CHAPTER SIX
By dinnertime, Beck had unpacked most of his boxes and repacked some of the stuff he wouldn’t need for the next few months. After taking the last of the put-away-for-now boxes to the cellar, he sank into an ancient recliner. He now understood why his grandmother had loved it. He never wanted to get up again, but a few moments later his stomach growled.
He considered what he had in the house for dinner. Pasta and sauce. That was easy enough, but he really wanted something with meat in it, like a burger or a steak. Carnivore food. He’d ridden a horse for the first time in ages, fallen off, and then spent the afternoon unpacking. Not to mention the emotional roller coaster of Cal being an ass and then…wanting him so badly.
Shit! He was going to have to shower, change, and leave the house. If only he could get a pizza delivered. But, oh no. He wasn’t about to consider ordering from anywhere but Pizza King, which only delivered in the city limits—as if a few extra miles would kill them. What he really wanted, though, was one of Trish’s burgers with crinkly fries on the side. Trish’s fries were always crisp, not mushy like crinkly fries often were. But going to the diner meant seeing Trish and God knows who else, not to mention the whispers and looks of disapproval from the assholes in town. But he could get takeout, and then he wouldn’t have to stay long.
Now if he could manage to get out of this chair. Too bad it didn’t have one of those springs in it to shoot him out, like chairs often did in old cartoons.
A half hour or so later he was in the car on the way to town. He’d even put on a button-down shirt after his shower. The last thing he needed was some busybody texting his mother about his unkempt appearance. He slipped through the entrance closest to the register and got in the to-go line. As he waited, he pretended to read something on his phone, keeping his gaze down so no one would recognize him.
“Beckett Davis!”
So much for anonymity. It was Trish herself.
He turned around, and she pulled him into a tight hug.
“It sure took you long enough to come see me.”
“Oh, I was just—”
“Sit down.” She gestured toward a seat at the end of the counter. “I’ll be right back.”
Apparently he wasn’t getting takeout.
He took his seat, hoping none of the other customers at the counter knew him. The people seated closest to him were teenagers, so at least he didn’t have to worry about them.
Trish returned quickly. “Let me guess. A burger and fries.”
Beck smiled. “Right. How did you know?”
“That’s what you always ordered when you came with Helen.”
“Not always.”
“Most of the time. Besides, you’ve been unpacking, so you need hearty food. How about a milkshake to go with it?”
That sounded too heavy, even as hungry as he was. “No, thanks. I’ll stick with tea, but you might talk me into a piece of pie afterward.”
“Good. Chocolate crème is the one you want tonight.”
He grinned. “Yes, I think it is.”
Trish grabbed a glass, set it in front of him, and filled it with tea. “Lemon?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She dropped two slices into the tea, and then he took a sip.
Whoa. He’d forgotten that Trish’s tea was practically simple syrup with a slight tea flavor, just like his grandma used to make. It was intense, but it tasted like home, even if Ames Bridge had never really been home.
You know your grandmother’s house always felt more like a home than your own.
That’s why he was going to have a hard time selling it. But what was the alternative? Make a life for himself here? Not likely.
“So how—”
“I don’t know how long I’m staying, or what I’m going to do with Grandma’s land.”
Trish laughed. “I knew that already. Irene and Elsie stopped by as soon as they’d seen you.”
“And you probably also heard it from Lucy and Dale, or Cal, or Miss Mary Ellen and Miss Sara Belle. I saw them in the grocery store.”
“The first night you were here. I know.”
She was scary. “What don’t you know?”
Her smile had a touch of evil to it. “Very little.”
“Then why don’t I just sit here and let you tell me things.”
She slapped at his arm with the dish towel. “Listen to you. You’re still as much of a rascal as you were twenty years ago when you first started coming here.”
Not usually, but Trish made it easy to be whoever you wanted to be.
“How are you settling in?” she asked.
He raised a brow. “Don’t you know?”
“I want to hear your version.”
“I’ve unpacked most of what I brought, but I haven’t even started going through Grandma’s stuff. There’s so much of it, and it’s strange seeing it all there, just as it was. It makes me miss her more.”
Trish nodded. “I miss her too.”
She started to say more, but several new customers came in, and she had to go tend to them. Beck managed to eat his burger in relative peace. Trish bustled around him, but she left him alone, and while he heard his name mentioned in a few whispered conversations, no one approached him.
The dinner rush had slowed by the time Trish brought his chocolate pie.
“So I hear Cal’s already been to see you a few times.” At least she didn’t mention the incident with Jigsaw. He was hoping the town didn’t know about that.
“He has, and he said the craziest thing.”
Trish leaned on the counter, moving closer so they could speak in low voices. “What was that?”
“He thinks Grandma wouldn’t sell the land to him because he’s gay. But that’s ridiculous. She and I never talked outright about my sexuality, but she knew and she still loved me just the same.”
“Oh.” Trish frowned. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“So you agree? Grandma wouldn’t have turned Cal down just because of that.”
“No, Cal’s wrong. That’s not why your grandma disliked him. I’m guessing your grandma never told you about her and Martha.”
“Cal’s mama?”
Trish nodded.
“No, we always visited, and Grandma took flowers and honey and got jam and eggs in return. Then we just stopped going over there. I never asked why. I was getting older, and Cal didn’t like me.”
“I’m not sure Cal—” Trish tilted her head like she was considering what to say next. “Cal’s changed a lot in the last few years.”
He tensed when he remembered fighting to slow Jigsaw. “He’s still treating me just like he did.”
Trish smiled. “Well, you are a special case.”
What did that mean? “Because I was the nerdiest kid he ever met?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Well, what, then?”
She waved her hand as if brushing his question away. “Let’s stick to one thing at a time.”
Why was she being so mysterious?
“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but your grandma wouldn’t sell to Cal because she was angry at Martha.”
“Why? What happened?”
Trish glanced around. “Good, it doesn’t look like anyone’s listening. It’s one of the few scandals that never managed to get all the way around town.”
“Scandal?” Beck had a hard time imagining his grandma and Miss Martha involved in a scandal.
Trish nodded. “I’m sure you know your Grandpa Ralph was one of the men who formed the original committee to restore the bridge.”
Beck had heard all about that. His grandfather had died a few years before he was born, but his grandma loved to tell stories about him.
“He helped raise money from citizens, but more importantly, he wrote the grant proposal that won us the big dollars from the state.”
“Right. Grandma had a copy of the grant certificate in a frame on the wall.”
“She sure did.” Trish smiled. “So after that happened, people started saying Ralph ought to run for office—state house or even senate—and he was considering it. He had the backing of a lot of people both in town and all over the district. Then some people found out he had a still and sold moonshine, and well, you know how some people around here are about liquor.”
Did he ever. The town had been dry when he was a child, and it hadn’t been all that many years since that had changed. Trish had started selling beer and wine as soon as she could, and she’d lost some customers over it at first.
“Ralph didn’t just enjoy his shine himself. He sold it illegally, so even if folks had gotten over him indulging in alcohol, he risked his opponents pushing for charges against him. The fact that some of them were his customers didn’t seem to matter to anybody.”
“But that’s—”
“Just how things are.” Trish patted his shoulder.
Beck hated how things were, and that was just another example of why he couldn’t live here.
“But what’s that got to do with grandma and Miss Martha? That all happened before I was born.”
Trish nodded. “Right, but it wasn’t until you were in your teens that your grandma found out it was Martha’s daddy, Big Al, that ratted Ralph out.”
“What? I thought they were friends.”
“That’s right. Big Al was on the bridge committee with your grandfather, and he got jealous when he saw how much better your grandfather was at raising money.”
Beck frowned. “That wasn’t Martha’s fault.”
“When your grandma confronted her, she defended Big Al, and they probably both said things they shouldn’t.”
Beck could easily imagine that. His grandma did have a temper. “Why couldn’t Martha see how wrong it was of her dad to—”
“Do you really think she could admit he was wrong?” Trish raised her brows. “She was really close to her daddy, and after having lost him a few years before…”
“Yeah, she wasn’t going to back down, was she?”
“Nope. So your grandma stopped speaking to her.”
“And Cal doesn’t know?”
She shrugged. “I guess not. Martha must not have told him what happened. Maybe she was embarrassed about it.”
“Well, she should be. Her father should never’ve treated a friend like that.”
Trish sighed. “We’ll never know the whole story.”
Beck knew Trish was right, but after the way Cal had acted earlier, he wasn’t feeling very charitable.
After a few moments of silence, Trish said, “Cal’s got a school group coming tomorrow.”
“Does he? He told me he’d been doing tours.”
Trish scowled. “He’d do lots more if people here weren’t such damn fools. He’s a good man, and I don’t know why people get so hung up on him liking butt sex.”
Beck spewed his tea, and Trish chuckled. “Sorry, dear, but you know that’s what they’re all thinking about.”
Beck’s face was on fire. He was so not having this conversation.
“See? Even you can’t handle thinking about it.”
“That’s not because I don’t—” He swallowed hard, realizing what he’d been about to say. “I mean…”
Trish cracked up. “I know what you mean, honey, but I don’t care, and no one else should either.”
“I sure wish they didn’t.”
“Most people around here spend too much time blathering on about what the Bible says, when they need to be actually reading it instead of just letting some homophobic preacher tell them what to think.”
Beck nodded. “Most people just follow along with what they’re told instead of interpreting things for themselves or seeing the whole picture.”
“And bless his heart, Cal’s had a hard time dealing with the bigots in this town, especially now that it’s just him at the farm. You know his parents moved to Florida, right?”
“My mom mentioned that.” She’d also said some very unkind things about rednecks in Florida trailer parks, but he didn’t need to share that.
“Anyway, he’s got Central Methodist Preschool coming out tomorrow, but Susan—you remember her, she was a year older than Cal. Her dad’s a mechanic, and her mom runs Central Bakery.”
“Not really.” Why did everyone expect him to have a catalog of everyone in town in his head?
“Well, anyway, she helps Cal with tours, but her kids are sick, so he’s going to be shorthanded tomorrow unless he can find someone else to help.”
Beck saw exactly what she was trying to do, but he let her keep talking.
“I was thinking since you’ve been a teacher and all…”
“How old are these kids?”
She shrugged. “Three? Four?”
“I taught high school.”
Trish waved that comment off. “You can teach, and you’re not scary.”
“Ask Rev. Johns about that. I think he finds all us gays scary.”
Trish snorted. “He’s an idiot. You’re not going to scare these kids, and you’re willing to accept a challenge.”
That was true, but…
“I’d just hate for this tour to go badly. Cal’s trying so hard to build up business for the farm.”
The whole town was full of manipulators. How long would it take him to be nothing but a slave to Trish, Irene, and Elsie, not to mention the other family friends who’d line up to have him do their bidding?
“Fine. I’ll see if he’d like some help.” Though why he should after the shit Cal pulled with him today, he didn’t know.
You want to show people that a man’s sexuality has nothing to do with how well he runs a business.
Trish smiled. “Very neighborly of you.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“And one more thing. Promise to hear me out before you get mad.”
Aw, shit, what now? “Okay, I promise.”
“I get why your grandma was pissed off at Martha, but she had no right to take that out on Cal. Obviously, he never even knew what happened.”
“So you think I should sell the land to him?”
“I think you should consider it. You could rent to him for now until you decide what you’re going to do.”
Yeah, he’d been planning to, until Cal put him on that crazy horse.
“You truly think Cal is a good man?”
“One of the best.”
For Trish’s sake, he’d give him another chance. “I’ll think about it.”
She smiled. “Good enough.”