Different Circles

It turned out that Joey’s house was not that far from the airport. He and his family lived in north Pocatello, in a well-established neighborhood full of postwar single stories on decent sized lots. Most of the lawns were covered in snow with shoveled walkways and there were small berms built up in the gutters where the plows had pushed it. Best Manor was on a corner lot and therefore had a bit more land to play with than most of the other houses. The structure itself was quite small by Jake’s standards—even his pre-fortune and fame standards—with peeling gray paint and a roof that looked like it could use some major repairs. An old Ford F-150 4x4 that had undoubtedly been built during the Carter administration was parked at the curb and a Reagan era Ford Bronco was in the driveway. Both were covered in road grime and had rust spots in various places. A boat on a trailer that was covered with canvas tarping sat next to the Bronco, leaving just enough room for one more vehicle to fit.

“This is the place,” Jake said, spotting the address numbers next to the garage door.

“Looks like it,” Laura agreed. “Pull into the driveway.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. He had been brought up to believe it rude to park in someone’s driveway unless specifically directed to do so.

“I’m sure,” she said. “In our family, guests always park in the driveway.”

“Okay then,” he said doubtfully. He wheeled in and put the vehicle in park and then set the parking brake. He took a deep breath. He was a little nervous about meeting Laura’s family for a reason he could not quite put his finger on. It was a little like stage fright before a show, but without the anticipation of the dopamine and endorphin release that would follow.

They stepped out onto the driveway and headed along the recently shoveled walkway, their breath puffing out visibly in the cold air. The front porch had a mat that featured two angels playing horns on either side of the words “WELCOME FRIENDS”. The mat appeared to be at least as old as the Bronco.

“I’m a little nervous about this,” Laura said as they stood in front of the door.

“Yeah,” Jake said. “Me too.”

She smiled at him and then knocked gently on the door. The sound of footsteps from within appeared and then grew louder. The doorknob turned and the door opened, letting a blast of warm air from inside wash over them. Standing in the doorway was what Jake assumed was Laura’s brother, though he looked nothing like what Jake had been anticipating. He had expected a clean-cut, serious-looking man, probably balding, probably wearing a white dress shirt and dark pants. Instead, he found a stocky man, about four inches shorter than himself, with a thick mop of light brown hair, an unruly mustache, and a carelessly trimmed goatee. He was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans and a loose-fitting pullover shirt that was stretched a little tight over a moderate-sized beer belly. He looked at the two of them, his expression one of nervousness as well.

“Joey?” Laura asked questioningly. “Is that really you?”

A smile formed on his face. “Little Bit,” he said, using a nickname for her that she had not heard in many years. “Yeah, it’s really me. A little older and fatter than you remember, huh?”

“Oh my God,” she said. “It’s so good to see you again!” She held her arms out to him. He stepped to her and they embraced warmly, holding the hug for a considerable amount of time. When they finally broke apart, Laura had tears running down her face and Joe II looked like he was desperately trying to keep his own tears in check.

Once she had herself under control, she introduced Jake. “This is my husband, Jake. Jake, Joey.”

Jake shook hands with him. Joey’s grip was good, strong, but not overwhelming. “It’s nice to meet you,” Jake told him.

“Likewise,” Joey said. “I’m so glad the two of you were able to come visit.”

“Me too,” Jake lied, though he did it smoothly and professionally.

“Come in, come in,” Joey offered, waving them to the door. “Meet the rest of the family.”

“Sure,” Jake said. “Is our stuff safe out in the car for now?”

“It’s safe,” Joey assured him. “This is a good neighborhood. Probably not like where you two live, but safe all the same.”

“We don’t actually live in a neighborhood,” Laura told him as they entered the front door. “We live on top of a hill all by ourselves.”

“No kidding?” he said, seemingly impressed by this notion. “It must be nice.”

“It really is,” Laura said.

“Although we do spend a lot of time living in hotel rooms as well,” Jake pointed out.

“Yeah,” Laura said sourly. “Especially this last year.”