.
"Yes," he repeated.
"Go get your lunch," she said with a laugh.
"Okay."