Chapter 13
Paxton
Pops was already dressed and waiting by the door when I came out of the bathroom. Clearly he’d been awake for a while. He had a printout in his hand with three addresses on it and little notes jotted beside each one in his handwriting.
"You printed those out downstairs? We could’ve just looked them up on the phone.”
He shook his head. "I like having paper."
"You called me old-fashioned for writing a grocery list on paper."
"That's different, and it was a joke. You ready?" He folded the printout and tucked it into his shirt pocket.
I grabbed my cap off the dresser. "Show me what you found."
He’d located a realtor through some combination of asking the front desk and striking up a conversation with a man outside the coffee shop the day before.
It was exactly the kind of networking only my pops could manage last minute since he wanted someone with access to get into the homes he thought would fit us.
The realtor’s name was Deb. She met us outside the first address at nine in the morning with a big smile and even bigger hair. I was pretty confident she knew she was getting a sale today. Pops wouldn’t have picked anything to look at if he wasn’t interested enough.
The first two houses were your average everyday place. One of them had a yard that Pops walked around twice making approving sounds at. The other had a kitchen that I could tell he was mentally furnishing.
But they were both in neighborhoods that seemed to be teeming with nosy neighbors, and after spending the last couple of days walking around Bellport, I had a pretty good idea of the kind of quiet I wanted access to.
I didn’t need people knocking on my door or watching me for their latest gossip fix if I could help it.
The third address was different from the moment we pulled up to the curb. I was ninety-nine percent sure this would be a home run for me and Pops.
It was smaller than the other two, set back from the street by a decent stretch of yard with old live oak trees lining the driveway.
The exterior was painted a faded blue-gray that gave it a bit of character.
A covered porch wrapped around the front with enough room for chairs and a small table, and there were flower boxes under two of the windows that were currently empty.
Pops looked at it without saying anything. I knew he was already falling for the place. It was only a matter of the inside matching the outside’s charm.
"It's not fancy," Deb said, tone still cheerful.
I smiled. “We don’t need fancy.”
She led us up the front walk, a knowing grin on her face. Deb knew a hole-in-one when she saw it.
The inside more than delivered on what the outside hinted at.
Everything was a little worn in, with wood floors that had some scuffs and window frames that were painted shut in most of the rooms. The ceilings were high enough that I didn't have to think about them, a fact I always appreciated.
There were three bedrooms, which was one more than we needed.
Pops would fill it with knickknacks over time.
Speaking of my pops, he went out back to inspect the yard, leaving me and Deb to walk through the rest of it without him. The man loved a good project. I had no doubt he was planning something epic for the space.
"It came available two weeks ago," Deb said as we walked. "The previous tenants were here for six years, and the ones before them nearly thirty years."
"What's the street like?"
"Quiet. Mostly working families, a few older residents. There's a retired couple next door who I am told will bring you food the first week whether you want it or not. She makes a king cake that people have driven across the parish for. You’d be silly not to take it."
I hummed, as if to agree. "Close to the stadium?"
"Twelve minutes, less if you hit the lights right."
I went back through the main bedroom, which got the morning light and was large enough to feel like a room rather than a holding cell. Then I walked back out to the porch where Pops was standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the trees.
"There's a hummingbird feeder out here," he called to me, his voice as serious as ever.
"We're not buying the hummingbird feeder."
"You don't have to buy it. It's already here." He turned around. "This is it, son."
I grinned. “Knew you’d say that. For a minute, I thought you’d fight for that second one.”
"The kitchen was too small." He walked back up to the porch and stood beside me, looking out at the place we’d call home. "This one is right. It's the right size, it's close enough but not too close, and there are trees. A man needs trees."
“Then we need to put an offer in. No leasing. I want to buy it,” I told him.
Pops clapped me on the shoulder once, satisfied, and went inside to find Deb.
I stayed on the porch for a moment and pulled out my phone.
Doyle had texted me approximately seven times since the night before, a conservative count for him.
He had graduated from asking for an update to sending increasingly dramatic single-word messages, the most recent of which just said PAXTON in all caps with no other context.
I called him instead of texting back, because I needed to hear his excitement.
He picked up before the first ring finished. "Finally! I was about to get on a plane."
"You were not," I said with a laugh.
"I was emotionally prepared to. What's happening? The last thing I heard was that you were signing and then nothing. You went completely dark. Do you know what that does to a person?"
"I signed. Everything's official. Grizzly's my agent, and I've got a spot on the Bellport team if everything goes the way it's supposed to."
There was a sound on the other end of the line. Part pterodactyl screen, part baby squall. Then Doyle said, at significant volume, "DADDY. COME HERE. COME HERE RIGHT NOW."
I held the phone away from my ear. I could hear Pierce's voice in the background, patient as he could be with his demanding boy. Then Doyle was back. "Okay. Okay, I need you to say it again because Daddy didn't hear it, and I want him to hear you say it."
Once I heard the echo to let me know I was on speakerphone, I repeated the words. "I signed with Grizzly. I'm going to be playing for Bellport."
Pierce's voice came through clearly this time. "That's great news, Paxton. We're proud of you."
"Also tell him the other part," Doyle demanded.
"There's no other part.”
"There is absolutely another part. Did something happen with Grizzly or not? Because you texted me 'things are progressing' and that means something happened."
I leaned against the porch railing. "We had lunch. Just the two of us. It was good."
"How good?"
"Good enough that I keep thinking about it," I admitted.
Doyle made another ridiculous sound. "I knew it. I told Princess Aster. I said, those two are going to be the next big thing, and he said it was too soon to tell, and I said, watch. And now look at the two of you."
"It's not a thing yet, Doyle. It's lunch." His excitement, while nice, wasn’t helping my own. If I could have it my way, then I’d be dragging Grizzly here tonight to cuddle on whatever couch they had in stock at the local furniture store. He’d be in my arms, the way he’s supposed to be.
But that was rushing it. I couldn’t let myself get too far ahead of him.
"Lunch is how it starts. Do you know how many great love stories started with lunch?” Doyle paused. “Very few, actually, most of them start with something more dramatic, but the point is, it had to start somewhere, and yours started with lunch. It's beautiful."
I laughed despite myself.
"Princess Aster wants to know everything," Doyle continued. "He's right here. Actually, he's been right here this whole time, listening. I told him to be quiet so you wouldn’t get stage fright."
I shook my head at his admission, though I was smiling ear to ear. "Hi, Princess Aster."
"Hi, Uncle Paxi. I'm so happy for you. We're all so happy. When are you coming home to pack properly before you move for real?"
“I’ll be back soon. I've got to finish finals, then graduation. The logistics will come after that.”
Doyle interjected before Princess Aster could speak again. "We're throwing you a proper going away party. It's already decided. This is not up for discussion."
"I didn't try to discuss it," I said.
"Good. Because it's happening. Now tell me, is the house nice? Do you have enough room for visitors?”
I looked out at the yard, at the old trees and the hummingbird feeder. "Yeah. It's really nice, Doyle."
We talked for another few minutes while Pops came back through and gave me a thumbs up that meant he’d found Deb and set things in motion.
The Princess Pack required a full account of the lunch.
They needed to know what Grizzly had been like, what the general atmosphere was, and how I’d presented myself.
I gave them an abbreviated version while Pops leaned against the railing with an expression that told me he was deeply entertained at the shenanigans. He’d met Princess Aster, so he understood the interrogation I faced.
By the time I got off the phone, we had a purchase agreement to review and a tentative move-in date to work toward. We also had a going-away party being planned in my honor. None of this had been on my agenda when I woke up this morning. Well, maybe the house bit. I was hopeful for that.
Pops drove us back toward the hotel taking a longer way that went past more shops and got him a look at a stretch of the waterfront he hadn't seen yet. I didn't object. I was in the mood to be driven around and look at things. It was easier to let my mind wander.
We went past a row of small specialty shops close to the downtown strip. There was a blend of books, toys, clothing, and restaurants. I watched them go by idly until one of them caught my eye.
"Stop a second," I said.
Pops slowed without questioning it and pulled into a spot half a block up. "What did you see?"
"Give me two minutes."
I got out, moving back down the shops until I found what I’d seen.
It was one of those places that sold a combination of things.
Locally made candles, a display of ceramic bowls near the front, some prints on the wall that looked handmade.
And in the corner of the display window, taking up more space than anything else in it, was a stuffed bear the size of a small child.
It was brown, with fur I knew had to be super soft.
The woman behind the counter greeted me with a nod. I returned the gesture, then made my way to the display and picked up the bear to get a sense of it. It was heavier than I expected.
What a fun surprise.
I bought it with a quick swipe of my card. Then I lugged it outside to the car, where Pops gave me a knowing look.
"It's just something I saw," I said.
"Uh huh. Sure.” He put the car in drive, thankfully not saying anything else about it.
I held the bear in my lap the rest of the way, my gaze focused out the window at Bellport going past. This was my new home. It was my future.