“Oh, womp womp, Grandpa.”
And then I give him another kiss on the cheek, just because I’m proud of him. Ben got accepted to several business schools in Seattle and Portland.
He settled on here. Right where he belongs.
“Hey, go with those girls,” I whisper. “See if they’ll let us go first.”
“On it.”
He heads off, and then is back by my side in a record two minutes. “Done. We’re up.”
“Nicely done!” I say, impressed. “I didn’t even see any of them give me the stink eye when you pointed at me.”
“Why would they give you the stink eye?” he asks innocently.
I give him a look. “You didn’t tell them I was your friend, did you? What did you tell them about me?”
“I just told them the truth.” Ben holds out a hand to help me onstage before tugging me close.
“Yeah?” I ask. “And what’s this truth?”
His kiss is sweet, as is his response:
“I told them we were best friends.”
TWO YEARS LATER
Mr. and Mrs. James Blanton
request the pleasure of your company
at the marriage of their daughter
Parker Eleanor
to
Mr. Benjamin Robert Olsen
at Seaside Lodge, Cannon Beach, Oregon
on Saturday, the Eleventh of August
at 2:30 in the afternoon.
Karaoke reception to follow.
For anyone who’s ever fallen in love with a friend.
I know firsthand that it can work out quite well. Right, Anth?
Acknowledgments
Every now and then, a story comes upon an author, seemingly out of nowhere, that absolutely must be told.
Some characters and some types of stories don’t care that the author has a million other projects already in flight. These characters and ideas don’t care that they’re not in vogue with current genre trends. Don’t care that they will cause a dozen different people (author included) to have to scramble to make them happen.
Blurred Lines and its characters are such a case. Ben and Parker came to me on a random Wednesday back in 2014, and despite the fact that I was knee-deep in existing projects, I stopped everything I was doing and started writing.