Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “Otis, we’re home,” I hollered when I opened the door. Sadie rushed in and immediately went in search of her feline friend. “Where’s he hiding, Sadie?” I asked as she sprinted ahead. I followed the sound of her excited barks at a more leisurely pace. By the time I reached my bedroom, Sadie had already jumped on the bed and started giving Otis a bath.

  I flopped down on my bed beside the kids. “Hi there, little fella,” I said to Otis, scratching his chin. “Have you been a good boy?” I knew my mom had been over a few times to check on him while I was away, but I still felt guilty. Otis loudly purred as he climbed my chest and rubbed the top of his head against my chin. “Not too mad at me, I see.”

  The kids continued to reunite while I lay silently contemplating the weekend and everything I needed to do the following morning at the animal hospital. The first items on my list were reporting the claim to my insurance agent and the second was to get someone out there to replace the ruined front door. I covered the broken glass temporarily with sheets of plywood, but it looked horrible. I would take care of those two things bright and early so I could focus on my patients. Once I finished my game plan, my thoughts shifted back to Chaz.

  I felt my body reacting to the memories of our night in the hotel room. I closed my eyes and pictured the way his body looked in the dim light. My dick started to harden when I recalled the way Chaz moved, the sounds he made, and the way he tasted. I craved him more than Oreo ice cream, and that said a lot. I didn’t want to wait minutes, let alone days, to touch and kiss him again. I decided not to let up on the thing we had brewing between us. If I gave him too much space he could talk himself right out of wanting to be with me, but I couldn’t be too aggressive, or I’d push him away. Like I most likely did with Drew. Why else would he just vanish into thin air?

  I smiled as a compromise occurred to me. I had intended to put my plan into action immediately, but I must’ve been more tired that I thought because I drifted off to sleep. My bedroom was completely dark when I opened my eyes again.

  I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was two in the morning. My heart sank when I realized that I missed my opportunity to see or talk to Chaz that night. There wasn’t anything I could do about it, and pouting wouldn’t change a damn thing. I got out of bed long enough to make sure the house was locked tight and removed my clothes.

  Tomorrow is a new day to put my plan into action.

  I was out of sorts the next morning because Kyle didn’t call me the night before like he said he would. I moped about my kitchen making coffee and nuking a breakfast sandwich in the microwave before I returned to the land of Jamie and Gideon. I dreaded writing the scene where Jamie wakes up alone in his bed. He’d fallen asleep with so much hope in his heart and was ill-prepared for the reality that waited to greet him.

  My gut reaction was to delay writing Jamie’s heartache until I had my emotions in check, but I learned to embrace and channel the feelings my characters brought out in me instead of turning away from them. If the characters moved me to joy, tears, or masturbation, then it stood to reason that my readers would experience the same emotions.

  I had only intended to spend a few hours with Jamie before I went to Curl Up and Dye to take inventory, but the next thing I knew it was past noon. My heart beat painfully in my chest as Jamie’s heartbreak and disillusionment mixed with my fear of Kyle not forgiving me. It was a deadly combination that gave me an instant headache and increased my anxiety over Kyle not calling me. The night I spent with him was the most incredible experience of my life, and a nagging fear took root in my brain that perhaps it didn’t mean the same to him. Maybe I just scratched an itch for him while he waited for Drew to answer his messages. Stop it!

  I shook myself out of my funk. First, the phone lines run both ways and it wasn’t only up to Kyle to do all the damn work. If I wanted to talk to him then I should’ve called him. Second, someone broke in and vandalized Kyle’s animal hospital, so he had his hands full. I realized that I probably wasn’t the best boyfriend material since I didn’t even try to find out how Kyle was doing. What kind of impression was I giving Kyle when I didn’t call or even send a text to see how things went. Instead, I did what I always do when I’m feeling stressed: I stuck my nose in a book. Lately, it just happened to be my own instead of someone else’s.

  As much as I loved to create stories, I couldn’t allow it to consume me twenty-four hours a day unless I wanted to wake up someday to discover I was fifty years old and alone. When a story had me by the balls, I didn’t want to eat, sleep, or even socialize. I immersed myself into the fictional world I created and lost track of everything else. I madly loved writing, but I realized that it would never be enough to sustain me fully. I wanted to taste another man’s lips and feel his weight pushing me into the mattress as our bodies joined instead of writing about it. I needed a man to grab me by the ankles and yank me back down to reality. I hoped that man would be Kyle, but I couldn’t earn and keep his love if I didn’t make him a priority in my life.

  For the first time in my life, I totally understood Josh’s obsession with balance. Josh constantly strived to find the right combination of work and pleasure in his life without burning out. I needed to channel my inner Josh and find that too. Thinking about my best friend since kindergarten always made me smile. He’d found the kind of love that most people only dreamed of or read about in books. He was living, breathing proof that we can all find the right person for us. I couldn’t wait to stand beside him at the altar when he exchanged vows with Gabe at their wedding.

  Gasp! Their wedding was only a few days away. I didn’t have spidey sense, but I did have bestie sense, and it was going off. I just knew that Josh was freaking the fuck out. I dialed Meredith’s number because I knew he would need both of us.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” I said when she answered. “My bestie sense is tripping. Josh needs us. Will you meet me at Curl Up and Dye?”

  “Baby, I’m already one step ahead of you.” Humor laced her words, and I understood why when I heard a car horn beeping in my driveway. “We’ll stop by Edson and Emma’s on the way to pick up our favorite diner foods. I’m starving, I bet you’ve only stepped away from your computer long enough to brush your teeth, and I know damn well that Josh’s nerves have the best of him right now. I think we all need to stop what we’re doing, eat lunch, and rejoice in our friendship.”

  “You’re incredible, Mere.”

  “Yeah, and if that doesn’t work then I’ll start smacking the piss out of you both! There’s no time for freaking out with a wedding five days away,” she said fiercely. “Let’s do this!”

  Mere and I found Josh sitting on the floor in the supply room where we stored our inventory. It didn’t matter to Josh that our software system tracked our merchandise and updated the inventory count after each sale or incoming shipment. He also seemed to forget that he delegated keeping track of our supplies to me when he promoted me to salon manager.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled down at him. “I thought that was supposed to be my job now. Am I not doing it good enough?” I asked.

  Josh jerked his head up and looked at me. “If you start sucking more in other areas of your life and less at your job,” he said, zinging me, “you could use those lips for something more satisfying than grinning at me like a lunatic.” His barb failed to get a rise out of me. I just smiled wider because I saw right through his snarktastic attitude.

  Meredith snorted then said, “He’s worse than I thought, Chaz.”

  “His eyes are looking a little wild,” I said to Mere. I offered my hand to assist him off the floor. “He looks a little hungry too.”

  “I bet his nerves are making it hard for him to eat,” Meredith replied, nodding her head.

  “Good thing we picked up his favorite foods from the diner on the way over,” I added.

  “Then feed me instead of fucking around like clowns.” Josh grabbed my hand, and I groaned like he weighed a half ton while I helped him t
o his feet. “You better start working on your strength and stamina for when you and Kyle stop dicking around and really get to dicking around. What do you authors call words that are spelled the same but have multiple meanings?”

  “Homonyms,” I said patiently.

  “I would’ve guessed versatile,” he paused for effect, “like Kyle.” Josh casually tossed that out there before he walked by us in search of food.

  Meredith’s eyes widened in surprise and maybe concern for the direction the conversation turned. I wasn’t sure if Josh was going for shock value or what, but I vowed not to react. Unfortunately, I felt heat creeping up my neck and lower half of my face as I followed him to the kitchen. Obviously, Josh learned that Kyle was versatile through Gabe, and I didn’t like that they discussed Kyle’s sexual preferences. Then it hit me. Gabe didn’t tell Josh that Kyle was versatile, Gabe showed Josh that he was versatile and Josh connected the dots. Hmmm, I tucked that knowledge into my arsenal to use when the time was right.

  We all fell on our food like ravenous animals and several minutes passed before Meredith said, “Let us help you work through some of this, baby. Maybe if you get it off your chest, you can sort it all out and feel better. Normally, we’d let you internalize your feelings until you either work them out on your own or talk to us and let us help, but this is too important for us just to sit back and wait.”

  “Really, dude,” I agreed. “Get it all out so you can enjoy your week.”

  We started asking Josh questions to figure out exactly what had him tied up in knots. The more questions we asked, the more confused I grew because he seemed to have everything under control. Yes, he was nervous about meeting Gabe’s birth mother and his sisters for the first time, but that wasn’t the source of his stress. He had all the meals planned and rooms ready for their parents’ stay in their new home, so that wasn’t his problem. He told us that everything was on track with the wedding vendors too. So, what the hell was going on?

  “Then what is it?” Mere asked, sounding just as confused as me.

  “This is going to sound crazy,” Josh said in warning, but instead of being afraid, we placed our elbows on the table and leaned in closer.

  “We were born for crazy,” I told him. But neither Mere nor I was prepared for the level of crazy he shared with us. “First, I have to tell you about Emory.”

  Earlier in the year, Emory Jackson moved into the house next to the salon. Josh disliked him from the word go and wanted no part of him, which Meredith and I found strange. He had no viable reason for disliking the man; he just did. Things got even stranger when Josh randomly invited the guy to Easter dinner a short time later. Josh was practically spitting nails at Emory one minute and inviting him to our sacred dinners the next. I grew even more suspicious when Emory said he moved to Blissville to write a book. What? Here? Why? Did he just throw a dart at a map? I’d already published my first book by then, even though none of my friends knew it. I struck up a conversation with Emory about writing and publishing, and I quickly learned that he knew nothing about either subject. So, why was he in town? Maybe Josh was right when he didn’t trust the man. I went home that night and googled Emory’s name and what I learned shattered my heart.

  Emory and his husband, River, were involved in a single-car accident that claimed his husband’s life. According to the articles I found, Emory came out of his coma with newfound abilities. He began having psychic visions and attributed them to his husband guiding him from beyond the grave to help people. It honestly sounded a little farfetched to me, but I saw the sadness in Emory’s eyes and knew his hurt was genuine. Dozens of police departments across the country publicly said they never would’ve solved the cold cases without his help. He even appeared on a few episodes of a television show that explored psychic investigating. He seemed to be legitimate, but that never answered the question of why he moved to Blissville of all places.

  “But apparently, you both already knew that,” Josh said once he finished telling us what he knew about Emory’s background.

  “Emory said he wanted to write books, but he knew shockingly little about the process,” I told him. “I got the feeling he was covering something. I quietly did an internet search and read some articles about his past. I didn’t say anything because it was obvious he wasn’t here to hurt anyone, and I didn’t feel right gossiping about him.”

  “Same,” Meredith agreed. “He was too vague about some things, and I wondered how he could afford to move here when he obviously wasn’t working and said he hadn’t published a book yet.”

  “Gabe would be very proud of your sleuthing skills,” Josh told us.

  “What does Emory’s background have to do with you looking like a cat on its eighth-and-three-quarters life?” I asked him. “Oh! He’s had a vision about one of you.”

  Mere gasped and sat straight up in her chair then covered her heart as if she was trying to protect it from the truth. “Jazz, is that true?”

  “Yes,” Josh admitted. “There’s more to the story.”

  We raptly listened as Josh talked about how Emory met them in their driveway when they returned home from Josh’s birthday trip in June with a gloomy prediction that someone from Gabe’s past was out for revenge. June! Josh had known about it for three months and didn’t tell either of us. He then told us about the U.S. Deputy Marshall showing up the night they moved into their new home with news that Gabe’s former partner on the Miami Police Department was on the run and most likely gunning for Gabe, who he blamed for ruining his career. I’d seen the “Wanted” posters hanging up, but I didn’t know what the hell it was all about. Why didn’t Josh tell Mere and me? Didn’t he trust us?

  “I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen,” Josh said. The strain in his voice and the sadness I saw in his eyes broke me out of my pity party for one.

  “Honey, this guy has been on the run for weeks. He would’ve shown up here already,” Meredith said calmly.

  “Maybe,” I said. “A guy like him would know how to avoid detection from law enforcement agencies. He’s probably changed his appearance and is using cash he kept squirreled away if this day ever came.” I tipped my head while I thought some more. “Probably even money he’d taken from the evidence locker they’d collected from drug busts, searches, and seizures. I mean, here these cops are eking out a living while that money sits in an evidence locker. Hell, I bet most of it never gets tagged into evidence. I think the temptation to make their lives a little better would be too great to pass. I doubt he’s fled the country and he’ll be looking for revenge.”

  Somewhere along the way, my brain veered away from Josh and Gabe’s real circumstances to my fictional world, and I imagined how the story would unfold there. “If he thinks Gabe is responsible for ruining his career then he won’t go down without trying to take Gabe with him,” I said. “Or, if he truly wanted to hurt Gabe he’d kill the one Gabe loves most in the world. He’d turn his attention on Josh when everyone focused on protecting Gabe.”

  “Charles Bailey!” Meredith yelled. “What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?” She followed up her question with a smack to the back of my head, which forced me back to reality.

  “Huh?” I asked. “What did I say?”

  “Look what you did to Jazz.” Meredith pointed to Josh, who had tears streaming down his face.

  “Fuck! What did I say?” I asked.

  “You basically implied that there’s no fucking way that Jimmy De Soto hopped on a dinghy and headed to the Bahamas and that he’s most likely hiding out nearby so he can kill Josh to get back at Gabe,” Meredith recapped.

  “I said that?” I asked. “Oh man, I was just plotting for my book out loud more than anything. Damn, Jazz, I’m so sorry I said that to you.”

  “Book plotting?” Meredith scoffed. “What, you have a Gabe in your book who also happens to be a cop with an ex-partner on the run from the law who may or may not want to kill him for ruining his career?”


  “No, not really, but that’s what I would do if I were writing this scenario in a book. I would have De Soto come after Josh, and I’d do it in a big way, but this isn’t fiction this is—”

  A knock at the back door scared the hell out of us and interrupted me before I could finish. In fact, we all screamed like girls.

  “Oh my God!” Meredith exclaimed. “It’s him!”

  “De Soto wouldn’t knock, Mere. He’d just kick down the door,” I said.

  “Like that makes us feel better,” Meredith said hotly. “What’s the matter with you? You start writing some sexy suspense novel with a serial killer and BAM, you turn a little creepy yourself. I can’t imagine what your search engine must be like on your laptop. That’s probably the feds looking for your disturbing ass.”

  “Josh, you guys okay in there?” Emory asked through the back door as if he didn’t just hear us all screaming.

  Meredith continued to rip me a new one while Josh got up and unlocked the door.

  Emory looked around the kitchenette and asked, “Is this a bad time?”

  “Meredith is ripping into Chaz for misbehaving; same speech, different ear,” Josh told him.

  I would’ve much rather listened in on the conversation Josh and Emory had, but I worried what Meredith might do to me if I ignored her. I knew that most of her blustery attitude came from fear for our friends. I covered both of her hands with mine and looked into her warm brown eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Mere.” I had no real way of knowing that, but the alternative was too scary to contemplate.

  When I arrived at the animal hospital, my insurance agent was waiting for me. I hadn’t called her office yet, so I figured she must have heard about the break-in through town gossip. “Good morning, Holly,” I said to her. “How are you today?”

  “Sounds like I’m doing better than you,” she said dryly. I think I first met Holly in preschool. We became fast friends and remained that way all our lives. She was the girl I took to senior prom, the one I had wished I could love, and the first person I told I was gay when I realized that I never would. Her family owned and operated the only insurance agency in town for the past five decades. Her father decided to retire early a few years back, and Holly took over the business as I had from my grandfather.