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But now that the night of the party was here, I was purely a ball of nerves.
“Oh my God,” I said, watching as Sam and Mitch emerged from the back room. They were wearing berry-red tank tops with matching fuzzy cowboy hats. “This is great.”
“Just got them in the mail yesterday,” Sam said. He spun around and I waited to see what ridiculous phrase was going to be printed on the back of the tank top. But I was surprised to see just a simple Red’s Tavern on the back, with a hand-drawn illustration of the front of the bar beneath it.
“That’s beautiful, Sam,” I said. “Not your usual style.”
“I wanted to print ones off that said Red Fucking Hot but… these are for Red. They aren’t for me. And I knew he’d appreciate this a whole lot more.”
“Incredible,” I said.
“Plenty more in the back. Come put yours on,” Mitch said. “Perry, that means you, too!” he called into the kitchen.
“Okay. I’ve tried my best to get the word out to people and make sure they didn’t tell Red or post about it online,” Sam said. “Fucking hard planning this kind of thing without using Twitter, I’ll tell you that much.”
“I hope it’s going to be worth it,” I said.
“People will start getting here in an hour, and I’m going to call Red in two hours to tell him he has to come log into the inventory computer for us. It’s happened before, when I tried to guess the wrong password too many times.”
“Perfect.”
Over the next couple of hours, I helped set up a frankly ridiculous amount of decorations that Sam had collected just for this celebration. There was red tinsel all over the walls, little drink umbrellas for every cocktail that had miniature horses on top of them, and a long red carpet that we rolled out in front of the bar.
My nerves slowly melted away as more and more people showed up. Sam tossed everyone red cowboy hats and all of the bartenders were wearing the tank tops. Red’s mom arrived, and after squeeing about the decor and calling each of us variations of “biscuit” and “buttercup,” we made sure she was decked out, too.
Once the place was packed and the music and drinks were flowing, Sam made the call to Red. It was only fifteen minutes before Mitch spotted Red’s truck driving up into the lot.
“He’s almost here!” Sam shouted, and everyone in the bar gave a holler. I stood near the bar, leaning against it, my eyes fixed at the front of the room.
The front door swung open soon after.
Red was looking down in confusion. “What is this carpet—”
“Surprise!”
Everyone in the bar shouted, holding up their drinks and then erupting into shouts, laughter and cheers.
“What?” Red said. I had never seen him so caught off guard. He was wearing a beat up old white t-shirt, ripped tight jeans, and his boots. “Mom? You’re here?”
“Hey there, hun,” she said, smiling.
“What is all this for?”
“It’s for you,” I said, shrugging. “Thought you might need something to celebrate.”
“But you’re not allowed in here unless you get these on!” Sam said, handing him a tank top and a hat.
“I’m going to assume this was your doing, Sam?” Red asked.
Sam shook his head, pointing over at me. “All him. File any complaints there.”
Red looked at me, his eyes wide for a moment.
And then he walked a few steps forward, closing the gap between us, and buried me in a tight hug. He pressed his lips to mine, right there in the center of the bar, and it was like my heart dropped out of my body entirely.
The entire bar broke out in hollers and cheers again as Red kissed me, his hands on either side of my face.
“I love you,” he said softly near my ear as he broke away.
“Oh my God!” I heard Sam shout nearby, almost as if he was about to cry.
My heart had done a 180, and now was back up somewhere in my throat.
Red had never done anything like this publicly with me. Even over the past few weeks, when we’d been spending more time together than apart, I still hadn’t known if he would be comfortable being this open about things.
“I love you so much,” I whispered back, smiling up at him. “Tonight is for you.”
“It’s for us,” he said.
He pulled back and lifted his white T-shirt off, eliciting a few more hoots from other people in the bar. He put on the red tank top and hat.
“This is the best night of my fucking life,” Sam said, his jaw hanging open as he looked at us. “I knew it. I mean, I didn’t know it, but I was hoping so bad that you two would get together. I mean really get together. It’s like a fucking gay porn fairy tale.”
