Page 74 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

Alexander smiled, unable to remember a moment of his life when he was happier than he was right then. He stood, his heart swelling as he followed Elliot into the kitchen. The room was already an explosion of color, filled with balloons and streamers in every shade of the rainbow. There was even a banner reading, “Happy Birthday, Honey!” stretched across one wall. The only thing that would have made the moment better would be if Honey was there with them. Alexander’s mother offered to watch her for the night to give the men some time to themselves and prepare for the party. It was Honey’s first night away from home, and both men spent most of the time worried sick about not having her out of sight.

Elliot handed Alexander a stack of plates with little pink hearts scattered across. “Can you set these on the table?” he asked, his voice warm and affectionate.

“Of course,” Alexander replied, taking the plates and arranging them neatly on top. Elliot had already pulled the table apart and placed the extension leaf in the center, covering it with a pink tablecloth with little H’s peppering the fabric. Elliot stitched each “H” himself. He spent weeks getting it just right. Though Alexander offered to help, and Elliot had allowed it, he quickly changed his tune when he saw Alexander’s lackluster first attempt. Alexander couldn’t say he blamed him. Alexander was quickly stripped of his title as embroiderer, relegated to simple tasks such as filling balloons and arranging cheese trays.

He glanced at the array of food items waiting to be set out—tiny sandwiches, fruit platters, and a multi-tiered cake Elliot had poured his whole heart into. The guests would love it. When the kitchen was finally decorated, they moved to the living room, where Elliot had set up a play area with a rainbow pride flag set down as a rug, placing various toys across the fabric. Alexander tidied the living room, making it presentable for the guests while Elliot arranged goody bags for party guests. They worked in comfortable silence, just as they did every day. It was one of Alexander’s favorite things about Elliot. As an introvert, Alexander needed time to recharge his social battery, and Elliot never pushed him to fill that silence with idle chit chat. He allowed them to simply exist in the quiet, side by side. Once the lunch platters were set out, they set their focus on decorating the living room.

“Can you pass me that streamer?” Elliot asked, pointing to a roll of pink paper on the coffee table. Alexander watched as Elliot strung the paper from a light fixture, softly humming to himself. With the room decorated, the men stepped back, taking in the sight of the room. Elliot’s hand found Alexander’s and squeezed. “Thank you for helping me.” Elliot rested his head against Alexander’s shoulder. “Thank you for everything. I still can’t believe any of this is real.”

Alexander tilted his head and kissed Elliot’s scalp. “Neither can I.” The clock above their entertainment center told Alexander they had thirty minutes left until the partygoers arrived. His hand slipped down Elliot’s back until it was resting on his backside, squeezing gently. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

Elliot nibbled his bottom lip, and when Alexander looked down, he could see the telltale signs of an erection forming in his husband’s shorts. “We can do that.”

Alexander licked his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll need to be quick, though.”

Twenty minutes later, with flushed cheeks and sweat pouring down their faces, Alexander and Elliot rushed downstairs, still buttoning their clothes when the doorbell rang. Pausing at the door, the men gave each other a one-over, Elliot fixing Alexander’s hair, Alexander wiping residual semen from Elliot’s chin and licking his finger clean.

“Are you ready?”

Elliot nodded, then opened the door. On the other side of the door, Alexander’s mother was holding Honey, affectionately tweaking her nose.

Alexander’s mother handed Honey to him, and Honey smiled at her father before lifting a toy dinosaur and poking him in the cheek with its tail. He snorted a laugh and opened his mouth, playfully nibbling on the toy’s tail, making Honey cackle. It was at that moment Alexander realized just how much he missed her. Both she and Elliot breathed life into Alexander’s singular existence.

He always thought love wasn’t in the cards for him. How wrong he’d been.

Waves of pink light flooded Honey’s eyes. “Papa.”

Alexander’s jaw trembled, just as it always did when she said it. She started talking a month earlier, though she only ever said Dad, Papa, and No!

“Papa missed you, baby girl,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. He looked over at Elliot, who was observing them fondly. He slacked his knees to lower himself so they were eye level, giving Elliot the chance to land a few kisses of his own. As Alexander and Elliot fawned over their little girl, Twylah walked the room, praising them for their decorating skills.

An hour later, the small cottage was alive with merriment. Mrs. Peppercorn had come to share in the celebration, as had Periwinkle and Arthur, who, as they explained, were now living in New Orleans, helping Mrs. Peppercorn care for the home and all the bountiful beaus living there. She made a decision to house them indefinitely, refusing to send “her boys” to unhappy homes. Periwinkle mentioned she would often spend hours in the supermarket, seeking out potential love interests for her beaus. Men who would treat them right. Men who would love her boys with their whole hearts. She wouldn’t sell them, Periwinkle had explained, but she would allow courtship, and—if the beau in question wished to progress things—she would let them go, threatening the lives of their future husbands, should they lift a finger to them. Periwinkle attempted to discuss a plan he had for rescuing beaus who had already been sent to unhappy homes, but Arthur interrupted, handing their new child over, a little boy named Funshine Bear Price—the most ridiculous name Alexander had ever heard—and sighing, telling Periwinkle the baby needed changing again, his eyes pleading.

“Absolutely not,” Periwinkle said firmly. “You know I have an aversion to bodily fluids.” Arthur sighed and nodded, but Periwinkle gently wrapped his hand around Arthur’s wrist. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it up to you tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully before pausing, his face going serious. “With sex, Arthur. I will make up for it with sex.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, his cheeks burning a lovely shade of crimson. whirling around, he quickly exited the room and headed toward the bathroom.

Periwinkle smiled at them. “I don’t actually have an aversion to bodily fluids, I just like to tease Arthur.” Periwinkle kissed his fingertip and pressed it gently to Honey’s nose. “She’s precious. She looks just like you, Elliot.” He leaned closer until he was nose to nose with the baby. “And quite a bit like you, too, Alexander, though I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

Honey Peppercorn poked Periwinkle in the cheek.

He poked her back.

It was cute.

An hour later, as the children played, Elliot and Periwinkle sat on opposite sides of the rug. Mrs. Peppercorn was explaining to Alexander that she had made great progress in the automaton rights community. Still masquerading as Ms. Broussard, she’d been on several news outlets, demanding full bodily autonomy for nonhumans. The movement was gaining momentum, but the other automaton homes were dragging their feet, refusing to catch up with the times. They’d get there, Alexander thought. One day, automatons would be free people, able to make decisions for themselves, and to chart their own destinies.

In total, twelve adults and seven children came to celebrate Honey’s birthday. There were gifts and treats, and a home overflowing with love and laughter. Through it all, as Alexander watched him absentmindedly, the smile never left Elliot’s face.

Elliot would catch Alexander watching from time to time, his face flushing with color before quickly looking away. The fact Alexander could still make him blush with nothing more than a stolen glance always made his heart flutter faster.

An hour into the party, there was a knock at the door. Alexander and Elliot walked hand in hand, sharing a gentle kiss before opening the door.

On the other side of the door, a frazzled Beau Rivera shifted nervously on his feet, looking panicked. The former mayor of Genevieve, Georgia, had always been a picture of coolness and collectedness, but his eyes darted all around, and his breath came in quick bursts.

“Alexander, I need your help,” Beau said, his voice urgent. He looked over his shoulder toward a tall oak tree in their front yard. “It’s okay. I promise, you’re safe.”

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