The House on Sandstone

by KG MacGregor

  119

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  "You know you’re going to be up until Thursday." Daniel slid into the empty seat where Carly sat drinking a triple shot of espresso. The lunch crowd had cleared out, and the owner was making the rounds to pick up the empties and wipe off the tables.

  She smiled gently and nodded. "You’re probably right."

  "That’s the problem with the Bible Belt. There’s nowhere to go to get a shot of Jack Daniels in the middle of the day."

  That’s only one of the problems with the Bible Belt. "You have a really nice place here, Daniel. I’d have never guessed a real coffee house would have caught on so well in a place like Leland."

  "Well I’d like to think it’s because we’re more than just a coffee house."

  "Oh, yeah?"

  "Yeah, we’re a…community house. We’re a place to gather and talk about the important things that affect our lives. And we also just happen to have the best coffee in Kentucky."

  "I have to agree with that." She finished her cup and set it back down. "I’m Carly Griffin.

  My mom and dad run Griffin Home Furnishings down the street."

  "Daniel Youngblood. I moved here from Boston last summer. Pleased to meet you."

  "What brings you all the way to Leland? Are you settling here, or is this part of your coffee empire?"

  "Now that’s what I like. Somebody who’s not afraid to think big."

  "Hey, Kentucky Fried Chicken started about fifty miles from here, and I’ve eaten that Original Recipe all over the world." She told him about her job, and explained that she was visiting Leland for a couple of months before her next post in Madrid.

  "Can I get you another? How about a decaf?"

  "Nah, I know when to quit. I’ve probably already burned a hole through my stomach anyway."

  "Don’t let that get out. It would be bad for business. I’d offer you a muffin to soak up the acid, but we’re sold out."

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  Carly liked this man. Leland could use an influx of new people and businesses to drag it out of the Dark Ages. "So really, how did you end up here, Daniel?"

  "I…came down with a friend of mine. His mother died a couple of years ago, and now his father’s going down. He wanted to come back here and be with him, and take care of him for awhile."

  Yeah, Daniel was gay. "Quite a change from Boston, isn’t it?"

  "You know, I thought so at first. But the longer I stay here, the more I think that people are just people, no matter where they are."

  "But what about that Bible Belt thing? There’s more to that than just not being able to get a drink in a bar. I mean, people aren’t as accepting here if you’re…different. At least that’s been my experience."

  A subtle look of understanding crossed the man’s face. They were now on the same wavelength, Carly was certain.

  "Well, you’re right about that. But for the most part, I think people feel better about themselves when they like people, and when they treat other folks well. And I try to do things with that in mind."

  "So what about your friend? What kind of work does he do?"

  "He’s an artist, a painter."

  "Oh yeah? What does he work in?"

  "What does he work on is a better question. He uses oils, water colors, acrylics…everything. But he paints on different surfaces, like newspaper, corkboard, wood. He did the murals, in fact."

  "Wow, he’s good."

  "Well, yeah…until you go pull out your favorite jockey shorts and they’ve been painted with…Never mind, that’s far too personal." Daniel laughed and blushed a bit.

  "Yeah, usually when a guy starts talking about his jockey shorts, it’s time to hit the road.

  So, I guess your friend is from Leland?"

  "Yes, he is. Rich Cortner. Do you know him?"

  "Richie Cortner? Sure, I know him. We went to high school together. In fact, Richie was in my class."

  "Richie? Oh, that’s good. I’m going to enjoy calling him that."

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  "Yeah, I remember Richie. He drew all the cartoons for the school newspaper. He was good even back then."

  "Rich is very good. He’s had six showings in Boston, and he did a west coast exhibit a couple of years ago. We really liked it out there. That might be where we go when we leave here."

  "It’s nice out there. And Californians love their coffee." Carly appreciated at once that Daniel had lapsed into casual conversation; he was, clearly comfortable talking with her about his plans for the future with Rich Cortner.

  "They sure do. That’s when I first decided I was going to open a coffee house. No more suit and tie for me."

  "What did you do before?"

  "Would you believe I used to be a corporate lawyer? Acquisitions. It was dog eat dog, and at the end of the day, I felt like a bone. But this…this is fun."

  "You’ve done a really good job here."

  "Thanks." He stood up to continue his cleanup. "So now that we’re best friends, I hope I’m going to get to see more of you."

  "Yeah, I’ll be back. This is going to wear off on Thursday, right?"

  "Right. But if you want to try out the homemade muffins, you’re going to have to get here before ten."

  "I’ll try. Say, is Richie–I mean Rich–planning on coming to the reunion? It’s our twenty-fifth, you know, and it’s two days after Christmas."

  "He hasn’t mentioned anything about it, but to tell you the truth, I don’t think he has a lot of friends from high school."

  "Yeah, I can relate to that. But I think it’s time to go back and shake ’em all up a little."

  "You’re a brave one, girlfriend."

  "We’ll see." Carly pulled on her jacket and headed for the door. "So tell Rich I said hi. I hope I get a chance to see him."

  "I hope you do too. I’ll tell him about the reunion. Maybe the three of us can get together for dinner or something while you’re here."

  "That would be fun. So long."

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  Only an hour ago, Carly was miserable about the way Perry had acted, and she’d been quick to blame not just her cousin but the whole mindset of a place like Leland. The town was pretty well insulated from gays and lesbians because most of the ones who had grown up here–the Richie Cortners and the Carly Griffins–had found it easier to live their lives somewhere else. Those who couldn’t–the Justine Halls–suffered the wrath of the small minds in town.

  But meeting Daniel Youngblood had given her something to think about. Was it possible that the folks in town could accept him for who he was? Did people really want to feel good about the way they treated others, or did they need to put others down in order to feel superior? Carly had always thought the latter was true, but what if Daniel was right?

  Chapter 12

  "I could get spoiled by having you at home, you know." Nadine clutched her purse as she readied to exit the car. "It’s been nice not having to go in with your daddy every day at the crack of dawn."

  "Well just think, Mama. Pretty soon, you won’t have to go in at all."

  "I bet I won’t know to do with myself. So what are you going to do today?"

  "I think I’ll head over to Daniel’s for coffee. I’ll be in a little later. You want me to bring you anything?"

  "Lord, no! You’re not getting me hooked on those things."

  "You sound just like Perry." Carly hadn’t seen much of her cousin for three days, both of them going out of their way to avoid being in the store at the same time since their argument on Monday. The more she thought about the way he’d responded, the more hurt she was. People who loved you weren’t supposed to just forget that all of a sudden like it didn’t matter.

  "Is there something going on with you and Perry?" It wasn’t hard to notice that the two were steering clear of one another.

  Carly sighed and turned off t
he engine. "He was wanting to fix me up with one of his fishing buddies, so I finally told him…that I didn’t like guys that way. He thinks it’s because I just haven’t met the right one yet."

  "Sounds like your daddy and me. Didn’t you just tell him it didn’t work that way?"

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  "Yeah…but he’s pretty sure that he’s right and I’m wrong…and he made me so mad when he kept saying it that I called him a bigot…a pigheaded bigot, to be specific. That’s when he said that he didn’t need any more help on the truck."

  Nadine knew that her daughter was hurting, and like any mother, she wanted to help.

  "You want me or your daddy to talk to him?"

  "Nah, no sense in dragging you guys into the middle of this. Besides, I want him to be able to accept it because it’s me, not because of you. And if he can’t, then he’s not the person I always thought he was."

  "Honey, you know who Perry is. He’s just never had to deal with this kind of thing before. He loves you, and when he thinks about it, that’s going to be a whole lot more important than whatever he thinks about…homosexuals." Despite her steadfast acceptance of her daughter’s sexual orientation, Nadine had never grown completely comfortable with the terminology.

  "I hope you’re right, Mama. It’s one thing to have strangers look down on you. It’s different when it’s people you care about."

  "Perry isn’t going to look down on you, sweetheart. He just needs to try it on, and turn it over in his head a few times. Your daddy and I had to do that too. You remember how that was."

  Carly had been thinking about that these last few days, the way they had both been hopeful that she was just going through a phase. Despite her insistence that it wasn’t the case, they weren’t ready to believe it. It was only after they saw how much their denial upset her that they all sat down to talk about it some more. Carly explained that she’d felt that way as long as she could remember, and that it had taken her a long time to quit trying so hard to feel things that just weren’t there. She didn’t choose to be this way; it was just who she was.

  "Yeah…well, I wish he’d hurry up. This is a drag."

  "Mmmm…men are a little slower on the uptake. You’d know that if you’d lived around one as long as I have."

  Carly chuckled. "Yet another reason to like women, huh?"

  "I can see where it would have some advantages."

  **********

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  Justine struggled to balance the heavy shoebox as she fumbled in her skirt pocket for the key to her office. There was an unwritten rule that said if your right hand was free, the key was in your left pocket, and vice versa.

  "Let me give you a hand with that, Justine." Dr. Jim Henderson, the hospital’s chief administrator, suddenly appeared out of nowhere to take the box from under her arm.

  "Goodness gracious! Are these all suggestions? We can’t be doing that many things wrong."

  "That’s exactly what they are, Jim. But just because somebody makes a suggestion doesn’t mean it’s a complaint. Some of these are compliments." When she took over as director of patient services, Justine placed several suggestion boxes at strategic locations throughout the hospital, thinking that if she could identify small issues early on, they wouldn’t escalate into bigger problems. The hospital’s lawyers–Cobb, Finger & Sharpe–

  thought it was a great idea.

  "What do you do with all of those? I know you bring some of them up at the staff meetings, but I had no idea you got that many."

  "I enter them into a database. Sometimes, people will say how nice one of the nurses was, and I’ll make a couple of copies and send one to personnel and the other to the nurse."

  "And what about when they complain about somebody?"

  "Well now those…You know how it is, Jim. Some people just like to complain about stuff. Remember when my mother was here?"

  "How could I forget?" Marian Hall had driven them all crazy when she’d broken her hip.

  "If I get a few complaints about the same person, I’ll sometimes go let that person know.

  But if it keeps happening, I figure a supervisor ought to look into it and I send it over to personnel."

  Dr. Henderson smiled in appreciation. He considered Justine Hall to be one of his most valuable employees. She was a team player, and she understood people. She’d been a fabulous fundraiser before that unfortunate incident at the country club, and when she’d come to him a year later saying she just wasn’t having much success anymore, he had refused her resignation, talking her into taking this job instead. He never once regretted his decision. "You know, Justine…you really are doing a great job in this position. That’s why I stopped by. I wanted to let you know that I submitted a request for a five percent raise for you next year."

  "Five percent! Jim, that’s very generous. But I thought three percent was going to be the max."

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  "It is…but I have some discretion, and you’ve saved the hospital so much money with your ideas…and in a couple of cases, you even headed off a lawsuit. I thought it was time we thanked you for that."

  "Thank you very much, Jim."

  "No, thank you, Justine. You’ve made a real difference here."

  She knew that. From the very first day she’d taken over this post, she had made it her mission to keep problems from reaching the second floor…specifically, to keep them from reaching Dr. Jim Henderson. It was hard work, and the rewards weren’t as public and prestigious as they’d been in her old position, but Justine was grateful for the anchor this job had given her over the last five years.

  Dr. Henderson left her office just as the phone rang.

  "Grace Hospital, Patient Services…Hi, JT." She dumped the contents of the box onto her desk as she booted up her computer. "No, I think that’s fine. In fact, I think it would do her good to get out with her friends for a week." Emmy wanted permission to go with the youth group from church on a skiing trip to West Virginia the week after Christmas. "But it’s not the same thing at all. Trey wanted to go without a chaperone. This is a church thing…." She listened as JT related their son’s outburst at what he thought was favoritism, since he hadn’t been allowed to go away for a skiing weekend with his friends.

  "JT, do you think something’s bothering Trey? Lately, he’s been so…I don’t know what, just…unreasonable." She was willing to bet that her son hadn’t mentioned the incident at the theater to his father. "Why don’t you have a talk with him and…No, I think it’s more than senioritis. I just can’t put my finger on it." She tucked the phone under her chin and clicked the icons to bring up her suggestion database. "Okay, let me know what he says, and…maybe you and I ought to get together on Saturday and talk about the kids…No, you know, there’s a coffee shop downtown now…Daniel’s, that’s it. Why don’t you talk with Trey first and let me know what works for you."

  Justine knew that she’d have to tell JT about what happened at the movie theater. If the shoe had been on the other foot, she’d want to know about it. She also wanted to hear how Emmy was doing…really doing. And she had a proposition that JT and J2 might like.

  **********

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  Daniel’s was packed mid-morning when Carly finally made it into the shop. A quick check of the display case confirmed that the wonderful homemade muffins were nearly gone.

  "There aren’t any clean tables," a woman whined to her friend. "I don’t know how they’re going to stay in business if they don’t keep the place straightened up."

  Carly shuffled to the front of the line and found Daniel working steadily at the cash register, serving the pastries, and filling orders for American coffee. His helper, a pregnant woman of about twenty, was swamped with orders for lattes and cappuccinos.

  "Good morning, Daniel." Stretching across the counter, she grabbed a wet towel. "I’ll wipe
down these tables."

  "You’re hired! The pay’s crappy, though." The customers at the front of the line laughed.

  Carly went first to the two women who had complained about the dirty tables, seeing to it that they had a clean place to sit. She continued around the room, collecting discarded newspapers and ceramic cups. When she had a full load, she handed it off to the owner and went back for more. Fifteen minutes later, the chaos was back under control.

  "Thanks, girlfriend. You saved our butts. Name your reward–it’s on the house."

  "No way! I’d rather see you guys make a profit. That way, I know you’re going to be here the next time I get back to Leland."

  "We’ll have to see about that," he answered cryptically.

  "I’m going to head on out, Daniel," his employee called as she took off her apron. She came in early six days a week and helped through the morning rush. The rest of the time, Daniel ran the shop on his own.

  "Thanks, Nolene. I’ll see you tomorrow." The owner finished wiping down the counter and turned to his favorite customer, who had dropped by every morning since they first talked on Monday. "You want the usual?"

  "Of course." The morning rush had cleaned out the muffin display.

  "What size?"

  "You have to ask?"

  Daniel chuckled and selected the largest cup. "I saved you a cranberry muffin. It’s in the back." Carly helped herself while he made her latte. Moments later, he was joining his new friend at the table by the bay window. "I meant to tell you, Rich said to say hello. I wish you could have seen his face when I called him Richie."