Page 29 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

Optimism has gotten me a long way in my life. —Gabe Gomez

I was sixteen years old when I was placed into foster care.

I remember so many small details about that day.

I remember she took my face in her hands and stared at me for a long time. “My beautiful boy,” she said softly. “My beloved boy. I’ll love you forever. I hope you know that.”

I remember her holding tightly to Lou, who was still just a baby at the time. I remember wondering if he’d remember anything about her at all, even glimpses of her face. Probably not, I figured.

I remember Dave shouting angrily at doctors and nurses, blaming them and threatening lawsuits.

And then I remember the social worker. I remember overhearing their conversation with Dave.

“He’s not my kid anyway.” The words washed through me like hot oil, all of them true but still hard to hear from a man I’d lived with for so many years of my childhood.

“I’ve got a job lined up in Vermont, and I’m not taking him with me.

He’s nothing like me. I didn’t mind being his stepdad, but I ain’t ever going to be his dad.

We never had much of anything in common except for his mom. ”

I remember sitting on a bed in a group home, flipping back and forth on my phone between pictures of Lou and my mother and desperately holding back every tear building up inside me.

I remember making a vow to myself: I would get back to Lou.

I would make sure I stayed in his life. I would be certain he always had unconditional love.

I would be by his side the entire time he was growing up to tell him that he was perfect and lovable and wonderful exactly the way he was.

I’m thinking of that day now as I scan through my last text messages to Dave. My fingers stop on the last message I sent. It’s still on Read, all these days after I sent it.

You don’t have to come home at all, you know. We’re fine here without you.

I want to be Lou’s guardian.

I don’t regret texting a single one of those words.

I meant them with my whole body, because Lou is thriving right now.

He puts on whatever clothes he wants in the morning.

Tom and Colin dote on him every time they see him.

Every night when I tuck him into bed I ask him if he’s had a good day.

He doesn’t say yes every day, of course.

Last Monday there was an incident at school with George Ryker and a truck they both wanted to play with.

Apparently, that day was kind of stinky.

But most days he gives me the same answer.

“It was the best day I’ve ever had.”

He’s his own personal positive affirmation, my brother. And he deserves to stay that way, no matter what.

I study the message again. I still think Dave loves Lou. He loved him enough to bring him to Vermont after our mom died, to try to give him a home here. But then again, once upon a time I thought Dave loved me.

There are so many things about this world I just don’t understand.

Like how someone can leave a child they fed and clothed for years inside the walls of a group home two weeks after their mother dies of cancer.

Or how someone can look at the child they brought into the world and only see the clothes they like to wear.

“Everything okay?”

Colin’s voice jolts me out of my thought spiral. “Huh. Oh, yeah. Just checking on something.”

He smiles as I slide the phone into my pocket. He takes hold of one of my belt loops and pulls me a little more closely toward him. “Hard to believe this is the last reno project left,” he says softly.

I look around at the event space, the last part of the inn left that needs to be renovated.

It’s probably a miracle this area sustained so little damage.

When the professional cleaners came through after the fire to clean the smoke and water damage, they didn’t even have to do much in this space.

It’s an old building that was attached to the large Victorian house Evelyn converted into an inn.

A shed, Bethany calls it, but I think it was originally a horse barn, and it’s always seemed just a little more fragile to me than all the other buildings on this property.

I wonder if it would have survived any kind of massive damage.

Luckily, it didn’t need to. The fire didn’t do nearly as much damage here as it did to the rest of the rooms, and Tom and Colin and I have made a lot of progress here in the last few days.

We replaced a section of the floor that had scorch marks, repaired some damaged paneling along the walls, and now all that’s left is the fun part: making this space shine and sparkle for the star-studded event Evelyn’s hosting here to kick off the leaf festival this year.

And that event’s going to be in less than two weeks. In just twelve days the festival arrives, and Dave will either come home or he won’t. And either way, I know I’m probably going to have to make some very, very hard choices.

I can’t look at Colin right now, so instead I let my eyes do more traveling around the space.

It’s long and wide, and the large beams of wood that stand proud above us, reminders of the hayloft that I think used to lay above them, give it warmth and character.

“We should hang fairy lights across all the beams,” I tell Colin.

“Wouldn’t that look great for the big event?

I know Evelyn has a whole bunch she keeps in storage. ”

Colin frowns as he studies the beams. “Yeah, probably would.” He sighs. “But fuck, those beams are way up there. I’ll get some ladders.”

“Thanks, babe!” I call out as he walks away. And then I quickly clasp my hand over my mouth, because did I just call him babe ?

I have very, very definitely never done that before.

But Colin just turns slightly and looks back over his shoulder. The right corner of his mouth moves upward, just a notch, until he’s half-smiling. “No problem, little fox. Be right back,” he says easily.

My heart rises like a bird in my chest. Like hope. Maybe Dave won’t come back. Maybe I can have Colin forever, and Tom too. In my mind I can see it: the three of us out to lunch together, in public, eating all the empanadas we want without anyone ever looking over our shoulders. My shoulder.

Tom comes jogging into the barn. “Great news!” he shouts. “The hardware store had the perfect sconces for this space. I’ve got four of them out in the Jeep, and we can—”

Before he can finish, I launch myself at him, wrapping myself around him like a spider and attaching our lips together. He holds onto me like a vice, and we both lean hard into the kiss.

“Well,” he says, when we finally break apart and he sets me down. “I’m not entirely sure I deserved that hug just for picking up some light fixtures, but I’ll take it.”

I shrug and grab hold of his hand as I look around the room, thinking about everything we’ve already accomplished.

Tom, Colin, and I have done so much together.

I’ve never been happier than I am with the two of them.

And in moments like these, I can almost convince myself that maybe what we have together could really last. Past the festival, through whatever happens with Dave, through whatever Tom and Colin still have to figure out. Through all of this.

We can do hard things.

Maybe.

Optimism has gotten me a long way in my life. I hold onto that thought as my other hand brushes up against my phone, still warm in my pocket.

I squeeze Tom’s hand a little more tightly. “You’ve done a lot more than find some fixtures,” I tell him.

He opens his mouth, and I brace myself for a classic Tom Evers witty retort. But then he closes his mouth again, and nods. He leans over to kiss me.

“Thank you, little fox.”

The bird in my chest rises again.

“Be careful up there,” Colin calls up to me.

“It’s just a ladder,” I call back. “I haven’t exactly climbed into the cockpit of a car that goes two hundred miles an hour, Colin.”

Colin snorts and goes back to frowning at the sconces he and Tom are unpacking from their boxes.

“I’m fine,” I tell them as I reach one hand up to secure another section of lights around a beam.

“I’ve only got one beam left and then I’m done.

” There’s a buzzing in my pocket, and my heart rate immediately goes up.

Not too many people text me. The usual suspects are Lou’s school, Dave, Evelyn, Bethany, and the two men standing in this room with me.

So: either my boss needs something, Lou’s in trouble, or Dave’s finally texted me back. I rush to grab my phone, but I can’t get it out with one hand. It’s stuck in the cloth of my pockets. “Gabe?” Tom says. “What are you doing up there?”

“Just trying to get my phone!” I take my other hand off the ladder, ignoring Colin’s calls for me to be careful, and manage to get my pocket untangled and get the phone out of it.

I click into the messages app, and my brain feels like it comes to a full and complete stop when I see the message there.

Dave

What the hell are you talking about? Lou’s my kid. Look, I’m done with you acting like you know more about him than I do. When I get back to Devon Falls, I want you out of both of our lives.

There’s a humming noise in my skull now, and it’s getting louder and louder.

It’s drowning out the voices of Tom and Colin, who are bickering about sconce placement and lighting angles.

The room suddenly looks dark and blurry around the edges, and I realize I can’t seem to catch my breath.

Why can’t I breathe? I hear shouting now, ringing against the edge of the humming, and I grab for air, but it won’t come.

My hands and feet are going numb, and I can’t move, I can’t breathe, I can’t move, I can’t breathe—

There’s another shout, and I realize my feet are going out from under me.

And then I’m racing down toward the floor. I catch a glimpse of Colin and Tom, see terror etched across their foreheads and their mouths lifted in screams.

That’s the last thing I know before everything goes black.