7
Buzz
"Man, I haven't been here in years,"
I say, joining Court in the inn's charming restaurant.
"Hasn't changed at all."
"I know. It's nice, isn't it? Familiar."
"Sure is."
I brace myself on the table and lean forward.
"Does that mean our tree house is still here?"
His eyebrows lift.
"I don't know. We can go have a look after lunch."
I nod eagerly.
"Let's do it."
"Sure. And how are you feeling today?"
"Much better. In breaking news, humans need sleep."
He smiles wryly.
"You don't say."
"What about you? Jet lag still kicking your ass?"
"A little. But a good night's rest and the world's best breakfast helped."
"Good to hear."
We open the leather-bound menus.
"Oh, apparently we're having oysters and clam chowder, but feel free to grab anything else you want."
My first thought? Flipping this table out of the way and pouncing on my best friend like a linebacker on a quarterback. That's what I really want, but I know full well that's not what he meant.
I flip through the menu, but I'm unable to pay any attention to the food, my thoughts trapped in a bottleneck of feelings and desires I've never been brave enough to admit. You'd think hardly ever seeing him, putting myself out there and dating other guys, giving one hundred percent to my job, staying active in the community, that any one of those things would extinguish the flame—firefighter pun allowed—of attraction I have for Court.
But nope. Nothing has even dampened it one bit.
I watch him reading the menu and wonder what he actually wants. Not for lunch, and not with me, obviously, since there's no hope for anything more on that front, but out of life in general.
Now that he's back in the States, is he planning on staying in Boston, or has he been bitten by the travel bug? Does he want to work in a big hospital or maybe start his own practice? He's mentioned a few times his father, a talented neurosurgeon himself, has been pressuring him to take a position at Brigham and Women's Hospital.
But before I can bring any of that up, he snaps his menu shut, looks across the table at me, and says the last thing on earth I expected him to say.
"I have to get married."
I rest my menu on the white linen tablecloth.
"Say what now?"
"I met with Grandpa's lawyer this morning. He told me Grandpa Arnie left the inn to me, on two conditions. One of them being that I have to get married."
I search his face for any signs he's kidding. When I don't find any, I hedge.
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get married. No way am I standing by and watching this place get sold."
He takes in the cozy restaurant with its sage-green walls, checkered tablecloths, and rough, fieldstone fireplace crackling with a low-burning fire, making the whole room smell like woodsmoke. A wistful smile tugs at his lips.
"I've got too many good memories here. It has to stay in the family."
"I agree. But marriage? That's huge."
"Tell me about it."
"You said there were two conditions. What's the other one?"
His brow furrows as he replies.
"I have to stay in town for six months."
"Like you're on house arrest?"
I say, which makes him smile.
"That was my first thought, too. No. I just have to reside here. I can travel, but I need to live in Clovelly."
I knew Grandpa Arnie well growing up. He was glued to his usual spot at the front desk, and he'd always let Court and me do all sorts of fun things around the inn—collect eggs from the chicken coop, treasure hunts in the grounds, hang out with Lola and her chefs in the kitchen where Court and I would stuff our faces with whatever amazing food they were making that day.
Out by the edge of the property, there's a grove of six trees in a circle. They're way too straight and tall for a tree house, but that didn't stop Court and me from hounding the old man for one anyway.
One day, he led us down there. He'd built a tree house for us on legs in the middle of the trees. Some of my best childhood memories were made in that little wooden house.
Arnie was a good man, but after Court left, I had no reason to come around anymore. I'd see him at the grocery store or around town every once in a while, but he retreated after his daughter's scandal and didn't leave the inn often. It sucked how much our parents' shitty actions affected him. It snuffed out his joy, and he was never the same.
He only ever wanted what was best for Court, and I have to say, the two conditions he's left in his will are kind of genius…from my completely selfish, totally personal perspective. I don't know what his reasons are for wanting to keep Court in Clovelly because they sure as hell aren't the same as mine, but I'm thankful to him all the same.
If Court goes through with this as he's saying he will, it means I'll get to have him for the next six months. That'll be the longest stretch of time we've spent together since he left after high school. My internal cheer squad is going ballistic.
"You boys ready for some food?"
Lola asks with a bright smile as she places two bowls of steaming hot clam chowder in front of us. When she moves out of the way, two other chefs appear, filling every square inch of our table with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, greens, mac and cheese, beef stew, a dozen oysters on ice, and two types of salad.
"Might have to call Howie to help us get through all this food,"
I joke, glancing up at her.
"Hey, sweetie. It's so good to see you."
Her smile lights up her whole face.
She's a bit older now, her messy bun streaked with more gray and the skin around her eyes crinkles more when she smiles, but she still exudes the same no-nonsense warmth she always has.
I stand up and give her a hug.
"It's been too long,"
I say, holding her tight.
She pulls back and cradles my face in her hands.
"I remember when you barely came up to my waist, and now I have to crane my neck to see you. Gosh, time flies."
"You still look as good as ever,"
I say, sitting back down.
"Stop it,"
she says, letting out a small giggle as her cheeks turn pink.
"If you boys need anything else, let me know."
"I think we're good,"
Court says, eyeing off the impressive banquet.
"Thank you so much for this."
"My pleasure. And be sure to leave room for dessert,"
she says with a wink.
"I made berry cobbler."
"My favorite,"
Court and I say at the same time.
She glances between us a few times, her flushed cheeks plump from smiling so much.
"It's good to see you two together again."
And with that, she and the other chefs leave.
Court and I heap up our plates with food and start eating. After a while, I decide to bite the bullet.
"So…who's the lucky guy going to be?"
"Huh?"
"Your future husband."
"Oh. I honestly haven't given it any thought yet."
I help myself to some more greens. No one makes greens as good as Lola. They're savory and flavorful, with just the right hint of smoke, garlic, and salt.
"For someone so smart, you're overlooking something glaringly obvious."
"What's that?"
I point my fork at my face. "Me."
"You?"
"Yeah. Got any better contenders?"
"No. I just…"
He frowns. "You?"
"Why not? We've known each other forever. We get on great. And we don't have sex. We're practically married already."
He finishes chewing then smirks.
"And you did offer me a blow job then never followed through on it. Withholding sex is definitely a married person thing."
I grin. "See?"
"But, Buzz… I don't know. Are you sure? I mean, this is a big deal. It's marriage."
"It is a big deal," I agree.
"But this place means a lot to me, too. I spent pretty much all of my childhood here with you. I don't want it sold to some out-of-towner, either. Or even to a local. It's like you said, it belongs to your family. Consider this my small way of helping."
He shuffles in his seat.
"What about the other implications?"
"Such as?"
"Such as everyone in town knowing we're married."
I wipe the corners of my mouth with a napkin.
"Newsflash, most people around here already think we're together. Getting married will generate a few likes in the Clovelly Facebook group, a few congratulatory champagne and balloon GIFs, and then they'll move on to the next bit of town gossip."
"What about you dating anyone else? You wouldn't be able to for six months. Publicly, at least. Whatever you choose to do behind closed doors is your own business of course."
Court looks genuinely frazzled. Which is rare because he's usually the king of cool. Nothing in the world ever gets to him.
"I'm taking a break from dating to work on my stuff. Besides, I get to have you all to myself for six months. I won't have time to date."
Half joke, half true, one hundred percent pathetic. But my needy heart wants what my needy heart wants.
Our two other closest friends, Scooter and Cyrus, also live out of town, and as much as I love Howie, or Ramzi, or even my newest friend, Zane, no one holds a candle to Court.
"Are you sure?"
he asks, staring deep into my eyes.
"You don't want to take some time to think about it?"
"I'm sure,"
I reply without any hesitation.
"Let me do this for you."
He gives me a slightly bewildered smile.
"Yeah, okay. I guess it's another adventure we can add to our lifetime of crazy adventures."
"That's the spirit. Now less talking and more eating. I'm dying to see if our tree house is still there."