Page 98 of Bears of Firefly Valley: The Reasons Collection (Bears of Firefly Valley Boxed Sets #1)

LIFELONG MANFRIENDS

“He has arrived!” Gladys said, getting up off the couch.

“I expected him to be more… naked.” I recognized that voice. Harvey gave a slight wave as I walked into Twice-Told Tales. They had assembled a small cabal of carnival planners. They sat in the center of Gladys’s store on a leather sectional, far too big for any reasonably sized house.

“Jonny,” Laurel patted the seat next to her. “We were just talking about your little project.”

“Let’s try not to use the word little,” Walter said. “We don’t want to wound their pride.”

The ladies rolled their eyes. I gave a slight wave before taking a seat.

At least I knew Laurel. Over the years, she had become a permanent fixture in Mimi’s life.

I should have gone to her and asked for details of my grandmother’s life.

If I only knew my grandmother for brief visits, I bet Laurel could fill in the rest of the year.

“Jon, you know Laurel and Harvey. Walter is here because he and Harvey are inseparable.”

“True,” they both said.

“Sheryl works at the barbershop on the green.” I continued my waving.

It was awkward being the only one in the dark.

They most likely knew each other’s favorite colors, birthdays, offspring, prescriptions, criminal history, and the first time they tried alcohol.

I assumed all that information went into Firefly’s Town Crier.

“Do we have any outstanding business?” asked Gladys.

The tone changed the moment she asked the question.

Walter and Harvey were cuddled together, looking at a notebook.

Laurel had her phone out, skimming through notes.

Sheryl put on her thinking face. I felt like I had been given a test I hadn’t studied for.

“All the permits have been approved,” Laurel said. “Are we using the same layout as last year?”

Gladys shook her head. “Do you remember the debacle with Patty’s booth being next to Rita? We can’t have two desserts side-by-side.”

I kept my mouth shut as Sheryl’s head bobbed up and down. Were these the problems of a small town? Two dessert tables within twenty feet? Next, they would issue fines for the hot dogs not being long enough to fill the bun.

“I can switch Patty with Jason.”

“Sticky fingers on comics,” I said. They all froze, staring at me as if I had grown a second head. “Whoopie pies are sticky. Don’t want them to have food and then touch his comics. He’d have a meltdown.”

Gladys pursed her lips. “Good thinking. We’ll move Patty to the green. Carl’s sculptures can take her place. Then we’ll swap Jason and Rita.” She spoke the names as if I should know who she meant. Rita, I knew from the coffee shop, but Carl? I nodded along as if I understood.

“Is that it?”

“That’s it!” Gladys said with a sigh of relief. “I think we have our layout nailed down.” They were excited by the statement. How long had it taken for them to get a vendor layout? What madness had I gotten myself into? “That’s it for old business. What else do we have on the list?”

“Fireworks,” I blurted out. Yes, I had ulterior motives. I wanted to be sure when I left, I walked away with another memorable night.

Gladys gave a slight chuckle. “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll make sure you have plenty of fireworks.”

I wouldn’t have suspected it from her tone, but the way everybody turned to me… they knew. Did I blame Jason or Amanda for this? Amanda. I’m absolutely sure she casually stopped by Gladys’s shop pretending to be interested in a piece of furniture just to spread juicy gossip.

“We wouldn’t let you down,” Walter said.

“After all, we are Firefly’s official wingmen.” Harvey snickered, giving Walter a slight elbow. Jason and Bobby both had talked about the two knuckleheads and their well-meaning efforts. It almost made up for having my personal business on display for the whole town.

“Ignore them,” Laurel said. “This whole carnival is really just an excuse for fireworks.”

Gladys and Sheryl gasped.

“Hush, all of you,” Laurel said. “We have a bigger issue to talk about.”

Gladys crossed her legs, resting her notebook in her lap. She gestured to Laurel. “Quiet everybody, Laurel has the floor.” I’m pretty sure Gladys had a baton hidden away. In private, I bet she referred to herself as the Queen… no, Empress… of the Carnival.

“Half our volunteers come from the baseball team. Is nobody worried?”

Sheryl shook her head. “I heard from Sam, you know, the one with the thing.” Ah yeah, Sam with the thing. I knew him well. “He said the kids were excited to help.”

“That’s because their team has never made it into playoffs,” Laurel said.

“They have playoffs?” asked Harvey.

Laurel smacked her forehead. “Yes. Summer league has playoffs.” Laurel shook her head, amazed that the idea had never crossed their minds. I still didn’t understand where she was going with the info.

“None of you know because our team is…”

“Horrible,” said Harvey.

“The absolute worst,” Walter added.

“Didn’t we have a cardboard cutout in left field at one point?” asked Sheryl. Everybody turned to her, eyebrows raised. “It was a rumor I heard.” This is why the Firefly rumor mill couldn’t be trusted.

“They’re good this year. If they go to playoffs, we won’t have volunteers.”

“The parents?—”

Laurel cut off Gladys. “Will be chaperoning in Boston.”

“Chances of that are almost non-existent,” Gladys said.

“They’re so bad,” Harvey chimed in.

Laurel gave a shrug and sat back on the couch. She had offered her input and let it sit out there. I could almost hear her brainstorming how she’d say, “I told you so,” when the team made it into the playoffs. She’d practice it in the mirror when she got home.

“Now for important business.” Gladys gave a quick clap. “What color tablecloth should we use for the organizer table?”

Sheryl leaned forward, finger tapping her chin. I regretted my decision. If this was the worries of a small town, I think I’d implode. The next thing we were going to talk about was?—

“We need to make sure our outfits match.”

There we had it, the trials and tribulations of small-town Maine.

It had its charm, and the people were wonderful, but this would drive me nuts.

It’d only be a few weeks of their interconnected hive mind, and I’d be clawing at the walls to get out.

For now, I’d lend a hand where I could. If nothing else, it’d help carry on Mimi’s work.

I could already hear her in the back of my head, reframing the conversation to turn it into an adventure.

Her ghost had a point.

“Orange,” I said.

They all paused. I’m pretty sure Gladys winced at the statement. “Nobody else is going to be wearing it. Nobody looks good in orange.” Even Harvey shook his head. “We can either fit in, or we can be loud and stand out.”

Gladys eyed Sheryl, who gave a slight shrug. It was Walter who stood up, hands on his hips. “Just imagine this in all orange.”

“I’m imagining a traffic cone,” Laurel said.

“A sexy traffic cone,” he corrected. “They’ll be able to see us across the green. You know who else would have suggested it?”

Laurel reached over, taking my hand. I was confused for a moment when Sheryl leaned forward. She pushed back her shoulder-length hair. “That’s something Hazel would have said.”

Laurel squeezed my hand. Okay, maybe I judged them too harshly. The charm outweighed their outlandish nature. When Harvey helped Walter down to one knee, striking a classic superhero landing pose, I couldn’t help but crack a smile. Thank goodness they were filled with charm.

“Executive order,” Gladys decreed, “orange table clothes and matching outfits. Now, onto the fliers.” She smiled in my direction. “I hear you’re good with a computer.”

There was no easing my way in. Firefly required plunging in headfirst.

I couldn’t get the image of Harvey and Walter out of my head.

Throughout the committee meeting, the two had made it abundantly clear they were the best of friends.

Finishing each other’s sentences made us all chuckle.

Their animated antics kept the mood light as we worked our way through a list of necessary details.

Sipping a cup of chilled hot chocolate, my eyes went wide.

“I knew you’d love it,” Patty shouted from behind the pastry counter. The statement wasn’t enough. She had a victory dance. As she pumped a fist in the air, her ponytail spun around like a propeller. The owner of No Big Whoop had more energy than any person should be allowed.

I grinned as I sketched Harvey and Walter from the waist up, facing one another as they held hands as if exchanging vows.

At first glance, I might have suspected that these men had a torrid love affair.

When Walter patted Harvey on the back, his hand lingered.

When they stopped and stared at one another, the affection was palpable.

It took the entire meeting before I realized they weren’t gay; in fact, quite the opposite.

These men were flag-waving heterosexuals and so comfortable with their sexuality that it stomped out any semblance of toxic masculinity.

I bet on movie nights, they had a friendly cuddle, and something about that filled me with joy.

Smudging the graphite, I shaded Harvey’s laugh lines. They both had them, but Harvey must have spent most of his life smiling. When I reached his age, I wanted those grooves along my cheeks. The world would know I spent my days reveling in happiness.

I lost track of time as I added detail to their hands. As they stood there, Walter looked at their hands while Harvey admired his friend. If I were to draw the next moment, they’d be embraced in a hug. I’m sure they’d whisper their appreciation to one another.

“Wow.”

I slammed the sketchbook shut in a knee-jerk reaction.

When I looked up, Patty had a small plate with a tiny whoopie pie.

She wore a turtleneck that should have kept her modest, but the way it hugged her body suggested she liked showing off.

I couldn’t look any more guilty if I tried.

Raising an eyebrow, I realized I had been caught in the act. My cheeks turned red as I opened it up.

“Sorry. Not used to people seeing them in process.”

She giggled. “That is… I mean…”

“Did I go too far?” Radical love had been all about showing people consumed by their passion. For Harvey and Walter, I couldn’t help but think they were passionate about one another. It had nothing to do with sexuality, just a genuine love for their friend.

“It’s perfect.” She took my sketchbook and lifted it for a closer inspection. “Everybody in town knows them as a couple of jokers. If you’re not laughing at them, then you’re not paying attention. But…”

Patty stifled a gasp. Whatever caught in her throat made me nervous. The idea had come to me after an afternoon with them. I liked to think I could read the room, but maybe I had them wrong.

“More men should be like them,” she said. “Every time Walter says ‘I love you,’ Harvey replies with ‘Love you more.’ It’s beautiful, really. Sometimes soulmates aren’t who we expect.” She gave me a pat on the shoulder. “They’d think it’s perfect.”

Before I could comment, she pulled a loose page from the side.

Her eyes went wide. Without a word, I knew exactly the page she had pulled.

I had already drawn her but was waiting for the perfect moment to sneak it into the corner and run away.

Getting caught was not part of the plan.

I ran my hand along my goatee, staring at the far wall, avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry about that.”

She set down the sketchbook, still holding the page with her portrait.

Patty’s eyes darted back and forth. Every now and then, I’d catch a patron discovering the sheet of paper, and I’d revel in their expression.

I tried to avoid lingering. Once I set the page down and walked away, it was about them experiencing how somebody else saw them.

I felt as if I were eavesdropping on a private conversation.

She glanced down at her chest and then back to the drawing. “The girls are looking good.” I snorted at her statement. “Though, that right there is a full-sized whoopie pie.” She made a tsk tsk sound. “It’s called No Big Whoop . I’m sorry, you’ll have to start over.”

Her smile said otherwise.

“I like seeing people do what they love.”

She pointed at the picture of Harvey and Walter. “And you do a good job at it. You’ve got a gift.” She set her portrait on the sketchbook. “Hazel would be proud of you. She always had a smile when people got excited about the things she loved. It must be genetic.”

I handed the sketch back to her. “Radical love.” It was the first time one of my subjects heard the phrase. “This is for you. Think of it as a reminder to follow your heart.”

She dropped the plate on the table and lunged, arms wrapped around my neck. Uncomfortable, I gave her a pat on the back. Patty lingered for a moment before pulling back. Her eyes watered, and if she cried, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

“I needed that.” She put the sketch on the table. “Signature, please.”

With a quick scribble, I handed it back.

“I needed a boost today.” She wiped her eyes. “And if I keep eating my feelings, I’ll never make a profit. Now I have to figure out where I’m going to hang it.”

“Hang it?”

“Everybody needs a chance to see this. And make sure that one finds its way into Harvey’s hands. I’m willing to bet money he puts it in a nice box and gives it to Walter as a present. Those two exchange gifts like every day is a special occasion.”

I didn’t respond as she took her sketch and held it up in various locations around her shop.

Humble. I felt humbled that something I created turned around somebody’s day.

The book covers I created were intended to sell products.

I’m sure some loved them, but did those covers make somebody hum in delight? I doubted it.

As I packed up, Patty stood behind the counter, holding the sketch next to what I assumed was the first dollar she had ever made.

On the other side, a newspaper article celebrated the opening of No Big Whoop.

Knowing that something I created earned a spot between two monumental life moments warmed my heart.

Radical love could right the wrongs of the day.

I needed to practice what I preached.