Page 17 of Mr. Picture Perfect
While Tanner keeps eating, I notice him watching his husband with a hazy look on his face, like his mind is somewhere else. I’m not sure if it’s because of my experience with my own parents and how the two “speak with their eyes and not their mouths”, but I sense something’s going on. Tanner and Billy are supposed to be Spruce’s power pair. The example for everyone else in town. The perfect couple to aspire to.
But I can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Oh, that’s our final guest we’re waitin’ on,” calls out Nadine. “Hey, can someone be a doll and let them in?”
Seeing as I’m closest to the door, I respond. “Got it, Nadine!” I head toward the door.
Before I can even reach it, it swings right open on its own, and in struts a familiar face in a plaid buttoned shirt and jeans. I think he sings in the church choir. “Hey, Tan!” he calls out, marching right past me over to Tanner. I turn, watching. “Hi, Mrs. Strong! Oh, gimme some hugs! It’s been forever since I’ve been here!”
Nadine’s response is a touch less warm. “Yes, alright, Burton, darlin’, it’s nice to see you, too. I think we’re about ready to get down to business. Now did you bring your team with you?”
“What team? Just kiddin’. Yeah, should be right behind me.”
The sound of shoes scuffling draws my attention back to the front door, where I see the effervescent face of Tamika coming in, wearing a pretty purple sundress with matching earrings. Her eyes find me first. “Oh, hi, Cole!” she sings. “I didn’t know you’d be here, too!” Then she peers back over her shoulder. “Hey, are you coming in?”
The scuffling of shoes I heard wasn’t hers. It was the shy cutie behind her—Noah, wearing a white polo shirt and khakis, with his hair parted, cheeks rosy, and sweet small eyes affixed to mine.
Chapter 5
Noah
I’m overdressed.
Everyone else is casual and comfortable. I look like I’m about to sell them insurance or give a lecture on astrophysics.
I wasn’t even supposed to go. I’m not supposed to be here.
But just as I finished typing up my piece at the Spruce Press, a very out-of-breath Burton rushed inside and nearly crashed into the side of my desk. “Got plans tonight? Not anymore. We’re goin’ over to the Strongs’.”
I stared at him over my glasses. “The Strongs’ …?”
“Just got a call. I got areallygood feeling about this. You done with your piece? Good, drop it on my desk, no one’s gonna think twice about it tomorrow anyway. Do you need a ride?”
I already felt like I was playing catch-up. “W-Wait, sir …”
“Whatever, I’ll pick you up at 7:30. I was told to bring my team with me—and that specifically includedyou, Mr. Man Of The Hour. Patrick’s still glued to his toilet, so I’ll just relay everything to him in the morning. Tamika is meeting us there.”
“What for? What’s happening at the Strongs’?”
Burton leaned in so close he could kiss me. “Everything,” he whispered dramatically.
I spent the next two hours at home sweating through about six different outfits before finally choosing a simple yet sensible t-shirt and a pair of nice, neutral jeans.
“No, no, not for the Strongs!” sang my mother when she saw me emerge from my room. “You’ve gotta dressupfor them, sweet thing, not dressdown. Where’s your church outfit?”
“We don’t go to church,” I replied.
“But the one you wear when you do. Oh! Shouldn’t you bring somethin’? It’s rude to show up to a thing empty-handed.”
Nightmares of Jiggle-Wiggles sprung my mouth to action. “It’s okay, I don’t have to bring anything with me. She specifically told us not to.” I might have been fibbing. But maybe it was also true, I figured. Between Nadine’s chef son-in-law and her own tireless round-the-clock staff, wasn’t it a statistical certainty that she’d have every last one of her food needs covered?
“Perfect,” sang my mother after I changed.
Into a bland white polo shirt one size too big.
With freshly-ironed Sunday morning khakis.
