8. Wyatt
Wyatt
W as Freya going to tell me last night she was staying in town? I shake my head feeling bewildered—at least, I think that’s the right description of how I feel. I drop the large cardboard box I’m carrying to the ground.
“Good thing those aren’t fireworks,” the voice behind me jokes. I turn around and find Dylan, AKA Dyls, grinning at me, holding her own box stuffed full of decorations and other accessories needed for my master plan. “Where does this go?”
I nod, indicating the patch of grass on the slope next to the dock. “Drop it there if you don’t mind, then feel free to run if you want. I know you don’t have a lot of time to help me with this. I appreciate all you’ve done so far. You’ve been a huge help these past few days.”
“Oh, stop it.” Dylan straightens her baseball cap so the brim gives her shade from the midday sun. “I’ve got plenty of time to help you set up before I have to get to the garage.”
“Dub doesn’t have you working today, does he?”
“Nah.” She shakes her head from side to side as she kneels down next to the box and starts unpacking its contents.
“The garage is closed for the rest of the week, but Dad likes to look over the accounting ledgers each week and I like to keep him happy. Seems like I’m good at that, or at least better than you are, huh? ”
I wince as my friend mocks me. “Did you just make fun of how I’m handling things with Freya?”
“You bet I am.” She chuckles as she stands up and holds out a string of Christmas lights. “Will these work?”
“Sure will. Start draping them around the pilings on the dock if you don’t mind. I’m going to run an extension cord from the house later, so we’ll have plenty of power.”
“Roger that.”
How had I done this to myself? In my efforts to win over the girl of my dreams, I’d asked the wrong person for help.
Not that Dylan is the wrong person; in fact, she's the absolute right person for this job today. She’s also an excellent firefighter, and being Dub’s daughter, she’s got a strong will and a wicked sense of humor.
And yes, I have been spending a lot of time with Dylan the last few days, but it’s because I need her assistance. Dylan is a woman and she’s got style, two character traits that elude me. I need feminine energy if I’m going to pull off this surprise for Freya.
“So she has no idea you’re doing any of this?” Dylan’s back faces me, but I hear the laughter in her voice. Fair enough.
“She has no idea. Not one bit. In fact, I think I'm in the doghouse right now because your dad let it slip that I’ve been hanging out with you the last few days.”
Dylan winces. “Ouch. So now she thinks we’re”—she points to herself and then back at me—"together?”
I nod, then shake my head. “It’s a yes and no situation. I told her there was nothing going on, then Dub happened. And she clammed up.” I didn’t add that I’d sent her a text message earlier that was still unanswered. A first in the history of Wyatt and Freya.
“Would it help if I said something, like explaining to her we went out and it only took two dates for us to realize we’re friends?”
“I told her all of this. But she’s wary. I’ve known her for a long time, and she’s dated some turds who’ve lied to her in the past. She’s got post-traumatic dating disorder or something.” I grab a string of lights and begin looping them on the last few pilings.
“I’ve seen you do some incredible things the last few months.
You can carry your weight and then some, so based on that, I feel like you’d be great in a crisis situation—which this will escalate into if you don’t set the record straight.
” She snaps her fingers at me and points to a giant trash bag stuffed with goods by my feet.
“Now, pass me a few of those throw pillows in that bag.”
“Thanks for the encouragement. And yes, that was meant to be sarcastic.” I throw a couple of bright red and white pillows in her direction. “Who even has outdoor throw pillows?”
“I do, and this is why you’ve asked me to help you.
Makes me glad I brought a few of my old party supplies with me when I moved from LA last year.
Who would have thought it would come in handy for you when you need help with your love life?
” She rolls her eyes as she steps back to survey the dock.
It’s still light out, so we don’t have the full visual impact yet, but we both can see where my spark of an idea is finally starting to come together.
Well, my idea with the help of Dylan’s professional event planning skills.
Next to me, I hear a low whistle escape Dylan’s lips. “Not to toot my own horn, but wow. This looks great.”
I can’t disagree; she’s worked her magic and then some. Once it’s dark, this spot is going to be exactly as I need it to be, and I can’t wait to see the look on Freya’s face.
Freya has always loved the Fourth of July.
Since we were kids, we’ve spent the night of July fourth together and usually ended up here, on her grandma's dock, watching the fireworks light up the night sky. Summer has always been ours, and if I’m going to have any kind of chance to win her over and get her to see how much I care, it’s going to be tonight.
Dylan grabs her bag and car keys. “Okay, I’m outta here. You good for tonight?”
I look around and survey the scene before me. I want this to be right. I need this to be right—I’ve waited this long to speak up, so I can’t screw up in the home stretch.
I go down my list; decorations and ambiance pulled together by a real life event planner? Tick. Although, I’m sure I’ll have to help Dylan with her Intro to Heat Transfer and Fire Measurements course, which is a small price to pay.
Food basket prepared by the best chef around? Tick. Thank you, Aunt Maisey. And I’m happy to repay the favor by checking the Red Bird for any would-be fire hazards. Again, it’s a small price to pay for winning over Freya’s heart.
Playlist ready to go with some mood music later?
Tick. It hadn’t taken me too long to organize a list of songs I know she likes.
I even included some from Dirty Dancing because for some weird reason, I’ve decided that’s our movie.
I just hope Maisey will remember to turn on the speakers, and turn up the volume, at the right moment.
Now, the rest of this night…is all up to me.
Frey a
Coming home to watch the fireworks from our dock solo was not in my original action plan, but it’s certainly fitting for my current mood. Even though I wasn’t in a war, I feel defeated, and apparently defeat has a smell and I think it’s seeping out of my pores.
I open the door and find a smiling aunt jamming out and dancing to Katy Perry's “Firework” in the kitchen. Yep, Aunt Maisey is right here letting her colors burst, and loudly. To be honest, I need to laugh. The bruise may be feeling better on my chin, but the bruise of my ego is another situation altogether. Behind Maisey, I see a buffet of bad choices spread out on the counter which include, but is not limited to, a bag of Grandma Utz’s potato chips, onion dip, a giant bar of chocolate, and what looks like sundae fixings as well. Comfort foods abound.
One look at me and Maisey stops her concert for no one and turns down the music.
The woman can read me like a book. She crosses her arms, squints her eyes, and looks at me in that all-knowing way only family members can do.
“I know it was busy at the cafe today, but you’re dragging those feet like someone burst your happiness balloon. What’s going on?”
I pull out a stool at the counter and plant myself in the seat. “I made a decision about where I’m going to live, and I’m coming to terms with it.”
Maisey’s face clouds over. “Judging by the way you look, I’m thinking I’m not going to want to know where you’ll be moving to, because it won’t be here. Will it?”
“Actually, I’ve decided I am coming home.
I’m coming back to Lake Lorelei.” I shrug my shoulders, leaning into the back of the stool and making myself comfortable.
I can feel my shoulders release some of their tension, and it’s glorious.
“I wasn’t positive I wanted to come home, or that I could, but none of that matters.
I realize I need to be here. I could feel the pull of this place as soon as I walked in the house and even the first shift back with you.
New York will always be there, but time with you and the rest of the family here, that’s where I want to be right now. ”
I barely finish before Maisey swoops over, pulling me into her arms and jumping up and down. “Yay! Yay! Yay! Oh, Freya, you’ve made me so happy. You’re going to live here with me, right? Say you will because I don’t think I could have it any other way.”
“I will.” I laugh as I extract myself from her exuberant embrace. “At least for the first year, if that’s okay? I’ll pay you rent and my share of the running costs.”
She waves a hand in the air. “We’ll figure it out. I’m just thrilled our girl is coming home. So, now that’s outta the way, can you tell me what else is going on?”
I can never keep anything from this woman. “It’s Wyatt.”
“Okay, what about him?”
I fill her in on the night before. “I messed up, and I don’t have the ability to go back in time and fix a parameter I put on our friendship. I stuck us in the friend zone because I was scared to lose a friend. My best friend.”
“I swear I don’t see the problem here.”
I grunt my displeasure. “The problem is me, Maisey. I played a game and lost.”
“Sweetie, you didn’t play any games. And you surely have not lost anything.”