Page 7 of Throuple Next Door

“They’re done?” Randy asked.

“Yeah. I read online that it was customary to tip the movers, so I did and made a note of it so we can adjust the costs.” He pulled open the refrigerator and handed Randy a bottle of water, taking one for himself. Ever the caretaker, Austin anticipated what he wanted. “A couple of neighbors were outside while I was seeing them off, and I gave them my cell number. They said they’d add it to the neighborhood chat.”

“Excellent.” It was his job to see to it that everyone was happy. Weaver had always been the peacekeeper, but Randy was the leader, the problem-solver, a man of action. It was his job to blaze the way, and he always felt like he had to make sure that they had what they needed.

“The family room is done, so we can watch TV if we want. I also got the boxes redistributed where they belong. I found some that go in the basement and carried them down.”

Weaver’s phone rang as he joined them, and he pulled it out.

“Is it them?”

Weaver nodded, and Austin shifted closer to him. Randy took his hand, knowing that Austin wanted this for Weaver almost as much as Weaver wanted it. “No matter what happens, everything is going to be cool.” Austin squeezed his hand, and Randy waited as Weaver listened, nodding and then finally smiling that bright smile that Randy had fallen in love with the first time he saw him enter one of his gyms.

“Did you get it?” Austin asked quietly, and Weaver smiled.

“Full-time, permanent,” he mouthed back.

“Go to my office,” Randy told him, and Weaver nodded and headed for the stairs.

Austin turned to him, smiling, but Randy knew it was his nervous grin. He usually wasn’t the most attentive of men when it came to everyone else’s emotions. They sometimes went right over Randy’s head. It wasn’t one of his strong suits, but even he could see that Austin was nervous—it practically washed over him. Austin needed to find a place for himself, and as much as he hated it, Randy didn’t know what to do to fix it, which totally sucked.

Chapter Four

The walls were closing in, and Austin had no idea how to stop it. After their call on Monday, the law school sent Weaver a contract, and he had been spending quite a bit of his time at the law school, working through details and getting himself oriented. Apparently, once they made a decision, they moved quickly. Randy was at the college most days, either in meetings or working on his preparations for his fall classes.

Austin was happy for both of them, but he was also at complete loose ends. He had already unpacked all the boxes, hung the pictures, and set up the porch. He’d even made sure that Randy’s office was clean and had ordered the things for Weaver’s home office. Basically, he had spent enough time indoors that he was beginning to go as little stir-crazy. What he really needed was a job of some sort, something to occupy his time and make him feel like he was contributing.

The years of modeling had left him fairly well off. He’d always lived as frugally as he could, even in New York, and he’d saved quite a bit of money from his golden years. But that wasn’t the issue. He knew that Weaver and Randy loved him, but he also knew they saw him as the member of the family they needed to look out for, the one who needed care and their protection. And maybe that was true, especially after the crap he’d been through. It was nice to know that his men had his back, but he didn’t like to think of himself as someone who needed it—more like someone who wanted their support. He was a man, after all, and that meant that he had to make his own way…. The shit thing was that he had no clue what that direction was, especially in a town twenty miles west of Harrisburg and nowhere near the kind of locations where he could get any kind of work. Not that it would make that much of a difference. Austin had to face the truth: he was getting too old to be a real force in modeling any longer. There were plenty of guys who were younger, thinner, and willing to do just about anything to get ahead.

He headed to the back of the house, flopped down on the sofa, and turned on Weaver’s big-ass television. After logging into Netflix, he found a cooking series and settled in to watch Chef’s Table, hoping for some ideas. He made it halfway through the episode before turning it off. This wasn’t helping him, and neither was the urge to go to the kitchen, grab a bag of Cheetos, and finish the damned thing off. Stress-eating was his absolute nemesis.

The doorbell sounded, and he was grateful for the distraction, even if it might only be the UPS guy needing a signature. He hurried to the front. “Hey, Andrew,” Austin said, glad for the company, even if it was for a few minutes.

“Dominic and I are hosting the weekly neighborhood get-together this Friday evening. It starts at seven, and all of you are welcome to come on over. Bring a bottle of wine, maybe some munchies, and join us.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” Austin said.

“How are you all settling in?” Andrew asked.

“Pretty well, I think.”

“If you need anything be sure to let us know. We have tools and professionals who will show up and complete the work.”

“Thanks. I’m coming to the end of the unpacking. Weaver got a position at the law school, and Randy is off at the college….” He sighed, stopping himself before he could complain. “I’m still trying to figure things out.” That sounded pretty good, he thought.

“I understand. I completely changed job directions about fifteen years ago, and it took some getting used to.” His smile was genuine. “Give yourself a little time, and don’t put a bunch of pressure on yourself.”

“I suppose.” That had not been a reaction he expected. “But I have to find something. I was thinking about starting some sort of business, but I have no idea what kind.”

“You were a fashion model, right?” Andrew blushed a little. “I looked you up on Instagram. If you want to stay within that sort of area, then maybe clothing. Carlisle is a smaller town, but there’s Mechanicsburg and Camp Hill as well as Harrisburg, and if we want anything really fashionable, we have to go to New York or Philadelphia. Either that or shop online, and I don’t know about you, but half of what I buy goes back because it doesn’t fit. Large, extra-large… there’s no consistency.” Andrew snapped his fingers. “Maybe become a fashion design consultant. You could help with various aspects of design and clothing, sort of a local lifestyle helper.”

Austin wasn’t sure if that was what he wanted, but he appreciated Andrew’s suggestions. “Like I said, I have to think about it and figure stuff out. But I’d like to stick with something in fashion. It’s what I really know.”

Andrew nodded. “I should let you get back to your unpacking. I need to return to my latest story, but I hope to see all of you on Friday.” He smiled and then turned, stepping off the porch as Austin closed the front door. Maybe there was something to what Andrew had suggested, but Austin needed to figure it out.

“You should do it,” Weaver said as soon as Austin told him about the fashion idea once he got home from the law school. “It would play to your strengths. I bet there isn’t anyone in town with your kind of knowledge, and the only nicer clothing store I see here is for brides.” He really did think this was a good idea. “Have you told Randy?”

“No. And I don’t really want to yet because I don’t know if there’s anything in it. It sounds good, but who is going to hire me or pay high-fashion prices for clothes here?” It sounded like Austin was already discounting the notion, and Weaver hated that. It was what he always did—downplaying his talents and gifts. Austin had so many, but he never seemed to see them himself.

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