Alan placed a box of breakfast cereal into his grocery cart. He started to wheel the cart further down the aisle and then stopped. He rolled it backward and picked up another box of the cereal.

He knew that he should do more cooking, but he rarely had the energy to do it more than once, maybe twice a week in the evening after he arrived home from work. He had to walk Boomer. By the time that was finished, he was too tired to cook. Breakfast cereal was a convenient meal that stopped Alan from spending more money at local restaurants and fast food establishments.

As he looked up to exit the cereal aisle before deciding to purchase a third box, Alan saw a familiar face coming his way. He knew that he recognized the round, black-framed glasses, but he couldn’t immediately place the name. The man had a glass bottle of milk cradled under one arm and held a bunch of bananas in the opposite hand.

A smile that was at least half sneer greeted Alan. “It’s Aaron, right? Am I placing the right name with the face.”

“Alan.” The memory came back. It was Lewis, Dax’s ex, and Lewis made the same mistake with the name when they first met downtown at Elderberry Rose.

Lewis snickered at his mistake and asked, “How is the stranger in town coping? Is Coldbrook Bend the small-town paradise that you hoped it would be?”

Alan tried to push the growl down deep in his throat as he said, “I’m not looking for paradise. I’m looking to settle down. Yes, I’m enjoying it so far. The river is beautiful, and I love walking my dog along the bluff.”

Lewis dismissively shook his head. “That’s what you say, but I know better. All of you outsiders are looking for this small-town fantasy. It’s the little hamlet on the river with sweet Aunt Emma and her niece Dorothy next door. Across the street are Betty and Brad, the two perfect kids, and a sheepdog named Shep.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m just here to buy groceries. If you want to have a conversation, then we can do that. If you want to pick a fight, you’ll have to do that alone. I’m not here to listen to you rattle on about your fantasy of me.”

Lewis smirked and stepped closer to Alan’s cart blocking his immediate path. “I’m fantasizing about you? I thought it was you starting to undress me with your eyes. You’re very handsome in your own way.” Lewis grabbed the lid of the milk bottle and then adjusted the bottle’s position beneath his arm.

As the word “undress” rolled out of Lewis’ mouth, a middle-aged woman walked past. She turned her head to give Alan a disapproving glance. He squirmed and felt the sweat break out on the palms of his hands as they gripped the handle of his cart.

He turned his attention back to Lewis and rolled his eyes. “That’s a masterpiece of wishful thinking.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”

His next movement shocked Alan. He stepped forward and set the milk in Alan’s cart. Then he waved a hand and said, “Oh, of course it is! I almost forgot. You have eyes for another…”

Alan growled under his breath, “What the fuck?” He started to push the cart forward, and he didn’t care if he carried Lewis’ milk all the way to the checkout. He could deal with it then and drop it off in the restocking basket.

Lewis stopped his progress. He gripped the front of the basket and placed the sole of one of his shoes on the left front wheel to act as a stop. Leaning forward, he whispered, “What, you don’t want to stay and talk about your Mexican lover?”

Alan blinked. He raced through his recent memory and attempted to figure out some way that Lewis could connect him with Diego. Maybe Lewis was confused. Maybe he’d seen some other man in town with a boyfriend. He rejected that idea. Coldbrook Bend didn’t have enough out gay men to have it be a case of mistaken identity.

Alan tried to keep his voice firm despite the fact that he was feeling shaky inside. He said, “I don’t have a lover. You must be mistaken.”

“I think his name is Diego. I’ve seen him before.”

A younger man walked by dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt. He spoke briefly, “Good to see you, Lewis,” and refused to acknowledge Alan’s existence.

“You know, I’m sorry that you’re jealous. I’m sorry that you’re jealous enough that you’ve decided to make up shit.”

Lewis raised an eyebrow and gripped the cart tighter. “You’ve never kissed him? You’ve never pressed your sweet lips to his and moaned about how you love that brown skin.”

Alan pushed his weight against the cart and nearly knocked Lewis off balance. He grunted, “Get the fuck out of the way, you asshole. You don’t know what the fuck you are talking about.”

Alan bit his lip. He couldn’t remember when he’d used that kind of foul language in public. It was standard among friends, but he was raised with military decorum and taught to remain polite in public no matter how ridiculous the adversary.

Lewis regained his balance and leaned forward over the cart. He smirked and whispered, “I bet he has a long dick, too. I bet you get on your hands and knees like a dog for that dick.”

Alan swallowed hard. He learned another approach from his father to harassing situations, and he decided to change his tactics. He leaned forward until his face was barely more than six inches away from Lewis. “What if he does? Are you jealous, Lewis? Do you wish that you could get on your knees and suck it? Think about it…going down your throat. You start choking and gagging. Your eyes start watering as your expression begs for more.”

Lewis pulled back. He grabbed the milk out of Alan’s cart and growled, “Prick.” He stuffed the bottle under his arm and without any other words, he turned and walked away in the direction from which he came.

Alan stood still and stared down at his cart. He barely noticed three more people walking past with disapproving glances. He felt filthy after the encounter like he needed to immediately take a shower. Alan cut short his shopping expedition and quickly purchased the items he already had in his cart.

As the automatic doors of the grocery store slid open for him to exit, Alan felt his stomach clench. He was worried that Lewis could have done damage to his car to seek revenge. He sighed with relief when he approached the car, and all appeared to be normal. Alan let the cart rest against the side of the vehicle while he walked clear around checking tires and the finish. The only damage was the single long scratch on the passenger’s side where he’d encountered a low hanging branch while visiting a cousin’s home in the woods two years earlier.

Alan drove home pounding his hands on the steering wheel. He was angry about the words Lewis said in the store, but he wondered how much worse it was for Diego when he was in public shopping or otherwise carrying out the fundamental activities of life.