Astrid paused. “Should what? What are you talking about?”
“Maybe I should end my career.”
“Oh Dean, darling. Don’t let some crazy fuck destroy your dreams. Your journey to fame has only just begun. You have the potential to be the most successful artist of your generation. Don’t let anyone take that away from you, especially not some crackpot who likes to cut and paste letters out of a magazine to try and frighten you.”
I took a breath. “All right then, what’s option two?”
“Option two is I fly over there to at least try and monitor your safety. I’ll bring Bogdan with me. I know he may not be discreet, but if you need a bodyguard, he’ll get the job done.”
“No, you can’t—”
“Dean, darling, this is my final offer. Believe me when I tell you that today’s to-do list did not include buying a ticket to Hayseed Hollow—”
I rolled my eyes. “Mulligan’s Mill.”
“But I’m willing to pack my bags and several cans of mosquito repellent to ensure your safety.” She paused a moment. “Dean, you’re my star. You’re the light I’ve always wanted shining on my career. Every day you burn brighter and brighter. I’m not going to let anyone dim that now. I won’t let anyone hurt you or your career. Do you hear me?”
I sighed heavily, nervously, a shudder of a breath. “All right then. Thank you.”
“Darling boy, you never have to thank me. Although you could show your undying appreciation by booking me and Bogdan into the Mulligan’s Mill Hilton, or Marriott, or any five-star hotel will do just fine.”
I was silent.
Astrid groaned over the phone. “Oh my God, there’s no fucking Hilton, is there?”
“No. But there’s a very nice BnB run by Benji and Bastian.”
“How quaint,” she said flatly, clearly unimpressed. “I’ll book us on the first flight out tomorrow. See you then.”
I hung up the phone, turned around, and saw Harry still standing by his doorway.
All I wanted to do was cry.
All I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms.
All he did was say, “That sounded… bad. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but… that sounded bad. You need someone to talk to?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He smiled gently. “Come on in.”
HARRY
I thoughthe was going to cry.
I thought his legs might cave beneath him.
I wanted to rush to him and take him in my arms and lay his head against my chest and let his tears soak through my shirt. I was ready for my heart to soak up his pain.
But I was pretty sure Dean didn’t want my arms, or my chest, or my heart.
So instead, I opened the front door, juggling the gifts in my arms as I did, and gestured for him to come inside.
Dean had been inside my house only once before. He was maybe twelve or thirteen at the time, a skinny kid who had fallen off his bike on the way home from school. I happened to be driving by, so I picked him up, lifted his bike into the back of my truck, and drove him back to my place where I patched up his knee and gave him a hot chocolate before driving him home.
He was a good kid, my best friend’s kid, someone I would help and protect and care for because in a way he was family. But I saw nothing in him then other than a boy who was all skin and bones with shoes too big for his feet on account of the fact that Andy liked to buy him clothes he’d “grow into,” to save him forever buying new clothes for his constantly sprouting son.
It was long before Dean came of age.
