Page 59 of The C*ck Down the Block

I had to blink up at the sky for a while and take a long slug of my beer before I could talk again.

“So you think I should ask her to marry me?” That was the first time I allowed the thought to be real. I wanted to marry Trixie. I wanted to spend absolutely every minute with her that I could. I wanted to hear her scream my name when I made her come, and I wanted to her declare that she loved me too, and I wanted to hear her say “I do.”

“We’ve only got one life, kid. Better to start spending it with someone who makes you ridiculously happy sooner rather than later, because we never know how long we get with them.” He patted my knee and left me sitting in the yard to think about what he’d said.

His words resonated with me so deeply that a place inside that had felt hollow for a long time didn’t feel so empty tonight. I left the house with more clarity than I’d had in weeks. I was going to marry Trixie. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I would.

After we survived this damn high school reunion.

She didn’t call me until late morning and said if I didn’t take her to the Snoozery, a small local that everyone liked, for brunch, she would likely perish. I couldn’t let that happen, so I took her to brunch.

Between bites of cinnamonstreusel pancakes, she said, “Lulu made us hair and nail appointments for this afternoon. But I can cancel if you want to take me home and have your way with me.”

“I very much want to do that, but Lu might have my head for that, especially after you showed up last night with your hair down and more lipstick on my lips than yours.” I turned my body a bit to the side, because I’d noticed someone who thought they were being sly pretending to take a selfie, but who was actually trying to get a picture of me and Trix.

I didn’t mind so much if people tried to get pictures of me, that came with the territory, but they didn’t need pictures of her eating breakfast. I’d tipped the hostess a hundred bucks to get us seated fast and in the back, but we still had people around us because it was a Saturday and this place was always packed.

Trixie didn’t seem to notice. She pointed her next bite on the end of her fork at me. “She does have her eye on you.”

Didn’t I know it. I wouldn’t let Lulu or Trixie down. “Hey, Maguire wanted to know if you’d like to have coffee or something with his wife, Sara Jayne. I’m going to be flat out for the next few weeks at training camp and I thought—”

“Sara Jayne Jerry wants to have coffee with me? Umm, yes please. I love her whole platform. I wonder if I could get her to come to do a thing at the library for the teens too.” She made a little face. “Ooh, is it weird to use a connection like that?”

“No, babe. It’s fine.” She’d learn soon enough that it was okay to rely on the connections I had as her own too. She was already in with the cowgirls, and Maguire and his wife were another extension of my team.

We didn’t get out of the restaurant without a few more pictures, but whatever people posted on social media later would show me with my arm wrapped around the woman I loved and nothing more. Still, I’d warn Maguire and his PR people again.

We certainly didn’t need more fodder for Rachel or the rest of Trixie’s classmates to prove our relationship was real anymore. At least I was glad of that.

I dropped Trix off at home and got in a workout before I had to shower and get ready for night two of the reunion. As far as I knew, my public high school just did the one-night thing, which I hadn’t gone to. But fancypants St. Ambrose had to make this a three-day affair. Tomorrow’s picnic was the more low-key finale, and then we’d be done. I’d do my best to talk her out of going to her twenty-year reunion if I could help it.

She held my hand a bit too tightly as we walked through the doors of her high school gymnasium later that night. I think she expected Rachel to pop out from behind every corner.

We’d just gotten the name tags from the check-in and were walking through an elaborate balloon display that I think was meant to look like a beehive, but sort of resembled a really big, brown butt.

Trixie led me into the darkness of this OSHA hazard. “I just know she’s planning something, and if I get pig’s blood spilled on me, I swear to god, I will murder her, chop her up into tiny bits, and force feed her to my carnivorous plants.”

“Okay, Seymour, but you don’t have any carnivorous plants. I promise, everything is going to be fine. We’ll make an appearance, let people take pictures, you can say hello to anyone you wanted to reconnect with, and we’ll go.” And I wouldn’t let Rachel anywhere near her. “There won’t be time for RayRay the cray cray to pull anything.”

She squeezed my hand tighter. “What if she does something after we leave?”

We exited through the beehive butt’s front hole and into what I could only describe as bee-palooza. It was tacky as hell and looked like a high school musical compared to the event Trixie had pulled off last night. “Then we won’t be here and that will irk her to no end.”

Trixie took one look around and literally snorted. “Oh my god. This is... this is awful. Like, are we actually supposed to be inside a hive? This is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t like this earlier in the week when I came to help with the decorations.”

Lulu and Mina waved to us from over by the make-shift bar set up on what were probably school lunch tables, and she greeted us each with a cup of yellow punch. “It’s supposed to be non-alcoholic honey mead.”

“Looks to me like Jules helped with the refreshments.” I took the cup from Lulu but set it down on the table.

Trixie politely took a sip but made a face and smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth like she was trying to get scrape the flavor off her tastebuds. “Have you seen Rachel yet?”

“Yeah,” Lulu said, and she did not look happy about it. “And Amanda, whose brought someone as her date that you’re not going to like. I’m guessing that’s Rachel’s surprise.”

“What? Who?” Trixie looked around the gym until she must have spotted the date in question.

The look on her face was worse than for the pee drink and it had me wanting to punch someone and then rush her out of here. “Who is it, babe?”

“Asshole Anthony. Why would Amanda bring him as her date to the reunion? Why would anyone want to bring him as a date anywhere?”

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