by Rick R. Reed
He knew he would go through with it. He always had. It was a big roll of the dice, and he was pretty sure the odds were not in his favor. But it was two days. Two days with his former best friend, the light of his life gone dark, the man who would be king, so to speak, if only Matt had the nerve to try.
Now life—and reality television—was forcing him to make that attempt, whether he liked it or not. He sat down with his black coffee in his living room, staring out through the sliding glass doors opposite at the grayish early morning light pressing in.
Last night, Wally Fielding had told him how it would all go down. “We’ll collect you separately from Cody, about an hour before he gets picked up. That will give us a head start up to the cabin. This way, you can be inside when Cody arrives. Martha has already said she’ll play it coy and won’t give him any details about the man waiting for him inside the cabin.” At this point, Wally had cackled with what Matt might identify as glee. Matt himself, though, was not amused. The thought of what was coming was akin to being in a speeding car, going downhill, with no brakes. You just waited for the impact, the crunch of metal, the tinkling of broken glass, and grievous bodily harm…or death.
Yeah, he was in a great frame of mind for today. But really, after what had happened between him and Cody, how could things possibly go well?
Awkward was the best he could hope for.
He finished the coffee and saw that the light outside had morphed from gray into something golden. Patches of blue were peeking through the early morning mist.
It was going to be another beautiful summer day in the Pacific Northwest.
With a sigh, Matt rose and headed for the shower.
* * * *
They stopped in Bellingham at a supermarket. “What are we doing here?” Cody snapped at Martha.
She rolled her eyes, sitting across from him in the now-familiar van. “Provisions. You do want to eat while you’re up here, right?”
Right now, Cody thought his mood dictated that he never eat again. Dread was too weak a word to describe his frame of mind.
She pulled a list out of a voluminous red Ferragamo bag and showed him. He scanned it quickly, seeing a collection of manly foods that would look great on camera—rib eyes, corn on the cob, Yukon gold potatoes, bleu cheese, beer, and so on. The thought of such hearty fare almost made him sick.
“I can’t eat this stuff.”
Martha sighed. “What do you want, then?”
Cody shrugged. “Keep it healthy, light. Chicken. Fish. Salad stuff.”
Martha crumpled up the list and leaned forward to tell the driver, a young man who also doubled as a production assistant, “Poultry. Fish. Rabbit food. Got it?”
The young man nodded. “Got it. Be right back.”
When he left, Martha turned to Cody. “What’s with you this morning? You’re as grumpy as a bear with a sore ass.”
“That’s colorful.”
“No, really.” Martha reached out and grabbed one of his hands, squeezed it. “You’re not yourself. You seem so, so unhappy. What’s wrong?”
“You want the truth?”
“Of course I do. I can handle the truth!” She grinned. “You can tell me.”
So Cody did. He told her everything, how disappointed he was in the whole process, how he honestly just wanted everything to be done with.
“You’re not the first person to feel that way.” Martha glanced out the window and then turned back to him; their gazes connected. “I’ve seen it before. Guys get disillusioned. They come in with their hopes high, and then it doesn’t work out. How could it? This is a fantasy land we’re dealing with here.” She smiled. “I’m kidding! I’m not supposed to say that! But really, it’s usually when people are at their lowest, when they think nothing good’s ever gonna happen, that it does.”
Cody snorted. “You talking about the show? Or life?”
“I guess it could apply to life too.”
They fell silent as Rory opened the back of the van to throw in two bags of groceries. He came back around and started the van up again, looked behind him to pull out of his space.
Martha patted Cody’s hand. “Life’s full of surprises. This may go better than you think.”
“Or it may not,” Cody said.
“Or it may not. Especially if that’s your attitude on approaching something.” She lightly slugged his shoulder. “Knock it off,” she whispered.
* * * *
The little A-frame cabin was even more charming than Cody had thought it would be, despite having seen pictures. Though he knew there were other similar cabins all around, the fir trees pressing in on all sides did indeed make it seem remote, like something out of a fairy tale, one he hoped was not “Hansel and Gretel.”
They got out of the van, and Cody started to help Rory get the bags into the cabin, even though Martha told him not to. “You strain your back or something and we get sued.”
Cody just grinned at her, shouldering a trunk full of lighting equipment. “Me strong like bull.”
“Put that down. Please.”
Rory came over and relieved Cody of his burden. “Dude, if you need to, just grab one of the bags of groceries.”
Martha put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from doing just that. “Let Rory. That’s what we pay him for.” She gently turned him toward the mountain peaks in view beyond the treetops. “Breathe in that mountain air.” She took in a deep breath herself, and Cody copied her. Then she groped in her bag, pulled out a Marlboro Light, and lit up. “You need to relax. Put yourself in the right frame of mind. Don’t worry about what comes next.” She smiled and exhaled smoke through her nostrils.
It was beautiful here. The air was different from Seattle. It smelled cleaner, fresher, with an undercurrent of pine (once he managed to turn away from Martha’s pollution). It was cooler than when they had left the city in the morning, and Cody could imagine how it would be once the sun went down. Chilly. He glanced over at the fire pit and thought how great that would be, gathered close around it, a star-studded sky above him and whoever was the “candidate” for this final segment. He could imagine them opening up to one another and gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes just before one of them suggested hopping into the hot tub.
“Hey, I just thought of something. You haven’t told me anything about my prospective husband. Usually I get at least a few clues before we actually lay eyes on each other.”
Martha was silent for a minute, and Cody thought he could see the wheels turning in her head. “Well, I think you’re going to really like this one.” She gave him her best Mona Lisa smile.
“That’s a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin if I’ve ever seen one. What do you have up your sleeve, Ms. Stewart?”
“Moi? Nothing at all, I assure you.”
“Spill it.”
“Let’s let your first moment together be a surprise, okay?” Martha was all business again. “Knowing a little bit about your prospective groom hasn’t turned out quite the way you wanted it for the first two go-arounds, so why don’t we try a different tack this time, see if we get a better outcome.”
“If you say so.” Cody moved toward the cabin. “When does he get here?”
“That’s one of the surprises!” Martha said, much too cheerfully for Cody’s taste. “He’s already here.”
“What?” Cody glanced toward the A-frame, where he saw movement at one of the windows. It turned out to be Rory.
“I get it. It’s Rory, isn’t it?”
“Unless Rory has abandoned his love for big boobies, I kind of doubt it.”
“But he’s in there?”
“Yes, yes.”
Cody started striding toward the cabin. Martha grabbed his arm and yanked him back. “Just be patient.”
“I don’t want to,” Cody said in a good imitation of a petulant child.
“Well, you have to, Mister. We need to wait until the cameras get here so we can get your reaction—and his—on camera.”
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��It’s all about the show, isn’t it?” Cody asked.
“You’re just catching on to that?” Martha took his hand. “Come on. Let me show you the pool and the tennis court. They’re just around the bend.”
Cody reluctantly went with her, telling her that she was just around the bend.
* * * *
Matt watched from the side of the kitchen window. Cody looked good, like someone new. Matt put that notion down to the fact that both of them were about to be thrown into a very unusual and maybe even bizarre situation, one neither of them could have imagined. Just seeing him out there sent pangs of longing through Matt’s entire being. Gone was the recent unpleasantness that had hung in the air between them like some kind of acrid smoke.
He felt like this would be a fresh start.
Yet he couldn’t help but worry what Cody’s reaction would be when he saw that the person he was spending the weekend with was his old best friend. Would he be outraged and demand to call the whole thing off? Would he laugh at the absurdity of the notion?
Or would he like the idea, as Wally had reassured him on the drive up here? “I’m telling you, man, this is going to work out for the best. You’ll see. He’s gonna see you in a whole different light.”
“Yeah. As an asshole, a duplicitous one.”
The optimist in Matt, though, couldn’t help but hope Wally’s pep talk and Matt’s dream would come true this weekend. As he stared out the window at Cody, the guy who had always been there for him, his confidante, his best friend, and a hot, hot man to boot, a part of him was starved for things to change. He wanted to keep the friendship, renew it, and not move beyond it but incorporate it into something new and special.
He watched as the dark blue SUV he knew contained the tech equipment for the show rolled into the gravel drive. Soon they would be in here, setting up the lights and the microphones, placing them discreetly so the viewer would think it was just the two of them here in the cabin.
Matt both wished that it was only the two of them and that it wasn’t. He hoped the presence of other people around would at least cause Cody to be civil toward him when he realized what had been planned behind his back.
If this didn’t work, Matt suddenly thought, he was cutting Cody out of his life for good. It wasn’t a happy prospect but a clear one. He couldn’t bear the idea of being just friends. If it meant he had to quit his job and move to another city, then so be it.
Matt was all or nothing.
That attitude was all his heart could stand.
He leaned back in and away from the window as he saw Martha Stewart and Cody returning from wherever they had gone.
“Fingers crossed. Fingers crossed,” he whispered to himself, like a prayer.
* * * *
The cameras were in place. The lights were hung discreetly around the main living area of the cabin. A boom mic hung over the living room. Matt wrung his hands, taking a final look at himself in the mirror hanging over the fieldstone fireplace mantle. He was surprised that he looked good, handsome even. There was a glow to his cheeks, and the outfit he had chosen, a simple white V-neck T-shirt and faded jeans, looked amazing, hugging his body in all the right places.
Must be the adrenaline coursing through me. That would explain the rosy cheeks, anyway. I’m so nervous I could shit.
“Stand back, a little away from the door!” Wally told him. He was acting as director for this portion of the show. “So he doesn’t see you when he comes in.”
Matt did as he was told, finding a spot beside a distressed-appearing pine credenza. He felt like he should be getting ready to yell “surprise!” He peeked out and could see Cody approaching the front door, his face a little obscured by the frosted glass.
“Just be natural. Don’t be flat. Don’t be sharp. Be natural,” Wally Fielding coaxed in a hushed tone and then moved away to stand beside one of the cameramen.
Matt felt as though he were rushing toward something important yet didn’t know if he was hurtling toward heartbreak or a whole new beginning.
He didn’t have much time to contemplate. The doorknob made a click as Cody turned it. He opened the door, and there he stood, still for just a moment as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior after being outside in bright sunlight. He looked like an angel, backlit by the sun, dark hair shining, shoulders broad, expectant.
Matt stepped out to where he could be seen. “Hi,” he said. He was amazed at how shy he felt. After all, this was his old friend here, his best bud. He had never felt bashful around Cody before.
Cody’s mouth dropped open for a second. He looked to Matt, then to Wally Fielding, then turned, Matt supposed, to seek out Martha Stewart. But she had hightailed it away.
He turned back to Matt and smiled. “I don’t get it. Why are you here?”
Matt moved closer. “I’m him. Candidate number three. They say the third time’s the charm, right?”
Cody’s eyebrows came together in confusion. “Wait a minute! Wait a minute! What’s going on here?” There was a mixture of outrage and confusion in his voice.
“Just go with it,” Wally called from behind Matt.
Cody threw up his hands. “Matt? This is what you had planned? Has this been the strategy all along? Why?”
Matt couldn’t help it. The pain radiated deep within him, like a physical thing, an ache. Was it so terrible he was the final candidate? Was he that bad? “Isn’t the cabin great? We’ll have the whole weekend together!” He tried to infuse his words with an enthusiasm he wasn’t feeling, for the benefit of the cameras. All he really felt was terror, an abject sort of disappointment.
Cody could not have looked less pleased. He was frowning, almost grimacing.
“This is stupid,” Cody said, and then his hand flew to his mouth, as though to stuff the words back in. He looked at Matt with something worse than scorn—pity. “I don’t know if I can do this. What’s the point?”
And then he turned and stormed from the cabin.
“Shut everything down!” Wally called out. Matt stood frozen, listening as the crew shut off lights and powered down their cameras and sound equipment.
Martha Stewart came in. Matt hadn’t spent much time with the woman, but he knew the fear on her face was not her usual mien. She looked more like the ballbuster type, like nothing would faze her.
“Okay, okay. I guess we just need to regroup.” She looked at Matt. “Will you go talk to him?”
Matt felt the giddy sensation of panic. “And say what? It’s clear he doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to be with me.” He shook his head. “He’s right. This is all stupid. Why did any of us think that my turning away from him would result in anything other than creating a distance between us? Don’t you realize it’s just a distance that maybe can’t be bridged?” He sat down heavily on the couch, his head in his hands. “Can we just forget the whole thing? Run a repeat in place of this episode if you need to,” Matt said softly.
“No.” Martha Stewart was back to the take-control woman Matt supposed she was. “We will not forget the whole thing. Do you have any idea how much all of this costs?”
“I don’t care.”
She laughed. “Oh, you might care when we sue you for breach of contract.”
“So what? We’re supposed to pretend all weekend?”
“Yes. Exactly. My mother always used to tell me to fake it until I made it. It’s actually held me in good stead through most of my life. I suggest you take Mom’s advice.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“I want you to go after him. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know. This is drama. Conflict. Viewers will eat it up.” She motioned toward one of the cameramen, a compact, muscular guy with spiky bleached-blond hair and a neck tattoo who held the smallest of the three cameras they were using. “Tre, you follow Matt here, get it all recorded.”
Matt wanted to laugh. “Is this Husband Hunters or the Twilight Zone? I told you—I don’t know what to say to him.”
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“Oh, spare me the Mary Magdalene ‘I don’t know how to love him’ crap. You’re a smart guy, right? You can use your powers of persuasion, which I’m sure you have. Worst-case scenario, you talk him into coming back and pretending for the weekend. Then you two can be bitches to each other for the rest of your lives. I don’t care, just as long as you give us some footage we can use. The truth is, if you have ten minutes of air time, it’ll be a lot.” She paused. She was breathing hard. Matt saw how worked up she was getting, and he had no desire to know the full breadth of this gal’s fury. It would not be pretty.
She stomped her foot—hard—close to Matt’s own feet. He jumped back and, God help him, tittered.
“Go!” she thundered.
If Matt had ever felt there was a definitive moment in his life when he had no choice, this was it. He hurried out the door with Tre behind him, peering through his viewfinder. He rushed down the driveway and then out onto the road. Cody was ahead of him, spine stiff, practically running.
Matt could tell from his posture and speed that he was desperate to escape this situation he had been so unwittingly thrown into. He almost felt sorry for him. The poor guy. This wasn’t what he had signed on for, not at all. It was a trick. While Matt wouldn’t go so far as calling it a betrayal, it was still less than upfront.
As he hurried to catch up with Cody, he thought about how the show had used both of them, really, manipulating them like pawns for the sake of—what? Ratings? Their happiness, Matt now knew, was most likely a distant second.
Cody made a quick right, and Matt slowed to watch him disappear onto a trail that led into the woods.
A cold wind blew up, surprising Matt. He looked up to see that the light was different. He turned and saw a bank of dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Great. Was it going to storm now? Too perfect! He had heard that storms could and often did blow up quickly here near the mountain’s top, and now here was his firsthand evidence.