This isn’t inevitable. This is a choice.
I’m not destined to be alone.
And I’m not guaranteed a relationship with Nicholas, either.
But I know what I want. I want him, and the life we could make together.
I love him.
And if I don’t find a way to fix this soon, I’m going to lose him.
The door to the back opens up, and two men come strolling in, each with baskets full of cut flowers. They’re both about Allen’s age, each with curly gray hair, a shorter, pale guy in suspenders and a taller, bulkier guy with a scruffy red beard. I quickly get to my feet, but I’m lost in the commotion of all three men talking at once.
“Seriously! Three baskets today?” Allen asks, exasperated. “What am I going to do with three more baskets?”
“You’re lucky there aren’t four!” the short guy says. “The way our husband was going at the peonies. It was the Barber of Seville out there.” He turns to me with a smile. “Hello. I’m Mack. Who are you?”
I clear my throat. “I’m Clay.”
Before I can say more, the other man drops a basket of flowers on the counter. “Complain all you want. I need the space to help the dwarf azalea establish. We can make bouquets for the retirement home. They’ll always accept them.” He slaps me on the back suddenly, and I notice the tattoos up his arm. “I’m Nathan. What are you doing here, Clay?”
“My grandfather was Randy Dixon,” I say.
Before I can say more, both men light up. “How about that!” Mack says, and this time, Nathan hugs me.
“Great to meet ya.”
“Clay had some questions for me,” Allen says. “I’m answering the best I can.”
“I got exactly what I came for,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“You know what you’re going to do with your man?” Allen asks.
Nathan’s deep voice rolls out. “Now that sounds juicy.”
I rub the back of my head. “Yeah. I’m going to go tell him that I love him.”
It almost makes me puke to say it, but the second I hear my own words, I know there’s no other choice.
All three men cheer, and I can’t help but laugh as I rub the back of my head, embarrassed.
“This is the kind of news we like to celebrate,” Mack says. He grabs a whiskey bottle from a shelf, but hesitates. “Are you staying a while? Or do you have to drive?”
Feeling like I’ve already imposed on their hospitality, I try to decline. “I should get out of your way,” I say. “But hey. Did I hear you right? Do you have too many flowers?”
Allen rolls his eyes. “It’s like I’m living in a perpetual state of poetic irony. I’ve always loved flowers. I even used to leave bouquets for Randy, back in the city. I think it’s one of the reasons he started to fall for me in the first place. After marrying two gorgeous men who love growing me flowers, I’m now drowning in them.”
“It’s good for the plants to cut the flowers back,” Mack explains.
“We donate as many as we can,” Nathan adds. “But processing them and distributing is a job.”
“And part of the fun!” Mack concludes brightly.
Allen laughs and pulls a bouquet close, deeply inhaling the scent. His eyes roll back slightly, and his husbands watch adoringly.
He blinks a few times and pushes the bouquet back. “I’m spoiled rotten,” he says. “You should at least stay long enough for a garden tour.”
“And dinner,” Nathan adds.
I shove my hands in my pockets.
I’m so used to being alone. I’m accustomed to everything going wrong. No one ever showing up for me. No one caring.
But maybe it doesn’t have to always be that way.
Maybe I can choose to care.
Maybe I can be the man that Nicholas deserves.
“Okay. Sure,” I say. “But about those flowers. I might be able to help you out.”
