To his credit, Orion managed to wait until supper that night to ask.

“So, do you know anything about Gabriel and his… uh, situation?”

Gramma thought about it as she poked his mashed potatoes and ate a forkful, clearly evaluating their quality. He sweated until she nodded her approval. “I taught you well. So, this situation… Oh!” She clicked her tongue and put down her fork again. “That boy he was seeing.”

Orion nodded, letting a breath of relief out. He wasn’t outing Gabriel by asking. “You know about him being…?” He fidgeted with his water glass, taking a few sips to give him something to do that made it seem casual. Not too obvious.

What was obvious? That he was interested in Gabriel? As the guy who had taken over the roadside and farmer’s market stalls from his grandma, of course he was interested. That was fine.

“Gay?”

Gramma’s voice brought Orion crashing back to Earth, choking on his water. He wasn’t. Not a chance. Surely he would know by now.

Right?

“Honey, the whole town knew about him when he was a toddler getting the mail in his aunt’s high heels, batting his eyes at the mailman.”

Not me, dumbass, Gabriel! Orion thought with a burst of relief. He coughed for a few moments more before he caught his breath. “Right. I knew, but… I didn’t think people here were. Uh. Cool with that.”

“Come on,” Gramma sighed at him. “It’s the modern world. Hidden Creek keeps up with the times. We’ve even got another screen in the movie theater now! Now, let’s see about your meatloaf.”

Unlike his mashed potatoes, apparently his meatloaf did not pass muster. Orion barely survived the scathing critique buried under the “Hmms” and blessings of his cooking talent. On the bright side, that distracted him from thinking about Gabriel until supper was over and he was washing the dishes.

“Next time, I’ll show you,” Gramma promised. “Now, I’ve got next week’s grocery list written up. Are you sure you can handle it?”

If he didn’t go, she might sneak out before Orion had even woken up and made the short drive from the farmhouse he was renting a couple miles down the road.

It made him briefly wish he’d stayed with her, but she was a light sleeper and she needed her rest—and he’d never been able to walk lightly. Otherwise, he might have become a private investigator instead of going into security. “Of course, Gramma. I’ve been surviving as a lonely bachelor in the big city,” he teased.

“And probably living on takeout and frozen pizzas.” She clicked her tongue and looked him over. “Or leaves, it looks like. So you’re in shape, but you could use a little more padding.”

If only she knew how hard Orion had worked to cut his body fat. But Orion just laughed and shook his head. There was nowhere quite like home and nobody quite like Gramma trying to fatten him up.

It was good to be back.

* * *

“When did this place turn into a meat market?” Orion avoided eye contact with the soccer mom who kept eyeing him and crowded closer to the dairy cooler.

He remembered Jake Hopper, the produce manager, from a decade ago as a friend of his family’s and in his professional role. He’d been over often to look over the fresh produce from their farm and place purchase orders.

Though Orion had been shunted off to school and made to do homework instead of farm work like many farm kids, his uncles did recruit his help occasionally on weekends. They’d always made it clear that like his father had done with agricultural science, Orion was expected to find himself another career—something more modern. Preferably which made use of his skill in reading people and situations. Security was perfect for a kid with his size and people smarts.

Now, of course, the differences were even more stark. He felt overdressed in his fancy wrinkle-free collared shirts, and even his most casual jeans didn’t have a single hole in them. He was clearly catching the eye of women around as a catch. Experience had taught him the hunting look, and he always felt like prey. He wasn’t sure guys were supposed to feel like that, though.

“It always has been. No disrespect to JJ’s Fresh Foods, young man. Marriages have been made here,” Jake told him, wagging a finger.

“Sorry.” Orion laughed. “I’m just not used to, uh, the attention.”

“You came back, son.”

Orion had heard that phrase several times in the last few days, usually with a mix of surprise and delight. He hadn’t expected so many people to remember him—or vice versa. Everyone from the mailman to the town hall clerk was familiar.

It was like slipping into an old plaid shirt, even though he didn’t fit into any of the own old clothing his grandma had hung onto anymore. He’d already tried a few shirts on that afternoon in a vain attempt to blend in. They were all much too tight around the arms and chest. Good to have confirmation that his workout routine was on track.

Oh, man. Without a gym for miles around, how was he going to avoid shedding the form he’d built up? Gramma didn’t have free weights lying around to sling around in the yard. He’d have to pitch in and help his uncles with a few harvests to keep in shape for his job when he headed back. He made another mental note to check in with Pete about how he could help when he wasn’t trying to glue Gramma to the couch.

“I guess I did,” Orion agreed. “And it’s nicer than I thought. Even if I’m not exactly looking for that special someone in the milk aisle.”

“Where better?” Jake winked. “You can learn a lot about someone from what they buy.”

Orion glanced down at his basket. No in-season vegetables—he could get those free from his family—so he was just buying a few greens, shelf-stable ingredients. And more meatloaf supplies for his second attempt, this time to be tutored more closely by Gramma. “Like what?”

Jake followed his gaze. “That you’re the kind of kid who helps out family when they need it, coming all the way back here and doing your gramma’s shopping, too. It’s real good of you.”

Orion flushed and mumbled under his breath, inspecting the bananas—imports, of course—before adding a few to his basket.

“And modest. Quite a catch. You be careful, or there’ll be a ring on your finger before you head back to the world of… freeways and Michelin-starred restaurants.”

What a combination to pick. Orion laughed. “I dunno about that.”

But the more people asked him about his love life, the worse he felt about it. He hadn’t really set time aside since he moved out. People here cared about the rest of life—the things big city denizens kind of forgot.

What you did in your free time, not just your job. Who you lived with and loved, not just who you hung around. Whether you were happy.

Which led Orion back to the uncomfortable question he’d spent years overworking to avoid considering: was he happy?

“See you around, Jake.” He gave Jake a quick smile and moved down the aisle, double-checking for the last few essentials.

“You say hi to your grandma for me.”

“Will do.”

Orion was successful, and that was almost the same thing as happy. Love couldn’t be rushed anyway. The right one would come in time. But definitely not now. Now was inconvenient and unlikely, surrounded as he was by the ghosts of his past.

Speaking of which, that young woman by the register looked familiar. Had he dated her? God, probably sometime.

Orion dawdled around the snack aisle for long enough to let her leave before he approached the register.

This was going to be an interesting couple months, even if the idea of him ending up with a ring around his finger was laughable.

“Did you find everything you wanted today?”

Orion thought he recognized the clerk, too. Not by name, but another one of those familiar faces he’d forgotten that he remembered. He smiled politely and nodded. “Sure. Everything I needed, sir.”

Maybe not all he wanted, but that was life.