Page 57

UNCOVERING THE STORY

Tessa: Did you say spaghetti dinner strip tease?

Chris: Now I have a date with my boyfriend’s dad.

Tessa: …

Tessa: …

Chris: Yes?

Tessa: Wait. I’m still unpacking.

In the middle of the day, Firefly almost stood still.

New York never slept. At any hour of the day, the streets were filled with people, and cars sped through intersections.

Here, the town appeared to take a deep breath and relax.

I thought I’d grow bored with the slow pace, but it had become an opportunity to reacquaint myself with… well… myself.

My phone rang. Tessa never called if she had the opportunity to text.

If she lost both of her arms, she’d learn to text with her nose.

I found a bench in the park and parked my butt, preparing for a deluge of questions and a healthy dose of judgment.

It was eerily quiet, not a single gardener or chess player.

The chill hung in the air, forcing me to zip my jacket while I answered her call.

“Hel—”

“Boyfriend?” When I didn’t reply, she filled the silence. “Just because I said you were getting away with a hunk doesn’t mean you needed to make it come true. It’s not like the media is doing a deep dive into your love life.”

“It’s not for show.” Tessa was the first person I asserted my feelings for Bobby. Saying it out loud made it real, and I couldn't help but smile. I could swear the sun shone a little brighter now.

“Christopher Wilde.” —My full name… that’s never good.— “Are you telling me you’re dating your fake boyfriend? Oh, the tabloids would have a field day with this.”

I chuckled. They would, and with any luck, we’d turn it into a movie. “I don’t know. I think the fresh air is doing me some good.”

“At least part of you.”

I wasn’t going to take the bait. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“It never ends. Good news, I should have a proposal for you in the next few days. I don’t want to jinx it, but I think you’re going to be happy.”

“How happy?”

“Cha. Ching.” I knew the idea of a big role meant a good salary, but part of me wanted to hear about the smaller roles. My career would rebound, and the roles would come in, but at some point, I’d have to talk to Tessa and let her know I needed a change.

“Gotta go. Studio is on the other line.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” Click.

I think she’d understand. Or at least, I hope she would. If she found out I was unhappy with the big-time roles, I’m sure she’d pivot and make it work. Instead of focusing on work, I took a deep breath, returning to the secluded town and its ability to dismiss my stress.

“What to check out today?”

It had become a game, poking my head in shops and wandering aimlessly. After the hilarity of the spaghetti dinner, I had gotten more than a few sheepish waves and knowing winks. I couldn’t wait to find a copy of the Town Crier to see if I made the front page.

“Oh, perfect.” I couldn’t remember the last time I walked inside a hardware store.

Normally, I hired somebody to handle home improvements, somebody like Bobby.

Not as handsome, of course. I walked across the street, wondering if the Logan of “Logan’s Hardware” would be a weathered retiree or a rugged young buck.

Bobby was working at a farm outside of town today, but I hoped I’d bump into him as he picked up supplies. I’d make a casual comment about looking for a screw, and then we’d cue the horrible techno music while the lights dimmed.

The moment I entered the store, I couldn’t help but grin. It smelled of freshly cut wood with an accent of metal. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Bobby had turned the hardware store into a cologne. To my left, bags of grass seed were stacked chest-high, waiting patiently for spring to arrive.

“Oh, it’s you.”

This had become the customary welcome. “It is!”

At the back of the store, a young man, barely old enough to have a mustache, gave me a slight wave. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude. Just didn’t imagine you’d come in here, of all places.”

“Logan?”

“Everybody calls me Junior. The original Logan is my grandfather.”

I could barely tell the difference between a flathead screwdriver and a… whatever the other one was called. There was an entire section of the store dedicated to nails, screws, and those little circular things that went around them. Wow, if Bobby realized how not handy I was, it’d be embarrassing.

“Can I help you with anything?”

I strolled past the axes, stopped, and took it off the rack.

It was heavier than I anticipated. After handling the chainsaw, I imagine an axe wouldn’t be enough to get the job done, not for an entire cabin.

The number of chainsaws on the shelf made it clear most people preferred the power tool approach.

“If I were going to help somebody chop down some trees, what would I need?”

“Like clearing a field or??—”

“Log cabin.”

“You mean Bobby’s cabin? He’s been dreaming about that for years. I’m glad he’s started making some progress.” I continued until I reached the counter. Junior appeared more like a lumberjack in training. Red flannel, a little chin scruff, and not quite the guns Bobby had. He’d get there in time.

“I was thinking I’d offer to give him a hand. Of course, I left all my power tools in New York.” Junior’s eyebrow raised. “You caught me. I think I have a hammer, maybe some duct tape?”

Junior shook his head. “If you were going to be of any use to him, you’d need…” He glanced about the store, eyes narrowing. I imagined him picking out a chainsaw or one of those vehicles with blades on the front. It’d be like driving a real-life Tonka truck from childhood.

He walked from behind the counter. In a few years, he’d make a cute cub and break the heart of every bear in town. He vanished into an aisle. “I have just the thing for you.” He came back with holding up a pair of gloves. “Can’t stress the importance of good gloves.”

I thought he might be joking as he moved behind the counter and handed them to me. “I expected something flashier.”

“When your hands are covered in blisters, you’ll thank me.” I slid them on, flexing my fingers. “You won’t be any good to Bobby if your hands are banged up.”

I refrained from a crude joke in front of the young man. “I’m going to take your word for it.”

While he rang up the gloves, I spotted the new edition of the Town Crier.

I spun it around, surprised my half-naked photo hadn’t made the cover.

I suppose Firefly needed to know about impending frost and its impact on crops.

Flipping it over, I found it… my name in a headline.

“Chris Wilde: Facts and Fiction.” I only read the first few lines, calling into question my reason for hanging about the town.

It wasn’t the article that concerned me.

The writer, on the other hand? William Wright.

I’d need to have a chat with Laurel about her son using me as cannon fodder. I put the paper back and looked up to see Junior giving me a curious glance from the corner of his eye. The men of Firefly weren’t immune to the gossip mill. I could tell he had a question that needed answering.

“Junior, you look like a man with a burning question,” I said.

He took my credit card, swiping it through the machine. Handing it and the gloves back, he leaned on the counter. “Everybody is talking about you and Bobby. If you haven’t figured it out, nothing exciting happens here. We’ll milk this for all it’s worth.”

I chuckled. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Are you moving to Firefly?”

I wish I could say I hadn’t given it any thought.

Every time I pondered what might happen between me and Bobby, this behemoth of a question stopped me cold in my tracks.

I thought about flying between Firefly and wherever the next role took me.

It wouldn’t be much different from how I operate now.

However, it ignored the other half of this question.

What would Bobby say about me being gone for months at a time? Would he visit me?

“Looks like a loaded question,” Logan said. My scrunched brow must have given away the difficulty.

“Right now, I don’t know.”

“I’ve known Bobby since I was old enough to pick up a hammer. Do you want a piece of advice?”

Everybody in Firefly talked about our relationship, but it was the first time somebody offered input.

I was nervous about opening the door. It was one thing for them to speculate from the outside, but the moment I opened this door, I’m sure we’d get a flood of opinions.

Maybe this was part of small-town living?

Everybody had a stake in Bobby’s happiness.

“I’m scared to ask.”

“Bobby is trapped.” I raised an eyebrow at the statement. “Firefly is wonderful. It will always be my home. But for some of us, we dream big, and Firefly has a way of keeping them in check. He'll say he's happy where he is, but if you ask me, he needs somebody to shake it up.”

Junior defied his age. “I can see that.” Jason talked about a similar feeling. He feared he settled for Firefly. He found a way to marry his dreams and Firefly. Simon brought the city to Jason and now they had monthly adventures beyond the town limits. He rediscovered his home. Here.

“Believe it or not, I wanted to go into video production.” That would be hard to come by in Firefly. “Dad wanted me to take over the store. So, you know what I do in my free time?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. With a couple pokes, he handed it to me. He walked through the steps to hang artwork on the wall without leaving dozens of nail holes. “Tools and Tips,” I read the last screen with a smile. “That’s pretty good. Nice job with the transitions.”

“I’m still learning. But it’s been fun. Dad keeps giving me lists of ideas to film. Who knew a few social media videos would take off?”

“Seven hundred thousand followers?” My eyes went wide. He only had a few dozen videos on his account. “At this rate, I’ll be coming to you for advice.”