"Fuck!" he said, clutching his chest.
"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!" Gallagher said, fussing over him as if they'd actually collide.
Chet waved him off. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?" He angrily brushed the tears away from his cheeks with the back of one hand.
"Well. Um. I just... I thought seeing the old place might be... I don't know. Unsettling. So I thought I'd come by and offer to take you to brunch."
Chet squinted at him suspiciously. "How'd you know I'd even be here this morning?"
Gallagher surprised Chet by laughing at him. "Wow. You really have been gone from Rubyville a long time." At Chet's blank look, Nick said, "I went to get coffee at the diner and the early birds' sole topic of conversation was how Myrtle at the hotel had been by and said you'd headed out toward the old place this morning."
Chet took a moment to process that, then said, "Gossip will outlive us somehow, I'm sure of it. The cockroaches will learn how to do it and there'll be roaches whispering about which roaches are cheating on what roaches, and which roaches are drinking too much."
Gallagher was looking at him like his third eyeball was showing.
"What?"
"Just—are you sure you're okay? Because, I gotta say, you sound a little spacey right now."
"I'm just your standard depressive demon nightmare boy," Chet said, feeling a little delirious, despite what he'd said.
Gallagher squinted for a long moment, then his face cleared. "Like the opposite of a manic pixie dream girl? Yeah, I'm gonna take that as an 'I have trouble asking for help, but I am actually really messed up right now' cry for help and take you to brunch."
Chet massaged his temples with the thumb and middle finger of one hand. After a long moment, he nodded. When Nick walked down the steps, Chet followed, not even caring where they were headed.
6
Nick drove them in silence for a few minutes. He was genuinely concerned for Chet's well-being. He wasn't sure if this was normal behavior for Chet when he was stressed or not, but it didn't seem like Chet was handling things too well from where he was sitting.
"So," he said after he couldn't take the quiet any longer. "You wanna talk about it?"
Chet sighed. "No. But since we both know it's the healthy thing to do, I guess I should."
"Only if you're comfortable." Nick pulled to a stop at the crossroads that the farm road ended in. "Where would you like to go?"
"Are you four-twenty friendly?" Chet asked instead of answering.
"I—what?" He knew what it meant, but the question had thrown Nick.
Chet sighed again. "If I'm going to talk about this, I'd like to be high when I do it. I know you're a lawyer, but how strictly do you adhere to the law?"
Nick decided not to mention that he'd practically majored in marijuana during college and the only reason he didn't smoke much now was that he was just too damn busy. His stomach rumbled before he could decide on the best response, so he figured food was his priority.
"Can we still have brunch after you smoke?"
"Food will definitely be on my agenda after I smoke, yes," Chet said, starting to smile a bit now. "The munchies are not an old wives' tale, believe me."
Nick rolled his eyes. "I have smoked before, you know. Where are you going to get weed? I mean, I know a guy, but he doesn't work on short notice."
"Oh, I brought some with me. It's in my bag at the hotel."
"You rode dirty across state lines?" Nick asked, incredulous. He turned the car in the direction of town.
Chet shrugged.
"As your lawyer, I'm appalled. As your... acquaintance, I'm impressed by your massive balls."
Chet snorted. "You wish you could see my massive balls."
"Are you high already?"
"No! I just... sorry, stress makes me act goofy sometimes."
"Don't apologize. Being sick does me the same way. It's like a self-defense thing, I think. An 'I feel shitty, therefore, I will pretend the world is nothing but a giant joke' sort of thing."
"Yeah," Chet agreed. "Pretty much."
Conversation stalled after that as Nick got them to the hotel. Chet led them inside to his room and then Nick watched as Chet dug through his suitcase. He withdrew a small case and unzipped it, revealing two glass containers of greenish powder, a pipe and a lighter. Neither of them spoke as Chet grabbed a vial and filled the pipe, then walked to the bathroom. He flipped on the exhaust fan, then turned back to Nick.
"You gonna hit this with me?"
Nick was tempted, but after a moment, he shook his head. "Better not, since I'm driving. I've got appointments this afternoon, anyway."
"Suit yourself. I'll be out in a minute, then." Chet walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
Nick used the time to check emails on his phone. There was nothing urgent, which was just as well because Chet wasn't gone for very long at all. When he came out, he was still unaltered, so far as Nick could tell. Apparently whatever he was smoking wasn't that fast acting.
"Okay, it'll probably take about fifteen minutes before it really starts taking effect. We can probably get to the diner and order before then, I think," Chet said.
"Sounds like a plan. After you," Nick said, gesturing at the door.
Since the hotel was not far from the diner, they opted to just walk, rather than drive. It was turning out to be a rare warm day, which was common for South Carolina in February, but this was the first time they'd seen it this year. Nick was glad he didn't have to be bundled up to his eyes for once. The sunshine and blue sky also helped him keep his mood up, not that he had much to be upset about at the moment. He wondered if it was helping Chet too, but he didn't ask.
"I love this weather," Chet said, paralleling Nick's thoughts. "I wish all days were this beautiful. Well," he said, stopping to consider. "Not all days. I do like rain sometimes, and I don't mind the snow when it isn't too cold, but I love mild sunny days. Life feels a lot more hopeful when the sky's blue, you know?"
"I was just thinking that actually. It always makes me feel better. I've heard people say it's the vitamin D, but honestly, I think it just... feels good. I don't know."
"Yeah. I love how the sun feels on my face. And that sky blue just makes me happy to look at. Hard to be down on a day like today. Not impossible," Chet said with a laugh. "But harder than on a cold or a rainy day."
Nick nodded, smiling thoughtfully. "So how do you like living in Nashville? Is it a lot different from here?" Nick wasn't sure what had made him ask. His mind had just jumped from Rubyville weather to Nashville weather and his mouth had done the rest.
"Oh. Um. Yeah, it's great there. I mean, every place has its flaws, obviously, but it's pretty good. Lots to do there, lots of old, cool places still around. As for being different, I mean, Rubyville is a tiny town and Nashville is a big city, getting bigger all the time, so they don't really even compare. There are places that still have a small town vibe, though, I guess. Fewer than there were when I got there, but there's some still around."
By then they'd reached the diner, so Nick held in any further questions for the moment. The hostess seated them in a booth near the back, one of the last available seats from the look of it. It was unusual for this time of day for there to be such a rush. Thankfully, they were barely in their seats before the waitress came to take their drink orders.
"Hey, Nick! Hi, Nick's friend!"
"Hey, Maggie. This is Chet. What's with the packed house? Y'all running a brunch special I don't know about?"
"You didn't hear? They had a kitchen fire over at Sloane's this morning and had to close for the day, so we've got their usual crowd as well as ours." She pulled a pen from behind her ear and a pad from her apron pocket. "You guys want coffee or something else?"
"Uh, I'll have coffee and also orange juice," Chet said.
"Coffee and water."
"Can do. You ready to order or you need a minute?"
"We probably need a minute. Thanks."
"Okay
, be right back with those drinks."
"Is it weird being back here? Everybody knowing everybody else and all that?" Nick asked when Maggie had gone.
Chet shrugged, pulling a few sugar packets from the container by the wall. "I mean, that part isn't so weird for me. I tend to run in circles where people know me and I go to the same restaurants a lot, so I get recognized there too." He shook the packets absently, staring over Nick's shoulder. "But being back is weird. So much has changed and yet so little." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Being back in the house was... difficult. And definitely weird."
"Do you ever miss being here? Or was it all bad news?" Nick busied himself with unrolling his silverware, rather than make eye contact.
"Sometimes I miss things. The lake in the summer. The lack of traffic. The quiet." Chet set his sugar packets down. "How about you? Ever long for the city life again?"
"Only when I want take out," Nick said with a grin.
"Oh, man, the food in Nashville is the best part." Suddenly Chet's face broke into a dopey grin. "Mm, there it is." At Nick's questioning look, he added, "My buzz has officially arrived." He closed his eyes, grin holding firm.
"Looks like you made the right call, going to the hotel on the way here. You are definitely in a better mood than you were."
"My only real regret is that I didn't discover weed sooner. I bet high school would have been a helluva lot easier if I'd been able to get high once in a while." Chet waved a dismissive hand. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't really use it recreationally. It's mostly for bad anxiety days or when I really need to sleep and can't do it without help, but I do enjoy how it feels when it takes my anxiety away."
"Yeah, I totally get that. I tried it in high school and didn't like it, but a friend got me to give it a second chance the night before a big exam in law school. Changed my life, as far as school went. I'm fully convinced I'd have flunked out without it. Too much stress."
Chet nodded, not saying anything, but still smiling. When he saw Maggie coming, his eyes brightened and he beamed at her.
"Look, Nick, it is the Coffee Goddess, Lady Maggie!"
She gave them a bemused laugh as she set their drinks on the table. "All righty. Somebody is feeling pretty good this morning. Have you decided on food yet?"
"Oops! I forgot to look. But I bet Nick already knows what he wants, and I will have the exact same thing!" Chet's personality was growing more bubbly by the second, his voice practically a singsong.
"Two brunch platters. Thanks, Maggie." Nick smiled at her, not bothering to make excuses or apologies. She could think what she liked.
"Can do, boys. Have those out as soon as they make 'em." She walked away shaking her head.
"Wow, you're really... enthusiastic when you're high, huh?" Nick asked, smiling indulgently as he began adding cream and sugar to his coffee.
"Am I? Hm. Might be hitting me harder than normal. I'm usually pretty chill when I smoke. Ooh, pancakes," Chet said, spying a little breakfast card near the sugar. He finally started to prepare his coffee, as if just seeing the sugar made him remember it was there. "Are there pancakes on the brunch plate?"
"Yes. And a lot of other things. Don't worry, you'll find plenty to eat."
Chet closed his eyes as he sipped his coffee. "Mm. I love coffee so much. This is good coffee too. Not bitter, not burnt. Yum."
"Yeah, I used to hate it when I was younger, but once I got into my last year of law school, I started to live on it. Now I'm fully addicted and I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have a machine with a timer to make it for me every morning."
"So you started smoking weed and drinking crack in law school. Good to know," Chet said with a grin. He sipped more coffee. "Thanks for the rescue this morning, Gallagher."
Nick cringed. He was used to Gallagher, but mostly from hypermasculine former classmates or business associates who didn't know him that well. He was Nick to his real friends—and he wanted Chet to be a real friend.
"Hey, do you think you could call me Nick? I really prefer it, if you don't mind."
"Oh. Yeah, sure thing. Thanks for the rescue, Nick." Chet grinned again. "I was having a very shitty morning. My stupid dead father turned my sad dead mom's sewing room into a shitty, emotionless office space and sucked all the life out of my favorite room in that shitty old house." He frowned. "I'm saying shitty a lot, aren't I?" His face cleared. "Well, I'm talking about my dad, so that makes sense. He was a shitty dad. And husband. And person. I'd be a way better head of the farm than he ever was."
"I bet you would, Chet," Nick said truthfully.
Chet smiled beatifically at him. "Thank you. That means a lot. You're a smart lawyer type, so you know these things. Wow, I am really high," he said, eyes widening. "I don't normally get this ridiculous. I mean, I can hear how I sound, I just can't, like, stop it." He closed his eyes and slapped his forehead, in a classic ‘I can’t believe I am so dim’ gesture.
"What's wrong?"
"My guy gave me some new stuff that was supposed to be just for sleeping. It's different than what I normally smoke for anxiety. Stronger. I must have used the wrong vial. I normally have two of the same, so I just didn't think. Shit. No wonder I'm loopy today."
They were saved from any further discussion on the subject because the food arrived and Chet's munchies had fully set in by then, apparently. He wasn't even overly ebullient with Maggie because he was seemingly too focused on getting the food into his face. Nick didn't mind. He was pretty hungry himself.
The food was really good and neither of them felt the need to talk while they ate it. Chet was lost in a pot-fueled world of his own, anyway, and Nick was happy for the silence to contemplate just why he so badly wanted Chet to take over the farm. With their track record—thanks to his own poor judgment—it was unlikely that anything romantic would ever develop between them, but Nick couldn't help but hope anyway. Seeing Chet high and relaxed had allowed him to imagine what it would be like if Chet weren't always so serious and on guard when Nick was around. To picture what a real date—not just a friendly brunch—would be like between them. He wanted it. Would a year be enough to talk Chet around to giving him a chance? Maybe. If Chet decided to stay, Nick fully intended to find out.
Chet had said he couldn't forget, but Nick had to know if that was true. He didn't deserve a second chance, but damn did he ever want one.
7
The idea was insane. Why the hell would Chet leave his life in Nashville for a year to stay in the town he'd hated his entire life and run the farm his father—whom he had also hated his entire life—had left for him?
And yet, somehow, that's exactly what Chet found himself thinking of doing.
When Gallagher—Nick, he'd asked to be called Nick—had first told him that his father had left it all to him with the stipulation of staying for a year, Chet's immediate internal response had been "What the fuck?" followed by "No fucking way!"
So how had he come around to the idea that it would be good for him? That it would be a way to prove to himself that he wasn't the fuck up his old man had always said he was? Hadn't he moved away, started his own life, and built his own business from the ground up, in order to do that very thing? Why then would he give all that up to come back here?
Maybe because he needed to know for himself that he could be as good or better than his father at running the farm... and do it without being an abusive, hateful bastard who didn't care about anyone but himself. Maybe Chet felt the need to be better at being Walker Barnaby than Walker Barnaby had been.
There was more that Chet needed to know before he made any decisions. He'd been poring over paperwork for hours. Considering all his options. Giving serious consideration to staying was an idea that had come to him while he was high, so Chet wanted to make doubly sure he wasn't being an idiot to even consider the possibility of accepting the inheritance and running the farm.
Finally, when he couldn't bear to stare at spreadsheets any longer and knew he needed a second o
pinion, he called his best friend in Nashville for advice. Reuben answered on the third ring, sounding annoyed.
"Ugh, what? Are you calling to say you're on your way back from Hickville, finally?"
"How are you so much more camp than me when you're bisexual?"
"Are you kidding? I get so much more pussy being a queen."
It was a frequent joke between them and it cut straight through Reuben's annoyance.
"Seriously, though, baby, how are you? I know going back there can't be a picnic, even if your dad did finally kick it."
Chet laughed. "I miss you. You're the most blunt, awful person that I know. It helps. People here are too polite." He hesitated, but knew he had to ask before he chickened out. "There's a plot twist, though."
"Ooh, hot boy?"
Nick's face flashed into Chet's traitorous mind for an instant before he shook it away. "No! No boys. No men. It's more of a business twist."
"Boring. The mayor wants a life coach?"
"Idiot. No. Actually... well, my dad left me the farm and the house and all his money."
"Holy shit, Chet, bury the damn lead why don't you!" Reuben said, sounding as shocked as Chet had felt when he learned of the inheritance.
"There's a catch," Chet said, not quite ready to come out with everything yet.
Reuben groaned. "Of course there fucking is. What catch? You gotta marry the Widow Wannamaker's daughter in order for your gay ass to inherit?"
"Ha!" Chet laughed genuinely. "Nothing quite so dramatic, thankfully. But... it would mean living here for a year. I can't have any of it otherwise."
"What, seriously?” Reuben sounded even more shocked than Chet had expected. “Live in Podunk, USA for a whole year? You hate that place!"
"Well, I mean, I did, but turns out a lot of what I hated was my dad.” Nick once again popped into Chet’s mind and he banished him once more. “I don't know. It's a lot of money and... part of me wants to do it."
Home to Stay (Southern Boys Book 2) Page 3
