Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Robbie
If Brandon isn’t suspicious, I’ll eat my left nut. Fobbing off work sick isn’t something I make a habit of, but I’m a man on a mission, and ever since I told Brando about how bummed the office was getting me, things have only gotten worse.
This last year has been filled with more shitty lows than fun highs, and I’ve reached a point where I don’t want to deal with it anymore.
Life is supposed to be lived. It’s supposed to boost you up to know this is the short time we get to experience, and I want to experience it in ways that make me happy.
Having my soul slowly crushed out of me isn’t what I signed up for, and it’s about time I made moves into bringing that shitshow to an end.
I’ve had feelers out for another job, but it hasn’t filled me with motivation either. Looking for yet another option to tie me to the place where Brando isn’t happy seems pointless, when he had a perfect future he saw for himself, and I see myself living it right alongside him.
We were supposed to buy me a car a few months ago, but I keep putting it off, pretending to be picky, when really, I have that money in mind for something else.
So, after feigning sick and dropping him at work “in case I need the car,” I hit I-91 North.
It takes just over an hour to reach Kilborough since I get a smooth drive the whole way.
Amber and Steve are meeting me for a late breakfast, and straight after seeing them, I’m heading down to meet another very important person.
A Realtor.
Brandon’s parents embrace me the second I walk into the huge brewery called Killer Brew.
“We’ve missed you,” Amber says, leading us toward a booth.
“I’ve missed you both too. It’s been a whole three weeks.
Torture, I tell you. Pure torture.” I slide in opposite them and grab the menu, wanting to have a big breakfast to calm my squirming gut.
Nerves and food don’t usually mix, but these are excited nerves.
Hopeful nerves. I-might-be-sick-if-my-plan-doesn’t-work-out nerves.
“You said you were doing something important up here?” Steve prompts. When I told them on the phone I was coming to visit solo, I hadn’t wanted to say too much on the off chance Brandon was listening in. It must have killed them to wait until I got here.
Either way, I’m so fucking pumped to tell them. “I’m meeting a guy to look at some land.”
They both stare back at me. “Ah … what?”
My jaw drops. “You’re not excited? We’re hopefully going to live within spitting distance, and this is the reaction I get? Bro my god, you’re both dead to me.”
Steve pats my shoulder. “Relax, it’s just not what we were expecting you to say.”
“What were you expecting me to say?”
“We thought …” They exchange a quick look. “We thought you were going to tell us you’re proposing.”
Oh. Ohhhh. “Now that I’m thinking it through, I do see how you came to that conclusion, yeah.”
“You’re telling me you’re not going to be my son-in-law?” Amber asks.
“Oh, no, I definitely will be. Brando’s marrying me whether he likes it or not—” I freeze, remembering I’m talking to his parents. “Ah, but mostly whether he likes it. Only if he likes it. If he wants to, I mean.”
“Shut up, Robbie,” Steve cuts me off. “Whether he likes it or not is right. We’ve already claimed you for a son.”
“Oh my god, wait.” Amber’s mouth drops. “You’re moving here? Like, here?”
“Just sank in, did it?” I ask smugly.
She lets out an ear-splitting squeal. “We were excited about you guys staying in West Haven instead of going back to Arizona, but here? Holy shit, I’m going to have my babies home with me.”
I let out an enormous laugh. “We are so not moving in with you two.”
“Well, obviously not here with us, but … you know.”
I do know. Would I have liked to move back to Arizona with my large, invasive family?
Hell yeah I would. I love my parents, and my brothers have stuck close to home.
But I’ve been talking a lot with my little brother Marshall lately, and while he loves Arizona, he’s not sure how long he and Felix will settle there.
Felix grew up in the same town Brandon did, so when I threw out the ridiculous suggestion of them moving here too, I was not expecting him to say they’d talk about it.
If I could have Marshall here with us, Brando’s parents a few streets away, and mine ready to fly out for a visit a few times a year, I’ll be all set.
I smile. “Not like we have a choice but to move here.”
“Why’s that? Because we’re too awesome to be away from?” Steve asks.
“No, because we’ll have kids soon, and we’re going to need grandparents we can shamelessly palm them off to.”
Amber laughs, but Steve looks like he’s gone into shock. “Grandkids?”
“Yup. Two of the little terrors.”
“Soon?”
The shock he’s gone into is fun. “Well, it’s not like we can try to pop them out on our own, so it makes sense to get the process started as soon as possible. We could be waiting years. I want a mini human running around.”
“I can see you as a dad.”
That makes my chest puff out. “I can see me as a dad too. Brando as well. I think seeing him with a Brandini will kill me though.”
“It does add an extra layer to how much you love each other. Stressful too, though.”
I nod seriously, because while I love being a goofball, I don’t want them to think I haven’t given this real thought.
“I get that. I’m fully expecting a kid to be a chaos monster in a cute suit, and luckily, I’m used to thriving in chaos.
So that part isn’t going to be an issue.
Us having no privacy will be hard to adjust to. ”
“Then you better make sure you get that land. It’s going to be a lot easier to have sleepovers with their grandparents if you’re a few minutes away.”
Steve eyes me. “I’m very worried about our ability to handle a little Robini though.”
“Don’t worry about that. My parents said I was a perfect child.”
“Somehow, I think your parents are full of shit.”
I pretend to be offended, and then we order and eat.
I fill them in on all of my plans, and the more I talk through it, the more excited I am to put them into place.
Buying some land, building a house, bro-posing to the love of my life, and then settling down with two tiny people is getting more exciting the closer I get to making it happen.
The whole visit seems like a billion years away, feels hazy like a dream, and it’s hard to imagine it ever actually happening, but I’ll fight for that future if I have to.
Ever since that first moment Brandon talked me through it, I’ve been hooked.
Bit of land, cute house, wild kiddies, and my days spent in sunshine, looking after our place and the kids.
Where does work fit into all of that? I have no idea.
Because every time I look ahead, I don’t see a suit anywhere in sight.
I can’t picture me making the commute to West Haven in peak traffic.
Can’t picture being tied to a desk or being made to perform at dinner parties for all the old, rich people who like a young, pretty face.
And maybe Brandon was right.
I’ve always wanted to make a difference, but maybe it doesn’t need to be such a huge one. Maybe I start small. With us. With our future family.
After all, if I can change our lives for the better, won’t that be the biggest impact I could make?