Second Star on the Right
SECOND STAR ON THE RIGHT
Bobby: Sorry to drink and dash. Fixing barn doors this morning.
Bobby: You make a good little spoon.
“No, Big Whoop?”
Patty leaned over the counter and pointed to the pastry case. Leaning over, I spotted a variety of whoopie pies. Despite the name, there were plenty of whoopie pies that’d require two hands to eat. I was shocked to see there was more than the classic chocolate cake with white frosting. I could feel my stomach rumble, demanding I sample at least one.
“What’s the best seller?”
“Mr. Hollywood, have you had a whoopie pie before?”
“Of course!”
There was no hiding anymore. Everybody in Firefly knew me by name. I needed to know if I was the only flatlander, a term I’m not sure they said with love. What started as a frosty reception had shifted. People’s tones might be skeptical, but they thawed more quickly now. I wondered who I had to thank for the change in demeanor.
“From Maine?” Patty raised an eyebrow. The longer she stared, the more I felt the judgment. “I’ll take that as a no. Try a classic, and then we’ll see about something more daring.”
“O— okay.”
She didn’t say another word as she went about getting my order together. The moment she turned around, the whistling started. I couldn’t place the tune, but Patty bobbed back and forth as she sang. I held back a laugh as she tossed in an obscene hip thrust.
“How long are you in town for?” She slid a plate with a whoopie pie across the counter. “Long as you can put up with Bobby?”
“Something like that.” Vague. I could handle vague.
“He’s a sweetheart. His whole family is. Weird, but in a lovable way.”
“There’s more?” Shoot. Of course, there were more. “You mean his family in Firefly.” Yes, Patty, I’m a highly paid actor who can’t improv to save his life. “I’m a lucky man.”
“Damn straight you are.” Patty took my money and dropped it in the cash register. “If you want to have a seat, I’ll have your espresso for you in a moment.” On the chalkboard behind her, espresso fell under the “Fancy Coffee” column.
Grabbing an empty table, I pulled out my cell phone and reread Bobby’s text. I must have been in a coma for him to get out of bed without waking me. I was equal parts sad and relieved. It would have been nice to wake up to him wrapped around me. On the other hand, what did I say to my fake boyfriend after a night of spooning?
The thought left me with a grin. At what point did going through the motions of a relationship become… well, a relationship? As I read the texts for the millionth time, I recognized the butterflies taking flight. I wanted another night by the fire, except this one wouldn’t end with me in my underwear.
Catching the curious glances of a woman on the far side of the room, she smiled before going back to her paper. The attitude towards me had shifted. I expected all eyes to be focused on me, cursing the visiting flatlander. Was that because Gladys had activated the phone tree or because the news had played the clip of Bobby kissing me on repeat?
A copy of the Town Crier had been wedged between the sugar and honey. I wiggled it free, deciding to see what constituted news in a small town. Above the fold, an exposé revealing behind the scenes of Marigold and Paul’s vow renewal. The couple had gone on a tropical getaway to celebrate. It was the wholesome goodness I expected.
I flipped it over. “Really?”
“Hollywood Star Slumming it in Firefly.” I scanned the article, shocked at the number of interviews. I checked the byline, “Will Sanderson. Isn’t there a spring festival or old theater that needs saving?” Worse yet, by the end of the article, it called into question Bobby’s kiss, saying sources close to the couple doubted the relationship.
“Well, that’s problematic,” I mumbled. If the tabloids found out I staged a relationship to avoid bad reviews, they’d have a field day with me. Every celebrity did it, but getting caught always turned into a mockery. I’d have to be sure and watch myself in case Firefly’s star reporter was watching me.
“Are you Chris Wilde?”
I glanced up from the paper to a beautiful woman holding an oversized cup of coffee. She didn’t wait for a reply as she took a seat opposite me. Golden hair fell over her shoulders, framing her face so that her icy-blue eyes stood out.
“Oh yeah, he is.” Patty set my coffee in front of me. “ The Chris Wilde.”
She vanished while the woman across from me let a smile spread across her face. Now that I thought about it, she was the first woman I found in Firefly remotely close to my age. I started believing Firefly had retired couples and a few midlife bears and not much else.
“I am.” Groupie? Did she want me to sign a movie poster for her son? “How’s your day?”
“This face might look composed.” She waved a hand in front of her head. “But I’m a ball of stress ready to snap.” Her finger twirled a lock of hair. “This might sound forward, but you’re the only person who can help.”
I poured a carafe of cream into my espresso. What could I possibly do? If this turned into a request for a donation, I’d give a few bucks to whatever charity she represented. I raised the mug, smelling the deliciousness.
“Gladys called me and said you could help.”
Gladys, I was going to take away her phone.
“I’m directing a play at the school.”
“Oh, she told me about that. Peter Pan , right?”
She nodded. “It’s going… badly. I’m a middle school English teacher. What do I know about acting? I read plays, not produce them. Danny left.” She paused as my eyebrow rose. “The drama club advisor. He got an offer to be on a reality TV show and said it could be his big break. He just upped and left. So now I have all these kids in tights and…” The more she talked, the further into panic she delved. “… it’s going so bad.”
I sipped my espresso, waiting for the ask.
“I heard you’re going to be in town for a while.”
“From Gladys?”
“No, Dorothy.” I’m sure her cheeks turned red even from across the green.
“So… what can I do?”
“I need help with the play. You’re an actor.” She batted her eyelashes.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to keep a low profile.” It wasn’t a lie. I imagined my days wandering about town, poking my head in stores. By midday, I’d be back at the house exploring the woods like an overgrown kid.
“Says the man on the news.”
“Touche.”
“They’re kids, and I don’t want to let them down. Not to mention, I need the stipend from the job. My son wants to attend college in Boston, and that ain’t cheap.”
“I—” I tried resisting.
“This would mean a lot to Firefly. I don’t know if you’ve noticed. We don’t have a lot going on. The school play is a town-wide event.”
I assumed every weekend, they had a festival in the park. It seemed like everywhere you turned, a small town came up with reasons to bring people together. So far, Firefly had the comic book convention and Bingo. The longer I waited, the faster she twirled her hair. At any moment, I expected her to tie herself into a knot.
I took another sip. What could it hurt? I had thought about joining a theater ensemble… though I imagined they’d be old enough to drive themselves to rehearsal. The people of Firefly continued winning my heart. Helping a school play? It was the least I could do.
“Okay.”
She let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m not making any promises, but the least I can do is come talk to the kids.”
With lightning speed, she leapt from her chair and threw her arms around my shoulders. I held out my espresso to make sure I didn’t dump it on the floor. In a death grip, she kept repeating, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“No promises,” I said.
“Heard. The kids are going to be thrilled. It’s a bunch of middle school kids putting on Peter Pan . It shouldn’t be this hard. I swear, they’re going to put me in an early grave.”
She let go and leaned back. Her cheeks flushed red before she held out her hand. “Where are my manners? I’m Laurel.”
I gave it a shake. “Nice to meet you, Laurel.”
“I’ll grab your number from Bobby.” How did she know Bobby? The familiarity of Firefly’s residents bordered on supernatural. “Enjoy your whoopie pie.” She leaned in, whispering, “Make sure Patty knows how magical it is. She can be such a gossip.”
I nearly choked at the comment. Did this mean Firefly had a hierarchy of gossips? Were some casual commenters, while others spent their evenings retelling every juicy detail? I chalked up not knowing to being a city boy.
Laurel continued with a slight squeal as she headed to the door. She had gone from a tired teacher to a giddy schoolgirl. What had I gotten myself into? My attempts to keep a low profile had gone right out the window. At this rate, I might as well hold a press conference in the park and invite the entire town to attend.
It wasn’t even lunch, and I had my first accosting of the day. For that alone, I deserved dessert for lunch. I picked up my whoopie pie, fingers sticking to the fluffy chocolate. Oversized, I couldn’t eat the pie without smearing it across my face. I dug in, taking a huge bite. It had the perfect blend of chocolate and sugar. Chewing slowly, I couldn’t help but close my eyes. Patty had been right; I had never had a good whoopie pie in my life.
Before I finished the first bite, I dove in for a second.
“What did I tell you?” Patty shouted from behind the counter.
“God damn, Patty. I’ll take two more.”
“Damn straight, you will.”
I’d need them as rewards for surviving the Lost Boys.
“You haven’t been here a week and now you’re helping with a school play?” I nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. “And now you’re dating the resident handyman. My fake life is doing better than my real one.”
Standing outside the bakery, I had no idea what to do with the rest of my day. For a weekend, I expected the hustle and bustle of people making the most of their afternoon, but Firefly moved at a slower pace. I wanted to see some of that small-town charm. If I waited a little while, would they have a spontaneous chili cook-off or a flash mob?
As if on cue, music filled the air.
“Okay, now that’s creepy.”
From somewhere in the park, an ensemble filled the town center with jazz. I guess if I was going to hide away in a small town, I might as well take in the little moments. Wandering my way across the street, I followed the path. It wasn’t a large town square, but it fit Firefly. Maybe the size of a football field, with a water fountain at the top, surrounded by flowers yet to bloom.
As I walked further down, a group of teens stood with their instruments at the ready as the conductor paused their performance. I paused, missing the background music during my stroll. After playing the role of a bootlegger, I never thought I’d want to hear jazz again, but it had grown on me. I resumed my walk as their music started.
I assumed it’d be too chilly for people to be sitting in the park, but there were plenty of people scattered about. A few women were in their gardening clothes, prepping flower beds. They stopped long enough to wave, their gloves covered in mulch stains.
“They’ll look beautiful,” I said, but my words were drowned out by a saxophone solo. Instead, one woman gave me a thumbs-up and went back to work.
I slowed my walk as I spotted a trio of men sitting at a stone table. One of them waved me over. I gestured to myself, unsure if they meant me. He pointed and then pointed at the table. Both of his companions glanced in my direction, waving me over. Now, it’d be rude to say no and keep walking.
“When in Firefly,” I mumbled.
As I approached, I could see the three of them holding cards. Unlike me, they wore wool knit sweaters and caps, seemingly unbothered by the cold. If I were playing cards, I’d need gloves to keep my fingers from freezing. I was wondering what northerners endured to consider this good weather.
“You’re him!” The man in red plaid gestured to the stone bench opposite him. I had nothing else going on today, so why not stop and enjoy watching the elders of the town play a game of poker?
“I am!” I shrugged before taking my seat. Might as well lean into it. “Who am I?”
“The new guy,” his friend said. He wore a dark gray flat cap and answered as if it summarized everything they needed to know. “If you haven’t figured it out, Firefly has boundary issues.”
“Harvey, leave the poor man alone.”
“Wait.” My eyes narrowed. “Why am I picturing you with a Viking helmet?”
“Now, who’s famous?” He pounded his chest. “Abraham the Great!”
Harvey and his friend rolled their eyes. “Abraham the something, all right.”
“I was in the Viking helmet at Jason’s convention. We’re the old guys he let play Mutants & Mayhem. Boy, was that ever a bad idea. I swear I didn’t mean to kill them all.”
“And I quote, ‘I’m going to make you cry for your mom,’ then you laughed like a madman,” Harvey said.
“He thought his weather powers were a match for my supersonic speed.” What had Jason done to the town? I knew they all gathered behind him and made the impossible happen, but to hear grown men still talking about it? This would be his legacy.
The third man held out his hand. “Walter.”
“Chris.”
He shot me a wink. “Trust me, we know. I haven’t heard the ol’ biddies at the phone tree talking about somebody since…” He trailed off, his face scrunched up.
“That moose attacked that hunter’s truck.”
All three laughed. Walter’s graying bushy mustache hid his mouth, making the laughter even more comical. “Hunter is a generous term,” he said. “City boys thinking they’re going to get their first deer.”
They all turned to me. “Don’t look at me! I know the difference between a deer and a moose.”
Abraham gathered the cards and started shuffling. “And now, so does he!” I couldn’t help but laugh with them. They weren’t hostile to outsiders, but they had no problem poking fun at their misconceptions. Maybe they weren’t as defensive of their town as I first thought.
“What brings you to town?” Harvey pulled off his cap, smoothing back his gray hair—what little he had—and situated it back on his head.
“I have a feeling you already know.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Of course we do. But we’ll pretend you’re not the talk of the town.”
I could have explained hiding away from the media. Instead, I threw caution to the wind and prepared for judging sideways glances. “I’m here visiting somebody.”
“You can say Bobby’s name,” Harvey said with a wiggle of his white eyebrows. Somebody kicked him under the stone table. “What? Are we still pretending we don’t know his business?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, Bobby. We met when I was here for the convention. He convinced me to visit.”
“How are you liking it, city boy?” Abraham’s voice gave away nothing. He dealt cards, including to me. While the other two were jovial, he remained hard to read, which is saying something for a man who murdered a bunch of schoolchildren.
“It’s quiet.”
“Boring,” Harvey said.
“Refreshing,” I corrected. “I haven’t been this relaxed in a while.”
“I see you’ve been to Twice-Told Tales,” Abraham said. “How many jackets did she make you try on before letting you leave?”
“Three,” I said, picking up my cards.
“She let him off easy,” Walter grumbled. “Don’t worry, she’ll get you again before you leave. She always does.”
They picked up their cards, and I followed their lead. Classic five-card poker—I had played my fair share. I eyed the three men, trying to read their faces. Harvey’s eyes narrowed as he grimaced. He wasn’t a threat. Walter, on the other hand, did everything but whistle his appreciation. With a quick upturn of his lip, I spotted his tell. He put on a show—no worries from him. Then there was Abraham, whose face didn’t give away anything.
“Two.” I tossed a couple of cards on the table.
“So, what’s this thing with Bobby?” Abraham asked. I couldn’t tell if the question was a clever ruse to give away my hand. “Sounds pretty serious.”
It might be serious, but not in the way they expected. I wished I had talked to Bobby about how far he wanted me to take this. At the end of this, I’d pack my bags and leave Firefly, and he’d be left to deal with the fallout. Would it impact his life? His job?
“I don’t want to jinx it,” I said. It wasn’t quite a lie. “Things are going well between us. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Have you met his old man?” Walter asked. “That man is crazy.”
“Crazy?” Harvey snorted. “I heard he once went into the woods and wrestled a bear.”
“It wasn’t a real bear,” Walter said. “He was wrestling Jason, and it was for charity.”
“I said what I said,” Harvey replied. “He wrestled a bear!”
Walter smacked his forehead. “Though I’m sure Jason is an expert bear wrangler these days. I mean, have you seen Simon?”
I nearly choked at the man’s sexual innuendo. Firefly gossiped, I got that. Simon assured me the town accepted its own, but this was… insanity. Not even in the city did I expect a group of men to be this open. While they jested, their words were laced with empathy and caring. I could see why somebody would want this in their life.
“I haven’t met his dad yet,” I admitted.
Abraham handed us cards, and it was time to show our hands. I dropped my three aces. Both Harvey and Walter threw down their hands, grumbling. I turned my gaze to Abraham, who had been silent while the others joked. He locked eyes with me as he lowered his cards.
“Straight flush.”
The other two hooted and hollered at my defeat. I might have lost, but their reaction made me chuckle. They were the characters I expected in this town.
Now that they had brought up Bobby’s dad, I had questions. How could I be fearful of a man who raised such a sweet guy? The thought of Simon in a wrestling match left me with a smile. They had planted the seeds of doubt, and even if we weren’t really dating, I suspected I’d be meeting the man eventually.
“Should I be worried about Bobby’s dad?”
When Harvey and Walter grew silent, my stomach tightened. The pair of jokesters stared at Abraham. When I turned to the former Viking, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
Abraham held out his hand. “Hi.” His lip turned up, the smirk more devious than endearing. “I hear you’re dating my son.”
They set me up.
I debated running, bolting for the mountains in hopes he couldn’t track me down. What were the chances I’d stumble onto Bobby’s family? I reached out, ready for him to crush my sweaty hand or make a threat. A single up and down before letting go. “This is where I’d normally say if you get her pregnant, you better put a ring on his finger.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Harvey said.
“One gay man hits on you, and now you’re an expert?” Walter shook his head. “He was just asking for directions!”
“You make my son smile.” I did? What had Bobby told his father about me? I thought I was the only one playing out our imaginary relationship. Maybe Bobby had an ulterior motive? I was both worried and excited. The thought of making Abraham’s son happy made my heart race. “Keep making him smile.”
It wasn’t a threat. He struggled to hide the smile. Dad was genuinely happy for his son. It both warmed and broke my heart. I think I needed to talk to Bobby and see exactly what was happening… or not happening with this relationship.
“I’ll do my best.” The more I thought about it, the more I wanted the statement to be true.
“Does he call you dad?” Harvey asked.
“I think he calls him daddy,” Walter said.
I snorted, trying hard not to choke over Walter’s suggestion. “You don’t own enough leather for that.”
Abraham leaned forward, face still as ice. “Says you.”
Everybody laughed, and Abraham gathered the cards. Whatever awkwardness might have occurred vanished as he shuffled. A moment later, he was dealing me in again. Not only had I acquired a fake boyfriend, but now I had fake in-laws. As long as we focused on the cards, I’d be all right.
“When are you coming over for dinner?”
I tried maintaining my poker face despite the nerves. I imagined a rifle hanging on the mantle and him caressing the stock while asking me about my intentions. No, no, put the fear aside and play it cool. “Soon as I get the invite.”
“Consider yourself invited.”
I needed to talk to Bobby before his father gave his blessing for a proposal. I needed to bow out gracefully. “As much as I’d like to stay, I need to stop by the house before swinging by the school. But I’m holding you to that invite, Abraham.”