Chapter 22
MATTHEW
Over beers and burgers at Billy’s Bar and Grill, we chatted companionably about a variety of different topics.
Until Louis had showed up in my life this week, I’d forgotten how nice it was to share conversation over a meal.
He’d been quiet at the start of our lunch, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but then had opened up once I’d asked to see pictures of his new niece, excitedly flipping his phone around to show me his namesake.
From there, we’d discussed his family, his job as a corporate accountant, and all manner of topics encompassing both of our lives.
Even after finishing our burgers, we lingered, ordering another round of beers as the conversation continued.
Several times throughout the meal, I’d caught the stares of other folks from town, no doubt curious about the man I’d suddenly taken interest in.
I’d ignored their looks, focusing my attention on Louis, determined to let the townspeople come to their own conclusions.
Who I fucked—or at this point, was interested in fucking—was certainly none of their business.
“Okay, so what’s your favorite book that you’ve narrated?”
I smirked, squeezing his fingers that he’d laced with mine. “Nice try. I’m not giving away my pseudonym.”
“You’re no fun.” His pout should have been annoying, especially on a forty-two-year-old man, but I couldn’t help but find it adorable. “Don’t you want me to have a way to remember you once I go back to the city?”
The thought of him leaving had my lunch turning to stone in my gut. Not wanting to let it ruin the mood, I deliberately kept my tone light. “You’d forget me so easily?”
His fingers tightened reflexively in my hand, his tone suddenly serious. “Forgetting you would be impossible, Matty.”
His brown eyes flitted between mine, an earnest vulnerability in them I hadn’t seen before. I thought I might like to get lost in those beautiful brown eyes of his.
“Can I get you another round?” My head snapped to the right at the sound of our server’s voice. I’d nearly forgotten we were in a restaurant.
“I think we’ll take our checks.” I glanced at Louis. “Is that good with you?”
“Yep. I’m finished.”
After paying our bill, we stepped back out into the cold winter air. The wind from this morning had ushered in another snow shower, and big fat flakes swirled and fell all around us like confetti in a Super Bowl parade. Louis gave a violent shiver, hunching down into his coat.
“Come on. Let’s get you a beanie.”
I pulled him down the street, stopping at the five-and-dime on the corner half a block from the bookstore. We were met with a blast of warm air upon entering, which was much welcome after the blustery cold outside.
“Wow. This place has everything.” Louis began making his way down the nearest aisle, which happened to be full of office supplies. The next aisle held home cleaning supplies, while the aisle after that was full of inexpensive children’s toys.
“Come on. Let’s head toward the back.”
A nicer boutique could be found on the other end of Main Street, or there was a JC Penney’s in the next town over, about twenty minutes away.
But if you were after a few basics to fill out your wardrobe, or the odd seasonal item, the back corner of the five-and-dime fit the bill.
Among the packages of undershirts, socks, and the like, there were plain unisex crewnecks in five color choices, men’s and women’s jeans in exactly one style for each gender, a small selection of inexpensive coats and jackets in what appeared to be random sizing and style, and a rack of assorted hats.
Mixed in with trucker hats, faded ball caps, and a very out of place Panama-style hat, were three beanies and a faux-fur-lined hat with ear flaps.
Louis immediately donned that last one, turning toward me with a huge smile.
The hat looked ridiculous on him, especially paired with his classy peacoat and stylish glasses, but the smile on his face had one forming on my own to match.
I’d been doing that more in the last couple of days.
Smiling. Laughing. Relaxing. Shedding the weight of grief and worry and loneliness in favor of being present in the moment and simply enjoying myself.
After a year of watching my wife slip away and another year of grief following that—two years of fear and misery and being devastatingly heartsick—Louis had brought me back into the light in just a matter of days.
There was still a heaviness inside me. I thought it might always be there.
But it felt like perhaps the clouds of grief were beginning to part.
A sliver of light here, a beam of light there.
A smirk. A chuckle. A belly laugh. Like a gift, Louis had brought that into my life, and in just a few days time he’d be taking it with him when he went home.
If talk about him leaving had left me feeling like I was carrying a rock in my stomach earlier, this new realization had me feeling a shaky sense of panic.
I wasn’t ready to let him go. I was just beginning to find my footing.
I couldn’t bear to return to the darkness once again.
But how did I convince him to stay? He was meant for city life, with his dinner parties and his designer coat and corporate job.
What use did he have for a grumpy bookstore owner tied to a town in the middle of nowhere?
There’d be no dinner parties. No visits to the symphony or the art gallery. We didn’t even have a movie theater.
And for fuck’s sake, we’d only known each other for a handful of days. Who the hell moved his entire life for someone they’d only just met anyway?
“What’s wrong? Where did you go just now?” Louis’s smile slid from his face, and he stepped forward, brows raised in concern.
“It’s nothing.” I mustered up a soft smile, the kind meant to offer reassurance and comfort. I tugged at the ear flaps of his hat. “You look ridiculous.”
“Rude.” The word held no bite and the playful smile had returned. “It is super warm, though. My head is sweating.”
He plucked the hat off, returning it to the rack and exchanging it for a charcoal beanie, though I hadn’t missed the way his hand had paused over the rainbow-colored one. I pulled the charcoal one out of his hands and replaced it with the rainbow one. He looked at me, startled.
“It’s obvious that’s the one you want. Why did you pass it over for the gray one?”
“Charcoal gray is classier. It matches everything. It’s elegant. It never goes out of style.”
“Who cares? It’s a hat. It keeps your head warm. If it makes you happy, get the rainbow one.”
Turning away from me, he put the rainbow one on his head and took a look in the mirror mounted in the corner.
His initial smile was cautious, but as I came to stand behind him, my arms wrapped around his middle, his smile bloomed into something radiant.
“I usually only wear rainbows on my socks or during Pride Month.”
“Why? It clearly makes you happy.” We’d talked about this over dinner at Christmas. About doing things simply because they made him happy. I couldn’t see how this was any different.
When the light in his eyes dimmed, I squeezed him tighter, wanting somehow to bring it back.
“I’m a lot, Matty. Loud. Opinionated. Over the top.
Dramatic. Too much. I’ve never been able to control my mouth, so I stopped trying a long time ago.
And I told you, I’ve stopped apologizing for it.
Or at least I’m trying to stop.” He turned, resting his hands on my hips, mirroring my position.
“Dressing stylishly is my way of balancing all that out. I still wear pops of color—I like my wardrobe to reflect my personality—but I suppose I do it in a way that’s more . . . palatable.”
“Palatable for who?” I growled, irritated. He was explaining all of this as if it was so reasonable. As if calling himself too much was simply a statement of fact. It was bullshit. All of it. He was joy personified. How could anyone think he was too much?
“Matty . . .” His tone was placating. Like I was the unreasonable one.
“No. I won’t have you talking about yourself that way.
You’re not too much. You’re just exactly the perfect amount.
Anyone who thinks differently is an idiot and isn’t worthy of being in your presence.
You’re a gift, Lou. A goddamned gift.” I plucked the hat off his head and began walking toward the front of the store.
I was fired up and on a mission now. “Come on. We’re getting the hat. ”
He remained quiet next to me as we stood in line and paid.
Once the transaction was complete, I pulled him out into the cold, yanked off the tag, and popped it onto his head.
It wasn’t until it was in place that I looked at his face.
Seeing the moisture pooling in his eyes had my stomach dropping. I’d lost my temper and upset him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away. I just wanted—oof!”
He launched himself at me, throwing his arms around me in a fierce hold. Returning the embrace, I held on tightly, not entirely sure what was happening.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice muffled against my shoulder.
“No one’s ever defended me like that. And I mean, I guess you were defending me from myself, or my perception of myself?
” He pulled back, swiping at the moisture underneath his glasses.
“But it’s based on what people have told me my whole life, so I guess I’ve just sort of internalized it.
No one has ever made me feel like I mattered enough to .
. . to get angry over?” He kept saying these things like they were questions.
Like he was explaining it to himself as much as he was explaining it to me.
Like maybe these were revelations he was having in the moment, and I was simply bearing witness to them.
Cupping his face with both hands, I bent forward and whispered a soft “shh” against his forehead before pressing a kiss there.
Pulling away, I kissed his nose, then tipped up his chin and pressed another kiss to his mouth.
He melted into me, tension seeping out of his body as his lips became pliant beneath mine.
“You’re worth getting angry over,” I murmured against his mouth before pulling away.
I tugged the edges of the beanie more fully over his ears. “I like the rainbow. It suits you.”
The smile he gifted me parted those clouds just a little more.