Pet

by Lesli Richardson

  Both men look ready to laugh when Lucas enters the kitchen. The men quickly school their expressions.

  Lucas notices Nolan. “Hey. Didn’t know you were here.”

  “Just arrived.” He clears his throat and glances at me. “They’re spraying my apartment this weekend. Zoey and Arlo offered to let me hang here with them.”

  “Cool.” Lucas leans against the counter and looks at the floor. He always has liked Nolan. He’s known Nolan as long as he’s known Lucas. Like a bonus dad to him, in many ways.

  I turn up the heat on the skillet, on the chicken and veggies, to finish them off. At least we’ll have enough for dinner for all of us.

  “You ready to talk?” I ask my son.

  Lucas takes a long time to build up the courage. I read it in his face, the way his jaw tenses and works. It surprises me when he looks at Nolan to deliver his announcement. “Dad can’t accept who I am.”

  My eyebrows arch. “Honey, would you care to be a little more specific?”

  The things Bill Webb cannot accept about other people covers a large enough swath of land it could be turned into a national park.

  His voice drops as his gaze lowers. “He walked in on me with someone this afternoon. Mary was still at work, and he came home from work early. I didn’t think he was going to be home until eight tonight.”

  He scratches at his right eyebrow, where a stainless ring pierces it. He got it a few months ago. I’m not happy about that, but I’ll never say anything about it, either. It’s not a battle worth fighting right now.

  “Your dad threw you out because he caught you with a girl?” I ask.

  Now I’m really confused. I could understand Bill possibly reading him the riot act out of parental responsibility. Especially if the girl is younger than Lucas. Even Bill isn’t that out of touch with common sense. Although, to be honest, I’d expect Bill to be an ass, probably grin and give him an attaboy.

  But to throw our son out and disown him?

  Especially when the sonofabitch can’t keep his own goddamned pants zipped?

  Really?

  Lucas takes a deep breath. He speaks so softly I almost don’t hear his next words. “He didn’t catch me with a girl.”

  Arlo, Nolan, and I all exchange a glance with each other. Lucas looks up, first to Arlo, then Nolan, then me. “He caught me with Caine.”

  I blink, stunned into silence. I need a moment to figure out the best thing to say in response.

  Laughing isn’t an option, even though I honestly feel like it. Lucas is upset and would mistake the reason behind it and not understand it is relief.

  “Let me get this straight,” I carefully start. “Your dad threw you out…because he found out you’re gay?”

  He nods as tears well in his eyes.

  I step forward and pull him into my arms as he starts sobbing. Both men instinctively step in, enveloping us in their embrace.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “We love you. It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re finally home, where you belong, and we love you.”

  I close my eyes and fight my own tears as he sobs in my arms. Of all the bombshells Lucas could have dropped on us, being gay isn’t even in the same ballpark of what I consider “bad” news.

  Does it make me a shitty, petty person that inside I’m silently doing a touchdown dance? Because it likely means Bill will never again take my son from me.

  I know it makes me petty to wish I’d known this years ago, so I could’ve used it then to get Bill to disown Lucas.

  I’ll own that pettiness, except you need to understand how much heartache this boy has brought to me and Arlo because of his father manipulating him.

  Yet I still love Lucas, because he’s mine. We both nearly died when he was born, and I will absolutely give thanks to any powers that be if Bill Motherfucking Webb is finally out of our lives for good.

  Lucas cries for several minutes while we maintain our group hug. Eventually, he sniffles and steps back, the men also releasing us. Nolan hands Lucas a wad of paper towels, which he gratefully accepts.

  I don’t miss the look the men exchange. This will change our plans, and not just for the weekend, either. Exactly how remains to be seen. Regardless, I thank god I insisted Nolan spend the weekend anyway.

  While I’m open-minded and not the least bit upset by my son’s admission, I have no practical experience being a gay man. At least Nolan and Arlo can help guide him, even though Lucas doesn’t know that yet.

  I sigh. “Let’s sit down and eat. Then we can talk after dinner. Okay?”

  Lucas nods, looking for once like my little boy and not the almost-man he’s become. He opens a cabinet and starts pulling out plates without any prompting from us.

  The three of us exchange another shocked glance.

  Lucas setting the table without being asked?

  Wow, he really is upset.

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  The following is a free preview from How Many Times Do I Have to Say I’m Sorry? (Maudlin Falls 1) by Lesli Richardson. (MM, fluffy, sweet, small-town, low-angst, second-chance romance. HEA.)

  Description

  Welcome to Maudlin Falls, where the people are nice, the drama is plenty, and you have to fight to keep the cat out of the peanut butter…

  Let me tell you a story.

  Boy meets boy.

  Boy falls. Hard.

  Then boy screws up. Majorly. And has to win the other boy back.

  How does it end?

  I’ll let you know. It’s still a work in progress.

  One thing’s for certain—I never make the same mistake twice.

  Sometimes, I make it three or four times.

  (Warning: Features an adorable doofus with really bad luck, a snarky introvert with the world’s most badly behaved cat, annoyingly loving and pushy friends, and cringingly bad karaoke. Oh, and an HEA, if they can all get their acts together.)

  Tomas

  This is ridiculous.

  Across the table from me, Edith Abercrombie rambles on about her book club’s latest selection. Now don’t get me wrong, I love the crotchety old woman. In some ways, we’re absolute soul mates.

  But all I wanted to do early this Tuesday morning was sit here, sip my coffee, scroll through the morning news on my tablet, and eat my breakfast in peace.

  Apparently, that’s not happening.

  Nearly every morning before I go in to work, I eat breakfast here at Alacea’s Diner, which is owned by a very nice guy named Bob. Most days lately, I can’t stand the dark silence of my home where memories of my old morning routine start to inevitably peck away at my heart.

  Unfortunately Edith, and most everyone else in town, also knows this fact. My breakfast habits, that is, not my morning funk. They usually feel they have to sit down with me so I’m not “lonely.”

  They don’t understand that I’m not looking for company. Except I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by asking them to leave me alone.

  I force a smile as Edith stops talking long enough to sip from her own coffee cup. “It sounds like you already have a full house for book club tonight,” I tell her. “Besides, I don’t have a lot of time for pleasure reading right now. We’re going to start receiving our holiday stock soon and I need to plan my displays.”

  That’s hopefully enough to deter her.

  For now. Usually, claiming something about work makes people back off.

  Her grey eyebrows adorably lift. “But sweetie, you’re all alone in that huge house every night! I can always make room on the sofa for you, believe me.”

  “I’m not alone. Jester keeps me company.” And my house isn’t huge. It’s a three-two, the same house I was raised in, and it’s only a couple of blocks from my store.

  Although it has felt pretty empty the last three—

  No. Not thinking about him right now.

  It’s exactly the kind of weakness Edith
would seize upon to insist I show up at her book club tonight, and she won’t hesitate to try to enlist help from everyone else if she senses even the slightest weakness in me.

  She nudges her wire-rimmed glasses up her nose. “You’re all alone with your cat, honey.”

  “Having a cat means I’m not alone.”

  Her lips purse. “How are your parents doing? I e-mailed Paulette yesterday but she hasn’t e-mailed me back yet.”

  “They’re out in Wyoming right now. She probably doesn’t have cell service, much less Internet. They’re enjoying Yellowstone.”

  Her eyebrows lift again. “Ah. Are they having fun? I’ve missed them.”

  “I know Dad’s having fun. Mom’s probably just glad to be retired.” I force another smile, something I’m pretty good at doing. “I’m sure there’s a ‘misery loves company’ aspect to him passing the store to me that she’s enjoying like crazy.”

  Don’t get me wrong. I love my parents, and I don’t begrudge them their nomadic lifestyle, either. They’ve earned every bit of their retirement. Mom was principal of Maudlin Falls High for over twenty years after teaching there another ten years before that.

  I like even better that they don’t live here full-time anymore. Otherwise, Dad would be in the store every day, just wanting to “help” while doing anything but. For the past six years, they’ve been on the road and enjoying their life. Meaning I’ve had free rein to bring the store into a more modern age without having to spend most of my time trying to talk my dad into the changes first.

  Mom confided in me that was one reason she put her foot down about wanting to buy the condo in Arizona that’s their new “home.” When they visit Maudlin Falls, they’ll sometimes stay with me, but usually prefer their RV, which they can park in my backyard.

  We all need our personal space.

  Edith chuckles. “She might have mentioned something about that when she finally put her foot down and made Ronald officially hand it over to you.” Her smile fades. “How soon before you get sick of it? Of running a store in a small town?”

  I shrug, sitting back in the booth. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home and where I belong.”

  “But don’t you miss…” Fortunately, she lets her words drift into the abyss. “We really need to find you a new boyfriend, sweetie.” She sharply nods, as if that’s that.

  Resigned, I pull out my standard answer and drop it on the table. “Edith, you know I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about my personal life.” I pick up my tablet again. “I just want to finish my morning paper before I head to the store. Not to be rude, but if you’ll please excuse me.” I tip my head toward her table, where her friend Carlene is chatting over the back of her booth seat with yet another friend. “Besides, looks like your food’s ready.”

  She finally hauls herself out of the other side of the booth. She leans in and kisses the top of my head before she picks up her cup of coffee, which she’d carried over from her own table where the waitress is now setting down Edith and Carlene’s food.

  “You know where I live, sweetie. First Tuesday evening of every month, seven sharp. I’ll even feed you my famous homemade blueberry pie.”

  “I know. Thank you.” Once I’m alone again, I breathe a sigh of relief and resume reading. I love Edith and my other friends. I really do.

  But I get more than my fair share of “peopling” at work. When I’m done for the day, all I want to do is vegetate on my sofa.

  Okay, yes, usually reading, but reading doesn’t mean I want to be in a book club.

  I expend enough energy trying to put on a smiling face every day, meaning I don’t have any to spare after hours.

  No matter how well-intentioned my friends might be.

  It’s 6:35 a.m. when I unlock the hardware store’s back door, let myself in, and shut off the alarm. We don’t open until 7:30 today but I always like to be early.

  I enjoy the quiet.

  The store’s been in my family for over fifty years. My dad’s father started it and kept it running until Dad took over. Grandpa has been dead over twenty years, but I remember when he still worked in the store, even after my father was technically running it.

  Grandpa never could let it go, and it was forever a source of irritation to Dad, who felt it was passive-aggressive commentary on how he ran it.

  It wasn’t, though. Grandpa just wanted to feel…useful. Needed.

  Like he wasn’t being put out to pasture.

  I think I always knew I’d end up running it, mostly because I wanted to. Both my parents and Grandpa insisted I go to college first, though. My business degree and marketing minor have helped me keep our local store relevant when many others like it have long since folded. From my grandfather and father I learned the fine arts of customer service, communication, and building community loyalty.

  It’s why I know a little about everything from horse feed to electrical wiring, from holiday light displays to raising chickens, from smokers to canning systems, and the difference between mustard greens and collard greens.

  It’s why people will pay a little extra to purchase from my store rather than order something from Amazon, or drive all the way over to the large home improvement store in Colley. In fact, I frequently have customers drive all the way here from Colley, because I will special order items, or stock things that the big-box store can’t be bothered to order.

  I don’t take that community support for granted, either. I guarantee you when a water pipe explodes in your basement in the middle of the night and you can’t afford an emergency plumber call, the Mega Warehouse manager won’t get out of bed to sell you what you need to fix it so your kids can flush the toilet in the morning when they get up for school.

  He also won’t hurry over to your house to look at the situation first to see exactly what you need and make sure you know how to safely remedy the issue.

  Or roll up his sleeves to show you how to properly braze a new pipe into place.

  It’s impossible for me to compete on price and volume, so I make up for that in other ways. So far, it’s provided me with a comfortable life. Adjusted for inflation, the store’s even more profitable now than when my father and grandfather ran it. Years ago, my father learned not to kvetch at me when I came up with new ideas, like kids’ classes, and partnering with the library to create exhibits. I don’t mean I’m rich—far from it.

  But I don’t have a mortgage on the house or the store, we pay our bills on time, I can afford to pay my employees a decent wage that keeps them loyal to me, and I can even give them health insurance, full-timers as well as the part-timers.

  Overall, life is good.

  Even if it feels like I encounter painful memories every time I turn around. If there is one area of my life that’s not blessed, it’s my love life. Apparently, all the blessings I have gained are balanced out by that dark emotional cave I do my best to avoid. Three years out, you’d think I’d have moved on.

  Not so much, it turns out.

  I flip on lights as I make my way through the building and, eventually, upstairs to my office on the second floor. I take the stairs instead of the elevator to the upstairs, because I need the exercise, quite frankly.

  Today, we’re holding a class on orchids for the ladies’ group from the Methodist church, but that’s not until after lunch. We do more than just teach our classes here—we loan and rent the space out to other local groups and events, too. Sometimes, we have more than one thing going on, because we have a smaller, unused office that we use for things like meetings and potlucks in addition to the larger space. It used to be my dad’s office, but Mom finally made him clean it out and I haven’t had the heart to use it for anything else.

  We have guest presenters come in to lecture and teach on a variety of topics. We bring in small artisan shows. We host the local schools’ science fair competitions every year, plus we work closely with the science departments of those schools to help them with their curriculums.

  W
e are the community.

  I think Dad truly started letting go of his control of the store and ceding daily operations to me twelve years ago when one of the first decisions I made after graduating college and returning home was to contact the schools and arrange the science fair program. He didn’t see the value in it, until the initial bump in sales following that deal continued to grow with parents admitting they wanted to shop with us if we were that vested in their kids.

  Loyalty.

  Something I prize, something woven into the very fabric of my family’s history.

  Something I wish others valued as much as I do.

  Something that got my heart shattered—forgetting that loyalty isn’t a universal trait in others.

  * * *

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  * * *

  Writing as Lesli Richardson:

  * * *

  The Bleacke Shifter Series:

  1) Bleacke’s Geek

  2) Geek Chic

  3) A Bleacke Wind

  4) Bleacke Spirit

  5) A Bleacke Christmas

  6) Geek-Speak

  7) Bleacke Expectations

  8) Bleacke Moments

  * * *

  The Great Turning Series:

  1) The Great Turning

  2) The Great Turning: Into the Turn

  3) The Great Turning: Future Ages

  * * *

  Governor Trilogy:

  1) Governor

  2) Lieutenant

  3) Chief

  4) Yes, Governor

  5) Pet

  * * *

  Determination Trilogy: