by Leta Blake
“Yeah, no. I can’t really make that promise.”
Leo laughed again and clasped Grant’s shoulder in a friendly way, before heading off to join his father in studying a cart of hay that was hitched to a tractor. Chuck Garner was a wide, tall man with gray-gold hair and a sun-lined face. As Grant watched, he and Leo seemed to debate whether or not there was enough straw for the hayride.
There were too many people at the farm. People that Grant knew and a few that he even—well, ‘liked’ was a strong word, one he usually reserved for Alec. But there were a few that didn’t bug him so much.
Like his fellow apartment dwellers, Jill and Tom Weinstein, both of whom liked to chat with him across the balconies while watering their plants. He raised his beer to them in acknowledgement, relieved when they didn’t wave him over to talk.
He figured it was only a matter of time, though, before someone did, and he wanted to be mostly through a plate of food by then. He wasn’t fond of socializing with Blountville’s natives on the best of days, but, at the moment, he knew he was in dire peril of being roped into a long and boring conversation it would be difficult to escape. So he planned to find the promised food as quickly as possible, eat it, and skedaddle while the skedaddling was good.
Someone small bumped against him, and Grant looked down, narrowly avoiding spilling beer on his favorite small child—a distinction earned simply by the fact that Alec was her stepfather. There was something to be said for shared affections.
“Uncle Grant,” Mina said from underneath her pirate patch, which seemed to be made from a glitter-covered orange peel. “Watch this!” And she struck the air mightily with a plastic rapier. “Don’t I look awesome?”
Since the only answer Grant could imagine giving to that question was “No, you look ridiculous; don’t your fathers love you at all?” Grant said nothing.
But Mina didn’t mind, at least not from what Grant could tell, since she ran off hollering at the top of her voice and chasing what looked like a red-haired, blue-eyed, little-girl-shaped Harry Potter.
Grant grabbed another beer from the cooler, tucked it under his arm for later, and continued looking for the promised pie. The sooner he got it in his tummy, the sooner he could leave this place. “Come on, pie. Where have they hidden you?”
“There’s gonna be apple pie after the fireworks,” Lucky said from down around his elbow.
Grant stared at her massive headpiece of plastic snakes, noticing her gray, baggy, barely-held-together dress made from a dyed sheet and giant safety pins, and the green fingernails on her small hand that grasped one tiny can of cola.
“That late, huh?” Grant said.
“Yeah, it’s tradition,” she said. Her young tongue mangled the word, but Grant still knew what she meant. “Fireworks, then pie, then hay ride, and then everyone goes home.”
“I thought maybe your father had lied to me about the pie.”
“No. Daddy doesn’t lie,” Lucky said, but it was slow, like she was holding something back.
Grant wondered why she wasn’t being entirely honest. “Spill it,” Grant said.
Lucky looked up at him in confusion, but then twisted her wrist, dumping her soft drink on the ground.
Grant laughed, bringing his hand down on Lucky’s shoulder to shake her a little.
She grinned up at him and said, “Now what?” Curiosity lit her face, like she was anxiously awaiting the next step in whatever game Grant was playing.
“Now you tell me where the food is and I eat as much as I can without exploding.”
Lucky looked down at her spilled cola and shrugged. “But why spill it, though?”
“Get me some food, kiddo, and I’ll explain it to you.”
Lucky took his hand and led him to a table behind the barn that was the answer to all of Grant’s prayers, the very substance of his dreams. There on the long table were hot dogs, hamburgers, casseroles that were cheesy and hot, and others that were cold and filled with marshmallows. There were cookies, and sweet potatoes, and deviled eggs. There was a ham salad that made Grant’s mouth water just looking at it, and there were three cakes, and two pans of brownies, and a selection of potato salads to choose from. Grant didn’t know where to start.
Lucky lingered by his side as he filled his plate and then followed him to a shady place under a tree.
“Your family has this party every year?” Grant asked, suddenly a little put out that the Garners had never invited him before. It seemed the entire town was in attendance. He could have been feasting annually for the last six years.
“Yeah,” Lucky said. “But I’ve only been here one time before for Halloween. In California we just walked up and down the street for trick-or-treat. I put the candy in my pillowcase.”
She sounded unable to reconcile some bundle of emotions running through her, probably about California, and leaving her other father, and moving here. Grant changed the subject in hopes that she wouldn’t try to talk about those feelings.
“When I said spill it, I wanted you to tell me who it is that lies to you,” Grant said, biting into the hot dog he’d slathered with chili and relish. He chewed as the realization hit him that the topic he’d chosen would probably be laced with feelings too, and he hoped she didn’t cry. He’d feel like a jerk if that happened, and God knows he sure as hell wouldn’t know what to do.
Lucky pushed a plastic snake out of her eye. “He only lies on accident.”
“Who? Leo?”
Lucky said, “No. Daddy doesn’t lie. Sometimes he’s wrong, but he never lies. Papa, though, he promises things.” Lucky shrugged. “Lies are sometimes by accident. Papa doesn’t mean to lie to me. That’s what Daddy says, and Daddy says the truth.”
Grant said nothing.
“Dr. Grant,” Lucky said, calling him the name he’d suggested during their chess instruction. “I’m gonna go now. Will you be okay?”
Grant chuckled at her sincere concern and then waved her off. He knew where the food was, and she’d told him something of interest to mull over for a while as he worked through his plate. Her job here was done as far as he was concerned.
Lucky ran away, chasing after Mina, a plastic snake dropping from her head to the ground. It was promptly picked up by another child who ran after a small girl shaking it at her and screaming. Grant was grateful for the beer taking the edge off things, and he opened a second one, settling in beneath the tree.
“That’s a lot of food,” Alec said.
Grant shaded his eyes, trying to see Alec as more than a dark shadow outlined by the bright autumn sun behind him. His fairy wings moved in the breeze and the sun set off the glitter he’d sprayed into his hair, too.
“Good food,” Grant said, stuffing another forkful into his mouth.
“Oh, wow, and you actually have something nice to say,” Alec said, shifting a little so that the light wasn’t stabbing Grant right in the eye.
“They do this every year, did you know?” Grant said. “And they’ve never invited me before.”
“Gee, I wonder why.” Alec sat down next to Grant, his smile warm, and the scent of his aftershave familiar and friendly. “I have to leave in a few minutes to go with Dennis to have a phone call with Pamela. She wants to talk to us about something serious. I don’t know. Something that might impact Mina, we think.”
Grant frowned. “You don’t think she wants custody again, do you?”
“No,” Alec said, his brows creasing in worry. “I think she might be ready to renounce her parental rights and allow me to adopt her.”
“Seriously?”
“She’s been in Belgium for almost a year now. She’s dating that man who has three daughters. I kind of think she’s ready to erase what she and Dennis shared.”
“But she can’t erase Mina!”
“She can try.” Alec’s shoulders hunched, making his fairy wings flop sadly. “It’s better if Mina stays here and has fun at the party. Leo has already said she can spend the night.”
&nb
sp; “That’s great.” Grant frowned and gazed toward the farmhouse. “So Leo’s living out here?”
“Yeah, just him and Lucky. His folks still live in the house in town. Anyway, I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“Good luck with it,” Grant said, his mind supplying him with images from the inside of the farmhouse from the only time he’d come up here with Leo. It wasn’t a posh place, but it was cozy inside. A good place for a kid like Lucky.
“Will you watch Mina for us? Be extra eyes on her until the party ends?”
Grant glanced out to the pasture where Mina, Lucky, and the other kids were playing with hula hoops and eating ice cream cones simultaneously. All of them were sticky messes that could morph into e. coli vectors at any moment.
“This is a ploy to get me to stay here longer, isn’t it? So I’ll talk more with Leo.”
“And is it working?” Leo himself asked, suddenly crouching down beside him on the grass.
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me,” Grant grumbled.
“I walked over here in plain sight.”
“No, you approached from behind the tree. I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”
Leo laughed. The sound of it was full of a kind of happiness that seemed all encompassing, like anyone could reach out and have some of it if they wanted. When he stopped, he said, “I hope you take Alec up on watching Mina for him, because I’d really like you to stay.”
“There!” Alec said and slapped Grant’s thigh. “It’s a plan. Now, if either of you need anything, I’ll have my cell phone. And Dennis will have his. Obviously.”
Alec jumped up and was gone before Grant could even finish swallowing the deviled egg he’d stuffed in his mouth. He watched him go, the fairy wings flapping as he walked, and then Dennis stepped up to join him, kissing his forehead and smiling down at him before waving goodbye to Mina.
“Listen,” Grant began, and then he didn’t know what to say. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked around. “This isn’t exactly my kind of thing.”
“No, of course not,” Leo said.
“Now this food, though?”
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Again there was that longing in Leo’s voice.
“Where’s your plate?” Grant asked.
Leo shrugged. “If I can score a new kidney, I’ll be able to eat a plate like that, too. Though, if you’re not careful, Grant, we may have to roll you out of here.”
“I wouldn’t care,” Grant said.
And he wouldn’t because he would be full, delightfully completely full, and he wouldn’t need to eat a Michelina’s frozen dinner tonight. Plus, if he managed to get some leftovers to take home, he wouldn’t have to eat one tomorrow night either.
“Whoever made this thing with the beans and the tomatoes and the maple syrup needs to be given an award,” Grant went on.
“Oh, really? That would be me.”
“You made this?”
Leo nodded, and Grant had to hold back from grabbing Leo’s head and kissing him. The man was gorgeous and could cook and made Grant want. But he’d learned his lesson the first time, hadn’t he? Leo was dangerous.
“So, what’s my reward?” Leo asked, and he gave Grant a look so flirtatious that it almost made Grant hard.
“Congratulations, you won the honor of getting me another beer,” Grant replied, forcing himself to look out to the pasture where Mina was sticking her head into a half-barrel, coming up with an apple hanging off her front teeth.
Leo grinned and laughed. “You can be such a jerk.”
“You like it,” Grant said.
Leo stood up and said as he walked away, “I never said I didn’t. I’ll send Lucky over with another beer.”
Afternoon passed into evening as Grant gorged on food. He fended off townspeople commenting on his stomach as the bottomless pit, and he endured Mina sitting on his lap through the godawful sing-along portion of the evening. He covered Mina’s ears while they told ghost stories, though. The poor kid was terrified and whimpered in fear while burying her head into his chest and just holding on.
The fireworks were small things, nothing elaborate or huge, and Grant stuck around telling himself that he’d just wait to make sure no one blew their hand off or blinded themselves. The fact that he’d lingered all day had nothing at all to do with watching Leo or studying the way Leo’s hair glowed in the fading autumn sunlight.
God, it had nothing to do with that.
It also didn’t have to do with the curiously comforting scent of bonfire smoke and burning hay that covered Leo’s clothes, and which Grant could smell whenever Leo came back to sit beside him. It definitely had nothing to do with the lust that curled in Grant’s stomach whenever Leo brought over another beer and ran his cold fingers over Grant’s hand in the exchange.
Grant groaned. It had everything to do with all of those things.
“Hey,” Leo said, having somehow escaped Grant’s sight again and snuck up to where Grant sat with his back to the oak tree. Leo crouched beside him. “Did you get enough pie?”
“A man can never have enough pie,” Grant said.
Leo lifted a brow. “I am so tempted to make a ‘that’s what my cousin says’ joke, but I won’t.”
“Your cousin?”
“He’s straight. Well, the three older ones are. The littlest one is still just a kid, so who knows?”
“Ah,” Grant said. “You have too many relatives. A whole mess of them. That can’t be sanitary.”
Leo laughed and said nothing for a few moments, then he murmured sweetly, “Thanks for coming out here today. You seemed to have a good time.”
“Don’t fool yourself,” Grant said. “But it was good pie.”
“My Papaw’s recipe,” Leo said, his voice fond and soft. “He died a few years ago.”
“I remember,” Grant said.
Leo had been in town for the funeral and had stuck around for a few, long, annoying days, during which Grant saw him in Starbucks or Little Apron, and, as always, Leo’s presence had been impossible to ignore.
“I’m really glad you came,” Leo said, picking up a small stick and twiddling it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he sat down all the way, crossing his legs and resting his back against the tree, his shoulder pressing against Grant’s.
“I’m glad I ate the food,” Grant said.
“You’re not gonna give me even a little bit, are you?” Leo asked, gray eyes and gentle smile making Grant’s chest feel tight. “I mean, would it hurt you to say that you’re glad you came, too?”
The beers must have loosened his tongue, because he said, “It might. It might be the magic spell that undoes all that’s good in my life and leaves me broken beyond repair.”
“You don’t believe in magic,” Leo chided.
“Nope. Or luck,” Grant replied.
“You love your life here in Blountville, though, don’t you?” Leo’s voice was soft, respectful, but somehow affectionate, too.
A roman candle shot into the night sky; the light left a red trail and then disappeared into nothing. Kids spelled out words with sparklers and their delighted shrieks of laughter filled the air when a bottle rocket screamed its way up into the dark and exploded in a burst of color overhead.
“It ain’t bad,” Grant said.
Leo settled in beside him, his legs sprawled open, his arm against Grant’s, and his hair smelling of some kind of mint shampoo and the smoke from the bonfire. Grant glanced over at him, watching his face light up with the next firework.
Leo caught his eye and his smile grew wider.
Grant was acutely aware of Leo’s thigh pressing against his, but he didn’t move away. He knew he should leave. Knew that Leo’s fingers inched slowly toward Grant’s hand, and that he didn’t plan to do anything to stop their fingers from intertwining.
Leo breathed, “Nope, it ain’t bad at all.”
Grant was a goner, just like Alec had said, and he couldn’t even begin t
o explain just why.
And while the pie and the food had been good, he suspected that it hadn’t been that good. Not good enough to make up for all that was going to happen now, anyway. That was for certain.
Grant had managed to avoid falling down that rabbit hole called love the first time around, but this time he wasn’t going to be so lucky. He’d already slipped, and there was no use in grasping at air on the way down.
So he grasped Leo’s hand instead.
Chapter Nine
Eight Months Ago
It had been a month since the Halloween party, and Grant was still trying to come to terms with the fact that he was currently behaving in a way that was suspiciously similar to dating Leo Garner.
There’d been the ‘double date’ at Alec and Dennis’s house. And there’d been a few Saturday lunch dates at a local deli. Lucky would pop French fries in her mouth and suck down a shake, while she and Grant played chess on the iPad, and Grant and Leo talked.
And once there’d been a night out at Little Apron, sitting at a table alone together, eating a nice meal. Then, when a small jazz band started playing, and folks started dancing, Leo had suggested joining them. Grant, to his own surprise, had accepted. It’d felt good holding Leo on the dance floor, and the curious eyes on them had only made it better. Having Leo’s body against his for everyone in Blountville to see counted as a very big win.
In addition, Grant went out to the farm sometimes, and Leo and Lucky gave him lots of food to eat. Other nights Leo, either alone, or with Lucky, came over to the apartment and they ordered in a dinner, and occasionally they walked over to the park and sat on a bench while Lucky ran around and played.
During all this, Leo’s health seemed to hold steady enough, but Grant couldn’t forget the transplanted heart in his chest or the non-functioning kidneys in his back. It made every day that Leo lived and laughed a little bit sweeter, and a little bit scarier, too.
Lastly, Grant had actually given Leo his cell phone number. What’s more, he picked up the phone when Leo called, and he never failed to reply to a text from him either.
Amazingly, despite the red flags and danger signals sent up by his heart, Grant liked dating Leo Garner. The time they spent together had a certain rhythm and peace to it that Grant appreciated in his otherwise hectic life.
