“I don’t know. I think a carefully researched website could have more detail than I could give during a talk. Or Danny could take my notes and do it,” I suggest.
I look at Danny, expecting him to be pissed that I’m hedging my bets with all this. He has every right to be. I study his face and notice that he doesn’t have a hint of the anger that he has displayed during the last few weeks in the store. He looks almost sympathetic, like he understands.
It’s Serilda who gives me an out. “I think Danny should focus on the bank. Prescott, it would be wonderful to have you speak. The community is very warm and welcoming but if you aren’t comfortable...”
Danny looks at me, his gentle eyes persuading me but not forcing me. “We’d be doing it together. It wouldn’t be like you’re speaking alone. We would be like a team,” he says. It’s easy to piss him off dusting some forgotten toy or ugly needlepoint pillow in the shop, but right now his eyes are gentle and kind. He’s giving me options and asking for my consent in a very lovely way.
“Yes,” I say. “We’ll do it together. A team.” The words just sort of waltz out of my mouth. I can’t believe I agreed to talking in front of a group, but I remind myself that it’s for a good cause and I won’t be doing it alone. I’ll be doing it with Danny.
Chapter Ten
Danny
We host the community forum in the store after shop hours. Prescott goes out to get the refreshments and I’m unfolding chairs we borrowed from Toula’s bookshop when Lizard walks in wearing her usual leather-studded motorcycle jacket. Her green hair is straight up in the air as a result of the gravity-defying hairspray that almost asphyxiated me the other day.
“Where is The Little Prince?” Lizard asks seeing that Prescott isn’t in the store.
“He went to the Honeysuckle to pick up some snacks for tonight.” I grab a chair from the stack and unfold it and Lizard goes to hang her leather jacket in the pantry. “And please don’t call him that,” I say.
“The Little Prince? Why not?” she asks walking back from the pantry. “You gave him the name anyway. I’m just using it.”
“I know. It’s just that it’s not a very nice nickname and...” I trail off. It’s not just that the nickname is mean, it’s that I don’t see Prescott in the way I did when I first met him. He cares about things deeply and he’s not the superficial pretty boy I used to think he was.
Lizard sits down in the chair I just unfolded and looks at me with her mouth wide open. “Daniel Pawel Roman, you like him!” Lizard is one of the few people who knows my full name let alone remembers every syllable of it. I’m also one of the few people who know her given name is Darlene.
“I do not like him,” I say. “Not in that way. It’s just that I don’t hate him. We’ve been working on this event together and I just want it to go well. That’s all.”
She gets up off her chair and stands directly in front of me. “You look me in the eyes and tell me you do not like him in that way.”
“Fine,” I say. I draw in a short breath and suddenly I can’t help thinking about how his eyes dance when he is talking about something he finds beautiful or how he always bites his lower lip when he’s trying to figure something out. I’m about to force myself to say the words, but I can’t seem to get them to go from my brain to my mouth. Lizard knows exactly what’s going on.
“Danny just be careful, okay?” Her tone is suddenly serious and concerned. “Don’t let him take advantage of you. Like...”
“Actually,” I say cutting her off before she can say the name of the gold-digger who humiliated me. “That’s what’s sort of funny about the whole thing. Prescott has no idea about my family.”
“That’s impossible. How could he not know? Surely he’s Googled you.”
“Do you know how many Danny Romans there are online? Anyway it sort of came up the other day and I sort of didn’t exactly tell him the truth about it. He thinks my dad works with food, not that he owns an international food conglomerate. I sort of liked not having to explain the inner workings of my family’s dynasty.”
“That’s your business, Danny. You don’t have to tell him anything. Maybe it’s not a bad thing you haven’t told this guy your family could buy the entire town with their pocket change. Maybe the entire state of Pennsylvania.”
“That’s not true at all,” I tell her. “Not the entire state. Maybe just a few of the smaller counties.” I’m proud that my family has a tradition of valuing philanthropy over profit, but still I often make jokes about the massive wealth. It helps alleviate the pressure and guilt I can’t help feeling about it. I did nothing to earn it yet it’s attached to me and a part of who I am. Maybe not telling Prescott is actually about keeping a part of myself hidden and protected. “Shh, he’s back. Not a word.”
Prescott is standing at the front door, both hands holding boxes of donuts from the Honeysuckle Bakery and Cafe. “We can’t leave him standing outside. He needs help with the door,” I say and walk right past her to grab the handle and let Prescott back in.
“Thanks,” he says, walking in and putting the treats on the table. “Hello, Lizard,” he says formally.
“Yo!” she says in the opposite tone.
Prescott carefully opens the lid on one of the boxes to reveal over a dozen freshly made doughnuts with blue-and-white icing and silver sparkly sprinkles that make them look like snowflakes.
“They’re so pretty,” I say admiring them.
Lizard looks at me and says, “Yeah, Danny definitely likes what he sees.” I give Lizard a look that lets her know she is going to be wearing these doughnuts home if she goes a step further.
“Hey, guys,” Tack says, walking in with Vince. Luckily The Hideaway is closed tonight so they can both join us. I walk over to introduce Tack to Prescott. “This is the man who created that delicious burger you had the other night.”
“Nice to meet you,” Prescott says stiffly, like the words are hard to get out. A short while ago I would have thought it was pretension and not apprehension. I’m becoming more aware of how hard it is for him to interact with people he doesn’t know well.
“You too. Vince told me you two were there on a date the other night,” Tack says.
Prescott’s face registers clear surprise but he doesn’t correct Tack. I know Tack. He’s incorrigible so I’m sure this is his way of stirring the pot. I wait for Prescott to at least make a face refuting the date label. He doesn’t so I assume he misheard it. Then he says, “You make an excellent veggie burger,” darting his eyes to the side. “We enjoyed it very much.”
We? There is a we? First he doesn’t recoil at the word date and then he uses the word we. “Please, allow me to take your coats,” Prescott says formally and gathers them in his arms before heading to the back pantry.
I walk over to Tack and smack him on the arm. Hard.
“Hey, what’s that for?” he asks throwing me that cocky farm boy smile.
“You know full well what that’s for, Tack O’Leary,” Vince says. “I’m sorry my fiancé is such a troublemaker. I’ll try to keep him in line.”
“I just want Danny to find the love of his life like we did,” Tack says, his voice still full of playfulness. Vince bends toward him and kisses him on the nose. The two of them are so sweet together that if they weren’t so nice I’d be uncontrollably jealous.
“He’s coming back. You two knock it off!” I say sharply.
“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Vince says, but they are both silent when Prescott comes back. He gives me a look like he knows we were talking about him, but he just smiles. “I have a few images I’m going to project from my laptop. Excuse me. I want to make sure everything is perfect.” Prescott ducks away to prepare his talk, I know he’s nervous but I also know he has been preparing like crazy with pages and pages of notes. I plan to speak off the top of my head about the bank, so I don’t need that muc
h preparation. I’m better greeting guests and he’s better giving the formal lecture. It feels good to complement each other’s skills in this way.
Prescott goes to his desk and opens his laptop as more people come through the door, followed by even more people after that. I greet each guest with a warm hug or friendly handshake. Occasionally I catch Prescott looking over at me like I’m diffusing a bomb. Through the shop window I see Arthur approaching with Serilda.
Arthur opens the door for Serilda and they walk through making a statement entrance as always. Serilda is wearing a red toggle coat with a huge red hood trimmed in white faux fur that perfectly frames their weathered yet well-preserved face.
“It never got this cold in Atlanta,” they say.
“Nice to see you, Serilda,” I say, kissing their cheek. “Uncle Arthur, hello. I’m so glad you’re both here.”
“Nights like this I wonder why I ever left the South,” Serilda says with a shiver. Arthur helps them take off their coat and he hands it to me. “How is your crush going on Prescott? I hope you haven’t been distracting him while he’s been researching,” they ask, pretending to whisper but definitely not whispering.
“Serilda!” I admonish them. “Please keep your voice down. I do not have a crush on him. Arthur what did you tell Serilda?”
“My dear boy,” Arthur says to me, “no one tells the charming Serilda anything. They speak their own mind.”
“Thank you, Arthur,” Serilda says giving Arthur a sly smile. The two of them have known each other for years and I’ve never thought there was anything between them, but something about that shared smile makes me think things might have changed.
“If you do not have a crush on him why do I need to keep my voice down? And do not blame this wonderful man,” they say, putting a gentle hand on his arm, making me more suspicious. “I saw it with my own eyes at the Honeysuckle. Everyone is talking about it. I heard from Toula that you two had a very romantic dinner at The Hideaway the other week. You were seen canoodling.”
“We were not!” I protest. “And I don’t even know what canoodling means.”
They squint their eyes at me and then hold up a finger with two sparkling rings on it. “If you don’t know what it means, then how do you know you weren’t doing it?”
I don’t have an answer for them so I just go to hang up their coat and grab the chairs I had kept folded and reserved for them. I make my way through the crowd and over to where Prescott is standing alone going over his notes. As soon as I am next to him he hands me his notebook.
“Here, I’ve underlined some of the most important information about the Yardley House,” he says. “Most of it is in order and I think my notes are legible. You do the talking. I can help change the slides from my laptop. That way I’ll still be a part of it.”
“I don’t know anything about the Yardley House or the Second Empire. The only empire I know is The Empire Strikes Back. You’re the expert. You know more about that old stuff than anyone.”
He looks around me to the crowd of people and I notice his leg starts jittering a bit and he bites his lip. “I know I said I could do it and that I would do it. It’s just that there are a lot of people here. A lot more than I thought we would get on such short notice. I was thinking it would maybe be single digits.”
When we first met, Prescott was mostly thunder and annoyance, but as we started to plan this event another side of him has emerged. I saw his reluctance when we met with Serilda and it made me soften toward him. I know the whole town thinks I have a crush on him but it’s not like that. We’re just working on this project and I care about saving that beautiful bank. If that means I have to help this guy, then so be it. I’m sure once the buildings are saved we will go back to being mortal enemies but right now we need to help each other. I try to think of something soothing to say. “Sure it’s a lot of people but it’s not like it’s Yankee Stadium and you need to sing the national anthem in your underwear.”
“Oh, no,” he says and covers his eyes with his hands.
That was not the thing to say.
“Let me get you some water.” They always do that on TV.
“No. No more water. I’ll float away in the middle. I’m not good speaking in front of people like this. I’m awful at it. Maybe we should revisit the web page idea. I could go home now and work on it,” he says, thinking he has found a way out.
“Prescott, come on. You’ll be great. I know it.”
“How do you know it?”
I look at him carefully. I’ve watched him in the shop talking to people and he’s wonderful—captivating in fact. Sure it takes him a while to get going but once he does and he finds his groove he’s charming. “Because I hear you in the shop all day. Like with that man who bought the telescope,” I remind him.
“That was one time and you were interested because of the alien angle.”
“True, I’m a sucker for aliens. But do you remember when we had that man in the shop the other day who wanted to know about that god-awful nautical gauge you had on the shelf?”
“You mean that piece from the USS Philadelphia. He bought it without even negotiating the price. Actually, that ship was in the First Barbary War. You know what’s interesting about that war...”
I cut him off. “Nothing,” I say. “Absolutely nothing is interesting about the Barbary Wars but I couldn’t help overhearing you talk with him. Thomas Jefferson was not playing games when he took down those ships.”
“How do you know that?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“Because the way you spoke about it was so passionate and so engaged I couldn’t help but listen and take in everything you said. You have this way of talking about the beautiful things you love that is, well, beautiful. All you have to do is focus on that. You think the Yardley House is beautiful. Don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. It’s exquisite. The railing on the window frames on the second floor alone is important enough to...”
“See, right there. That’s all you have to do. Only you can take something as boring as window doodad and make it sound interesting. You’ve got this, okay?” I look at him squarely and make sure he understands how sincere I’m being. “Also we said we were doing this together. I can’t do it without you. Not really.”
“Okay,” he says softly.
“Now I’m going to welcome everyone. Then explain a bit about the bank and why it inspires great feeling in me and then when I’m done I’ll introduce you.” Before I walk away he puts his hand on my arm and I feel his fingertips make a gentle squeeze through the thick wool of my sweater. “Danny, thank you,” he says and my insides realize I have very little chance of pretending I’m not crushing hard on Prescott J. Henderson.
Prescott
“...and so as one of the finest examples of nineteenth-century architecture representing Eastern Pennsylvania in the Second Empire style, we have a responsibility to make our voices heard and save this building from destruction. Thank you for listening.”
Everyone in the room applauds and it isn’t the polite-sounding applause you hear at the symphony; it’s rock star applause and I like it. They are riled up and excited about saving the Yardley House and while I’m always thrilled to see other people as enthused about the Second Empire as I am, it’s more than that. I’m feeling like I’m a part of something right here and now. Not something that happened in that past. That’s a new feeling. Perhaps even most importantly, I see Danny in the back of the room clapping long after everyone else has stopped. I could not have done this talk tonight without him. It was hard to admit my weaknesses, but Danny truly listened and encouraged me when he really didn’t need to. He could have taken my notes and done the whole thing without me but he wanted me to do it. He wanted me to shine.
“That was an excellent talk,” Serilda says, coming up to me as soon as I’ve finished. Arthur is right behind them.
“These developers think they can come in here and just tear down part of our community. Isn’t that right, Arthur?” they ask, tenderly grabbing Arthur’s arm.
“Yes, Serilda,” he says with a smile.
“The next step is to get the city council and the developer in a room to listen to reason.”
“And what if they don’t?” I ask. I’ve never been a part of something like this before and I’m glad people as experienced as Serilda and Danny are leading the way.
“If they don’t, we take to the streets and protest. You can’t tear down a building when the sidewalks are flooded with concerned citizens,” Serilda says. “We have a good number of people here tonight but we’ll need more. And we’ll need banners and signs...”
“We could make them here at the store,” I say.
“Totally, as soon as we close the shop this place can become poster central,” Danny adds. It feels good to be thinking the same thing at the same time.
Serilda looks at me, then Danny. “The two of you make an excellent addition to our community. A fine couple,” Serilda says as they move to the back of the room to get their coat with Arthur in tow.
All night people have been insinuating that Danny and I might be more than business partners, but it’s always hard to tell. Tack used the word date, but I figured that was simply a miscommunication. What exactly does Serilda mean by couple? Maybe it’s that weird gay thing when you use the term partners and the context is unclear. Danny and I are partners in the business sense of the word, but it could never be anything more than that. Could it?
I watch him as he helps each person with their coat and thanks them for coming. I’m too shy and awkward to do any of that so I go back to my laptop and pretend I’m looking through some notes from my talk, but the truth is I can’t take my eyes off Danny. He’s so warm and easy with each person he talks to. He doesn’t see people as an obstacle the way I do. I think he sees each person as a potential friend. Usually that type of sentiment would make me uncomfortable but watching Danny I don’t feel that way at all. It makes me want to be more like him in fact.
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