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It all sounds pretty stalkerish, but what can I say? I’m new at this whole being-in-love thing.
“But don’t worry, I got enough info about Sophie to know we’re still a definite go.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’re at her apartment, right?”
“Standing outside her building like a stalker as we speak.”
“Perfect.”
“You realize that you probably shouldn’t be encouraging this sad behavior, right?”
“Jude, it’s not sad when you’re putting it all on the line for the woman you love.”
“Yeah, yeah, you keep telling me that. I just hope you don’t have it all wrong.”
“I don’t,” she says, and her voice doesn’t falter. “Now, since Julie let me know that Sophie just texted that she’s done running errands but is going to call me in about thirty minutes when she’s back at her apartment to talk about my fake wedding plans, I also know that you’re exactly where you need to be, and the rooftop is ready.”
“What? How? Are you here?”
“No, Jude, but I’m just that good,” she answers through a confident laugh. “And I also had a little help from some of my friends.”
I glance around the mostly empty sidewalk, but besides an old man with a cane and a small group of teenagers near the bodega on the corner, I see zero familiar faces.
But then, when I turn on my heel to look toward Sophie’s building, one big, familiar-as-hell dude is highlighted beneath the glow of the entry lights as he comes striding out with an even bigger smile on his face.
“Uh…Win? By any chance, did you happen to have Thatch help you?” I ask her, a part of me hoping that what I’m seeing isn’t real.
“He had to pitch in last minute,” she answers. “Between an issue at Wes’s restaurant and an off-season knee injury for one of my players, I couldn’t be the one to do the setup on two hours’ notice.”
Thatcher Kelly and his wife Cassie are two of Wes and Winnie’s best friends. But Thatch is also one wild motherfucker. Frankly, the two of us are kind of kindred spirits when it comes to seeking out fun and good times.
But I’m not so sure he’s the man I want at the helm of this.
Instantly, visuals of last summer when we caught a canoe on fire while shooting off fireworks for the Fourth of July flash in my head.
God, no.
“You didn’t happen to plan a big fireworks show or anything, right?”
She cackles. “After the two of you almost lit the lake house on fire? Um, no. There’re no fireworks.”
“Jude, the man of the hour!” Thatch exclaims and walks toward me.
“Wait…is that Thatch? Is he still there?” Winnie questions in my ear.
“Hey, man,” I greet, and Winnie is now yelling.
“Oh my God, tell him he needs to leave! Now!”
“By the way, my sister says you need to leave.”
He chuckles. “Tell Winnie to cool her jets and that ole Thatcher was just making sure everything was fluffing perfect.” He winks. “Which it is. Made sure it’s extra special just for you, bud.”
Now, I’m really starting to wonder if I should be terrified that Thatcher Kelly was a part of this planning process. This is a big moment, what feels like the most important in my life, and I can’t have anything go wrong.
“You want me to hang around?” Thatch asks. “There’re plenty of places I can hide on that rooftop and make sure everything goes smoothly.”
“Tell him to leave!” Winnie shouts into the receiver. “You’re not his own personal rom-com movie!”
“Nah, man, I’m good, but I appreciate the help.” Also, please tell me “extra special” doesn’t mean you added a last-minute fireworks show or explosion or, you know, anything else that might put Sophie in too much physical danger to allow her to focus on me telling her I’m in love with her.
“Anytime, son,” he responds, completely oblivious to my current concern. “Anyway, I better head out of here before Cassie calls me again. I told her I’d be home in twenty minutes, but that was thirty minutes ago. So, yeah, if I don’t get home soon, she’ll kick me in the dick.”
I grimace.
“Love is grand, isn’t it?” he chuckles and pulls me into a tight hug. “I’m just kidding, my man. This, what you’re doing, it takes giant gonads. But I can tell you, it’s worth it. When you find the woman who makes you want to show all your fluffing cards and put your balls on the line, you do everything in your power to make her yours.”
I step back and meet his eyes. But the usual sarcasm and humor aren’t what I find. Just steady, serious, and full-on honesty.
“Anyway, son,” he continues and claps a hand onto my back. “Good luck. Although, I don’t think you’ll need it. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”
Once Thatch leaves and I end the call with Winnie, the weight that sits on my shoulders feels like a thousand pounds as I use the entry key my sister somehow managed to commandeer by what I hope weren’t illegal means, and I head inside.
