Page 128 of Beautiful Thing

After some cuddle time with Sky, Grandma Dory declares that she’s tired. We help her back to her room, give each other some extra long, teary hugs, and I continue to thank her profusely.

I am still in a daze when I get home to Archer later in the evening. I carry Sky into the house, gently laying him in his crib since he fell asleep in his carseat on the way home.

Then I walk back into the living room where Archer is already bringing our bags in from the car without me even having to ask.

I stare blankly out the window into the snowy forest beyond, all the way to the warm white back porch lights glowing through the copse of trees a few houses down.

That’s my house now. Mine.

I feel like I’m floating, outside of my body. Things like this don’t happen to me.Good thingsjust don’t happen to me.

Archer approaches, coming to stand next to me. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

I nod, but it feels more like a wobble.

I turn and face him fully. “I…I…I’m now a homeowner.”

52

ARCHER

Another one of my brothers is now a married man.

It’s a small, intimate wedding, just as Felix’s bride wanted.We all stand on the edge of the magical waterfall where Rainbow just finished officiating the ceremony. Then we let the bride and groom jovially lead the way as everyone trudges through the forest, back to the family ranch, our winter boots crunching the snow beneath our feet.

Lately, I’ve been a bit of a bitter jerkwad about love and all that stuff. But even I have to admit that it’s hard to be an asshat today. I’m happy for them. I like Daphne. She’s good for Felix. She’ll keep him grounded, and I trust that they’ll give each other the happy ever after they both deserve.

The wedding reception is happening here in the extravagantly decorated front yard of my parents’s house. Mom and the rest of the girls went overboard, transforming the lawn of my childhood home into a winter wonderland.They really did an impressive job.

There’s a large white tent overhead—Mom and Dad’s contribution to the event—as well as space heaters—my contribution—strategically placed all over the yard to keep theguests warm in the late February evening. Flowers and lights are strung up everywhere, twinkling against the darkening sky.

Heavy jackets get taken off and boots get swapped out for fancy shoes. There’s cake and drinks and far too many townsfolk crowding the yard right now. Everyone seems to be having fun.

My brother and his new wife take a brief moment to mingle with their crowd of well-wishers. Then they head to the dance floor, getting swept up in each other as they twirl around, lost in their own world. The DJ is playing some fairly decent music, too. Only a few of the corny, cliché tunes so far.

I sip on a beer, watching Sky boogie on the dance floor with Stella and my mom. He looks so damn cute out there, wiggling and bouncing around to the music. It’s already past his bedtime, so I know he’ll be crashing soon. The little guy is always the funniest when he hits the point of exhaustion.

My eyes find Layla on the other side of the yard, and I take a long drink of my beer. Damn, she looks pretty. And she’s too fucking far away. It’s taking all of my self-control not to go over to her and pull her up against my side.

We’re supposed to be wedding dates tonight. But we’re not doing the best job of keeping up appearances. We’ve been pretty distant all day.

I’m trying to not make it obvious, but that’s difficult while I’m also mentally preparing myself to let her go as soon as this is all over.

She has her own house now. It’s a sweet twist of fate that she is now the legal proprietor of the very home Razor kicked her out of. That’s karma in action right there. The bitch slap from the universe couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

And while I’m happy that she has something to call her own, the whole situation feels like a punch to the gut for me. I’d been hoping I could convince her to stay. But now, she’s about to be ripped out of my life.

When I finish my beer, I grab another. I’m finding that the drinks help some. The sting of Layla leaving doesn’t quite sting as much with alcohol running through my blood.

I’m not okay with it. I never will be. But I’m trying. I’m trying to appear like everything is fine.

I bullshit with the guys while working on my next beer. Then, someone announces that it’s time for the bouquet toss. I stand off to the side and watch as Layla’s friends thrust her into the semi-circle of eager single women, pushing and shoving each other in hopes of catching the bride’s flowers today.

Daphne flings the peach bouquet over her shoulder. The thing sails right into Layla’s arms with zero effort on her part. I watch as Layla throws her head back, laughing and holding the flowers high over her head.

To her, this is probably just some big joke, a silly superstition that means nothing. But to me, it means something. I’m wondering if it’s a message from the universe. Maybe?

I can’t help but wish that the damn bouquet tradition was more than just an old wives’ tale.I’d marry Layla right this minute, if she’d let me. The problem is, she doesn’t want me.

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