Page 33 of The One I Hate
And Wes Taylor’s backyard.
I don’t know what my third-ranking best friend did back here, but it’s the perfect place for any occasion. Between the huge swimming pool, two fire pits, a lanai with plenty of seating, and a hot tub, the man has created a backyard oasis. So whether it’s a birthday party for his seven-year-old daughter Magnolia, also known as my goddaughter, or tonight when he’s hosting an impromptu un-engagement party with our closest friends and family, it works.
If I’m here, that means I’m with my friends, who are like my family. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful family. Loving and supportive parents. Sisters who might be a pain in the ass but I love them fiercely. But when it comes to the group of friends who have become my family, I’ll lie, steal, and murder for them. No questions asked. They helped me become the man I am today. I’ll do anything for them.
Except heavy lifting or yard work. I can; I just don’t want to.
Being here tonight, surrounded by my friends and our extended families, is the perfect night and exactly what I need. I’ve been feeling off the past few weeks. And it doesn’t take much to figure out when my funk started.
Charlie fucking Bennett. What power does this woman have over me that she makes it impossible for me to function? Not even buying Mona’s has lifted my mood. And buying a piece of propertyalwayslifts my spirits.
“Hey, man.” I feel the pat on my shoulder as Shane comes up next to me, handing me a drink.
“If it isn’t the man of the night,” I say, tapping my beer to his. “It all worked out.”
Shane nods, and I can feel the relief wafting from his body. “It did.”
Things with Shane and Amelia had been touch and go for weeks since the taste testing. We thought for a minute they were done for. Nevertheless, with the help of me and the guys, everything worked out. And I say me specifically because it took place at my childhood home, which I had no idea had a significance for the two of them. Turns out I missed a lot of signals about Shane and Amelia over the years.
“So, we’re all here,” Betsy says as we all take a seat around the fire pit. “And everyone knows everything, right? No other surprises? Things we forgot to mention?”
We all laugh because it’s a valid question. Things over the past few months have been actual insanity. And in all that’s happened, between Izzy and Oliver, as well as Shane and Amelia, I haven’t told anyone that I’ve bought Mona’s.
Not that I meant to hide it from them—and the news of my recent purchase would absolutely shock them. I just didn’t think it was the appropriate time.
Look at me, being considerate and shit.
Plus, Mona and I are keeping this under wraps until we have a new tenant. People don’t even know she’s selling. Which is shocking considering the Rolling Hills gossip mill could put TMZ out of business. Emmett lined up some showings over the next few days, and Mona agreed to close for “necessary repairs.” She told me she was even going to close the curtains so no one could spy.
Smart woman.
So despite me having news that would fit along with Betsy’s question, I choose to keep this to myself. I’ll tell them when the time is right. Plus, tonight is about Shane and Amelia. Despite what my friends think, I don’t steal thunder.
I just borrow it from time to time.
“All good here,” Wes says. “Football is good. Kids are good. We’re good. Everything is good.”
“You know about us,” Oliver says, wrapping his arm around Izzy, who got back from London this morning. I’m just about to chime in when Oliver continues, “She’s back where she belongs. And, we have an announcement.”
“You’re already engaged,” I say. “And married. You can’t keep doing this.”
This gets a laugh from the group, even Izzy. I knew I liked her from the second Oliver introduced her to us.
“Shut your face,” Oliver says to me. “What I was going to say is that we’re going to hold a reception, and a vow renewal, hopefully next month. Of course, I want everyone to be a part of it.”
“Hell, yeah!” I say. I might now be the lone single guy in the group, but I love a wedding. “I want to DJ.”
Everyone sends me confused looks. Which I get. How many real estate agents do you know that moonlight as a DJ? And in their defense, I don’t. It just seems fun. I have great tastein music, and I’m the best dancer in the group. Obviously, this should be my wedding duty.
“You want to DJ? You can DJ?” Oliver asks.
I shrug. “How hard can it be?”
The only reaction I get from my friends are them shaking their heads and muttering things like “you’re ridiculous.” Which I’m used to. In this friend group, that’s my role.
I’m the outlandish one. Outgoing. I say what’s on my mind, and I’m blunt to a fault. I’m the life of the party and the one to likely stir up trouble.
I take a second to look around the fire pit, and you don’t need to be a genius, mathematician, or a Keebler elf to realize I’m the only one not in a relationship. And it’s not because of the seating arrangements. Take Wes and Betsy. They’re sitting across from each other, but no one would doubt that they’re together simply based on the looks they share. Izzy is sitting on Oliver’s lap, and he refuses to let her go. Amelia has her head on Shane’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around his.
