Page 141 of Mr. Picture Perfect
Bobby stands up suddenly, interrupting their back-and-forth. “Yeah, I’m gonna go ask her,” he decides, then marches off toward the porch. Jimmy snorts with laughter, thinking he’s joking, then turns serious when he realizes Bobby isn’t stopping. “Hey, wait,” calls out Jimmy, launching himself from his lounge chair, “it ain’t a big deal! My mama didn’t tell me you were proposin’, I swear!”
After Jimmy and Bobby’s departure, Hoyt spots Harrison, who appears to have finally finished up his work on Gary’s farm, and hops up to greet him. I watch as the two join each other for a bold and unabashed kiss. I’m still close enough to hear Hoyt say, “Hey, no matter what anyone says, I never asked for anyone’s approval to be with you. You’re mine. I’m yours. And that’s that. Got it?” A somewhat perplexed Harrison slowly nods, says, “I’m just starved and need to get some food in me, pronto. I don’t know what you’re goin’ on about.” Hoyt winces, says, “Never mind,” then the two take off toward the covered grill area, where Mr. Paul Strong and Mr. William Tucker, owner of Biggie’s Bites and Billy’s father, are busy filling the air with the smoked aroma of tasty grilled meats.
That leaves me alone by the pool, still patiently waiting on my own man to arrive. I pull out my phone to check, then frown when there’s still no word from him. Did he fall asleep in the foam-block pit of the gymnastics area? Should I go dig him out?
“I’m sure he’ll get here soon,” says TJ, who finds me sitting by the pool by myself and ropes me into a walk along the back trails behind the house.
“He’s got more responsibilities now,” I point out, “after Jimmy promoted him into a management position.”
“He totally deserved it. Cole’s built for management, like he’s got ‘management material’ written on his forehead.”
I spot several guys playing some form of flag football in the field, likely members of Tanner’s high school football team. He’s an amazingly inclusive and engaging coach, always inviting his team over for their big holiday get-togethers—though it usually comes with strings attached, as the athletes are roped into helping carry heavy stuff and assisting with the setup process.
Strangely, there’s been little sign of Tanner himself anywhere, nor his husband Billy, despite their kids playing in the house.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t read too much into it,” says TJ with a pat on my shoulder when I happen to mention it. “You know … when you have been together as long as they have, the love doesn’t look the same as it used to from our perspective. Know what I mean? The honeymoon phase wears off. You start seeing each other less as lovers and more as partners, working together, compromising. And they’ve got those sweet kids they adopted, too, and they don’t want to let them down. They’re trying to give those kids the best life that they can. Meanwhile, Tanner’s got his work over at the school. Billy’s keeping up with T&S’s. Sometimes, it’s all they can do to find time for themselves. I guess that’s married life for you.”
The guys in the field cheer when someone scores. They jump on top of each other, laughing and shouting, their voices carrying over the grass and echoing everywhere.
“Oh, shit, you look sad suddenly,” says TJ, coming to a stop. “Did I say something wrong? Look, ignore all of that, ignore all of that crap I just rambled on about. I’m taking psychology courses. I keep spouting off. My friends at school get annoyed with me, too.”
“No, it’s okay,” I assure him distractedly.
“You don’t look okay.”
“Really, I’m fine.”Why isn’t Cole here yet?“I was just … I think I was just sitting by the pool for too long in the sun, listening to Jimmy talk about how Bobby’s big proposal might have secretly gotten spoiled by Nadine, and then how the Evanses don’t accept Robby as Vanessa’s boyfriend no matter what he does to prove himself, and how Hoyt keeps looking over his shoulder, likely wondering if people don’t truly approve of his relationship with Harrison, even after they’ve been together for a year … and it … it really makes me wonder … whether anything … is actually as good as it seems … or if there’s always a dark underbelly ofdoom…”
TJ grips my arms and centers my focus onto his face. “Please, Noah, don’t spiral. Today’s a good day. A fun day, right? The sun’s out. Fireworks later. Tons of yummy food. Hey, let’s change the subject, okay? Yeah, alright, we’re changing the subject. Did you get my invite? To the thing at my place?”
“Yes,” I answer automatically. “The thing in, um … in a couple weeks. I’m pretty sure Cole RSVP’d for us.”
“It’ll be the week before the Spruce Ball, so we’ve gotta keep out of my mother’s way while they are setting up. I heard it’s the first year Jimmy won’t do a big dance number, since he and Bobby apparently have a big trip planned together or something.”
“Nice,” I say, still distracted by my thoughts.
“You look like you’re about to pass out. Are you overheated?”
“Maybe.” I bring a hand to my head. Am I dizzy? Is that what’s happening? “I work indoors so much, I think I’m just … not used to being out in the heat …”
“And this summer is especially punishing,” agrees TJ, worried. “You want to get out of the sun? Maybe head to the house for, I don’t know, a refreshing beverage or something?”
I think the only person who can center me right now is Cole. He’d know exactly how to break me out of my mind loops. We’d be laughing in no time. He would easily put into proportion all of the complicated relationships I’m seeing all around me, helping me focus on the one and only one that matters: ours.
That is, if he wasn’t still at the gym right now. Doing his gym things. On a holiday. Because he was promoted.
“Okay, a drink,” I decide, shutting up my thoughts.
“Yeah, let’s go get you cooled off. I don’t like that flushed look on your face,” he says as we continue on. “Not to mention …”
The second TJ and I are about to round the back corner of the house toward the patio, he shuts up, comes to an abrupt stop, then turns to face me and stretches out his arms to block my way.
I nearly crash into him, then zero in on his widened eyes. “Is something wrong?” I ask, alarmed.
“Nope!” he squeaks in clear and obvious distress.
“Then why’d we stop?”
“Because I—I had a better idea!”
