Page 23 of The Heartstrings of Harry
His jeans were tight and hugged his ass.
It was impossible not to tear my eyes away from that firm young bubble butt until I stepped into the back room and Andy’s decorations stole my attention.
“Oh wow. Toilet paper.”
“I like to think of them as multipurpose streamers,” Andy corrected as my eyes scanned the trails of toilet paper that had been looped around the curtain rods and draped down from the light fittings. On the table where we usually played poker were chip bowls containing the no-doubt stale remnants of the previous night’s snacks, only now the bowls were wrapped in red and silver tinsel, even though Christmas was half a year away. And sitting beside the pretzels was something wrapped in old newspaper and tape.
“It’s a present. Sort of,” Andy said to me. “Go on then, open it.”
“It’s not a dead fish, is it? It looks like it might be a dead fish wrapped in newspaper.”
Dean snorted. “It’s not a dead fish.”
“Good.” I grinned back at him.
“Don’t get too excited, though. You haven’t seen what it is yet. You might hate it.”
I picked up the parcel and pulled away the newspaper to see a signed publicity photo of Dean inside an old picture frame.
“Please know this wasnotmy idea,” Dean cringed.
“Oh, don’t be precious,” Andy told him, opening beers for me and him and fixing a tequila for Dean. “It’s a great birthday gift. Do you know why? Because one day when you’re bigger than Elvis, that right there is gonna be worth a fortune.” He handed me my beer. “You like it, right Harry? I mean, so what if I didn’t go to any huge effort, right?”
“Dad, you didn’t go toanyeffort at all. You saw I had the publicity shots in my backpack, then pulled an old fishing photo off the wall and switched the pictures out.”
Andy wobbled his head at Dean. “Well of course I switched the pictures out. Nobody’s gonna pay a fortune for that photo of me pulling a fifteen-pounder out of the river, although Upstream Magazine did pay me a nice fat hundred-dollar check to use it on their front cover. But enough about me and my fishing expertise. The point is, Harry’s not just holding a photo of you; he’s holding stardom in his hands, and that’s gonna be worth something someday.” He handed Dean a glass of tequila. “Maybe when Harry cashes that photo in, he can chip in for your next bottle of fancy booze.”
“You know you didn’t have to buy this for me,” Dean said, holding up his glass.
“I know. But you mentioned you liked it over the phone, and I wanted to make you happy. Just like I wanted to make Harry happy with his birthday present.”
The pair of them had pretty much been ignoring me while they teased each other back and forth, while I stared at the framed photo in my hands, entranced.
“I’m not sure he likes it at all,” Dean commented when he saw me gazing at the picture. “I think he’s in shock. You know, you don’t have to be polite and accept it. If you hate it, I totally understand. It’s a terrible photo of me anyway—”
“I like it,” I told him. I wanted to tell him Ilovedit, but instead I said, “It’s a great photo of you.”
“You like it?” Dean sounded surprised.
I nodded. “Sure, I do.” I suddenly realized I sounded way too serious, even a little moved by the gift. I quickly shifted the tone. “And I’m gonna like it even more when it’s worth a million bucks.”
Dean laughed. “I wouldn’t hold your breath for that kinda paydirt. But if you don’t totally hate it, then Happy Birthday.”
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Andy raised his beer, then almost polished off the entire bottle in a single gulp.
“Did I hear Happy Birthday?” called a voice from the front doorway, which we’d left open when I arrived.
Andy quickly wiped a dribble of beer from his bottom lip and called out, “Madeline? Come on in, we’re out in the back room.”
I glanced at Andy and said quietly, “I thought you weren’t going to make a big deal of this.”
Andy pointed to the gift he’d given me and laughed. “I didn’t.”
“I mean, I thought it was just going to be the three of—”
“Madeline!” Andy beamed as she entered the room, a bottle of wine in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other.
“Hi, guys!” She hugged Andy and handed him the wine. “I brought chardonnay. Don’t hate me, but I think I drank way too much beer last night. I thought I woke up in a brewery in Milwaukee.”
