Standing slowly, I sit on the couch beside him, tossing my arm over his shoulder to hold him close. Pops has always been the only person closest to my height and width, but now heseems so small, so fragile in my hold. My heart does another dangerous dip and dive, stomach knotted with nerves, but I push it down where it can’t hurt me.
I hold him for many long quiet moments, just listening to him breathe. Thinking about how one day I’ll forget about the sound of his soft breaths, the smell of his cologne at the end of the day, the hearty chuckle when he finds something particularly funny.
One day he’ll just be a memory, and I’ll be lonelier than ever.
“You got a date for Andy’s wedding?” Mama asks me as I stand in the doorway of her office at the farm.
I wince at the question. “Not yet.”
“It’s in a month,” she reminds me, a sour look on her face.
I know she’s thinking about how time is slipping through our grip. Andy’s wedding, then however many months we have with Dad afterwards. Time is moving so fast, only to slow to a crawl afterwards.
“I’ve been talkin’ to someone online. I’ll invite him.” The lie just slips out. I’m not sure what really possessed me. Maybe it’s the idea of Pops worrying about me, Mama being stressed. I don’t know. But the lie doesn’t feel quite as wrong as I expected.
“Really?” Mama asks, eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“Just for a little bit. It’s long distance.”
“Long distance?” Mama repeats skeptically.
“Yeah, mostly over the phone. That sort of thing.”
Mama hums and eyes me shrewdly, all the weight of a stare only a mother can truly give. “Beau, you’ve been my son forthirty-six years, and you’ve never been one for many words. How do you date someone mostly over the phone?”
The little dig isn’t unusual, by now I’m not sure people think it’s a dig when they talk about my lack of talking. Most of the time I don’t have much to say. A man of action instead of words, most of my teachers in school used to write on my report card. Even my football coach liked that about me, especially when I came out. Easier to ignore the elephant in the room if the elephant isn’t blabbering about it. It probably helped that I was bigger than most of our linebackers even back then.
“I can talk enough when I need to, Mama. Anyway, you got those orders for the new sprinkler hoses in lot thirteen? We talked about it a few weeks ago. I'm afraid the blueberry bushes will die if we don't get it fixed.”
“On back order,” she murmurs distractedly, face turned towards the computer screen. “I’ll try another vendor. I meant to tell you… it just slipped my mind.”
Now’s the time to mention the other thing I know she won’t like. “Have you thought about taking the next few months off? Anna can cover the front office in the meantime.” After all, the girl has been shadowing my mother since high school.
Letting out a weary sigh, she throws herself back into her office chair. Her normally vibrant red hair is a messy nest on top of her head. I’m not sure she’s even brushed it recently. Dark circles rest under her eyes. For the first time in my life, I can’t fix something for the people I love most. And that in itself is enough to bring me to my knees.
Leaving Mama to it, I head back to the front office. Everyone greets me with friendly faces, but there’s still that annoying element of pity in their eyes. What am I going to do? Mama will be expecting me to have a date for the wedding now. Probably much to her relief after spending years harping on me to date, to get out there, to find someone.
It’s not like I don’t like dating. I just don’t trust most people. The times I have tried to date haven’t exactly gone well. People take one look at me and expect one thing. But my heart aches for something else. I ache for someone to hold me like they cherish me. For someone to take on the world with me when life is just a little too hard to bear. But most days I’m not sure that person exists. So maybe, I should fake happiness. Like I fake everything else.
With my mind made up, the farm disappears behind me in a cloud of dust. The setting sun dips below the trees along the road, casting orange and pink hues along the earth that I know better than the back of my hand.
An empty house greets me. Like always. Sometimes my most fervent, slightly frightening dream is to come home to a house with someone waiting on me. A smile, a kiss to my cheek, and arms that can hold me when vulnerability hits me. That’s a landslide of a dream though, one that I’ll keep dreaming, until the loneliness consumes me.
After a few chilled beers on my back porch, my fingers have a mind of their own. Googling about fake boyfriends is about as easy as one would imagine. Only books appear when I search, which is frustrating. I’m not much of a reader. Some of them do look entertaining though.
Sidetracked.
An hour of searching later, a social media website for a company calledThe Boyfriend Experiencecomes across my phone. Interesting. It seems mostly legitimate. A service that provides fake boyfriends for weddings, work events, and even just for companionship. The young woman that owns the place seems friendly enough. She’s got tight blonde curls and a sweet smile that eases a lot of my discomfort at the idea of doing something so far-fetched.
What if everyone figures out that I’ve hired someone? The only person that might see through me would be Colby, but he’s been so caught up in his own grief over the loss of his husband that maybe it’ll slide right by him. Maybe I can convince everyone I’m happy, that someone loves me. If I can give my dad just an ounce of peace before he passes, wouldn’t it all be worth it?
I’m not much of an impulsive person but I fill out the survey, type up an email, and send it off without a second thought. The silence of my house has never been so loud. So deafening. Even the cicadas outside seem quieter, hushed after my quick decision. But I know it’s the right one. If only to get me through the wedding, so no one wonders for a minute how I’m doing.
Not that they would wonder. After all, I'm strong, steady Beau. The one that never falls apart.
CHAPTER TWO
TREVOR
