Together in Cedarwood

by Megan Slayer

  He sighed. He couldn’t get Bobby out of his brain. His nerve endings sizzled at the thought of Bobby jerking him off. When he flexed his asshole, he remembered Bobby being there. The tips of his ears burned. He’d never let a guy get to him the way he had with Bobby.

  Saturday night had been one for the books. A whole lot of good and a little not so good. Not getting Bobby’s number and having Bobby leave before he fully woke up kind of sucked. He could’ve sworn he heard Bobby get up and even remembered Bobby speaking to him, but he had no idea what Bobby had said.

  He should’ve called Julia on Sunday afternoon, but he’d been so wrapped up in writing and not thinking about his sort-of date that he’d forgotten about her.

  He picked up his cell phone. He didn’t smoke, but he could use a jaunt outside to the former smoker’s den in order to have some privacy. Before he could dial her number, one of his co-workers, Maureen, strode up to his desk.

  She plunked a pamphlet and a short stack of papers beside his laptop.

  He tucked his phone into his front pocket. “How are you today?”

  “Can we talk?” she asked.

  “As long as it’s not about me getting fired, I’m all yours.” He rolled his chair back and rested his ankle on his knee. “What’s up?”

  “Couple of things.” She scratched her forehead, then dragged one of the other chairs over to his desk. She sat and faced him. “First, I brought over your schedule for the different sports events this week. Some Hot Stove league games, a traveling softball team game and a swim meet over at the metro park today.”

  “All of those are today?” he blurted, then reread the schedule. He needed to stop speaking before thinking and reading. “Sorry. All week. Okay, I knew about the swim meet. It starts at four.” He checked his watch. He had about five hours until he was due at that event.

  “That’s why I said all week.” She shook her head. “You’ll be fine. You’ll have to interview a couple of the athletes, but I wrote those down for you.” She lowered her voice. “You’ve heard of the Coalition, right?”

  He groaned. “Who hasn’t? Don’t tell me you’re part of it.”

  “No.” She held up both hands. “Wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Good.” He’d tried to ignore the group as much as possible since the last incident. He could still hear the woman shouting at him to leave the softball game because she didn’t want the youngsters, as she’d called the players, to see that being gay was a positive thing.

  “No, I brought these papers and the brochure over because I think you should do a story about them. I’m sure there are quite a few people in Cedarwood who don’t agree with their tactics and/or have been victimized by them. Those people need a say. You can do it.” She tapped the stack of papers. “I bet that guy you were with at the park would appreciate it.”

  “You know him?” He sat up a little straighter. “Maureen, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “I’m friends with his mother.” She grinned and adjusted the scarf around her throat. “I finally got the hint that you weren’t interested in my daughter, but it took talking to Esther about it for things to make sense.”

  “Do they live around here?” He suddenly wanted to know everything about Bobby. “Do I know his mom?”

  “You’ve seen Esther. I went to lunch with her last week. The tall blonde woman with the huge black sedan.”

  He nodded. How could he forget the boat of a car pulling into the lot? She’d taken up two parking spaces.

  “Bobby’s dad is the chief of police. I thought you knew that.” Maureen frowned, drawing her dark eyebrows tight together. “Well, you do now.”

  He sat back in his chair and fought to hide his shock. Talk about a small world. No wonder Bobby was so low-key about everything concerning their getting together. With his dad in the public eye, he probably didn’t want anyone knowing his business.

  “Anyway, check into that group. I got you some of their info. There’s got to be a way we can all get along in this town.” She patted his shoulder. “I need to get back to the front desk. I left the new girl in charge, and while she’s decent at answering the phones, she’s more concerned about her social media status than her employment status.”

  “Thanks, Maureen.” He waited for her to leave before he flipped through the documents. The more he read, the more his stomach churned. The Coalition for Order in Cedarwood wanted to ‘keep the sanctity of marriage in the town. Marriage should be between a man and woman. Children grow up better and more mature in a heterosexual marriage household.’ Who comes up with this stuff? His parents weren’t thrilled he was gay and let him know their thoughts, but that hadn’t convinced him not to be gay. He snorted. He’d be willing to bet somewhere in the Coalition rhetoric was the notion that homosexual people could flip a switch and not be gay. He scanned the page and found the sentiment.

  “Christ,” he mumbled. How in the hell was he supposed to write a decent story about this? He wanted to fling the papers across the room and never look at them again. Unfortunately for him, he was there to do a job. He shoved away from his desk and picked up the stack of papers. If he wanted to make it to the swim meet on time and digest the information on the Coalition, he needed a working lunch—not at his desk.

  Remy stuffed the papers and his computer tablet into his messenger bag. He turned off the laptop. He moved his phone from his pocket to his bag and twirled his keys. He ducked out of the side door leading to the parking lot. The sun beat down on the sticky blacktop and birds chirped in the apple trees. He gripped his keys and strode away from his car. It was too nice a day to drive. He’d stroll down to the city square and hit up one of the food trucks, then eat at the little memorial park. He doubted anyone would bother him there.

  As he walked the two blocks to the center of town, he called Julia. After three rings, she picked up.

  “Hey,” he said. “I thought I’d get your voicemail.”

  “Normally, you would’ve, but my lit teacher canceled class. She came down with a case of Las Vegas,” Julia replied.

  He stopped in his tracks. “A case of Vegas? What’s that?”

  “She ran off to get married.” Julia chuckled. “Seems like every available woman in the county is either engaged, married or at least dating—except me.”

  “You’ve got me.” He doubted she wanted to hear that. “I’m loyal to you and think you’re adorable.”

  “But you suck when it comes to sex. You’re not interested in me.”

  “Sorry.” He understood her situation. They’d bonded over the end of their respective relationships. She’d helped him get over Al, his second lover, and he’d helped her prove her then-boyfriend, Dillon, had cheated on her.

  “So? Dish. I know you went home with Bobby.”

  “Guess everyone noticed, huh?”

  “I saw you at the festival, so yes, I noticed. I was at the concert and happened to see you leave with him. I’m glad. He’s cute, funny and sweet,” Julia said. “He’s stable too.”

  “I guess so.” He plunked his bag on his lap and folded his arm across his chest. “We slept together.”

  “Good.”

  He couldn’t tell if she was happy, proud or being sarcastic. “We watched the fireworks together, cuddled and I invited him back to my place.”

  “And? Was he good? He looks like he’d be the take-charge type who’s awesome in bed.”

  “He was.” He couldn’t lie. He’d replayed their time together in his head a hundred times, including that morning in the shower. “I really like him.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “I invited him to run with me.”

  “There is a God. I can’t keep up with you.” Julia paused. “I feel a ‘but’ coming on. A big one. Spill. What’s wrong? You’re usually so bubbly with info after a hook-up.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. This was another reason he loved Julia—she cut to the chase and knew him so well. She didn’t put up
with his bullshit either. “The thing is, I’m scared. I blurted out a bunch of crap in front of him. I swear I was practically incoherent.”

  “Were you drunk? You don’t drink to excess.”

  “I was completely sober, just nervous and saying everything that came into my head.” He groaned. “I told him I was a fat kid and it still messed with me. We had sex, yeah, but he left in the morning without so much as a note.”

  “Really? Are you sure? He’s a stand-up kind of guy. I’ve known him since he was a little boy.”

  “Okay, he spoke to me. I think he said something about it being great, but I can’t be sure. He wore me out and I dozed off after he left.” His confidence dipped. “I messed up, didn’t I? I find a guy I like, one who is normal and decent, but I can’t seal the deal.”

  “You sealed something if he stayed over.”

  “I can’t call him to sort things out or set up a time to run. It’s crazy.” He’d been hungry when he’d left the newspaper offices, but the longer he talked to Julia, the more he was glad he hadn’t eaten yet.

  “It’s a miscommunication,” she said. “Maybe he thought he left a note or that you understood him when he said bye. Did you check your phone? Maybe he put his info in? I don’t know. I’m not him, but I’ve done that. I’ve asked the guy for his phone and input my info. Usually the guy doesn’t call, but that’s my problem. We’re talking about you.”

  “I’ll look when I hang up with you.” He dropped his hand onto his lap. “You don’t think I fucked it up with him?”

  “I think you’re worried and overthinking. Once you see him again, you’ll be sure. Don’t freak out.”

  Easy for her to say. He sighed. “I’ve got to do some reading on the Coalition here in town, then head over to the metro park for a swim meet. I’ll call you later tonight.”

  “Why are you reading up on the Coalition? If you tell me you’re considering joining or going along with their ideas, I’ll come over there and smack you.”

  “Because I’m going to write a counter piece.” He hadn’t really planned on doing such a thing, but as he thought about the language in the flyer, anger bubbled in him. He wasn’t a freak or a problem in the community, and if someone didn’t start standing up, then nothing would change.

  “Go you,” she replied. “Keep your head on and write that piece.”

  She hung up, leaving him in silence.

  Remy tucked his phone back into his pocket and watched people mill about the square. Reading about the Coalition angered him, but so did skipping lunch. He kept the papers in his bag. No reading on an empty stomach. He headed back to the food trucks and ordered a falafel sandwich and a green tea. As he waited for his lunch, he surveyed the traffic in the square. Only a couple of the benches were open, and none of the picnic tables were free. At this rate, he’d need a table…

  Once the food was ready, he headed back to the bench in the little park. The shade helped, and so did the lack of others in the general vicinity. He tucked the strap of his messenger bag under his thigh, then opened his sandwich. As he ate, he flipped through the info on the Coalition.

  He frowned. ‘The mission of the Coalition is to keep the sanctity of family and marriage alive in Cedarwood.’ Who the hell said they weren’t alive? He kept reading.

  While gay people aren’t inherently bad, they pose a problem to the community—religion dictates they’re full of sin.

  Jesus. Where are these people getting this stuff? He turned the papers over and finished his sandwich. He thought about a conversation he’d had in college with a buddy who’d come out and expected every other gay to be as open as he was. Jack swore up and down that the closeted gays were the reason the LGBT community was screwed. Remy had argued otherwise. There were so many things fucked up about the world. After reading the crap from the Coalition, he understood why some gay folks chose to stay in the closet. If they heard the Coalition bullshit all of the time, they wouldn’t want to be themselves for fear they’d be ostracized.

  “They don’t understand because they don’t want to understand,” he murmured. He’d told Jack the same thing, only to get crickets in return.

  He wondered what Bobby would say. Unlike Bobby, he never knew when to shut up. He’d blabbered on about so many things. He sighed. Still, he had good memories of their night together. He wished he had Bobby’s number, but he’d get it sooner or later. The conversations with Maureen and Julia encouraged him to hold on to hope. If they liked Bobby, then good.

  He balled up the paper from his sandwich and polished off the rest of his tea. He should probably get back to his reading. He tucked the paper into the cup, then set it between his feet. Just thinking about the Coalition irritated him.

  He scanned through the member interviews and more literature from the group. The testimonials churned his stomach. He’d never read so much hate in his life. He frowned while re-reading the words of the members. There was no way all of the different run-ins with gay people had occurred—not in the manner these people described. He’d never seen anyone picket anything in Cedarwood until the Coalition had picketed the diner. None of the teachers had been fired because of their sexuality until recently, and those who were fired or laid off didn’t speak publicly about the layoffs. The only assault had come at the hands of suspected Coalition members. Something wasn’t right about the situation.

  Anger, hurt and frustration battled within Remy. He might be respected as a man if he hadn’t come out, but because he’d admitted he was gay and carried on with another man in public, he’d become lesser to those in the Coalition. That wasn’t right. The damn fools feared what they didn’t understand.

  He dug through his bag for a pen and scrawled notes in the margins of the Coalition rhetoric. The festival had been a good start, but it wasn’t enough. The people in Cedarwood who believed in freedom for everyone needed to come together. They needed to prove to those who hadn’t come out or were afraid to do so that there wasn’t any shame in admitting who they were.

  Remy switched to a fresh notebook. He wasn’t going to marginalize the gay community. He grinned as he outlined his first piece about the Coalition. Once he got the article written, he’d head to the swim meet and hopefully run into Bobby. Boy, did he have one hell of a story to tell his crush.

  * * * *

  Two hours and almost half a notebook later, Remy stretched on the bench. He’d taken one hell of a long lunch, but at least his hours at the paper were fluid. They didn’t expect a written account of where he’d been as long as he had the stories to fill the pages of The Tribune .

  He stood and tucked his work back into his bag, then tossed his cup into the trash. He hurried back to the parking lot. If he kept moving, he’d get to the swim meet on time. He drove across town to the metro park. As soon as he turned into the lot, he groaned. He should’ve known there wouldn’t be any spots open. Instead of cruising the aisles for a spot, he continued around the corner to the gravel lot by the running trails.

  He grabbed his bag and locked the car, then headed to the building. Once inside, he took his place at the edge of the room. He was supposed to interview a girl from Lakeside after the one-hundred-meter breaststroke. As he surveyed the crowd, he noticed Bobby. Fuck yeah. Remy left his usual spot by the doors. Hopefully Bobby wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see Bobby.

  “Bobby? Hey. Hi.” He bit back a groan. He’d already started babbling. “How are you?”

  “Remy.” Bobby smiled and stepped aside. “Are you covering the meet?”

  “Yeah. I’m doing an interview at the end. It’ll be the athlete of the week feature.” He folded his arms. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” But I’m glad as hell you are.

  “I like swimming.” He tapped the kid next to him. “Chris, this is my friend Remy.” He turned his attention back to Remy. “I’d like to introduce you to my son, Chris. He runs cross-country. My daughter, Darcy, is in the one-hundred-meter backstroke.”

  “Hi.” Remy shook hands wit
h Chris. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you as well,” Chris replied. “Maybe this fall you’ll do a feature on me. I’m all ready to shatter the competition.”

  “Christopher ran cross-country for his former school and managed three school records.” Bobby’s smile widened. “I’m proud of my boy.”

  “You should be.” Remy tried not to stare, but wow. He hadn’t expected Bobby to say he was a parent, much less the parent of a teenager. Jesus. He’d seen him with the kids, but for all he knew, they were his niece and nephew or something. Chris didn’t look a thing like him, either. He tamped down his irritation as much as possible, but damn . Why did the hot guys all have kids? Was he at that age where he’d have to settle for someone with children because the single, childless men weren’t available?

  He focused on the swimmers shooting across the pool. He didn’t want Bobby’s status as a parent to be a big thing. It shouldn’t be a deal-breaker, he reasoned. But it was. He wasn’t a kid person. He didn’t know how to relate to kids. He treated them the same way he’d been treated—like a miniature adult. Kids yelled, screamed and were messy. Kids required attention all of the time, and maybe he was a jerk, but he liked to focus on his partner. If the partner couldn’t give him adequate attention, he might as well move on. But that was part of his problem. He’d been ignored by his family until he got old enough to take care of himself. Maybe he expected too much from his partners and kids. He wasn’t sure.

  “You look like you’re going to jump in the pool,” Bobby said. His breath tickled Remy’s ear.

  “No. I’m okay.” He’d get over his issues in a moment. He jotted down the names and times for the swimmers. He had to focus on his job. He wasn’t at the meet to get a date.

  “Think we could talk later? Or do you have plans?” Bobby asked. “I’m taking Darce and Chris to the Italian place over by the freeway once we’re done. She’s always starving after a meet and the prices are decent. My treat.”

  How can I say no? Remy didn’t answer right away. As much as he wanted to spend time with Bobby, he wasn’t sure he could do it without sounding like a dick.