“Me, too, Hen,” I said, the smile taking over my face. “Me, too.”
There was a moment of quiet, all of us standing there together, not quite sure what to say next. Before it got truly awkward, Joel and Tristan made their way up the walk. Tristan was carrying several bags of what appeared to be pastries, and Joel had a half-gallon jug of coffee in each hand.
“Mornin’, y’all. We brought goodies…” Tristan said, his words trailing off as his eyes zeroed in on Ren’s arm around me. The second he understood, his eyes crinkled up into half-moons.
Joel tilted his head back and laughed, long and loud. “Lost Boys, coming in clutch.”
My cheeks had been pretty hot ever since Ren walked up to me, so it was nice to see him flush from the attention, too.
“Why don’t we take this inside?” Beckett said. “If for no other reason than to avoid stomping all over the garden.”
We’d all been very careful with where we were standing, but he did have a point. We went inside, where we were met by Ginger and Leo.
Leo sent me finger guns. “Finally.”
Sawyer looked at him. “You knew before we did?”
Leo snorted. “I live with him. Of course I knew. He was a mess and a half, and he kept bringing Ren jars and jars of jam.”
I buried my face in my hands while Ren cackled and pounded my back. I glanced through my fingers at Holden, who was laughing so hard he’d practically fallen against Beckett. Ru held out his hand and Leo high-fived it, and that set everyone off all over again.
Ginger came up and gave me a big hug. “You know Mr. Paige would love all of this, right?”
“Of course he would,” I said.
Of course he would.
Once the novelty of our announcement wore off, we set about cleaning up the Meeting House. Everyone took to their list of chores with extra vigor, and within a few hours, the place was sparkling. I’d always admired the way that the architecture brought in the outdoors, creating a welcoming vibe for any and all visitors, but now this location held something extra.
It had been made possible by Robert’s donation of landandmy purchase of the lot on which my business now stood, as if the two of us had colluded across time and the ethereal realm to make sure that the Lost Boys and people like us would always, always feel safe and welcomed.
It was hard to describe, but I felt a strong sense of acceptance in the very fabric of this space. More than just the acceptance of my friends, this felt elemental. Spiritual.
Blessed.
We washed up and sat down for lunch, this one sponsored by the local VFW, which looked like it doubled as a motorcycle club. Older men and a few women in leather vests and faded bandannas served us world-class barbecue, baked beans, and potato salad. Not only was the food delicious, but the strong sweet tea also had enough caffeine and sugar in it to power the entire town of Seguin.
Puzzled at the interesting mix of people this Saturday, I leaned over to Beckett. “The VFW? How did you get them to volunteer?”
He shrugged. “They came to me. They’re trying to do good in the community, and they love to support anyone else who has the same goal. Also, if you look close enough, you’ll see that some of these folks are sporting rainbow bandannas.”
I looked again, and sure enough—they’d been bleached by the sun and worn thin by hard riding—those were definitely rainbows. Another mark of Seguin moving forward and embracing acceptance.
While Ren and I were the talk of lunch, I was surprised at how easily people got over their shock. Everyone was just so happy for us. In fact, I was starting to understand why Robert had carried himself with such pride. To catch the eye of someone like Ren and to have the acceptance of our loved ones—it was the world’s most joyful ego stroke.
It also turned out that some of the gentlemen from the VFW had known Robert before he’d met Ren. Based on the looks we weregetting, that knowledge had been biblical. They seemed a little worried when we made the connection, but then Ren cracked a joke about how Robert had always wanted to buy a bike, and now he knew why.
The biggest guy, a grizzled old-timer with pure white hair and beard, went a little red, then shrugged. “Robert was a good guy.”
The Lost Boys all looked at each other when he said that. As a general statement, it didn’t mean that much. But to us it did. Roberthadbeen a good guy. He’d been an excellent teacher, but I was lucky to understand that he’d been an even better husband and father.
I still had moments of insecurity when I thought about trying to live up to his legacy, but I reminded myself that I wasn’t trying to live up to his legacy. I was working to build my own.
Thankfully, I’d had a good mentor.
CHAPTER 28
ren
