The Douglas Fir
“He was educated, with a university degree; he had thick, sandy hair and come-hither hazel eyes to match. And I was pretty sure he was gay and had the hots for Noah.
Since he was the ‘close friend,’ Dave could throw an arm around Noah and elbow his side and tackle him to the ground for a ‘birthday hug.’ Close to the end of the evening, I was ready to charge over to the Douglas Fir, as if it really could make wishes come true, and wish Dave to back off and fall out of love with his friend.
... Because if it came out that Noah did swing our way, what chance did I stand against computer-whiz Dave?
The worst thing about Dave, though, was that he was just so damn nice.
“So do you do small gardening jobs as well as the large estates?” he asked me over a beer as we sat in a line at the edge of the deck, looking out into the darkened yard. Dave sat in the middle, keeping me from feeling the warm tingles that usually came with sitting close to Noah.MoreLess
Since he was the ‘close friend,’ Dave could throw an arm around Noah and elbow his side and tackle him to the ground for a ‘birthday hug.’ Close to the end of the evening, I was ready to charge over to the Douglas Fir, as if it really could make wishes come true, and wish Dave to back off and fall out of love with his friend.
... Because if it came out that Noah did swing our way, what chance did I stand against computer-whiz Dave?
The worst thing about Dave, though, was that he was just so damn nice.
“So do you do small gardening jobs as well as the large estates?” he asked me over a beer as we sat in a line at the edge of the deck, looking out into the darkened yard. Dave sat in the middle, keeping me from feeling the warm tingles that usually came with sitting close to Noah.MoreLess
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