Page 24 of HEA: Happily Ever After

“You’d be surprised.” I smiled. “Sometimes that’s even more intimidating.”

“Seriously?” Chuckie frowned. “How’s that work?”

I stared down at the tablet, still showing examples of his indoor fireworks. The walls of the room in the video lit up in deep oranges and reds, like the sky at sunset on the ranch where I’d grown up.

The fact that I’d grown up poor, the son of a housekeeper on a big Texas ranch, was public knowledge. My stepfather had given many interviews over the years, talking about our rags-to-riches tale.

But regardless of what Birch was willing to talk about publicly, I never did because the reality was more pathetic than inspirational. The truth was, I’d felt awkward and out of place on the ranch. Not part of the rancher’s family. Not part of the community, either, since I was gay and scrawny and hated football—which was a little like hating Jesus in the town I grew up in. My father, the ranch foreman, hadn’t had much patience for the embarrassment I’d caused just by being myself. It had caused endless fights between my parents, and eventually, he’d taken off and left us without a backward glance.

After he left, my discomfort and shame had simmered to a violent boil, creating a driving passion in me to escape, to build a life with a man I loved—Boone, I imagined, since we’d been dating at the time—where I’d never again feel worry or shame that I was too much or too little to fit in.

One of those dreams had come true, at least. I hadn’t set foot in that part of Texas again.

I cleared my throat. “When your name is on the sign, people have certain expectations, that’s all I meant.”

“Ah.” Chuck tilted his head. “But then you crush their expectations, right? You prove them all wrong for doubting you?”

I smiled at him. Something in this kid reminded me of myself at his age. Maybe it was his awkwardness or his innate belief that he was going somewhere in life. Maybe it was how painfully skinny he was and the big dreams so obvious in his eyes. Or maybe it was the way he wanted to prove everyone wrong about himself.

Either way, I liked him.

And maybe helping him reach his dreams would help me ignore the fact that some dreams simply weren’t meant to come true.

6

HUGH

Hugh

Sounds too good to be true. What’s it called?

Oscar

The Starburst Illuminator. I’m telling you, this kid is ten tons of initiative in a three pound box.

Hugh

Chuckie sounds like someone else I know.

Oscar

You’d better not be talking about Louis, because I don’t want to hear another word about how big his INITIATIVE is.

I let out a soft laugh, trying not to disturb Abby as she dozed beside me on my sofa while Dex and Rafa cleaned up the kitchen after I’d made dinner for everyone. It had been over four months since Abby’s accident, and she’d fully recovered from her injuries long ago, but she’d taken on a second job after school and on weekends to help make a little extra money to put toward her wedding. This meant that when she wasn’t working, she was usually exhausted.

“It’ll all be worth it when I get my dream wedding,” she told me at least twice a week, sounding a bit more manic each time. “I read on Wedding Wonderland that I really need a lighting designer if I’m going to make the most of the luxury tablescapes, and none of that’s cheap. But I’m only getting married once, so it’s got to be perfect, you know?”

I couldn’t really argue with her because I did know. Like me, Abby wanted the hearts-and-flowers fairy tale our parents once had. She wanted to dance with the man she adored while two hundred of their friends and family members bore witness. She wanted to dress up in a puffy white gown and feel like a princess because for so much of our lives, she hadn’t felt important to anyone but me. And while I’d never suggest a five-tier wedding cake or a luxury tablescape was a requirement for anyone, I’d worked enough weddings to know the care and planning that went into making a wedding perfect was a beautiful symbol of commitment; Abby wanted her wedding to be a big deal because the love she and Dex had found was a big deal.

I couldn’t agree more… even if I was a bit worried she was working too hard. I was just grateful she’d made the effort to come into town to celebrate my birthday. And frankly, I couldn’t entirely blame her fatigue for the way she’d fallen asleep immediately after dinner. After the two bottles of wine we’d all shared, I was feeling happily dozy myself.

Oscar

How did your mom’s soup recipe turn out? Did Abby feel pampered on her birthday?

Hugh

Soup was great. But it was my birthday, not hers.

---