Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(108)

“Architecture? That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Jack said.

“Yeah, I know. Me and Liz went over to Redwoods and Humboldt U, looking through all the catalogs. I met with a counselor, talked to some people. I’m good at math and I like drawing and building. I talked to Paul a little bit. My main interests and abilities seem to lean toward architecture or engineering. I’m thinking way ahead now, but it looks like I might aim for the University of Oregon in Eugene.”

Jack looked down and wiped the counter.

“You gonna get all funky about that?” Rick asked. “About me going away?”

Jack looked up. “Rick, if I can send you off to the Marines and stay standing, I guess I can handle sending you off to college. I put a little something aside for that, you know. We talked about it. I’d like to help.”

“Jack, you don’t have to do that….”

“It’s not a lot, Rick. When I said a little something, little was the operative word. You’ll have the GI Bill, but you also have living expenses.”

“I’m sticking around through summer,” Rick said. “To work, see what I can learn from Paul and gimpy Dan, to stick with Jerry the Spaceman for a while.” He laughed. “That nutcase has some ideas that just fit in the slots, you know? One look at him and you’d never guess it—he’s really such a dork. Toward the end of summer, before school starts, me and Liz are going to find a place of our own in Eureka. She’s got a really good job at that Albertson’s grocery. She thinks she can keep it while she goes to school. She might have to go to part-time if school is hard for her, but you know what? She’s finding out she’s way smarter than she thought she was.” He grinned proudly.

“Settling down?” Jack asked doubtfully.

“This will be it,” Rick said. “We’re moving ahead. We’ll live together now, that’s how it has to be. Living apart isn’t working for us anymore. You have to give us some credit—we waited. We’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Well,” Jack said cautiously, “she is.”

Rick grinned. “She has till the end of August to change her mind.”

“Ricky, buddy, did Liz talk you into this? I know she’s always wanted to—”

“This was my idea, Jack. It’s just better with her. But we’re trying not to move too fast. First we live together and do a year of Redwoods college and next summer we get married.”

“Whoa.”

“We need each other, Jack. I don’t think there’s anyone I counted on more than I did Liz. You, maybe, but you’re just not as soft and cuddly.” He grinned boyishly. Then more seriously, he added, “There’s no point in just finding things to keep me busy while we get older. Besides,” he said, lifting his beer and taking a sip, “when you think about it, we’re not all that young. Maybe in years, but not in experience. Me and Liz, we had to grow up kinda fast. And the only thing that hasn’t worked against us—we never lost interest. We’ve always loved each other. That’s been put to the test a bunch of times.”

Jack was quiet for a minute. Then very solemnly he said, “There’s just one thing that worries me, Rick. You two, you’ve gotten real good at holding each other up during the hard times. How about when there aren’t any hard times? How will you hold up then? Will you take each other for granted? Get bored?”

Rick cracked a big smile and let go a laugh. “Oh man! Please—throw me in that briar patch, huh?”

Jack turned away and pounded on the wall, bringing Preacher out of the kitchen with a pretty confused and interrupted look on his face. “What?” he scowled.

Jack was already drawing a couple of beers. “Rick’s got some plans, Preach. Go ahead, Rick. Lay it on him.”

Rick gave Preacher the condensed version. Unlike Jack, who was known to borrow trouble, especially where relationships were concerned, Preacher just stuck out a big hand. “Good for you, Rick. Congratulations. I think you kids are due a few good breaks.” Jack handed him a beer. “Here’s to you. You and Liz. I’m real happy for you.”

The three of them raised their glasses in a toast.

“Thanks, guys,” Rick said. “I’d never have made it through anything without you.”

“We wouldn’t have made it without you either, buddy,” Jack said. “I’m real happy for you. And I’m real damn proud of you, son.”

Dan Brady had been meeting Cheryl in the park in Old Town Eureka every Sunday for a couple of months and looked forward to every one. Those afternoons became one of the highlights of his week. He took great pride in filling her in on all the Virgin River happenings, and while their lunch together had covered an hour in the early weeks, by the end of June it had stretched to almost three.

They had covered pasts that were difficult to overcome, for both of them. Some of that had to be talked about and put away if they were going to accept each other as friends. But once that was dispensed with, their picnics became an easy three hours, filled with storytelling and laughter and ending with an affectionate peck on the cheek. The kind casual friends gave each other. When he told her about the day he dropped his pants and took off his prosthetic limb to make a point for Rick, left hopping one-legged in the street, she laughed so hard she had tears running down her cheeks, and people in the park were staring.