Page 1 of Betting Brett

1

Andy

“HolyShit!”Icollapse,gently because my joints aren’t as young as they used to be, on the bare floor of my new living room. “I thought the stairs would be good for me, but now I think I might actually die.”

Brett laughs at me, but he’s a little short of breath, too, so I don’t feel so bad. “If you didn’t have so much crap to move in, it wouldn’t have been so much work,” he says, looking down at me and smiling.

My stomach does the familiar ache and flutter that it’s done every single time Brett has smiled at me for the last fifteen or so years. I’ve had a crush on my best friend longer than I’ve been allowed to drive a car or vote. It’s ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as the fact that he doesn’t have a clue. I’m 99.9 percent sure that he doesn’t even know that I’m gay. Not because I wanted to hide it or because Brett wouldn’t like it, it was mostly because he just didn’t care. Brett was the most ‘happy-go-lucky’, ‘be you’ guy I knew. He was down with anyone doing anything as long as it was safe and consensual, so of course he never really pried into my sex life, and I never pried into his. It helped that I had most of my hook-ups after I moved away.

“C’mon,” Brett reaches down to haul me off the floor. “Let’s get your bed put together so you have someplace to sleep tonight. I’ve got to pick up Isabelle from school in twenty minutes, and you won’t have my brawny muscles to help you anymore.” He mock flexes at me and grins over his shoulder as he heads for the bedroom. I watch his broad shoulders and tight ass walk away from me and give myself a half-hearted lecture about not letting my crush get out of control.

Brett’s even better looking than he was in high school. He has the same short dark hair, and unlike me, his hairline hasn’t started creeping backward yet. He’s six feet even, with shoulders that have actually gotten a bit broader since we played football together and an ass that hasn’t. His face is open and friendly, with a smile most of the time. I think it’s hilarious that he became a sheriff’s deputy. I have a hard time imagining him being all stern and serious with someone who is in trouble.

I hurry into the bedroom, and we get the bedframe put together, and flop the mattress on top of it in short order.

“Thank you, man. I really appreciate you helping me.”

“Of course. What are friends for?” he says. The best part about Brett is that he means it. He really is that good of a guy.

I know I shouldn’t be because he is a great person, but I’m a little worried about him finding out that I’m gay. Now that we live in the same town for the first time since high school, it’s bound to come up. If it were just him to think about, I’d just be worried about his feelings being hurt that I hadn’t clued him in. It’s not just him, though. His parents are very dedicated to the most intolerant, fundamentalist church in town. I can’t think of a scenario where they would be all right with me hanging out with Brett or their granddaughter if they knew I was gay.

Isabelle, Brett’s daughter, is nine years old. He and Jen had her right after high school. She was born about seven months after they were married, and no one even had to guess why they’d decided to tie the knot. The three of us, me, Brett, and Jen, were pretty inseparable in high school, and I knew that while Brett was happy here, Jen wanted to go to college and get out of our hometown. I wasn’t surprised that they got divorced when Isabelle was three and Jen left for college. I’m sure it was hard at the time, but from all appearances, she and Brett have done a fantastic job of co-parenting and figuring things out. Brett has Isabelle most of the time, and Jen spends lots of time with her on the weekends and holidays.

When I started thinking about moving back to Shafter Falls, I’d talked to both Brett and Jen about it, as well as my parents. Jen was particularly glad to hear I was contemplating the move. She thought it would be good for Brett to have more support. She didn’t flat out ask me, but she hinted heavily that she would like him to have someone to watch Isabelle occasionally other than Brett’s mom. I think Brett’s mom, Darlene, treated Jen pretty badly for having the audacity to want something more for herself than being a small-town wife.

Brett was just happy I was going to be around. We’d talked about the fact that my parents were getting to an age where they needed a hand more often, and they were set on staying where they were for the rest of their lives. When I advanced in my career enough that I could choose to work remotely, the move back to Shafter Falls didn’t really take much thought. The only thing I was really going to miss was the plentiful dating that Seattle had to offer. I’d briefly checked out my dating app when I’d pulled into town and had found a surprising number of matches within 50 miles, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

“I’m going to go grab Isabelle,” Brett tells me. “Do you want to come over for dinner? You’re not exactly set up yet.”

“I promised my parents I’d come over to their house tonight. I guess they’re excited to see me or something.” I give him my best smart-ass grin. “I do want to catch up with you and Izzy, though.”

“I swear you’re the only one who gets away with calling her that,” Brett says. “Come over for dinner on Saturday, and we can eat together. You can just suffer through my single Dad cooking.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Thanks again for all the help,” I tell him and wave as he goes out the door. I locate my couch cushions and put them in place before sinking down on them. That actually went really well. I think I may be able to be around my straight best friend and not make a fool of myself.

I pull up my dating app and ask one of the guys I matched with nearby to dinner on Friday. I’m headed to my parent’s house next, and I need to tell them that I have prospects here. They don’t care at all about me being gay, but as far as they’re concerned, it doesn’t get me out of my obligation to give them grandchildren.

Dinner with my parents just reinforces the idea that moving back here was the right move. My mom still makes a wonderful dinner, but she has a few things that she needs my help with, and my dad is happy to let me do the lifting. My parents had me later in life, so even though I’m only twenty-eight, they’re both already in their seventies. I’m grateful that they are both still in good health, and I’m looking forward to being able to spend more time with them while I have the chance. The older I get, the shorter I realize life is. It’s too short to be far away from the people you love.

2

Brett

Iamsogladthat Andy is back in Shafter Falls. I was even thrilled to be packing his heavy ass couch up the stairs to his new apartment. We were best friends all the way through school, and even though I always knew that he was going, his leaving for college left a giant hole in my life. When Jen left a few years later to have her own college experience, the other member of our tight trio was gone. It’s funny that I always thought of it that way, even after Jen and I had Isabelle and got married. The three of us were always so close, so much so that I floundered a little bit with both of them gone. Andy was always there to listen on the phone, and he did come back to visit fairly often. Jen, I see her almost every weekend, but a lot of her time with Isabelle is one-on-one, as it should be.

I have awesome friends at work, but somehow, with all of our adult lives, I’ve never gotten quite as close to them as I am to Andy and Jen. I’m so thrilled that he’s back to stay that I find myself singing as I make dinner. My daughter, who is doing her homework at the kitchen table, looks at me with the skepticism and suspicion that only a fourth grader can muster.

“Why are you singing, Dad?”

“What do you mean, Izzy?” I say teasingly. “I sing all the time.”

“But not when you’re cooking, you don’t like making dinner,” she says seriously, “and you can’t call me Izzy.”

“I’m singing because I’m happy that Uncle Andy moved back. He got here today, and I’m really glad that we get to see him more. He calls you Izzy, why can’t I?”

“I forgot he was moving back today!” she says, obviously excited. “When do I get to see him?”

“He’s coming over for dinner Saturday,” I tell her, “and I just decided that I’m going to order pizza to celebrate. Then no one has to cook.”

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