Page 16 of The Lonely Hearts Guide

“If you want a boyfriend, my nephew is single,” Princess added, placing her hand on top of Mrs. Peppercorn’s. “And my, oh my, he’s ready to mingle.”

Mrs. Peppercorn groaned, removing her hand from the pile. “Like your sweet potato pie, your ability to read a room leaves much to be desired.”

“And much like your wig . . . Actually, no. I don’t have a comeback. I thought I did. Silly me figuring it would come to me as I was talking, but that didn’t happen.” With a huff, Princess folded her arms across her chest and pouted.

“You can stay with me, dear,” Mrs. Peppercorn said. “I’d love to have you.” Elliot looked at Periwinkle who was practically hopping in his seat.

“Yes!” Periwinkle exclaimed. “Yes, to that idea. Oh, Elliot, you’ll love it. She makes the best milky tea in Genevieve—”

“She what?” Arthur interrupted, arching an accusatory eyebrow, which in turn caused the color to drain from Periwinkle’s face.

“Aside from you!” Periwinkle shouted, bolting up from his chair and sitting on his husband’s lap. “Oh, Arthur. Your milky tea is the best milky tea in the world. I wasn’t thinking.” Periwinkle’s apologetic expression faded, making room for a look Elliot had only seen a handful of times. Elliot braced for impact. “I am only human, Arthur. I mean, not an actual human, but I’m made in their likeness. We both know I’m bound to fumble along the way, and how dare you scold me for it?”

“I wasn’t scolding anything,” Arthur insisted with a smile. “I was just saying my tea is the best tea.” Arthur traced Periwinkle’s jaw. “I promise, baby, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“Arthur,” Periwinkle whined, burying his face in Arthur’s neck.

Elliot looked at Mrs. Peppercorn. “Are they like this very often?”

Mrs. Peppercorn sighed as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. “Endlessly. It’s cute, but it can be a bit much at times.” She reached over and squeezed Elliot’s hand. “I mean it, sugar. I would be so happy to have you stay with me. It gets lonely around the house, and I’d love the company.”

Elliot’s jaw trembled. “You’re sure?”

“Surer than sunrise, baby.”

Half an hour later—once the tea was drunk and all the cookies devoured, Mrs. Peppercorn announced she wanted to take Elliot to see his new dwelling. Elliot wasn’t aware it would take Mrs. Peppercorn an additional five minutes to say her goodbyes, so he walked toward the narrow staircase leading down to the library, pausing when something caught his eye. There was a brochure on the small table where Periwinkle and Arthur kept their mail keys. When he picked up the brochure, his heart skipped a beat. It was an invitation from Mother. An all-expenses paid bountiful beaus booze cruise, whatever that meant. Next to the brochure was a handwritten card inviting Arthur and Periwinkle. An olive branch, perhaps. Elliot had heard from Jared that when Periwinkle and Arthur were separated and Periwinkle needed to move home with Mother, Periwinkle gave Mother a dressing down in front of God and everyone.

Periwinkle squeezed Elliot’s shoulder, then traced his finger against the card. “A peace offering, I think.” Periwinkle huffed out a sharp breath. “She can save it for someone who wishes for peace.” He grabbed the card and quickly ripped it in half. “I want nothing but time and distance from her.”

Elliot wasn’t sure if Periwinkle said anything after that, as his focus was elsewhere, his attention undivided from the brochure. On the cover, there was an old photograph from the first wave of i-Series beaus, with Elliot at Mother’s side. He flipped through the brochure, studying image after image of other beaus and their suitors. In one photograph, Arthur stood next to Periwinkle, while Elliot and Jared were on the right. The sight of the man who was his tormentor for so very long sent a wave of dread crashing inside him.

But then Elliot saw him.

He knew that face.

Elliot knew he knew the man, but he didn’t know how. He smiled at the picture, though. He smiled bigger and brighter than he ever had, and a chorus ofhome-home-homeplayed out in his mind. His eyes were misty, but Elliot didn’t think the tears forming were sad ones. Considering the lights flickering in his eyes were pink, they must have been happy tears. The man—whoever he was—had been a shadow character in Elliot’s mind for so long. He was the missing puzzle piece that got removed and was patched over with cake frosting, but it was still there, deep, deep down.

“Mr. Alexander Davenport of Dallas, Texas,” Periwinkle said at his side, and that was all it took. Elliot shattered, and all the hurt and hope crashed together, pouring out, down his cheeks and onto the floor. As Periwinkle tried to console him, Elliot slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out his cookie. It felt like the right time.

“Alexander,” Elliot whispered, trying the name on for size. God, it felt so right. Like it fit Elliot perfectly. As if Alexander was made just for him. He unwrapped the cellophane from the cookie and smiled at the picture, taking the first bite of food he could ever remember taking. The taste was familiar, which was strange, because Elliot couldn’t remember a time when he tasted it before. Aside from drinks, he never tasted anything at all. However it happened, Elliot knew the flavor by heart. A warm and cozy ocean view on a dark and foggy night. That’s what it tasted like. Like home.

“He’s such a sweetheart,” Periwinkle said. “I stumbled and fell at my cotillion, and he scooped me up and eased my nerves. After Jared ordered Mother to confiscate me from Arthur and take me back to New Orleans, Alexander offered to purchase me and give me a happy life.” Elliot tore his eyes away from the picture of Alexander in time to see Periwinkle gaze contentedly at his husband. “My heart’s only ever beat for Arthur, though.”

“Will he be attending this cruise?” Elliot lifted the brochure, wanting to see Alexander even closer. His dark brown hair was parted to the side. Freckles peppered his cheeks, some big, some small. And that smile. That smile would be the death of Elliot, he just knew it.

Periwinkle shrugged. “I’m not sure. I can call and ask.”

Elliot’s eyes bulged and it felt as if ants were tiptoeing through inside his stomach, making him twitch and giggle like a lovesick teenager in some movies he’d seen. “You have his number? You know how to contact him?”

“Indeed, I do. Oh, Elliot, he’s such a sweetheart. You’d love him. His first bountiful beau ran away with one of our brothers. Apparently, they inadvertently bonded when they were still living with Mother. Doug and—”

“Gus!” Elliot exclaimed, nodding his head at a rapid pace. He remembered. He didn’t remember everything, but he remembered some. Alexander. Plum jam cookies. A little fieldmouse. And Gus, apparently. Gus who cut his own arm open to remove his tracking chip. Gus who had inadvertently inspired Elliot’s escape because his was the story Elliot remembered. His was the life Elliot never would have thrown away. Elliot lifted his arm for Periwinkle to see. “He cut out his tracking chip just to find true love.” His jaw trembled.

“Is that what the bandage is for?” Periwinkle’s eyes widened. “You cut out your chip?”

“Yes. I didn’t know why at the time, but somewhere inside me I remembered that story. It’s . . . Periwinkle, it’s like there are bits of my memory I can’t get back. Like they were cut out and someone’s put cake frosting in their place.”

Periwinkle’s face dropped. “Oh, Elliot.” He squeezed Elliot’s shoulder and leaned closer, eyes narrowed as he studied Elliot’s face.

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