“Later.” I waved to my weekly cycling group, which mostly consisted of men but a few women as well. We rode every Sunday morning, rain or shine. My last competition of the season was coming up next week—a charity race I’d been training for the last few weeks—so I welcomed any extra time on my bike, and sometimes it was nice to have company.

Pulling my ten-speed onto the curb, I rolled it through the back door of Spin Cycle to the corner of my office, where I also dabbled in rebuilding road bikes. I even added a couple of special features to mine to help with comfort on longer rides, like a well-padded seat.

I slid a pair of track pants over my bike shorts, and just as I was changing my shirt, I heard my manager, Jerome, key into the front entrance.

“How’s it going?” I asked, stepping into the showroom as I tugged my shirt over my waistband.

“Good,” he replied, setting his bag on the glass countertop, where we kept a display of accessories. “We did pretty well with the sale yesterday.”

“Here’s hoping we have the same luck today,” I replied, crossing my fingers.

“We definitely should.” He fired up the computer and unlocked the cash drawer. “The weather’s been nice, so that always brings in customers.”

In fact, the fall had been gorgeous this season. Normally it was a crapshoot in this part of the country, with more rainy days than anything else. But this year the trees were vibrant with color, and riding through the Metroparks this morning had felt almost magical.

I adjusted the sign propped on an easel near the door, counting down the days to Christmas. Jerome thought it would get parents thinking about bikes under the tree, and I figured he was right on. He was always thinking up good advertising campaigns to bring in new customers, which is why he was acing his marketing program at CSU.

The winter season was the worst for us, especially the two months after the holidays, so I socked away what I could for those leaner months. Thankfully it was only me, Jerome, and a part-timer who worked for us in December and sometimes after Memorial Day.

I flipped the sign on the door to OPEN, and we got to work, welcoming the weekend crowd, which was a mix of families and serious cyclists like me who were interested in all the gear that would help them compete better. I normally handled those customers since I was well-versed in the competitive sport. Jerome’s strength besides promotional ideas was how charismatic he was with the kids and families—and let’s face it, gay men—so he was invaluable to have around.

When there was a lull in customers, I organized the display case and then went back to tinkering with a bike I was rebuilding. Never one to do well with downtime, I was always moving to keep myself busy. Jerome joked that we had the cleanest store on the block since I was always wiping streaks off the glass or sweeping the front walk. I got the same flak from friends about my apartment, especially Elijah, who could leave a mess with the best of them. So his viewpoint was a bit skewed.

Grinning to myself, I thought about Olivia talking him into joining us yesterday. With a little help from me as well. But unless I was way off, he had a blast. We rode around the neighborhood and ended up at Madison Park, where he pushed her on the swing. In some ways, he acted like a kid himself, so he went down the slide and across the monkey bars his fair share as well, while I took way too many photos and laughed at their antics.

I was relieved he could shake that surprise run-in with Stewart. Just as I’d suspected, he’d showed up at his place after Bent, so my last-minute decision to drive him to my apartment instead had been a sound one. I didn’t ask Elijah what their conversation had been about, but with each encounter he seemed stronger. I personally wanted to kick the guy’s ass for acting like a controlling bastard the months they were together.

Sounded a whole lot like West’s ex, Michael. Those two assholes together in close quarters would be interesting to watch. It was probably a good thing Elijah and West were roommates right now, to lean on each other for support. Because honestly, it was up to Elijah to make a clean break from Stewart, no other way around it.

For lunch, I took Jerome’s order and drove to Thai Kitchen. It was a small place with only a couple of tables, but it was still packed with locals ordering takeout.

As soon as I walked through the door, I was greeted by regulars who knew me by name.

Paa—short for Bpaa—“older aunt” in Thai—was at the counter, ringing up orders, and Mae—Mom—was hard at work in the kitchen. Birth names were rarely used in informal settings in Thai culture. Most everyone had a nickname, and though we were in America, this tradition still continued in our family and throughout the small Thai community here.

“What’s for lunch today, Nok?” Paa asked, using her nickname for me, which meant bird.

“Jerome wants the usual.” Thai food represented comfort to me, and to Jerome too, so he loved when I grabbed lunch here.

“Tom yum goong?” she asked to be sure he wanted the shrimp soup, and I nodded. “And you?”

“Let’s see…” I said, looking up at the menu on display behind her on the wall, even though I only ever ordered the same three or four dishes. “Geng kheaw gai.” The idea of Mae’s green curry chicken made my stomach rumble.

I stepped behind the counter and spoke to Mae through the little window to the kitchen while she cooked. I told her about our sale and that the store was pretty steady with customers this weekend.

“You work too hard, Nok,” Mae remarked as she wiped her brow with her forearm.

“Look who I take after?” I asked with an arched brow, and she ignored me as she normally did. She loved owning this business, so she rarely complained. My mother and aunt worked well as a team even if they bickered like most siblings did—or cousins who acted like siblings, if you counted my aunt’s kids and me growing up together.

“When will we see our Bee again?” Paa asked. Bee was their nickname for Olivia, which was a simpler English version of hwan hemuxn naphung, which meant “sweet as honey.”

“She’ll be home with me again soon.” Deep affection resonated in my bones any time I thought about my little girl, whom I missed like crazy when she wasn’t with me. But at least I would be taking her trick-or-treating this week with Samantha in their neighborhood. “You know she loves visiting her yaai and bpaa.”

Lunch in hand, I drove back to Spin Cycle, my mouth watering from the smell emanating from the brown bag. We ate across the counter from each other as Jerome texted back and forth with his boyfriend about their plans that evening.

“Tell your mom this is the best batch of soup yet,” he said after slurping down the remainder from the plastic container. Though Mae did the majority of the cooking at the restaurant, their recipes held up regardless of who was in the kitchen that day.

“That’s what you said last time,” I replied with a laugh. “But will do. She’ll love hearing it.”

Just as he was collecting our containers for the trash, his phone beeped again.

“What’s up with Darren lately?” I asked as he looked at his cell and smiled. Jerome was dating Nick’s friend, so it was a small world after all.

“Not much,” he replied, shrugging. “Darren and Nick will be graduating from cosmetology school in April.”

“That’s cool.” Elijah had mentioned that Nick was closing his dad’s engraving business at the end of this year and then would embark on a new venture in the hair-cutting business. Lots of little changes in our circle of friends.

Good changes. And just as I had that thought, a family of four walked through the door, inquiring about a couple of beginner bikes for their twins.