Page 83

TWENTY YEARS LATER

Jon: She saved your high school essay on feminism.

Evie: Really?

Jon: How did you get a B+? It’s so bad.

Evie: LOL. I made Frankie write it.

Evie: How’s that for feminism?

Jon: A+ Girl.

I couldn’t help but snort. Frankie hadn’t been the sharpest knife in the drawer.

Evelyn could have written the paper herself and gotten an A without effort.

I’m sure she did it as revenge for when he kissed Kitty during the basketball playoffs.

She had a knack for taking things a little too far.

This was one of our longest conversations outside of tragedy-related reunions.

Who knew, maybe this would be the start of…

anything? With Mimi gone, I needed some sort of connection with the last member of my family.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Rita plopped down in a chair on the other side of the table.

Since I sat down, she had busied herself behind the counter, changing filters and grinding coffee.

Thanks to her, the cafe smelled wonderful.

Rita scooted a small plate with a rustic donut covered in a gooey honey glaze.

“Twenty-year-old sisterly revenge.”

I leaned in and sniffed the donut. Fresh. Homemade. If I didn’t know better, Rita was hitting on me… or trying to fatten me up.

“I didn’t order?—”

“They were Mimi’s favorite. It’s on the house.”

Starting in fifth grade, I spent my summers in Firefly Valley.

I hated it. Their idea of fun included Bingo, gardening, porch sitting, and gossip.

On paper, this town should have been the antithesis of fun.

Mimi didn’t know how to not have a good time.

She screamed victory during Bingo, slashed at bushes with a machete, shared whisky on the porch, and told me everybody’s dirty secrets.

Mimi made Firefly a home away from home.

“I have two sisters. You want to see madness?” I didn’t need to ask.

The residents of Firefly were obscenely informal and over-shared to a degree that bordered on pathological.

I loved them. “Three preteens fighting for the bathroom. Or worse yet, trying to decide which station we’d listen to on the radio.

Dad almost called off our vacation after that madness. ”

Yup. Perfect Firefly moment. I took a bite of the donut. “Rita.” I resisted, but my eyes rolled back in my head, and I let out a low moan. Were donutgasms a thing? When I went for my second bite, barely done with the first, I’m pretty sure me and this confectionary delight would need to get a room.

“You are definitely her grandchild.” Rita stood up, laughing as she patted my shoulder. “Thought she writhed on the floor the first time she had a bite.”

I continued eating, imagining my grandmother moaning as she slid from her chair.

If Mimi had a dating profile, it’d read, “Over the top, drama queen with no limits. Laughter a must. Shenanigans required. Have bail money ready. Not for the weak.” The donut might have been delicious, but the real treat was Rita putting that image in my head.

“You know…” She turned around behind the counter. “She’s the reason I opened the coffee shop. She invited me over for the most dreadful cup of coffee of my life.” Sounded accurate. “Next time, I brought coffee and donuts. She made a joke about peddling it out of the trunk of my car.”

My heart doubled in size. I knew Mimi was a wonderful woman with wit sharp as a tack. Hearing somebody sing her praises reminded me that her legacy lived on. If she were here, she’d be taking chances, living life to the fullest. Fine. I took my cue from her.

I reached for my phone.

Jon: Hey, it’s Jon from the other night.

I stared at the text, unsure if it sent the right message.

Hey, it was fun making out, and you give a stellar handjob didn’t quite feel appropriate.

Did I ask him out? I still hadn’t placed his face, and now that I thought about it, I never asked his name.

They needed to add a chapter on impulsive behavior in the Gay Man’s Guide to Dating.

Would hitting the send button be the start of another disappointing romance that ended with me devouring chocolate and watching the Romance Channel?

Nope, Mimi would say live without regrets. I pressed send. Swoosh.

Ding.

He replied? I looked at my phone, confused. When I didn’t see a reply, I turned around, donut in hand, still chewing. Sitting in the far corner of Rita’s coffee shop, I spotted my unnamed hottie holding his phone. If not for the sugary goodness, I’d have dropped my jaw.

He held up a finger. Going back to his phone, he furiously typed. Swoosh.

Unknown: Hold on, there’s a sexy bear who’s got my attention.

Jon: How sexy?

Unknown: I’d follow him into the bathroom and give him a handie.

Jon: He sounds like a tramp.

Unknown: A sexy tramp.

Mister McHottie gave me a wink. Me, with a mouthful of donut, looking like a starved chubby child let loose in the candy store. My cheeks went from warm to hot. If he thought this was sexy, wait until he saw me with a whoopie pie.

I got up from the table and weaved my way toward him.

Jeans and a checkered short-sleeve button-down, he reminded me of a lumberjack with a little sophistication.

His dark brown shoes were fancy but comfortable.

Would it be wrong to ask if his underwear matched?

No, I needed to save something for later.

As I approached, he stood, holding his hand out.

Be still my heart, a true gentleman. He used just the right amount of cologne, musky vanilla, enough I wanted to lean in and sniff him.

I went to shake his hand and realized too late it was covered in gooey honey.

He flinched but didn’t stop his handshake.

“Tyler, and you are?” With the pristine shirt, complete with iron creases, he struck me as a Tyler.

“Jon.” I let go, and he licked his finger. Instant erection. “Pleasure to meet you.” He grinned before gesturing to the chair opposite him. If he opened a door for me, I’d propose.

We took our seats, and he grinned, his eyebrow inching its way up.

He looked like the cat who caught the canary.

Even with his name, I couldn’t place him.

I knew a dozen Tylers, but none of them were nearly as handsome.

Something about the baby blue eyes was… fireworks?

Cotton candy? My brain had gone on the fritz.

“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

“I’m a horrible person.”

He laughed. “Twenty years is a long time to remember somebody.”

Twenty years ago, I spent my last summer with Mimi. The carnival. The kiss. Oh. My. God.

“Tyler Bailey.” He had been going into his junior year at Firefly High.

Before they revitalized downtown, the green had been nothing more than a couple of picnic tables.

While trying to catch up on my summer reading, this cute boy with a round face sat down, interrupting my poor attempt at being a good student.

“You’ve… matured.” By mature, I meant he had gone from an awkward, chubby teen to a beautiful, thick man. Even with the beard, I could see those cheeks turning red like they had all those years ago.

“I never found out. Did you finish your book?”

“ Great Expectations . Not that year. I hated it so much.” Did I admit I only got a C- on the essay? Nobody would have described me as a model student back then. “I read it again as an adult. I… hated it less.”

Tyler chuckled. He reached down to a bag on the floor. I gasped when he pulled out a copy and set it on the table. He flipped it open to the back, where students had to sign their names. At the bottom… Jon Olsen.

“Hard to finish a book when you left it behind.”

I hadn’t thought about that book since I had to pay the fine for losing it. By the end of the summer, I had such a crush on this cute local to where I tried avoiding him. The last thing I needed was a scandal in Firefly or Mimi finding out she had a gay grandchild.

I had kept the secret to myself the entire summer.

For two months, Amanda, Jason, and I had been inseparable, bonding over terrible movies and yard work.

Jason didn’t have any problems admitting he liked guys.

For years, I had a crush on him but never wanted to violate our friendship.

It’d have been a cliché for the only two gays to wind up together.

I had yet to come out of the closet, even to my closest friends.

“The last time I saw you was at the carnival,” he said with a sly grin.

Oh. My. God. The shock must have shown on my face as he snorted.

Each year, Firefly wrapped up its summer with a carnival.

The center of town turned into a circus with vendors selling slushies and cotton candy.

It concluded with fireworks lighting up the sky.

I attended every year, and the next day, I’d pack my bag and head home to start the school year. That last year ended differently.

It was the first time I kissed a boy.

“Now he remembers,” he joked. “I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two.”

“Yeah. I’d say so,” I mumbled. “What are the chances?” Honestly, pretty good. I should have guessed my first kiss had stayed in Firefly. How hadn’t I bumped into him during my visits since? That was the real conundrum. Did the kiss flip his world upside down like it had mine?

I glanced down at the ragged copy of Great Expectations . “I can’t believe you kept it.”

“Books are kind of my thing. This one holds a special place in my heart.” As did that first kiss. His lip raised in a smirk, the same one I saw years ago before he kissed me under the flare of fireworks. “Want me to show you?”

Yes. Yes, I did.