Gabe

I wanted to say thank you. I yelled after her. Tried to tell her how much last night meant, but she pulled away so fast I’m not sure she heard any of it. I wasn’t oblivious to the doubt in her words this morning. I know she’s regretting what happened—but not me.

Not one bit.

Last night was exactly what I needed to prove she’s all there is for me. All there ever has been. What I need to do now is figure out how to help her see it too. I climb into the cab of my truck, not entirely ready to be behind the wheel. My head aches, I can only see out of one eye, and I’m too keyed up with thoughts about Mer to go home and just…be alone.

Through the haze of a hangover I remember that from here, Christy’s old place is closer than the ranch—and with Hank living there now, I figure I can stop in and sleep it off for a while. Jack and Frank are staying with him while they’re in town anyway. Maybe they’ll be the distraction I need. With my destination set, I start the engine and take a quick look in the mirror to survey the damage. DAMN. If she took me home looking like this, she must love me, too. Right? I mean…somewhere in there.

I’ve never been a cowboy hat kind of guy. That’s Chet’s deal. An old ball cap with a deeply curved bill has always been more my speed. The kind of hat that shows a man has spent time shaping it to his liking. I reach for the one on the dash and pull it down as far as I can manage without covering my eyes. You only have to make it to Hank’s. You can do this. I shift the truck into gear and ease out of the lot, the rumble of the exhaust slow and steady.

When I stop in front of Hank’s house, Jack comes through the door holding an apple between his teeth as he raises his arms in a WTF gesture. I cut the engine and ease out of the cab. “What’s up?” I ask, shielding my eyes from the bright sun overhead and the glare reflecting off the gravel.

Jack takes the apple out of his mouth. “What’s up? That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?” He turns and yells into the house through the screen door, “Hey, I found him.” A few seconds later, Frank and Hank shuffle out to stand at Jack’s side.

“What the hell, Gabe?” There’s a snide tone in Frank’s voice. Ordinarily, I’d call him out for talking to me that way. As he was so quick to point out when I needed help with my tie, I am older than him. But this morning, I’m too weak and too distracted to bother.

“Good to see you, too. What’s got you stooges all spun up?”

“Um, maybe the fact that you disappeared last night, and no one had a clue where you were,” Frank replies, his voice curt.

I try to joke, hoping to diffuse the situation. “You seem…upset.”

Hank cocks his head. “Since when do you not at least reply to your text messages, man?”

My phone? Shit, where’s my phone? I feel around the pockets of my rented monkey suit. “I, uh, seem to have misplaced my cell phone. Why? What’d you all think? I fell off a cliff?”

“Maybe, ” Hank says. “The shape you were in. Didn’t seem like you could get very far, but then you vanished. There was no sign of you, anywhere.”

Jack takes a bite from his apple. “Where’d you get off to?”

“And how’d you get there?” Hank adds.

“Jeez. If you’re going to keep rapid firing questions at me, somebody had better start writing them down.” I put my hand to my aching head. “You see Hank, a man doesn’t kiss and tell…” I start.

Hank shakes his head in disbelief. “Bullshit. Even you couldn’t have hooked up with someone last night.”

“Nope. There’s no way,” Frank chimes in. “Not in your condition.”

“Believe what you will, boys. Believe what you will.” In my head, my next move is going to be a confident stride across the driveway past my brothers to the door. But what actually happens is that I miss my second step, stumble, and almost fall flat on my face.

Damnit. I am never drinking again.

My brothers erupt in laughter, with Frank and Jack showing pity as they come to my aid, each taking an arm to help me up the steps. Again, in my head I’d like to push them away and prove I can make it under my own steam, but given the way I feel, I’m grateful for the assistance. They aim me at the couch, but when they release my arms I pass the living room entirely and head down the hall for a bedroom. “Need sleep,” I moan. At this point, I don’t care where. I push through the first door and drop, face first, onto the bed.

* * *

I wake up face down, dress shoes dangling off the end of the mattress. I have no idea how long I’ve been asleep. I am, however, beginning to feel like I might survive. I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, thinking back on last night and trying to recall some of the murkier details.

Even though the specifics of the evening are sketchy, I feel better, like a decades-old weight has been lifted from my chest. I put my feelings out there, bared my soul to the woman I love.

But what the hell did I say, exactly? I’m still working that out.

I keep trying to remember the particulars, but the memories come in flashes and those are blurry.

We sat together in the hay, looking up at the stars.

We laughed like hyenas about…I can’t remember what.

Her lips touched mine. Soft and moist.

Did she make the first move?

But what did I say to her?

Damnit. I am seriously never drinking again.

I need to piss. I need to eat. I need to get up. I lay on the bed for another minute, willing myself to move while resisting the idea as long as I can. I stand and reach for my hat, intending to pull it low over my eyes before I head into the light of the hall, only, it isn’t on my head and I don’t see it on the bed. First my phone, now my hat? This is not my day.

I stumble into the bathroom across the hall and steady myself above the toilet. “Hank?” I call for my brother. “I need to borrow some clothes. I can’t stand to be in this getup any longer.”

Silence.

I wander back into the bedroom I had just occupied and notice the bed is properly made, except for a freshly wrinkled spot in the middle. The pillows are tucked neatly under a perfectly folded bedspread. This is not how I remember Hank’s room. Like, ever. No, this reeks of Jack—Mr. Military. I look through the closet and dresser but find nothing. Hmm. I spot a suitcase tucked in the corner and toss it onto the bed, folding back the top to look for something that might fit.

Jack and I are about the same size, but his build is leaner than mine. He’s got a runner’s body, no doubt aided by years of running a hundred miles a day, or whatever you have to do in the Army. My body is blockier, at least by comparison. Not like a weightlifter, but as I struggle to pull one of his Army gray t’s over my chest, the difference is apparent. I look like I’m ready to audition for Magic Mike. The shirt may be a little awkward, but it will do. Those shorts on the other hand? Not a chance. Not even if I only have to be outside long enough to walk from Hank’s house to my truck and from the truck to my house. Nope. They are way too tight and way too short. Not gonna happen.

I meander into the next bedroom, my curiosity stirring about where my brothers have gone. The bedspread looks like it was casually tossed across the bed. It’s draped, unevenly, over the mattress and pillows, like a last-minute thought. This is more Hank’s speed. I slide the closet door open and look around. Plenty of shirts and jeans, but Hank is shorter than me by a couple of inches. Damn. I swipe an old pair of boots and make my way into the last room, hopeful Frank might have something to offer as well. Finally, I give up and settle for a pair of khaki slacks.

Shit. I don’t even want to think about how ridiculous I look. Dress slacks, a pair of crusty old work boots so big they feel like clown shoes, and a two sizes too small t-shirt. Thank God no one is around.

My stomach churns, reminding me I need food. There’s no chance I’m stopping at Belle’s dressed like this, so I head for the kitchen to see what I can find.

There isn’t much in the way of ready to eat hangover food, but the tray of deli-meat and bread left over from the most boring bachelor party of all time will do. I load up piece after piece of roast beef and turkey breast, topped with layers of muenster, pickle, and lettuce. I slather some mayo on the top slice of bread and place it on the sandwich, a sandwich to end all sandwiches. I take a bite, stopping to savor my masterpiece. Seriously, this thing could win a ribbon, if county fairs or the like held sandwich-making competitions. Mmmm.

I sit alone at my brother’s table, enjoying my sandwich while I continue working to put the pieces of last night back together, when the front door swings open and voices enter the living room.

“Hey,” I yell from the kitchen. “Where’d you boys go?”

“Sleeping beauty finally woke up.” Hank laughs in his deep, jovial way. “Where are you, princess?”

“Kitchen,” I say around a bite of meat.

“We were out running the four-wheelers on the dirt track I made…” All three men stop dead in their tracks as they enter the kitchen. “What—in the hell—are you wearing?” Hank asks, finally finding his voice.

“Yeah, I um, borrowed some clothes. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

Jack tries not to laugh. “That’s an interesting outfit.”

“You look like an idiot. Are those my pants?” Frank asks.

“Maybe. Hey, I was going to borrow your toothbrush too, but decided you might think it crossed a line or something.” I smile. “So you’re welcome, for that.”

“Wow, man. Your boundaries are…messed up.” Frank takes a seat next to me and slides my plate over, picks up the other half of my award-winning sandwich, and takes a healthy bite.

I furrow my brow. “Dude. What the hell? I was looking forward to eating that, you know.”

“Apparently, around here we share with each other. Right?”

Damn. It’s hard to argue with a man about sharing while you’re wearing his pants.

“Whatever,” I say. “So, how was the reception?”

“Compared to the ceremony? ” Jack takes a seat at the table across from me. “Uneventful.”

I look around at my brothers. “Anyone hear from Leo yet? If I knew where my phone was, I’d be expecting an apology any time now.”

“He’s alive, ” Frank answers. “I texted him all morning. Worried he might have fallen off the same cliff you did. But, he finally responded an hour or so ago. He's planning to leave town this evening. ”

Jack sits across the table from me and leans in. “Really? Just like that? The arrogant little shit almost ruined Chet’s wedding and he’s going to take off? Did he apologize for his behavior? Or at least say he feels bad?”

“Nope. Didn’t mention it. I doubt he remembers much about yesterday. He’s a kid, man. He made a mistake. We’ve all been in that situation.” Frank takes a bite of the sandwich. “Damn, this is pretty tasty.”

Asshole.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I look at my brother, genuinely surprised. “You can’t mean that.”

Hank chimes in while digging his chirping phone from his pocket, “Give him a break man. It’s Leo, that’s just how he gets sometimes.”

“You too? Really?” I look around the room and realize only Jack shares my point of view. “You’re telling me, Jack and I are the only ones sticking up for Chet in this situation? I’m sporting a goddamned shiner thanks to Chet, but come on. Leo’s no kid. Not anymore. And yesterday was a deal breaker. I can’t believe you two don’t see that.”

Hank stares at his phone. “Hey Gabe…”

Frank interrupts, distracting me from Hank. “Look, I’m not saying what he did was okay. I’m only saying that he’s had some tough times.” Frank lowers his voice. “He’s trying to figure out who he is, and he made a mistake. He’s family. You have to forgive.”

“Gabe. You need to look at this.” Hank attempts to hand me his phone, but I’m too spun up about Frank’s bullshit excuses for Leo to drop the issue.

“Maybe—eventually. But not twenty-four hours later. No dice.” Unsettled by the irritation radiating from my gut, I push the plate away before standing to leave. “I’ve lost my appetite. I guess I’m gonna go. I don’t see this conversation going anywhere good from here.” I level a finger at Hank and Frank. “You two need to get your heads out of your asses and start seeing Leo for the man he is, not the boy he was. And don’t even think about bringing this up around Mom. The last thing we need is a full-on civil war at the ranch.”

“Damnit!” Hank yells, still holding the phone out. “Can no one fucking hear me?”

Jack takes a look at the phone and his eyes light up. “Holy shit. I think we found your phone, Gabe.”

I stop, just shy of the screen door. “Huh?”

Jack chuckles. “You might want to come look at this. You just sent Hank a text.”

Someone has my phone? I walk back to the kitchen and take the phone from Jack and see a text message from a number with the name ‘Dickhead’. I glare at Hank. “Really? That’s the name you have me in your phone as?”

Hank laughs. “Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Dickhead: I found this phone on the floorboard of my car. I’m thinking it belongs to Gabe. I don’t know how to get in touch with him, so I’m hoping you can let him know if he’s missing a phone, Meredith has it.

I tap out a reply as quickly as I can.

Hank: Hey beautiful, this is Gabe. Stole my phone so you’d have a reason to see me again huh?

Dickhead: Or maybe that’s why you left it behind?

Hank: Would have if I’d thought of it.

My brothers stare at me as I stand around chuckling, tapping out messages or waiting for her replies.

Hank: How about lunch at Belle’s tomorrow? My treat.

Dickhead: Gabe. Please, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not ready to date.

Shit. Think fast.

Hank: It’s not a date. Just two old friends meeting to return a phone. How about Belle’s? Say 1 PM?

Dickhead: It’s not a date.

Hank: Understood.

I hand the phone back to Hank and turn to leave, trying my best to hide the smile on my face. “If any of you assholes find my hat, I want it back.”

I had no idea how I was going to justify seeing Mer again. Guess some things are just meant to be. That takes care of step one. Now, how do I make her realize we belong together?