Just Like Heaven 2

Author's note: You don't have to read anything else for this to make sense, but if you're a return reader (hey there!) it kind of explains where it fits in the timeline during the plot, but the start is immediately after

Too Sweet

.

Maggie

Moving into my brother's old room in what I always thought of as 'The Boy House' wasn't really in my plan. It felt like letting Teddy save me again, even if this time it was just the fact that he had his life together enough to leave a vacancy in the family he built with blood and tears that I could fill.

His old roommate and owner of the house Foster actually made me the offer. We were in the backyard of that little house, at tables decorated with paper tissue flowers and smiling people. We had just watched the shortest wedding ceremony I'd ever seen. Teddy, that big softie, had pledged his very soul to his bride Kit with tears on his face and the biggest grin.

I was sitting at a plastic picnic table with the people Teddy claimed as his family - his roommates Foster and Ira and highschool friend Ben. Our blood family hadn't been invited and I was dreading walking in the front door that night to see Mom and Dad's unearned sorrow. They knew why they weren't invited, but I would definitely still bear the brunt of their bruised feelings.

"How's the apartment hunt going?" Ira asked me. I groaned and pressed my hands to my face in reply.

"Oof, that bad?" he chuckled. His boyfriend Ben elbowed him in the ribs.

"Be nice," Ben admonished him. Ira grinned apologetically at both of us.

I smiled to myself. Those two had finally, finally found their way back to each other and it felt like reaching the climax of a slow burn romance book. They looked adorable together, as always, with Ira's sharp fashion sense contrasted to Ben's more hipster vibe. All of us knew they were soulmates years ago. It was nice to see love work out.

"Teddy's old room is free," Foz pointed out. He was the kind of guy no one would miss in a crowd. Big felt like an understatement. Foster was the tallest, broadest man I had ever met, and that was even compared to my highschool football star brother. Foster accented his natural size with an aggressive gym routine that included boxing and lifting more weight than really seemed safe. He was my favorite to drag along on nights out. No one dared to fuck with me when Foz was at my side.

"I can't afford much right now," I mumbled. "That's the problem. Mom and Dad's only costs me some emotional damage and I already have plenty of that."

"Ted's old room is literally free," Foster concluded. "Just kick in for utilities and food. When can I come move all your stuff?"

"Foz, you don't have to do that," I said, embarrassed and feeling a shameful blush creep up my face. "I'll get my feet back under me eventually."

"I did it for Ted when he wanted to go to school," Foster pointed out. "And for Ira for a bit while he got his shit together. The house is paid for. It's just upkeep and taxes, anyway."

"Hm, maybe," I sighed.

I was saved from having to talk about it any more by Teddy and Kit finally joining us to a little cheer from the small group of guests. Teddy grinned and pulled Kit to his side. She looked ready to crawl underground to escape the attention. He welcomed everyone and gave us a rundown on the timeline of the evening - namely a few coolers of beer, a feast of traditional Mexican dishes, and music.

"This is going to be our first dance song, but everyone feel free to join in," he said. "Kit's over being the center of attention."

The song that followed was a bonkers choice for a wedding song, and I can't say anyone

danced

to it, but most of Teddy's friends were punk rockers at heart. Whatever it was, it was loud and got more than half the crowd on their feet and jumping.

The music after that was a mix of the kind of music Teddy and Kit liked along with everyone's favorite wedding standbys. I stayed where I was until a guy I only kind of knew slid onto the bench next to me with a big smile.

"Maggie! Come dance with me?" he asked. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and a tailored shirt in a dusty orange color that set off the gold in his pale brown eyes.

"Mike," Foster said warningly.

Mike grinned and held up his hands nervously.

"What? I'm just asking her to dance! I'm gay as hell, it's not like I'll get handsy!" he giggled.

Foster eyed him up for a long, silent moment before he looked at me. "Don't say yes because he's pushy, Mags. I'll send him away."

"Relax, Foz," I giggled at his overprotectiveness. "We're all friends here."

"Mike and I definitely aren't friends," Foster said icily. I glanced awkwardly at Mike, but he just shrugged.

"I'll win you over one day. Maggie? I think I hear the dulcet tones of the weirdest wedding playlist in history, dance with me?"

I agreed, but I felt Foster keeping an eye on me even as Mike and I pushed into the crowd. I was almost as tall as him, so it was easy to lean in and talk.

"Why does Foz hate you?" I asked.

Mike laughed and spun me around before he answered, "So many reasons. But I grew out of most of them. I'm a respectable citizen these days."

I was going to ask more, but Teddy cut in. I thought he would dance with me, but he pushed Kit into my arms and dragged Mike off with a grin. Kit rolled her eyes and smirked up at me.

She was so short. To be fair, I was the kind of tall that sometimes intimidated insecure men, so it wasn't fair to compare us. She seemed even smaller, though, because I was in heels while she wore flats like she always did. Kit giggled and took lead to dance with me.

"I think your brother is drunk," Kit said in Spanish.

"He's so happy," I sighed. Seeing the two of them seal their happily ever after was a beautiful heartache. Every relationship I'd ever had ended badly. The last one ended with a court case. "You look so beautiful. I can't imagine a more perfect match for Teddy."

"Thanks, Teddy actually picked the dress and planned the wedding," Kit said. "I was just going to wear jeans to the courthouse." She glanced away awkwardly. Yeah, Kit didn't love compliments.

"So when are you giving me nieces and nephews?" I asked her. Kit laughed. She had finally gotten used to me teasing her.

We eventually found all the boys jumping around to some pop punk song I didn't know. Kit snagged Teddy back from the group. Ira caught my arm and pulled me with him off the floor.

"I've had enough punk bullshit," Ira said. "Want to get high behind the shed with me?"

"Yes, please!"

It was much later that night, late enough to call it early morning, after Ira put me in Teddy's old room to sleep off all the wine and pot that I realized how happy I was to sleep there. The next morning was no different. The room looked strange without Teddy's art on the walls, and it was empty except for the bed and bare bookcase, but I liked waking up there. I felt safe knowing Foster and Ira were both there. I loved knowing I could go get coffee in the kitchen without having any uncomfortable conversations.

I found Foster, Ira, and Ben in the kitchen. Ben had his own apartment, he must have stayed the night with Ira. I was wearing a tee shirt and lounge pants borrowed from Ira. The shirt was too big and the pants too short, but I was cozy and happy as I helped myself to coffee.

Foz glanced up at me from his newspaper, a real paper newspaper like some octogenarian, and raised an eyebrow.

"So, Ted's old room?" he said.

"Yeah, my new room, I think," I answered. "Thank you."

All three men grinned at me.

"We'll help you move your shit this afternoon," Foster said.

"It's just until I'm back on my feet," I added.

...

It was nearly three years later and I was happily still in that house. Ira still ostensibly lived there, but he spent most nights at Ben's apartment. I assumed they would eventually buy a place together though they didn't seem to be in any hurry. They did everything in their own way.

I had been pretty comfortably back on my feet for a while and paid my fair share around the house. I liked living there, though, and Foster was happy to have me. It was nice knowing that Teddy's found family had adopted me, as well.

I didn't like my dating situation, though, so I was trying and failing at the various dating apps. One of those ill fated apps brought me to my current predicament. Somehow, against all odds, despite the fact that I hadn't responded with so much as a nod in at least ten minutes, my date was still talking. I forced myself to tune back in enough to hear the word "crypto" and quickly zoned right back out.

I didn't even try to hide that I was looking around the bar. This place, Kingfisher, was still pretty new. It was nice, lots of exposed brick and reclaimed wood. Very classy for the small city of Monroe. Mike owned it or co-owned it. Something like that. I had chosen Kingfisher as the location for this date for both the surprisingly decent open mic events and so I had someone nearby who knew me.

"Maggie? Hello?" My date sounded irritated. To be fair, I was being pretty rude. He was boring, though, so that wasn't all on me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was trying to spot the restrooms," I said and turned a big pageant smile on him. He directed me to the clearly marked restrooms with that same annoying know-it-all tone and I quickly excused myself.

I considered texting my best friend Amelia for a rescue ring. She had all her shit together like she always had. Amelia owned a perfectly adorable little house, worked as a counselor for the disadvantaged communities of our county, and was married to the sweetest man with a baby on the way. Everything I was supposed to be at least working towards. I had none of that and no plans to get any of it any time soon.

My job was fine. It made no use of my music degree, but what was I expecting? I had fled Nashville without so much as dipping my toes in the industry and now I expected I would either settle into the office admin job I did pretty well at or go get a Masters in education and teach elementary kids to blow out eardrums on the recorder.

This date, though, this date was terrible. The apps were never kind to me and that night was no exception. I vetted the guys who matched me pretty well, but this one had hidden his wannabe finance bro personality better than most.

I lingered in the bathroom as long as I reasonably could, and then made a detour to the bar on the way back to the table with a little motion to my date that I would grab another round. I leaned on the bar where he couldn't see me and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands.

"Another round? A paloma and a Miller Light?" the bartender asked me in Spanish. He was a good bit shorter than my own six feet, with a rakish grin, dark eyes, and dark hair in a long, hipster style that he had tied up in a bun at the back of his head. I knew him. Of course I knew him. As much as we liked to call Monroe a small city, it functioned like fucking Mayberry in practice. Diego Vargas Mora graduated highschool with me in what felt like another life. We were never close, but as two of the very scant handful of Latino kids in our school and the only two who spoke fluent Spanish in our year, we were always friendly. His experience was different than mine. He was the first generation son of two very proud Costa Rican parents. I was the daughter of a second generation Mexican mother and a white father who despised that Mom had taught her children Spanish at all.

"Water for me, but I'll get him another beer," I said and slid my card over. Diego glanced over at the table where my date had his phone out.

"He seems... nice," Diego offered diplomatically. I rolled my eyes at him.

"He's full of himself and he just explained crypto to me for half an hour," I told Diego sourly. He snickered.

"You want me to make you something nonalcoholic?" Diego offered. "I can make it look like a Paloma."

"Will it cost the same as a cocktail?" I asked him doubtfully.

"For you, it costs the same as water," Diego grinned at me and was off to make the drink before I could stop him. While I waited, Mike spotted me and made a beeline to greet me.

"Maggie!" he shouted with a big smile. "Are Teddy and Kit around?"

"No, just me and the dullest man in Tennessee tonight," I told him.

Mike followed my eyes and arched an eyebrow.

"Oof, you're too hot for him," Mike said derisively. "You're always dating down."

"There's more to people than looks," I admonished him.

"Yeah, sure," Mike said and shrugged good naturedly. "But looks help when your date is boring." Diego was back to slide a tall glass of beer and a highball that definitely looked exactly like a Paloma to me.

"Buena suerte," he said with a wince.

"Gracias, Diego," I said with a chuckle as I scooped up the drinks. "See you around, Mike."

I think the guy talked through the entire open mic without realizing I wasn't listening. I tried to enjoy the show. Mike was clearly in his element on that little stage and his charisma warmed the crowd up enough to bring out the best in the hopefuls. I stared at that microphone and felt a little hungry. I remembered the applause. I remembered a room full of people happily singing along with me and my guitar while I delivered a decent enough cover of one bar special or another.

God, that had been so long ago. My ex David had allowed me to play during the early days, but he quickly throttled my bookings and showed his ass at enough bars that I wasn't invited back. My career died on the vine and I felt righteously angry about it.

The date ended eventually. I gently refused to go home with the guy. He took it as well as he took any of our other interactions in that it seemed to barely break into his consciousness. He shrugged and left without even making sure I had a way home.

Bullet dodged on that one.

Mike found me standing outside, shivering in my stupid short dress and insufficient coat, trying to get an Uber and watching my rides get canceled over and over again with a dawning knot of frustration.

"You need a ride somewhere, Maggie?" Mike asked me. I sighed and accepted his offer. He talked enough to hold up both sides of a conversation just like always. I let him babble about half the drive before I interrupted him. It always felt a little rude, but that was just what you had to do with Mike. He didn't care.

"Do you do open mics every week?" I asked.

"Every other Thursday," he said. "As long as there are enough sign ups. So far we only canceled one, but I'm pretty sure that was because it was so close to Christmas."

"Is it just a sign up list or do you have auditions?" I pressed.

"Depends on the act," Mike said. "I make comedians give me a tight five just for a content check. Musicians just sign up. I figure if you have the balls to get up there, you can have a chance to sing."

"I want to sign up," I said before I talked myself out of it. "Can I sing a song in two weeks?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!" Mike said happily. "It's three songs and off, so prep three, ok? I didn't know you did music?"

"I used to," I said quietly. I was a little unnerved now that I said it out loud.

Mike continued to talk at me, telling me some kind of story about a punk band he apparently fronted for a year or two. He really could put anyone at ease with his happy chatter. I broke into his flow of thought once more to ask about his boyfriend Max.

If it was possible, Mike brightened even more as soon as I said that name. Mike told me all about Max's farm and the new goats he had. It was truly adorable to see him fall all over himself to brag on the man he so adored.

I'm not sure how I managed to surround myself with sickeningly happy couples, but that seemed to be my lot in life. Whether it was Ames or Teddy and his friends, they were all deliriously in love.

Well, all of them except Foster, but he seemed to prefer it that way. I walked in to find him eating reheated pasta in the kitchen. He arched an eyebrow at me.

"Another dud?" he asked.

"The dudiest," I groaned and threw myself into the chair across from him. "Crypto bro."

"Hm," he grunted in sympathy.

"What about you? Weren't you going out tonight?" I asked. He didn't look like he had. He was wearing pajama pants with beer logos on them and a really ragged old gym tee shirt cut down almost to his waist.

"She canceled " he said. He didn't seem particularly upset. That didn't surprise me.

"Isn't this the one that's been following you around the gym for months?" I pressed him. Foster really didn't encourage it, but he absolutely attracted admirers of all genders. I'd seen plenty of people trail him around the gym like little ducklings. He generally ignored them unless they were especially persistent.

"Guess the reality didn't live up to the dream," he laughed. "I'm boring over text."

"You could up your text game," I suggested.

"I don't really care enough for that," he said dismissively. "There's a new guy at my office who seems nice. You want to bring me a lunch I forgot tomorrow and see if we can engineer a meet cute?"

"Oh, no," I whined and put my head down on my arms. "Am I that pathetic?"

Foster didn't answer that. I sighed and stole a curly rotini noodle off his plate with my fingers.

"You hungry?" he asked.

"No," I answered and helped myself to another bite. "Is it easier just being single? Because this sucks."

"Well," Foster pushed his plate over to me and looked around thoughtfully. "I guess it will be harder when you and Ira move on. I like having other people in the house."

"Maybe I'll be here forever," I sighed and started to finish off his meal. I had barely eaten on my boring date. "Will you marry me and pretend to be my husband when I turn thirty so my mom will stop telling me I'm an old maid?"

"I'm way too old for you," Foster chuckled. "You're what, seven years younger than Teddy? That makes me twelve years older than you."

"I'm eight years younger than Teddy. That's why you're going to be my

pretend

husband," I scoffed.

"Keep at it, Mags. You'll find someone," he told me and stood up. "And now you get to wash the dishes since you took the last bites."

"Ugh, that was tricky," I whined and waved Foster off to bed.

...

I practiced until my hands cramped, then I chugged a Gatorade and ate three of Foster's frozen smoothie bananas in some misguided attempt to overdose on potassium and kept playing. Ira tapped on my door about midway through what had to be the fiftieth play through of

Big Yellow Taxi

that night.

"How's it going?" he asked me.

I groaned and put my head down on the bed.

"Hm, right. So... Corey's going to be in town for the open mic," he started. I tried not to think about the fact that Ira and Ben not only had the perfect soulmates they found in each other, they also had their shared boyfriend Corey who openly adored them both. It had been a bit odd when they first introduced him, but Corey had such a naturally cheerful, lovable personality that he fit right in everywhere he went.

"Oh, yay! It's always nice to see Corey," I said.

"And it's kind of his first anniversary," Ira concluded.

"

Kind of

his anniversary? Just his?" I laughed. "What does that mean?"

"Well, like, Ben and I have an anniversary together, then there's one we have with Corey," Ira explained. "Like that. So it's ours, but Ben and I want to make it all about him this time."

"Right, ok. And you're telling me this because you want something, right?" I pressed. Ira grinned guiltily at me.

"Could you play

Just Like Heaven

for him?" Ira asked hopefully. "I know it's last minute. I'll understand if you can't."

"The Cure song?" I confirmed. Ira nodded. "Lucky you, I already know it. I'll play it, but you better tip me."