Secret Cupid

Holden

Picture this: wooden panels and toolkits sprawl across the floor like a jigsaw puzzle from hell. As the crew piles in, anticipation buzzes louder than a power drill. Yes, they're at Holden's to build but also to partake in Britt's culinary experiments—charcuterie, anyone? Expectations are as mixed as the meats and cheeses, and let's just say not every man's palate is ready for a brie encounter of the third kind. It's going to be a night filled with screws, snacks, and surprises. Let's just hope the walls stand strong and the friendships stronger. Dive in, the DIY drama awaits.

Playlist: "Building A Mystery" by Sarah McLachlan

I stand amid the wreckage of cardboard boxes, plastic wrap, Styrofoam inserts, and tiny wooden dowels scattered across the floor like confetti.

"Britt," I growl, "what have you done?"

I'm only pretend annoyed. The sight of her here in my house still enlarges my heart and crawls it up the back of my throat until I feel like I'm choking on the emotion.

"I'm getting ready for the guys to come over." Britt sits in the middle of what used to be my home gym, before I moved everything to the basement. Wood panels are everywhere. Some lean against the wall, others are piled in the corner, and still more are laid out in incomprehensible patterns. At the moment, she's bent over what I think will eventually be a desk. Parts are laid out in clusters, organized by size. It's like watching a paleontologist try to put together a full dinosaur skeleton, except that I'm pretty sure pterodactyls don't come with a manual.

I nudge the nearest panel with my toe. "The guys are coming. You have them building… I've lost count. How much furniture?"

Britt lets out a charming, deceptive laugh. "It's one tiny office."

"Is that so?" I wave my arm around the room. "It's not a tiny mess."

"It's just a few necessary things." Britt points to each pile in turn. "There's a desk, two bookshelves, a plant stand, a filing cabinet, and the tower that will hold the printer and hotspot."

I shake my head in wonder and rest my shoulder against the door. "Of course. Just the necessities." Then I mumble, "A motherfucking plant stand? That's necessary?"

She beams. "Exactly!"

I'm not going to win this argument. I'm not even sure I want to. The more comfortable Britt is in my house, the longer she's likely to stay. She's only been working for the team for two days, and she insists that it's temporary at every opportunity.

This office doesn't look temporary, though.

I feign a long-suffering sigh. "The guys are going to be hungry."

Britt scans the assembly directions and holds up a tiny screw for inspection. "Rest assured, I've got this covered."

I turn back toward the kitchen and sniff. Nothing. "Are you gonna make a roast, then?"

That finally pulls her attention away from the page. "What, like a pot roast?"

"I mean, yeah."

"Who makes a pot roast to entertain?" She wrinkles her nose in disgust.

"Literally every mom I've ever known…"

Britt swats me with the instructions. "Do I look like a mother to you?"

"You do spend an awful lot of time barefoot in my kitchen. Not that I'm complaining."

She lurches to her feet, and I fend her off with both hands. "Only because you said my stilettos are messing up your linoleum! Don't worry. I'm fixing that next week."

"What does that mean?"

She stops trying to give me a papercut with the Ikea directions. "How do you feel about hardwoods?"

"I feel like they don't make sense with a house at this price point."

"But they're so practical." Britt crosses her arms and huffs. "But I guess I could downgrade to the Luxury Vinyl floors. The things I do for you."

One eyebrow raises. "Or you could leave things the way they are. Since you're only here for a little while."

Britt rolls her shoulders up toward her ears. "Rude."

"Your words, not mine."

The front door opens. Shep doesn't bother knocking, he just plunges through the door while bellowing, "Woooooo!"

I shake my head at him. "It's not that kind of party, my dude."

Britt pops out of the office-to-be, evading the debris scattered around the floor with all the effortless grace of a cat. "Come on in, Shep. You flying solo, or did you bring your fan club tonight?"

Shep shrugs off his coat. "The puck bunnies?"

"Britt." I wave my hand across my throat. "Ixnay on the an club fay."

"Holden, you're a peach, but that's not how that goes."

"What's going on?" Shep scratches his chest. "Are you guys speaking in code?"

"Pig Latin," Britt explains.

"You speak Latin, dude?" Shep's eyes pop wide. "Holy shit, how come you never told me? Say something else."

"Uh." Britt giggles behind her hands and does not come to my rescue. I think for a moment. "Ogay Orrveille Ammserslay?"

"Wow." Shep's jaw drops. "But what does it mean?"

"Yeah, Holden." Britt smirks. "Translate for him while I go get the food ready."

The Fosters arrive a few minutes later, and then Heath. They take turns wandering around the house and commenting on all the changes with varying degrees of bewilderment and teasing.

"Food's ready!" Britt calls a few minutes later. Lured by the promise of food, the six of us head in to see what's on offer. We gather around the table and stare down at what is most definitely not a roast.

Boone extends one hand and points to a white circle on a plate. "What's that?"

"It's brie!" Britt stabs a blunt, chubby knife into the circle, which immediately begins to ooze. It looks like the blob from that old movie MST3K covered. None of us respond, and she braces her fists on her hips. "And why do I now feel like I have to warn you not to double-dip the brie?"

Bennett leans over to sniff and immediately recoils. "I won't even single dip the brie."

Shep is not put off by the texture. He studies it with all the fascination of a biologist who just stumbled across a species previously unknown to science. "What's brie?"

Unlike some people, I don't leave Britt hanging. "I read the package. It's cheese."

"I have never seen cheese like this." Shep juggles the knife. More ooze emerges from the cheese circle. "And it's warm. It's like a big, drippy cheese curd."

"At least I know what the rest of this stuff is." Heath waves to the display. "Crackers and pepperoni. Little pickles and shit… it's like a giant DIY Lunchables packet."

Britt is on the verge of cracking up. "It's charcuterie."

"No way!" Shep lunges forward and picks up a thin strip of meat. "This is made of shark?"

"What? No! It's prosciutto." She looks around at our blank expressions.

"That sounds like more Latin," Shep says.

Britt rubs her forehead. "No, it's just… it's basically bacon. It's a type of preserved pork."

Shep nods sagely. "I get it now. That's why they call it Pig Latin."

* * *

The brie tastes better than it looks, and despite our initial misgivings, we end up eating every scrap of food Britt puts out for us. Then, it's on to the assembly.

To nobody's surprise, Britt now has her own toolkit. In pink. She directs the flow of action, and despite the cramped quarters, the office comes together pretty quickly with all of us working together. Shep keeps fucking up the instructions and mixing up the parts, but once Bennett snatches the manual out of his hands, it's a breeze.

"This looks so good!" Britt squeals. She offers a round of high-fives to the group. "I can't wait to start using this space."

"It's certainly… different." Bennett crosses his arms and looks around. "Holden always struck me as a minimalist, so this is a big change for him."

I don't say anything. I have nothing against the changes she's making, but Bennett's words hit the mark. When I was alone, things were simple. I ate chili whenever I wanted, only annoyed myself with the smelly fallout, and vacuumed once a week. I also spent as little time alone in my house as possible. It was too quiet before.

Maybe the simple life wasn't what I really wanted, just what I had at the time.

Now I don't want it to be quiet again. And what happens to all of this when Britt goes?

"I think it's a big improvement," Britt counters. "The space is a lot cozier and more functional now, don't you think?"

The guys murmur their agreement.

A rumbling noise echoes off the walls of the office. Shep wraps his arms around his waist and moans. "Oh, no."

"What's wrong?" Heath asks.

"The brie. It's coming back to haunt me." A sheen of sweat builds on Shep's forehead. "I don't think it agreed with me. Cheese is my one weakness."

Brogan grabs my arm. His eyes are wild. "We gotta get him out of here. If he stays, your fancy bathroom won't stand a chance."

All of us leap into action, funneling Shep toward the door. We have never been more efficient, and I can't help but think that working together to make Britt's perfect home office come to life might also have made us stronger as a team.