by Chase Connor
“Are we still fighting?” I asked innocently as I got the orange juice out of the fridge. “I’d like to know what to prepare for here.”
“I don’t know?” She grumbled. “Are we?”
I turned to her, carton of OJ in hand and just gave her a blank look.
“Fine.” She shrugged.
So, I got a glass down from the cabinet and poured some juice and then got a mug and poured myself a serving of the fresh coffee that Oma had made. I sat down at the table and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I actually had a text message—but it was just from my assistant, informing me that the shoes would arrive sometime in the afternoon. A “thank you” text got shot off, and the phone got slid back into my pocket.
I was sipping at my coffee when Oma, for once, gently set a plate down in front of me. Eggs, home fries, bacon, and a couple of fried tomatoes. Definitely trying to put the weight back on me.
“Thank you,” I stated simply.
Oma made an “mm” sound again and sat down across from me with her own plate, coffee, and juice.
“I was thinking…” I began.
“Lord help us.” She mumbled.
“Look.” I sighed. “Can you just not? I mean…you want me to try hard, so maybe you could give twenty to thirty percent yourself?”
She looked at me for a minute, then popped another bite in her mouth before gesturing for me to continue.
“You’re right.” I shrugged. “I don’t have any people I consider real friends. I don’t have any love in my life. Maybe that’s why I’m here as much as being exhausted and needing to relax and take care of myself. I didn’t really realize it until you said it. Okay?”
She nodded.
“And maybe I thought you’d give me some of the love I need,” I said gently, averting my eyes for a moment. “I know I haven’t been a great grandson, running away, barely calling or visiting—but I haven’t gone out of my way to be awful to you, either. Nothing I’ve done was to intentionally hurt you. It was thoughtless and selfish—but never once have I had the thought, ‘this will really hurt Oma,’ okay?”
She nodded again.
“So…I’d like it if we could call a truce here,” I said. “I apologize from the bottom of my heart, and I won’t run away in the middle of the night again. I’m not here to mooch or bum or anything. I just want to be here, with my grandmother, and relax and eat and just be Robert Wagner for a while. That’s all. And I hope we can use that time to become grandmother and grandson again instead of whatever we’ve been doing. Is that all right?”
“I suppose.” She cocked an eyebrow at me. “I’m just pissed off.”
“I understand.”
“I love the Hell out of you, Robbie.” She sighed. “But you’ve been a complete fuckin’ asshole for a good decade now.”
I held my hands out helplessly.
“I can’t take it back.”
She sighed again.
“Fine.” She nodded and went back to eating. “I’ll do my best to not be so mean. But I need you to do something for me.”
“Who needs shoes now?” I teased, rolling my eyes as I picked up my fork.
She actually laughed.
“Barkley said my garden auger is in.” She explained. “Will you go pick it up for me? I got some things to do around here this morning.”
She looked me over.
“Maybe you could pick up some new outfits while you’re out?” She snorted.
“I’m going to let that comment go.” I chuckled. “But, yeah, I can go pick it up for you, Oma.”
“It’s paid for, don’t you let that sonofabitch charge you a goddamn red cent, either.” She said forcefully, jabbing her fork at me.
“Carlos’ shoes are supposed to arrive this afternoon,” I said. “If I’m out for too long, will you watch for them?”
She just squealed with delight. I took that as a “yes.”
After breakfast was done and we had washed up the dishes and pans, I went upstairs to grab my keys and wallet. Oma said her “goodbyes” to me as I left through the front door, grabbing the Carhartt coat on the way. I drove into Point Worth proper, hoping that I wouldn’t forget where Barkley’s was. Not that that was likely, but if it was possible, I’d do it. And that would just provide Oma with one more thing to rib me about.
However, ten minutes later, I was pulling around the back lot of Barkley’s and parking my car, praising God for not letting me do something stupid like getting lost. When I entered the garden center, I immediately noticed a guy in a Carhartt, his back to me, restocking some of the shelves with bags of fertilizer. The familiar ballcap made me cringe internally. Biting my tongue, I walked over to Lucas, affixing a smile to my face.
“Lucas?” I asked as I stepped up behind him.
Lucas smiled widely and turned to find out who was addressing him. His eyes connected with mine for a split second. The color of gilded jade. Then he was looking down, averting his gaze from mine.
“Rob.” He said simply. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Oma said that Mr. Barkley had her…auger…I think she said…in and it needed to be picked up?”
He chewed at his lip. “Yeah, I think I heard him saying something about that.”
“Where do I go to get it?” I asked.
I motioned towards the sliding glass doors, questioning.
“I can get it for you, Rob.” He nodded, his eyes still downcast. “Um, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, thanks, Lucas.” I did my best to smile.
He nodded again and dashed away towards the store. I frowned to myself as he disappeared into the interior of the store. When he came back out, I was going to grab him by the arms and shake him and growl “Look at me!” Then I remembered Oma. I swallowed my frustration at someone acting so strangely. He wasn’t strange—he was just shy around me. I would do my best to be nice to Lucas—even if it drove me insane.
Moments later, the sliding doors ‘whooshed’ open again, and Lucas came walking towards me, an auger in hand. It looked like a giant drill, the length of a shovel, with a dual handle at one end. His eyes were still downcast, but he came right up to me and held it out, like an offering. I took it from him with a smile and looked it over.
“I don’t even want to know what she’s planning to do with this.” I chuckled.
“Um, it makes quick holes for planting seeds deeply or for planting seedlings when it’s time.” He mumbled.
“Well, at least I know that I’m probably safe then,” I said.
“You never know with Mrs. Wagner.” I could see his smile underneath the bill of his ballcap.
I chewed at my lip. I’d already apologized to one person today, what was one more? My ego could take the hit, I supposed.
“Lucas, I wanted to apologize,” I said.
He looked up for a split second, then down again.
“I was rude yesterday,” I said. “It was unintentional, but that’s beside the point. So, I’m sorry if I was rude or hurt your feelings yesterday.”
He gave a small cough, and his body language let on that he was uncomfortable.
“Oma might have pointed that out to me, so…I wanted you to know that if I did anything rude, it was unintentional, but I’m owning up to it and apologizing.” I finished.
“You weren’t rude.” He shook his head.
I smiled. “Well, regardless, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you’re forgiven.” He spoke from under his cap.
“Thank you,” I said.
Before I knew what I was doing—maybe it was from being so apologetic all morning and trying to do the right thing—my mouth kept moving.
“I’m supposed to get some less fancy clothes while I’m out to appease Oma,” I said. “So I don’t stick out so much. Would you like to have a cup of coffee or something? Then you could tell me where the best place to go in town is for some clothes. Make me look like a local.”
Lucas’ feet shuffled a bit as he stood there,
unsure how to answer. I realized that some gay celebrity asking out a country boy in a feed store was how this was probably being taken. Immediately, I regretted being so nonchalant and insouciant.
“I’m sorry.” I chuckled like an idiot. “That probably came out weird or something and…”
“No.” He interjected quickly, but only glanced up briefly. “It’s just that I’m working and…”
“Oh, of course.” I shook my head with a smile.
“But I could take a break for a coffee.” He nodded, still looking down. “Grandpa probably won’t mind. Then I could give you directions to a decent store.”
“Okay,” I said. “That sounds great.”
“Um, why don’t I meet you down at the Sunny Side Up Café?” He gestured vaguely. “I’ll head down after I let my grandfather know I’m taking a break.”
I gave him a nod and headed to my car with the auger in tow. Mentally slapping myself upside the head the whole way. Why did I have to invite the world’s weirdest and quietest vegetarian to have a coffee just so that I could make up for rudeness? My very slight rudeness. I tried to just push it out of my head—we were having coffee, and that was that. I’d made my bed. I somehow found a way to put the auger diagonally in the trunk of my car so that it would fit and hopped into the driver’s seat.
Minutes later, I was sitting in a booth at the Sunny Side Up Café, waiting on Lucas to show up. The same waitress that had served Oma and me was working and the place was virtually empty again. I was starting to get an idea about the café. More than likely, locals hit the café up for a quick breakfast before work. Then the lunch rush probably happened between 11 and 2, then they closed down for the day. The times between breakfast and lunch were probably pretty slow, only a few stragglers showing up here and there. That was perfect, as far as I was concerned.
The waitress had brought me a cup of coffee and was setting it down by the time Lucas walked in the door, his head going down as soon as I looked over. The waitress hollered out to him and went over to give him a quick hug before he was allowed to come and sit down. She told him that she was going to go get him a cup of coffee when she let go of him and he finally walked over to the booth. He slid in across from me, undoing his coat and letting it fall down behind him in his seat.
“Girlfriend?” I smiled over the lip of my mug before taking a sip.
“Who?” He frowned.
“The waitress.” I nodded in her direction.
“No.” He shook his head. “Just a friend. She was a few years behind us in school. She became a freshman the year after I graduated. Jill Bryant?”
I smiled sheepishly and shrugged.
He nodded.
This was going great.
“Here ya’ go, Lucas.” The waitress, whose name I now knew, showed up and put a mug in front of my coffee partner.
“Jill, you remember Rob, don’t you?” Lucas finally looked up and nodded at me, then looked back down.
“You were in here with Esther Jean the other day, weren’t you?” She smiled. “Mrs. Wagner?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Lucas said we just missed being in high school with you.”
Lucas missed being in high school with her due to his age. I missed being in high school with her due to running away.
“Well, I don’t remember you from school.” She chuckled. “But I remember you were with Esther Jean, so I guess that’s good enough.”
She offered her hand, so I shook it, properly introducing myself. I’d been polite as Hell to two strangers in Point Worth—Oma would surely be pleased.
“You look so familiar, though.” Jill looked thoughtful as we pulled away from the handshake.
I shrugged.
Lucas perked up as if to say something, then stopped himself.
“It’ll come to me.” Jill shook her head with a giggle. “I have a horrible memory.”
“Join the club.” I shrugged goofily again.
“Well, you guys just holler if you need refills.” She winked at us and walked away to other things.
I waited until she was out of earshot.
“Thanks for not telling her…about me.” I said.
“I figured you were probably keeping that quiet.”
“Trying to.” I nodded. “So, I have to be honest. I kind of have an ulterior motive for inviting you here.”
That got Lucas’ attention. He looked up, and his eyes actually met mine and stayed here. Gilded jade was definitely the best description for the eyes that peeked out from under the bill of his ballcap.
“Besides apologizing,” I made a checkmark motion in the air, “I wanted to tell you that you can actually look me in the eyes and talk. I’m not…special. I’m not fancy, no matter what Oma says. You don’t have to be…shy…or anything.”
Lucas blushed and looked down. It was endearing. Maybe Lucas could be a friend. Oma was right. He wasn’t weird. Just shy.
“I’ve never been around a celebrity.” He mumbled, looking down, then forced himself to look up.
“Well, we went to high school together, so…”
He chuckled finally.
“Look,” I leaned in conspiratorially, “I don’t really have…I don’t really have a lot of friends around here. So, if you could take it easy on me and treat me like I’m no big deal—which I’m not—I would consider it a personal favor.”
“I’m sorry, Jac—Rob.” He blushed deeper but managed to keep his eyes on mine. “Sorry. I just…see Jacob Michaels when I look at you.”
He said the last sentence in a hushed tone.
“It’s okay.” I nodded. “But…try not to?”
He chuckled again.
“I’ll do my best, I suppose.” He nodded.
“Good.” I kicked back in my seat and took a quick sip of coffee. “So, tell me about you and every—”
“I got it!” Jill came marching over to the table. “I figured out where I recognized you from!”
I froze. Lucas swallowed hard.
“You were the kid in all the plays!” Jill jabbed a fist in the air triumphantly. “My sister was in your class, and she was always dragging me to see them. No offense. And you were always the lead in every dang one of ‘em!”
Lucas chuckled. I smiled up at Jill and shrugged.
“You caught me,” I said.
“Thought you’d pull one over on me.” She whistled. “Good try, Rob!”
She laughed loudly and dashed away again. Lucas looked over at me with a wide grin. I shrugged again.
“So…you? Everything that’s changed in town?” I prompted him and grabbed my coffee mug. “Give me the gossip, man.”
Lucas swallowed nervously.
“Well, um, I went to NYU—but I—I told you that already, I guess.” He smiled awkwardly. “Um, not much has really changed here since college. Café changed hands. Bowling alley closed. An extra pub opened. Somehow the hardware store does good business. Everyone goes to Toledo for a movie, dinner, dancing…the usual stuff.”
“Still no nightlife, eh?” I laughed as I sipped my coffee.
“Not really.” He smiled, still managing to keep eye contact. “Not unless you want to go get drunk with teenagers out in the woods.”
“Pass.” I shook my head. “What about you? I know where you went to school and what for, where you work…what do you do around here besides all of that?”
He shrugged.
“Got a wife?” I prodded. “Kids? Any on the way? Hobbies?”
“No, none of that.”
“No hobbies?” I teased.
He chuckled nervously. “I tend to just stick to myself. Kind of a homebody. I like to read.”
“What are you reading now?” I turned to put my back against the wall and kicked my legs out along the booth, coffee mug in hand.
Lucas looked nervous.
“Last book I read was the Fifty Shades of Grey series.” I shrugged. “I was on vacation, and everyone had been talking about them for so long…well, what I’m saying is,
you won’t get any judgment from me.”
He laughed.
“Um, Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides.” He mumbled.
“Not what I expected.” I chuckled and sipped my coffee. “Thought maybe it’d be Lonesome Dove or anything by Larry McMurtry.”
“English major.” He shrugged.
“Touché.” I winked.
“So…yeah, I mostly read.” He began tentatively. “I’m working on building my own place. You remember the Owens’ farmlands?”
“North of here?” I asked. “Right on the lake?”
He nodded. “The last of the Owenses moved away and sold off the land in parcels, and I bought an acre. So, I’m building my own place out there. It’s nearly finished—but I still have a lot of finishing touches to do.”
“A man who reads Pulitzer Prize-winning novels and can build an entire house.” I nodded with a smile. “I’m surprised one of the local ladies haven’t snatched you up.”
He shrugged with a smile.
“What do you do?” He grabbed his coffee mug, looking less nervous. “Besides, ya’ know…?”
I thought about it for a minute.
“Honestly?” I frowned, suddenly realizing the depth of a question like that to someone like me. “I really don’t know. I’ve done…my job…for so long that I have no idea.”
“Well, if you ever want to borrow a book, I have plenty.” He suggested, sounding almost excited. “Just let me know.”
“I might take you up on that.” I tipped my coffee mug at him in a ‘toast’ of sorts.
“If you would ever like to come for a visit—you and Mrs. Wagner, I mean,” He stammered and blushed, “I—I wouldn’t be against that. I don’t really have a lot of friends either.”
“I’m sure it’s a lack of desire on your part.” I laughed. “You seem nice enough.”
He shrugged and looked down again.
“It’s kind of weird sitting here talking to a celebrity.” He chuckled nervously.
“We’re not that great.” I shrugged. “I’ve met tons of ‘em, and we’re all completely insufferable. Trust me.”
“Um, can I ask you something about…ya’ know, being a celebrity?” He leaned in slightly, speaking lowly.
“I guess.” I nodded.
Was he going to ask me how much money I had? What kind of house I had? Who so-and-so was dating? Had I slept with so-and-so? Could I get him a part in a T.V. show or a movie? I braced myself for one of the many thousands of questions I’d been asked a million times before.
