Dewey Belong Together

by Smartypants Romance

  “You haven’t eaten all day. Are your pills upsetting your stomach again?”

  “More like not having my girlfriend around is turning my stomach. And I know, lame. I should be able to function on my own but …”

  “Dude, you just left her at the airport at lunchtime. It’s now dinner. Big, complicated emotions take longer to process than the span between two meals.” Norman punctuated his words with his fork, talking around a mouthful of salad. “We’ll wrap yours up and you can eat whenever. You know I’m not civilized enough to care about proper mealtimes.”

  I nodded and sat there staring at my plate until I felt a gentle shove to my shoulder. “What was that for?”

  “For getting you out of your head. You know that’s dangerous territory right now. If you’re going to sit here and stare at your steak like it’s about to leap off your plate, you might as well leave the table and do something with yourself. Pop on a console and play Smash Bros. or go fire up Lucille and play Magecraft. Or rather, since you object to the special relationship she and I have, use my laptop and play it in the living room. I don’t care what you pick, I think doing something familiar will help you feel better.”

  I nodded, then got up from the table, making tracks for the cling wrap to put over my plate. “Since when did you become my Yoda anyway?” I asked, only half-joking. Really, since when was he the responsible one in this duo of ours?

  “I hate to break it to you, Jonathan, but I’ve always been the Yoda.”

  “No way! When you got back from overseas, I was definitely the Yoda.”

  He considered that and said, “Okay, so maybe we’ve taken turns being each other’s Yoda. That sit right with you?”

  “Yes, much better.” I stuck my plate in the fridge, and it hit me. “Wait, you Yoda’d me again! Stop using your Jedi mind tricks on me.”

  “And to think, Max told me that you totally used those same tricks on her back in Green Valley.”

  “She did?”

  “Uh-huh,” he said around a piece of half chewed up meat.

  “Okay, we are going to discuss this more after you’re done with dinner. I can’t stomach watching you talk around a hunk of cow carcass right now.”

  “What an appetizing choice of words, man. Thanks,” he continued, swallowing and belching. “I’m done. Let’s get these dishes in the washer and then we can see if our third is up for some arena.”

  I snorted. “Our third? That girl is no one’s third. She might have been gracious enough to let you take point on arena captain but that’s just it, she let you. She’s a freakin’ force of nature. Hurricane Maxine.”

  We got the last of the dishes in the washer, then he posed a question in an almost too-casual tone. “About that particular storm. What do you plan to do?”

  “Do?” I asked incredulously. “What can I do? You know I’m trapped here, Norman. I have responsibilities, commitments. Those didn’t vanish because I fell in love and then had a mixed episode. Am having, I guess. I don’t even know anymore, it’s still so hard to think clearly.” It really was. There were times when things stuck out in such vividness that I couldn’t help but become distracted by them, and others when everything felt like I was moving through a thick mist, unable to grasp seemingly simple things.

  “Well, that’s obvious, man. You can’t see the forest for the trees right now, because if you did, you’d know you were—and excuse the term—crazy to let that girl go.”

  I was stunned, literally stunned. What did he mean, let her go? No one made or let Maxine Peters, Maximus_Damage herself, do anything. Least of all me. Right?

  “I can see the status bar loading in your brain. Whatever you are chewing on, it’s wrong.”

  I shook my head and slammed the dishwasher closed. “I couldn’t keep her here forever; her life is in Tennessee. What was I supposed to do, fuck off my responsibilities here and follow her?”

  Norman banged his hand down on the counter. “Damn right you should have. And you will. I can’t handle that hangdog face any better than your mother. This is bullshit, you’ve been through hell in your own mind for years and you deserve every slice of happiness that comes your way.”

  “You’re not going to kiss me again, are you?” I asked, trying to inject some humor into a situation that was making me vastly uncomfortable. My heart rate increased, and I felt sweat begin to bead on my forehead and upper lip.

  “Whoa, dude, sit down. Now,” Norman said, pointing toward the couch. “You are shaking like a leaf. Do you need to take a pill? Or can you breathe your way out of whatever is going on?”

  “I, um, I don’t know. What is going on?” I asked as I made my way across the room and settled into the sofa.

  Norman appeared beside me with a glass of water and set it on the coffee table.

  “I have commitments here, not only to my mom and Olivia but to our business and to you. You honestly think it was easy for me not to follow her today? To stay here, knowing that I’m still sorting out the crap with my meds and my messed up brain without her? I know that I’m the one who has to fight this battle, but losing her after spending a month together, it’s like I’m missing a piece of myself. And you have the balls to straight up say I should have gone after her? I’m doing the best I can, for everyone. Including you.”

  He sat down beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I know you think you are.” He sighed, then scrubbed one hand over his face. “Look, when I got back from my deployment, I was a mess. You are the one who was there for me to put me back together, and again when my mom died. Without you, I would be lost in a liquor bottle somewhere. And I’m damn proud of the business we’ve managed to cultivate with our online business model. But don’t you see? The answer is staring you right in the face.”

  I raised my eyebrows and my mouth pressed into a firm line. “I still don’t follow.”

  “That’s okay, you’re still probably half whacked from that big dose of lorazepam you took on top of all your other pills. Let me do the math here. Our customers are online, not in our trailer parks. I have no family left here except your sorry ass which I’ve been tied to since we were playing in the sandbox as kids. I say you talk to your family about how you want your life to unfold and then we pick up stakes and relocate Supernatural Computers to Green Valley. Max might not be ready for you to live together, but we could find a rental, and maybe she would let us usurp her garage until we find a permanent workshop.”

  My head swam. Norman had handed me the biggest gift he ever could, and I was utterly gobsmacked. Move to Tennessee? Both of us? Actually be with Max, seeing her whenever I wanted … but could I expect that of Norman? All he had left of his mother was this trailer, still filled with her things like a museum. But maybe he needed a change as much as I did. “What about your place? You’ve kept it since your mom passed, are you ready to give it up?”

  “Honestly, no. I mean, I’m ready to pack up my shit and start someplace new, and I think I’m ready to donate her things. But I own this place outright, and with what I have left over from her life insurance, there’s no need for me to sell it. I’ll keep it as our Florida base. It wouldn’t be expensive to get someone around here to check up on the place for me. Maybe Olivia would do it for some spare cash. And someday I’ll be ready to sell. Believe it or not, I have thought this through. I’ve had this brewing in my mind ever since you got back from your epic weekend in Green Valley. So the real question here isn’t about me or my ability to move. It’s about you and your family.”

  I blanched. “Well, shit.”

  He leaned forward. “Yeah, about that. I was talking with Elaine the other day …”

  The familiar Skype ringtone sounded, and I double-checked my watch. Then, suddenly, her sunny face filled the screen, a smile shining at me. “Jonathan! I’m so sorry I almost missed you. I was chatting with Lois and Elsa and we lost track of time. They just left. I can’t believe I never knew them in person before.” Lois and her daughter had made the move South after all an
d were staying with Momma Rose, much to her delight. “They fit right into my life, like they always should have been here. Kind of like how I felt with you and Norman and your family.”

  “Like we always belonged together,” I finished the thought, and nodded. “That’s a nice segue into why I wanted to talk face-to-face, so to speak. Norman had this crazy idea, and I floated it by my family, and well, it turns out they already knew and they … I mean, this is a Deathdrop scheme, bear that in mind …”

  “Whoa, slow down, Jonathan. You’re talking super fast, and I can barely see your face because your hand is flying all over the place. What was Norman’s idea?”

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten, leveling out my breaths, and started over. “Max, we want to move to Green Valley and bring our business up with us. Norman and my family staged a bit of a coup behind my back and they’re all in agreement that they want us to be happy. You and me, together. For real.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide, quickly filling with tears. “When you said you’d make sacrifices to be with me, I didn’t know you meant leaving everyone and everything you know behind.”

  “I won’t be. I’m bringing Norman, remember?” That made her laugh, and I swear, I could bottle that laugh and sell it as the sound of pure joy.

  Epilogue

  Maxine

  “Games bring people together, and those people can become your friends, and your friends can become your chosen family.”

  ― Maximus_Damage

  “Is this the last box?” I hollered, unsealing packing tape from the cardboard box and smiling when I saw that it was full of books. Thank the gods for the extra shelving in the gaming room because fitting any more books into the main room of my cottage would be a violation of the laws of physics.

  “Yes!” Lois bellowed back, unpacking things in the kitchen.

  Elsa ran into the gaming room—her little six-year-old self covered in dirt from playing in the yard and garden out back—and smiled big, showing off the gap where her bottom front teeth should be. She reminded me of an adorable jack-o’-lantern, and even my mom called Elsa her little pumpkin grinner now that she’d started losing her baby teeth.

  “Mommy said to tell you that the boys are back. They’re bringing fried chicken, but Mommy is letting me have grilled cheese with tomato soup. She could always make you extra,” she said earnestly.

  Little Elsa had recently become a vegetarian after a trip to Mr. Badcock's farm to see the chicks and had become quite taken with a Plymouth Rock cock named Sampson. She’d connected the dots that the chicken people eat came from live chickens. Now she was on a crusade to recruit everyone to vegetarianism. Luckily, both Mom and Lois rolled with the punches and started cooking healthy vegetarian meals. The move from New York had been a bit hard for Lois at first, readjusting to small-town life, but Elsa was thriving, and it was nice to see Mom’s big house filled with laughter and friendship. Our entire group ate over there often, almost filling out the formal dining room table.

  I heard the front door slam shut, and I got up, extending a hand to Elsa. She took it, and we set out in search of our respective lunches. It had been a long morning of moving, but with everyone on board, we were doing well. Many hands make light work, Mom had said when she’d shocked us all by climbing into my Jeep when I’d arrived this morning to pick up Lois and Elsa. Bit by bit, Mom’s anxiety and agoraphobia had been getting so much better. Sometimes she sat on the front porch of her house. Sometimes she would walk the property, and twice she had walked with me to the library and back. One time we had made it to the Piggly Wiggly in my Jeep, but she stayed in Stiles while I did the shopping. Today she was in my home with everyone, and my heart was as full as my little cottage, now bursting with both Jonathan’s things and my own. A donation trip to Goodwill would soon be in the cards for us.

  When we entered the main room, Elsa dropped my hand to run to Jonathan, who she had taken a shine to. He scooped her up and tickled her cheek with his beard, making her shriek in delight. She was the only person other than me permitted to play with his hair. She picked up his ponytail and pet it gently while he grinned down at her. I had to admit, seeing the man I loved with a small child in his arms was giving me all kinds of feels. I had visions of babies and picnics and big group breakfasts in our future. While those things might have frightened me back in the fall when Wrath was still my nemesis and Maximus_Damage my shield, I was definitely excited about the trajectory of my life now. Those walls I had built so high around my heart came tumbling down over the seasons, and now, in this gorgeous spring, I felt like my own spirit was becoming new again.

  Jonathan whispered in Elsa’s ear and he set her down, crossing the room to me and sweeping me almost off my feet in a bear hug, followed by a kiss involving tongue—in front of my mother! I pulled away playfully, wiping my mouth and gaping at him.

  He bent over and laughed, a sound I would never take for granted, and said, “Sorry, Momma Rose! Got a bit carried away.”

  “That’s perfectly alright, dear,” she replied as she helped Lois and Norman set the table and lay out side dishes. “It’s natural to get carried away when you’re still in the honeymoon phase of a relationship.”

  “Not that there’s been an actual wedding,” I heard Norman mutter under his breath.

  I was so kicking his ass in a duel later.

  “Miss Maxine believes in cohabilation before marriage,” Elsa said from where she was seated at the table, blowing on her bowl of soup.

  “It’s cohabitation, sweetie, and where did you learn that word?” I asked suspiciously. All of a sudden, Lois was very busy dishing out chicken.

  “Who wants breast meat?” she asked the room.

  “From Mommy,” Elsa answered, looking impish.

  “You little traitor,” Lois said, patting her daughter’s head. “Kids. You confide in them, think you’ve taught them to keep their mouth shut, and then boom! Out drop the truth bombs. What can I say, she wanted to know why only Mr. Jonathan was moving in with you and not Mr. Norman too, and then she wanted to know why Mr. Jonathan was moving in when he wasn’t your husband. Then it was all about when would y’all be getting married because he told her that she could be your flower girl.”

  “Wait a sec. Lois, did you just say ‘y’all’? Y’all heard that, right?”

  “I definitely did,” Jonathan piped up.

  “I think we’ve heard enough from you for a while,” I said, shooting him a look that said “we’ll talk later” as I took my seat at the table.

  We had bought a new one—our first joint furniture purchase—when it had become glaringly obvious that six would not fit around my teeny table. Even now, we had to put in a leaf and squeeze, but it wasn’t bad. Not when you are squeezed in with the people you consider family. And to me, they were family, even Norman. I had no clue when or if Jonathan and I would make things official, but Elsa was right, I did believe in living together before tying the knot, even if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that marriage was something I wanted. I had thought Jonathan was on the same page as me, but now I wasn’t so sure, considering he was filling our little friend’s head with visions of being my flower girl.

  Was Jonathan planning to propose? What would I say if he did? A drumstick landed on my plate and I stared dumbly at the potato salad, quietly contemplating that. And when I felt a nudge to my leg and looked up to meet Jonathan’s gentle brown eyes looking into mine from across the table, I knew. Of course I would say yes. To hell with marriage maybe not being for me, he was it for me, and if he asked me to be his wife, I would gladly march down that aisle on my mother’s arm, with Elsa tossing flowers over the backyard for me to step over in bare feet. Okay, so maybe I had thought about this whole wedding noise. Just a bit.

  We all joined hands and said a short grace, then began to pass the sides around the table while my mind strayed to the last few months. Right after Thanksgiving, Jonathan and Norman had arrived in Green Valley and had immediate
ly begun converting my garage into a workshop. A plan I was happy to approve of, knowing it would mean Jonathan would be at my place every day. Even if I was at work, it gave me comfort to know that he was here. More often than not, the three of us would eat our evening meal together, and Norman would drive home to their rental, leaving Jonathan and I to tear each other’s clothes off.

  Jonathan’s switch to his new medication had been successful, and he had no further mixed episodes or episodes of mania or depression since. He kept in touch with Tom via Skype every two weeks and found a caring doctor here in town. As for me, I was still seeing my therapist. I knew that bipolar disorder was something that would never magically go away, but with careful management of both the disorder and our expectations, we could have a long, healthy life together.

  A trip to Florida to visit Jonathan’s family was on the radar for almost all of us—Mom still wasn’t ready to travel that far. Part of the deal struck between the Owen siblings was that they would all contribute something based on their respective incomes toward hiring a part-time nurse to be with Mrs. Owen when Olivia worked or wanted to socialize. Jonathan’s mother was adamant that she not be a burden on her children and only accepted the portion of the cost not covered by her husband’s life insurance. I knew Jonathan and Elaine slipped Olivia more money without their mother’s knowledge to help out. I was proud that he still had their backs, and I was touched that the whole Owen family was working to make it possible for the two of us to be together. As for Lois and Elsa, Lois had barely said the word Florida before Elsa started begging to travel down to Disney World.

  We were nearing the end of our raucous dinner when Jonathan stood, clinking his fork against his soda can. “Now that we’re all gathered here, I have something very important to say.” I felt myself stiffen. He wouldn’t! Not in front of everyone, would he? “Everyone gathered at this table is important to me. I can’t count the number of ways your friendship has helped me settle here in Tennessee. You’ve all made Norman and me feel like family, and I’m grateful. Which is why I hope you won’t take it as a sign of ingratitude that I leave y’all to do the dishes while I take my new roomie for a walk.”