August 30th 2020

Chapter 243
Their Question For History

Working evenings after a day in class was never ideal, especially with the commute to and from school, but Lucas wasn't the type to complain. There was something to be said for those variably occupied hours, walking around his section, spotting items which had been left out of place and returning them where they belonged, adjusting displays… If nothing else, it usually afforded him some time to think about some assignment or another if he had one, and he would scribble down the odd notes when he thought of something.

He was doing just that, bent over the desktop, when he caught someone approaching in his periphery. He closed his notepad and stood up straighter at once, expecting to find a customer in search of some book or another. Instead, he found something which made him smirk at once.

"Where are you going dressed like that at… eight-thirty at night?" Lucas inquired, checking the time on the computer screen next to him.

"Well, I'm going to see Mr. and Mrs. Matthews," Dylan nodded, brushing his hands over his suit in the event that there might be wrinkles. He was going to get their blessing.

"Cutting it a bit close, aren't you?" Lucas smirked. It was Thursday now, and the proposal was all of two days away.

"I had to find a time where I would be free, and Riley wouldn't, and her parents would be home," Dylan counted off, the turn in his voice showing that he was very aware of the fact that he was 'cutting it close' and he was getting nervous.

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry," Lucas lifted his hand, so his friend might breathe. "How can I help you?" he asked, slipping on his bookstore voice, as Maya would call it.

"How do I look? Is this okay? Maybe it's too much?" Dylan wondered, looking at himself again. "Do I need to get my hair cut?"

"What you need is to breathe, okay?" Lucas tried not to laugh. "You look great, I promise, you don't need to change a thing."

"Right… okay… good… good," Dylan blinked.

"You came all this way to ask me that or is there more?"

"I don't know, I guess… You were always the one who spoke the best of all of us. I don't want to mess this up, and you know me, I'm clumsy a lot of the time. I never really mind the scrapes and the bruises, and all my scars come with trying something, having fun, more than falling on my face. I don't want to fall this time, I can't. I have to get this right, for Riley.

Lucas looked at his friend, standing there in his suit, clean shaven, hair so in place that it almost made him look like another person… In his eyes, it was clear how much this meant to him, all of it.

"Why do you want to marry her?" he asked, leaning against the counter's edge. Dylan looked hesitant over the question. "Spell it out for me," Lucas insisted with a nod. 'Trust me,' it said. Dylan thought for a moment before opening his mouth to speak, and he just looked someone trying to collect what was in his heart, even as he had find a way to transform it all into words.

"Because… I love her… more than anything, more than… anyone… Because I would always choose her, no matter what, and I did choose her, for the rest of my life… if she'll have me. No one makes me happy like she does, no one… makes me feel strong like she does. If I didn't have her, I wouldn't be who I am, and I think I'm at my best now, but I can go so much further, too… with her."

When he stopped, Dylan looked back to his friend like he'd forgotten where he was or why he was there for a beat. Lucas just smiled.

"And you say you don't have the words." Dylan looked both relieved and terrified still. "Look, I get off work in less than an hour, want me to go with you? Not into the house, but I can wait outside."

"Yeah… Yeah, that might be a good idea. I'm not sure I should drive," Dylan contemplated.

"Alright, just hang around, browse… The café is still open downstairs if you need anything… On second thought, maybe stick to the books," Lucas quickly redirected his suggestions, looking at his friend in his suit. Knowing him, he just might spill something on himself.

"Yeah, okay, I'll do that… Thanks, man."

"Anytime."

Lucas watched Dylan wander off, looking at this book here, that book there… Once he was off, Lucas pulled out his phone, minding also the potential for customers, or co-workers.

Lucas: Meet me outside the Matthews' house in an hour?

Maya: Okay, but why?

Lucas: Dylan showed up at the store. He's going to ask Riley's parents for their blessing. I'm driving him.

Maya: Oh, sweet baby Dyl… How's he doing?

Lucas: He's wearing a suit.

Maya: SHOW ME.

Lucas: He's too far away, I'll try later.

Maya: You better. See you in an hour.

Maya: 366!

Lucas had barely put away his phone that he spotted a customer with some distinct 'I need help' eyes, so he went and attended him. Once he was done, finding himself once again on roving mode, he scanned the floor in search of Dylan. He finally spotted him over in the biography section. He'd been reading a lot of these lately, mostly athletes' and other sports personalities'. Right now, he had two of them under his arm even as he leafed through a third.

"The store closes in fifteen minutes, you should get down to cash in ten minutes tops, then come back up and stick with me until I can go, alright?" Lucas went and told him.

"Got it, yeah," Dylan nodded, almost dropping the books under his arm before Lucas managed to catch them. "Thanks. Maybe I should go now, before I pick up three more," he decided, adding the third book to his stack. "I think I might be a nervous buyer."

"Straight to cash, no stops, alright?" Lucas agreed, leading him toward the stairs.

"What's up with him?" Maeve asked Lucas when he returned to the information desk.

"Big night," was all he could really say. The last thing he needed was for the secret to accidentally make its way out, link to link and all the way to Riley. "I'm driving him once I'm out of here tonight."

"Oh, you can clock out now and go with him right now if you need to," Maeve offered at once. Lucas hesitated. "I mean it, go," she chuckled.

"Thanks," Lucas breathed. Under the circumstances, he could accept her offer gladly.

As he went off to clock out and grab his things, Lucas about his friend down there, fretting over what could be nothing but a courtesy. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews were not about to greet his proposal with a no. If they could count on one thing, it was the fact that Dylan Orlando loved their daughter more than life itself, that he would treat her right and be a loving husband for all the days of their lives.

The way he saw it, no one who had known Dylan for any amount of time would be in any way capable of seeing him as anything other than the kind soul he had always been. The Matthews family had known him for near on twelve years, and Lucas… Lucas had known him longer still, almost two decades. He still remembered his father bringing him and Zay out to little league practice that first time. The very first thing he had noticed was a boy with messy chin-length hair, all of seven years old and attempting to balance a baseball bat on his forehead. It kept falling, and he kept picking it up and trying again. The last attempt had been a near success and thus a harder failure, as the bat had tipped and swiped at his ear as it fell. He'd howled, slapping his hand over his ear, while another boy – later to be known as Asher – had come running to get a look.

The first time he'd actually gotten to speak to him, minutes later, he didn't hear any complaints about the incident, oh no. Instead, all he'd gotten was a gap-toothed grin and a proclamation that he would 'totally get it next time.' And that was Dylan, to this day. As to the bat trick, it had taken him a few more weeks – and a few more awkward injuries, but he had gotten that balancing trick down. He could still do it, as he'd show them upon any and all requests. By now, he could even juggle a few balls at the same time. Asher would tease that, if all else failed, he could take that act into the circus. Dylan wasn't opposed to it at all.

The one thing he could ever know to have rattled Dylan, in the whole time they had known one another, was his mother's departure. With good reason, it had affected the then nine-year-old, to have to comprehend why she would just up and leave him, his brother, and their father. Lucas could never forget that day when he'd shown up to school, hand-in-hand with his twelve-year-old brother. When Kyle Orlando had let him go, Dylan had looked near to panic for a few seconds, wouldn't let his older brother go until he promised, triple promised, that he would be back for him at the end of the day. For days, weeks, months, he'd been caught in this state of just needing to know that he wouldn't be abandoned again.

In all that time, Lucas, Zay, Asher, the three of them would do all they could to prove to their friend that no matter what happened he would not lose any of them. They did this with activity and adventure, and so many more occasions to get into some scrapes and get some scrapes, and little by little the old Dylan had returned to them, even as he carried that layer of fear in him. It never felt as though it could ever possibly be a part of him, and yet he had been made to carry it around, the day Jocelyn Orlando had walked out the door, never to return. Oh, they got cards in the mail, every birthday, every Christmas. Dylan didn't know whether his brother ever opened his. He had only ever opened one, the first. After that, he was too scared of what he'd find. He had them all in a box, Lucas knew. He couldn't bear to throw them away. She'd known when he'd moved to Houston, and back to Austin, and now to his and Riley's house. How she knew, he couldn't say. Someone could still have been in contact with her, but whoever it was, they never said, and he never asked.

It was easy to understand how much his family, the one he had and the one he intended to make, mattered to him. It was something he and Maya shared, by their unfortunate common link. For both of them, the abandonment of one parent had forced them to learn early on the fragility of that family unit, but most of all it had made them see its importance, made them eternally determined to get it right when their turn would come along to start their own. By that concept alone, the person they chose to spend their lives with became cherished unlike any other.

By the time Lucas got down to the first floor and found Dylan, his friend had just finished paying and had his books in a bag. Lucas just had the time to pull out his phone and turn on the camera, aiming and snapping the shot just as Dylan turned around. Off his confused look, Lucas smirked.

"Wife's request. Okay, let's go."

TO BE CONTINUED

See you tomorrow! - mooners