Not Fake for Long by Weston Parker
21
HARRISON
After all the talk with Keira about how incredible it was out here, I decided on Monday morning to take the week off from the Hynes Group and drove right back to the farm. There were several urgent things I would have to see to while I was there, but that was what a laptop and an internet connection were for.
There was nothing I could do at the office that I couldn’t do from the comfort of my preferred home. I’d stopped in town to stock up on groceries since it had been a spur of the moment decision and Keira and I had cleaned out what had been left in my fridge for the sandwiches.
With my laptop bag in one hand and the groceries in the other, I trudged up the steps to my door. Ashton’s voice piped up from behind me as I was pushing it open.
“What’re you doing here on a Monday?” he asked. “Did the city get evacuated or something?”
“Or something,” I mumbled. “I took the week off from the office. When I was driving back last night, I realized I was getting burnt out by all the hustle and bustle there.”
“That’s because you weren’t built for that place any more than I was,” he replied, the sound of his footsteps on the stairs letting me know that he was coming in. “Why are you still working there anyway? You keep complaining about the place and you spend every spare minute here. Are you one of those commitment-phobes or something? Too scared to commit to the farm over the city because of what you might miss out on if you’re here?”
“I just got here,” I grumbled when I set my laptop bag down on the small dining-room table that would double as my desk for the week. “Do you really have to start giving me shit before I’ve even put the cream in the fridge?”
He hummed noncommittal noise. “Giving you shit is part of my job. You didn’t happen to buy any coffee to go with that cream, did you?”
“As it happens, I did.” I walked into the kitchen and started unpacking the groceries while he plugged in the coffeemaker and got it going. “What are you doing over here? Don’t you have better things to do than hang around my house when I’m not here?”
He snorted. “I came to find that chicken snake. If you want me to, I can leave him here. We’ll see how well you do with him if you come across him before I do.”
“I’ll be fine, but I’ll help you look for him anyway,” I said. “He seems to have gotten under your skin a little bit.”
“I just have a bone to pick with him, is all,” he grumbled. Reaching for our mugs, he leaned against the counter and watched me unpack while he waited for the coffee. “You really here for the whole week?”
“Yep.” I emptied the last bag of cold stuff and moved over to the pantry to put away the last few things. “I’ve got to head back on the weekend for that wedding I’m going to with Keira, but I’m here until then.”
“Who’s Keira?” He scratched the side of his head before snapping his fingers. “Right. Right. The prissy girl who couldn’t get on the horse.”
“No, not that one.” I finished with the groceries and accepted the mug he held out to me filled with steaming liquid. “That was Hailey. It’s her wedding we’re going to, but Keira’s her sister. The one who did actually ride on the weekend she came out to learn how.”
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember.” A strangely soft, longing expression came over his wizened face when we sat down on the porch. “Believe it or not, I used to love weddings.”
“You?” My brows tugged together as I shook my head. “No way. I wouldn’t have pegged you as the romantic type.”
He scoffed. “I was the king of romance for my wife, I’ll have you know. She deserved the best any man could give her and I was the lucky one she chose to give it to her.”
A quick glance at him was all it took to know that it was still hard for him to talk about his late wife. Wanting to lighten the moment if I could to make it easier for him, I shot him a smirk. “So, you were always first on the dance floor at any wedding then, huh?”
He chuckled. “Nah. I’ve never been much of a dancer. I can spin a woman around the floor as well as the next guy, but it wasn’t the dancing we used to love at weddings. It was the ceremony.”
“The part before the party?” I slammed my hand over my heart like I was shocked. “I can’t believe it. How could you, the life of the party, have preferred the part before the party?”
A playful punch landed on my shoulder, but the look in his eyes when I turned toward him made it feel like he’d punched me in the gut instead. “You young ones see a wedding as a party nowadays. We used to enjoy the party, but it was all about the ceremony. The vows people made in front of all of their loved ones. The wife and I used to recite the vows to each other right along with the bride and groom at each wedding.”
“Didn’t that kind of steal the thunder of the wedding couple?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes at me, but they were still filled with sadness. “We didn’t do it out loud, idiot. Sometimes, when you know someone as well as we knew each other, you don’t need the words. All you need is to hold the person’s hand, look into their eyes, and give a squeeze when it’s done.”
Recognizing that maybe he didn’t want the moment to be lighter after all, I sat back and tried my best to be real about things. “I’m sorry you lost her. I can’t even imagine having something like that with someone and then having it ripped away. To be honest, I’m not even sure I’ve tried to form a connection like that with someone. Is it worth it?”
He was quiet for several long minutes, but he nodded and swiped his tongue across his lips, his eyes falling closed as if it was just too painful to keep them open. “It’s the most worthwhile thing you’ll ever do, even if it does feel like you’ll never breathe again once she’s gone.”
Neither of us said anything after that, sipping on our coffee as we left the other to his thoughts. After a while, Ashton set his empty mug down and leaned forward to prop his elbows on his knees. He rested his chin on the bridge formed by his fingers but kept his gaze staring into the distance.
“It seemed like you and that Keira girl hit it off quite well. Is that why you’re asking if it’s worth it? Do you think she might become the future Mrs. Hynes?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “She’s the first woman I’ve ever met that has made me feel like she could be, but things are complicated between us right now.”
“Complicated is just a fancy word you kids use when you’re trying to cover up your own bullshit. There ain’t nothing complicated about it. If you love her, then you be good to her and that’s about it. If she loves you back, she’ll be good to you too and you’ll be the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet to have a woman love you that way.”
“I’d never do anything but be good to her, but I fucked up early on and I’m not sure how to fix it.”
“Early on?” He let out a dry laugh. “You’ve known the woman for a little over a week, son. It is still early on. There’s nothing you could’ve done in a week that will fuck it up for good, not if you make it right and apologize like your life depends on it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but I can’t apologize right away anyway. Even if I wanted to, which I do. If I do it before the wedding, she might kick me to the curb and then she’ll get shit from her family for it.”
He gave me a long look but didn’t say anything immediately. When he did, his words were measured and careful. “I don’t know what you did, but that sounds like a lame excuse to me. If you’ll feel better telling her after the wedding, then do it. It’s only another week, but mark my words, even one more week is going to mean your apology will have to include a proper explanation.”
Before I could dodge or move out of the way, his hand came up and smacked me upside the head. “That’s for fucking up in the first place. Whatever you did, you better fucking tell her about it as soon as the wedding is over—if you’re serious about her.”
“I will,” I promised, holding my fingers over the stinging spot on my scalp. “That was really unnecessary, though.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He shrugged. “She struck me as a good woman. Good women ought to be treated well. Hell, every woman ought to be treated like a queen. You’ve already fucked up with her and you’ve only known her for a short time. Someone had to smack you and your mama ain’t around to do it.”
He rubbed his palms along his thighs, drummed his hands on them a few times, and then pushed up from the chair. “Now, are you going to help me find this chicken snake or are you just going to sit here all day?”
“I haven’t even been on the farm for an hour. That’s hardly sitting around all day,” I said but stood up anyway. “I’m coming. Just keep your panties on.”
The last vestiges of sadness disappeared when he let out a bark of laughter. “You’d be so lucky to see my panties, but I’m afraid they’re never coming off for you, son. Stop stalling. We’ve got a snake to send to its maker.”
Hunting for a snake seemed like an odd way to take his mind off missing his wife, but Ashton was like that. He was always just focused on getting on with things. I supposed there was no point dwelling on it anyway, but I also knew it would be easier said than done.
Ashton and his wife had had the real thing. Being without her was a reality he had to face for the rest of his life. I guessed that left him with many years to dwell on it if he wanted to. For now, all he seemed to want was to finally catch the damn chicken snake, so that was what I would help him do.
