30. Nate
Nate
We’ve come too far for this to be the stumbling block.
I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t keep anything from Rory ever again. But there’s some gray area here, too. It’s one thing to hide something from the woman you love, but it’s different to delay sharing potentially stressful information with someone who recently underwent emergency surgery.
In this case, it’s not either one of those. But it is a surprise.
Rory looks from me to Dylan and back, her brows furrowed. “What was that look for?”
There was a time in my life when I would have tried to play it off. What look? I would have asked, pretending there wasn’t anything to hide.
Those days are gone.
Secrets almost cost me the love of my life. I promised Rory that I’ll never keep secrets from her again, and I won’t. But this idea that I have for the talent portion of the competition could be a winner, and it’ll only work if it’s a surprise.
“Do you trust me?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Are you dropping out of the pageant?”
I hold her gaze. “No.”
“What about the text? You said you might not go through with it.” Rory bites her lower lip. “If you don’t want to, I mean, it’s okay. But don’t drop out for me.”
I think back on the group chat, the wording of different comments. I can see how she might have jumped to the conclusion that I was dropping out of the competition.
I’m doing no such thing. I still have some things to work out for this talent competition, sure, but I’m not dropping out.
I reach over and take her hand. “I’m not dropping out of the Mr. Lonesome pageant, Rory. There’s one event left, and I’m going to crush it. Don’t you worry.”
She smiles, the worry lines on her forehead easing. “Good. I mean, it’s up to you, of course. Dad kind of pushed you into this whole thing. But I just want to make sure you’re not doing something just because of me.”
A lump forms in my throat. I cough, trying to clear it. But hell, if I know one thing, it’s that every single thing I do in my life is for this woman. I’m so fucking grateful just to have the opportunity to be with her.
I clear my throat again. “You’re the most important thing in my life, babe. Like I said, I’m not dropping out this time, but make no mistake. I’d set this world on fire for you.”
Across the room, there’s a small scuffle as Dylan tries to corral Allie out of the kitchen to give us some privacy.
Rory looks down at our intertwined fingers. “Okay. I love you, too, Nate. I just want to make sure I’m not holding you back.”
I can’t help the snort of laughter that bubbles up. “Hell, Rory. You’ve never held me back. Not once.”
The thought is laughable because having her in my life has done the exact opposite.
I place a finger beneath her chin, pressing gently until she tilts her face upward to meet my gaze. “You bring out the best in me, every single day. You’re the best thing in my life.”
She’s silent for a minute, her deep-brown eyes studying me as I hold her gaze. This close, I can see the gold flecks around her irises. You wouldn’t notice them unless you looked closely, but right now, it’s all I can see.
Like a treasure that’s hidden in plain sight.
“You’re the best thing in my life, too, Nate,” she finally says. She blows out a long breath. “I do trust you, with every part of me. I hate that we had secrets between us for so long.”
“Me too.”
“Are you guys making out?” Allie calls from the living room.
Her words are followed by a shushing noise, presumably from Dylan, and then a lot of whispering.
I cup Rory’s jaw with one hand and trace a thumb along her cheek.
“Not yet,” I whisper, smiling.
Amusement crosses her features, then fades. “Wait. I trust you, but there was this look that you and Dylan shared. Like there’s something you’re keeping from me. Just…tell me what that was about. Please.”
I knew we’d come back to this, and we should. I promised not to keep things from her, and I’m going to keep that promise.
I straighten in my chair, realizing something. We never discussed this, not in explicit detail. That a surprise is different from a secret. It’s a subtle difference in a lot of cases, but it makes so much sense.
“What?” Rory asks, even before I open my mouth. “That was your I just realized something move. Now I need answers about that and about the silent conversation you had with my brother.”
This time, my smile comes easily, and I lean in and kiss her hard on the mouth before I answer. “I realized that there’s a better way to talk about it. All of this. Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”
I kiss her again because I can’t hold myself back, and when I pull away, her eyes seem darker than their usual deep brown.
I want this woman so badly. In my house, in my bed. Next to me at every possible event and outing and silly town festival. Forever.
“I love you, Rory Kelley.”
Her lips quirk up in a smile. “So you mentioned. What’s this grand idea of yours?”
It’s not exactly a grand idea. But it’s the distinction I’ve been looking for.
“Surprises.”
Rory studies me. “What about them?”
“I think we should make a clear distinction between secrets and surprises,” I say.
This makes so much sense now that it’s occurred to me.
“A surprise is something you keep from someone for a specified amount of time, right? But you always plan to tell them, and the reason to hide it for a while is to make the other person happy.”
“Okaayyyy,” she draws out.
I don’t know if I’m explaining this well, but I press on.
“A secret is different, though. Those hurt people.” Like us, I add silently. “And there’s not a plan to share it with the people you keep it from. So I think we need to make a clear distinction between secrets and surprises.”
Rory tilts her head. “I… Okay. That makes sense. I always figured that not keeping things from one another didn’t mean we’d spoil Christmas gifts or things like that. But I just don’t really understand why we’re talking about it now.”
In the background, Allie and Dylan are still whisper-fighting. I hope that asking him to let Allie stay with him for a little while isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever come up with.
“I’m not dropping out of the pageant. And I do have plans for the talent portion.”
“What are they?” Rory asks, leaning forward.
“That’s what I’m talking about. They’re a surprise. I just…can’t tell you yet. But I will.” My heart hammers in my chest, hoping this is enough.
“The fuck?” Allie screeches from the living room.
Great timing, Allie.
I reach out and take Rory’s hand, hoping it’s enough to hold her focus for a few more seconds until we can finish our conversation.
Rory closes her eyes for a few seconds, then opens them. “I trust you, Nate. Now, can you keep my brother from killing my best friend?”
Everything should be set. I’ve double- and triple-checked.
But there’s one part of this that I can’t confirm.
I wipe my palms along my thighs, grateful that the dark slacks I chose for tonight should hide the sweat.
In the backstage area, the other Mr. Lonesome contestants are also getting ready for the evening.
Lionel stares into the mirror as he sets a top hat on his head. He’s in the same outfit I’ve seen in years past, which I’m guessing means that he’s using the same talent.
His magic tricks aren’t bad, honestly. If he pulls out some new ones, he could be some serious competition.
Randy is clad in a pair of light-wash jeans and a leather vest, bent over a mirror as he…applies eyeliner?
Huh.
Joe and Chip are both dressed a lot like me: dark pants, light shirt, suit coat.
“Five minutes!” a volunteer calls. “Randy, you’re up first. You ready?”
Randy ducks his head. When he lifts it, he’s wearing a dark-blond wig. Combined with his outfit, things click into place.
“Rock ’n roll, dude,” our ’80s rockstar says, lifting his hand in a “rock on” salute. “I’m ready to take High Lonesome by storm.”
I wonder if I counted Randy out too soon. The man is confident and unapologetic. At first, I thought he was too much for Mrs. Alpert, but now I wonder if he’s exactly what she needs.
I shift in my seat. Everything I need for my portion of the talent competition should be set.
But as I watch the other contestants check their props, I wonder if I really am ready.
I take in a deep breath, then blow it out, because ready or not, the time is here.
I don’t have to win.
I repeat the phrase silently.
This is for Rory.
Everything I do is for her when it comes down to it. She’s everything to me.
And overall, I’m not as concerned with winning the Mr. Lonesome pageant as I am wondering how she’ll respond to this.
I’ve done everything I can to make sure this is foolproof, but heaven knows I’ve been burned before.
The murmur of the audience dulls as Martha introduces the evening. I can’t see much from backstage, but from the noise, it seems like a good crowd.
As Randy, the ’80s rock star, goes out on stage, I strain to see the audience. The curtains block most of my view, but even with a limited field of vision, it’s clear that tonight is a sold-out show.
Even though I haven’t seen Rory in the audience, my spirits lift.
Tickets for tonight are two dollars at the door. It doesn’t seem like much, but with a full house, that’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 dollars, and every penny is going toward the playground at the elementary school.
On stage, Randy lip-syncs to Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer.”
The audience is getting into it. Some people are standing up to dance, and others hold up their phones with the flashlights illuminated.
As Randy finishes, the audience cheers loudly.
I offer a high five as he returns to the backstage area. “Nice job, man.”
He returns my high five but wraps his fingers around my hand, pulling it down into a handshake.
He ends by bumping his hip against mine. “Thanks, man. Rock ’n roll.”
Chip is up next. He makes his way across the stage to the piano as Randy and I watch from behind the curtains.
He starts to play, a melody that’s somehow beautiful and haunting and also demonstrates that he’s been playing the piano for a long time.
“Hell,” Randy says. “That’s fucking amazing.”
I murmur my agreement.
“You got a talent to top that?” he asks.
I run a hand over my face. “I sure as fuck hope so, man.”
Randy sets a hand on my shoulder. “Hell, it’s all for fun. Right?”
I shrug. “In some ways.”
Randy leans forward. “And in others?”
I can’t believe I’m about to spill my guts to a sixty-something man dressed as Jon Bon Jovi. He’s wearing eyeliner.
I blow out a breath. “The whole competition thing is only one part of it. There’s a lot more riding on this.”
“Aw, hell!” He claps me on the shoulder. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Damn. Love that for you.”
I don’t answer.
Randy, though, takes that as a yes.
He leans even closer. “I’m just saying. If it’s the right woman, things will work out.”
I turn to face him as Chip’s piano solo comes to a haunting crescendo. “You think so?”
Randy shrugs. A lock of highlighted blond hair falls over his face. “Yeah. Just trust in fate or whatever.”
I nod slowly. Fate.
That could describe my relationship with Rory, I guess. But at the same time, maybe there’s more to it.
Is fate even real? Or is it just that if it’s right, you fight for it?
Chip finishes his solo and exits the stage, offering me and Randy each a high five on the way back to the dressing room.
As Lionel takes the stage next, I wonder if I’ve got it wrong. The idea of fate and single moments that dictate our lives.
Maybe, as much as some of us would all like to think, there’s no one moment in our lives that shapes everything that comes after.
There might be moments that change our path, or times that affect the way we see the world.
But there’s no one thing that can deter you from the path you’re meant to take.
If something is right for you, it’ll keep coming back.
And you’ll fight for it, no matter the cost.
So here goes nothing.