The Guy on the Right (The Underdogs 1)

“Lies, all lies!” I proclaim, narrowing my eyes. “I can’t believe you did that! Such an ass. Who wins? Who does Brett end up with? NO!” I clamp my hand over his mouth. “Don’t you dare ruin it for me. Gah, I’m so going to kick your ass!”

He rips my hand from his mouth.

“Laney, I don’t think anyone has cursed a man out under the tree. It’s probably bad juju.”

“You are a pig from hell.”

“Ah,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “That’s an Ouiser line. I’m getting good at this.”

“You watched that too?”

He grins. “Yep. Twice. And all of the Madea movies.”

I grip his face in my hands. “You are forgiven.”

“I love you, crazy Laney.”

“I love you too, Grand Band Man.”

Grannism—Your grandfather told me once we were moving north, so I pulled out a map and asked him, ‘Where in Texas is that?’

One year later…

I wake to the sound of missed keys.

Something’s off. Theo rarely ever misses notes on the piano. Playing for him is like breathing. He’s already mastered another four instruments since I moved in with him after coming back from a three-month sabbatical. Hearing Theo’s third attempt, I pad down the stairs past the photos I took of the landscapes on my travels and pause at the picture of the Taj Mahal. That day gave me a real sense of clarity. As much as I missed him, I cherished my trip. The first two weeks were hard. Every day I thought of an excuse to come back home, and every day, I fought with myself to see it through. After a month, I’d grown comfortable with being uncomfortable. It didn’t hurt that my boyfriend FaceTimed me constantly, encouraging me to stick it out. Every day he ordered me to find our new favorite place so that one day we would return, and I wasn’t allowed to come home until I did. I found out a lot about myself. I’m not a fan of foreign cuisine, like at all. I prefer mountains to beaches. Cold to heat, which is unfortunate because Texas is home.

The one thing I was sure of when I boarded the plane home, is that I loved my life and was satisfied with the way things were. I didn’t need to go on some grand adventure to find myself and figure it out. I’d known all along that I loved being at the front line with the people closest to me. Being involved in their lives for the trials and triumphs. I wanted a life very much like those of my heroes. The funny thing about that is, I hadn’t realized just how much of rocks my heroes were when it came to friends and family, until I left. I wanted to be that rock for those I cared the most for.

And a good rock rarely becomes a rolling stone.

I’m still unsure of what career I want, and the cool part is, I don’t have to figure it all out anytime soon. I have my degree. It’s not going anywhere, and for now, neither are we.

At the landing at the foot of the stairs, I see the obstruction we’ve had a million fights over since he brought the baby grand home and placed it in the center of our living room.

I walk into the room where he sits poised on the bench, his graduation gown pressed and hanging in the laundry room behind him. As it turns out, I ended up being the one to wait on Theo, and my Grand Man is graduating tomorrow summa cum laude.

He dug in deep this year, focusing most of his time on his music while I’ve been busying myself at my job at the flower shop. I hunted for it when I got home from my trip and used the rest of my time to help my mom renovate Gran’s house. She joined a dating app when I moved in with Theo and started seeing someone a little younger than herself a few months ago. My mother is officially a cougar, and it’s given her a little bounce back in her step. Theo gets credit for putting most of that hopeful light back in her eyes. It’s his romantic antics that brought that side of her back to life.

Maybe most of the men in my family don’t last, but everything inside me tells me this man will go the distance.

He stops the recording again, with a “Shit. Shit.” Another false start that has me on edge. Something is definitely wrong.

And then he begins again. The now familiar, “Three, two, one,” sounding out before the recording begins.

It takes me a few seconds to place the opening to “The Luckiest” by Ben Folds and this time he’s playing along with the lyrics.

I slowly make my way toward him as he presses the pedals swaying slightly back and forth, while words fly through the living room, hitting me directly in the chest. Theo’s music might not be my taste, but it’s his language that speaks to me. When his eyes connect with mine, I can see his intent, and I’m instantly shaking with the abundant love I feel coming from the other side of the piano.

The song tells of how fortunate we are to have found each other, in this time in our lives. Of how he’s convinced his soul would recognize mine anywhere in time. Rounding the piano, I gasp when I see the small box sitting on the top of the polished wood. It’s open, a beautiful solitaire sitting below the words, Marry Me?

I lose it then, crying softly as he shakily croons to the music, pledging his heart, his life, and asking me for mine.

In his favorite plaid pajama bottoms, hair askew, eyes bright, he sings off-key along with Ben, of how much he loves me, of how perfectly we belong together. Two oddballs, who aren’t so odd when we’re together.

Years from now, when we tell our story, I know my version.

It will be about a young girl who went from hopeful to a hopeless romantic in a few notes that only her Prince Charming could play. He didn’t show up on a white horse declaring that she hops on before he gallops away. No, this prince got off his horse, fell on his ass, and stumbled in the mud with her until she could mount her own stallion. And then, in one last act of bravery, he gently trotted beside her into the unknown.