Page 17 of Hand Picked
“Just like in a…” Luke’s eyes flashed like this meant something to him. “Wait, who lived happily ever after?”
“Uh.” I frowned. “Unclear. The whole town, maybe? Or the pretty girl. Either way,friendship. Unity.”
“Right! Yeah! Okay! Awesome! So…” Luke paused, and his face crumpled. “Wait, no, I don’t understand at all. What do we do?”
“We blow the bugle on the town common,” I explained patiently. “To show that we forgive each other, and we have unity now.”
“Awwww. We have unity now.” Luke pressed his hands to his cheeks. “We sure do!”
I pushed out of the booth and reached out a hand to help him out, and then the two of us ran for the entrance like we were Aiden’s age. The place had mostly cleared out now that the game was over, and there were only a few folks sitting at the bar chatting with Van.
Luke and I got our jackets off the hooks.
“Is that the bugle?” he whispered, pointing to the plaque. “It looks old.”
I looked at it—really looked—for the first time in years. Itdidlook old, and the year 1767 etched below it confirmed this. It occurred to me that maybe, possibly Van wasn’t going to want a couple of drunk guys to take the precious bugle out into the night, even if we had the best possible intentions.
“Where ya goin’?” Van demanded. “Thought Knox was taking you both home after the meeting. It ain’t over yet.”
It wasn’t? Jesus. I was doubly glad I hadn’t gone.
“Er. He is,” I said. “But Luke and I just need to, um, do a quick thing first.” I sounded about as suave as Aiden when he was trying to get away with something—the kid was the worst liar ever—and I gave Luke a helpless look.
Van braced both hands on the bar top and watched me suspiciously. “What quick thing?”
“A historical reenactment,” Luke cut in, using his best, most official teacher voice. “Webb was telling me about the, ah… the inspiring bugle story you told him earlier—”
I nodded enthusiastically. It was funny how hearing him say my name in that uptight voice was actually kind of a thrill, now that we were on the same team.
“—and so he and I decided we would reenact the bugle blowing, to cement the change in our relationship.”
Van’s eyes were wide as saucers, and he looked at me. “You? You want to blow the bugle with…him? Alad?”
I was aware that I hadn’t been very fair to Luke until about an hour before. I’d been stubborn and even a little immature. But I regretted that. And I resented the implication that I couldn’t change my mind and offer the man friendship.
I threw my arm around Luke’s shoulders, pulling him so he stumbled drunkenly against my side with his head against my neck. “Yes, withhim. And he’s not a lad, he’s a grown man, thank you very much. I like him. And the whole town should know it.”
There. That should take care of any lingering bad feelings. Not that I thought there actuallywereany.
“And that’s why Webb and I want to be…” Luke broke off, like he was searching for the right word.
“United,” I supplied. “Hence, the Unity Bugle.”
“United,” Luke repeated, taking the bugle off the wall. “You’re so good at words, Webb.”
“Aw. Thanks.” I stood a little taller. Not a lot of people appreciated it, but I had a fucking great vocabulary.
Van’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. Hooooly shit.” He held out a hand toward a man on a stool. “Pinch me, Ravi. Webb’s being sweet to someone who’s not his kid.”
I scowled. I could be sweet!
When it was warranted.
It just… was never warranted, that’s all.
“And you two are sure you know how the bugle blowing works?” Van demanded.
Luke shot me a look of disbelief, and I snickered. How hard could it be? It was abugle. Youblewit. The instructions were right there in the action.
