Rhys looked at the Christmas lights strung up in Moore Wood, his jaw dropping in awe. Not only were they wrapped around several trees, the white fairy lights were also hung between several branches, creating a web of shining light above the park. It was impressive, even in the early morning sun.

He was so transfixed by the lights he almost walked into a produce stall. He stopped himself just before he knocked over a bowl of apples, grimacing at the handsome blond man behind the stall. He merely chuckled as Rhys course corrected.

“They’re gorgeous, aren’t they?” the stall worked said, glancing up at the lights above.

“Yeah, amazing!” Rhys genuinely felt like he was walking in another world. He took a quick glance at the fruit and vegetable stand. He hadn’t had breakfast yet and knew he needed something healthy to balance the carbs from yesterday.

“I’ll just grab an apple, if that’s all right?”

Moments later, Rhys headed further into the farmer’s market, taking a bite from the crisp apple. It was fresher than any apple he’d had in Florida, shipped in days after being picked.

He paused as he came to a metalworking stand. The person behind the stand looked over their work. Rhys felt they presented as nonbinary, a person between man and woman. Either way they were rocking the leather kilt they were wearing. An Enby was progressive for a big city, like the few trips he’d down to Jacksonville, let alone a small Texan town. Once again, Hidden Creek had surprised him.

Rhys glanced over the artwork, noticing a small motorcycle made out of leftover engine gears. A car version would be good for Mason, but Rhys knew he needed to get him something bigger, with more meaning.

He was halfway through his apple as he came across a gardening stall. There were several flowers and dozens of bushes and beautiful plants. He instantly thought about his dream garden. Only three years until that dream could become a reality. Until then, looking at plants like these were only a painful reminder of what he couldn’t have yet.

As Rhys finished his apple to the core, he found himself at a wood sculpture station. Not only did they have stunning wooden wreaths, but they were also selling herb plants in custom wooden pots. The names of the herbs were expertly hand-carved into the bottom of each pot.

Rhys knew it would make the perfect gift for his sister Debbie. She had the cooking flair like he did, but with three children, she didn’t have time to rush around preparing lavish meals. With a couple of these, she could have fresh herbs for cooking all year round.

Rhys considered his options, eventually settling on a basil and an oregano plant. Adding those to even canned tomatoes would help bring out the flavor in any meal. Rhys threw his apple core into a nearby trash can as he inspected the various herb plants.

“Can I help you there?” someone asked.

Rhys looked up to find two men behind the stall. The smaller man’s whole face lit up when he smiled at Rhys. The bigger man was listening intently to the call on his phone. Even with a jacket on, Rhys could see he was covered in layers of muscles. Rhys wondered if he went to the same gym Mason frequented.

“Oh, yeah,” Rhys finally answered the man’s question. “These herb plants look amazing! And the custom pots. How long did these take to make?” Rhys picked one up, inhaling the smell of fresh basil. The freeze-dried herbs were great to keep in the cupboard, but nothing compared to the real stuff.

“I started preparing all these months ago, honestly lost track of time. Thankfully we’re making them as fast as we’re selling them.” The man winked at Rhys before pulling out a bag for him.

“I guess this one, since I’ve fondled it.” Rhys handed over the basil pot in his hands. “And an oregano as well. Are these plants locally grown? The heat must be great for photosynthesis, but the water’s gotta be a problem.” Rhys considered the challenges out loud. He’d read up on water-logging problems in Texas, during his horticultural Tallahassee classes. It could be devastating to the local produce farmers.

“I just make the pots. It’s Miele Farms that provides the plants,” the stall man explained as Rhys handed over his money. As Rhys slipped his coin change into the side of his wallet, the muscular man on the phone hung up, gently putting his hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“One of the treadmills broke while Channing was using it. Luckily no one was injured, but I gotta get down to Lift, give Rory a hand,” he explained. Rhys perked up. Lift was the gym Mason had mentioned last night.

“Oh, Mason goes there!” he chipped in. The two men looked at Rhys with wide eyes.

“Are you him?” the stall worker asked.

“The guy sleeping on Mason’s couch?” the gym owner clarified.

“Wow, word travels fast around here.” Rhys was stunned they’d heard so quickly. Also that they were talking to him for so long. Rhys presumed that was the difference between a bigger city like Tallahassee and a small town like Hidden Creek.

Usually Rhys would be too shy to carry on the conversation, but something about the farmer’s market put him at ease.

“Give me all the updates when I come back.” The gym owner, Matt, if Rhys’s memory served, gave the stall worker a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out, already making a call on his cell as he left.

Rhys looked at Matt in awe before he turned back to the stall worker. He then looked around at the other customers, making their way through the farmer’s market. He also checked on the other stall workers.

No one had batted an eyelid at the public display of affection between the two men.

“This town feels really tolerant, if you don’t mind me saying.” Rhys turned back to the stall worker. He was doing it, having a casual chat on purpose. “I’m Rhys, by the way.” He offered his hand to the other man.

“Cas.” His grip was firm, his hand slightly cold from the morning air. The Texan sun was just beginning to beat down on them, but the cold of the night air still lingered. “Yeah, we still get our fair share of assholes,” Cas explained. “But things are changing around here.”

“I heard an LGBT center recently opened its doors.” Rhys should probably visit that at some point during his stay.

“Yeah, that place has been great. Especially for the local teens in the area,” Cas replied.

Rhys double-checked his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t taking Cas’s time away from any paying or browsing customer. “I would bet. Surveys vary, but between ten and forty percent of America’s youth identify as LGBT.”

“Yeah.” Cas nodded. “Sometimes I see the youths being so queer and fearless. It’s like watching a different species from when I went to high school.”

Rhys wanted to counter, mention his bad college experiences. Times may be better some places, but the world had a long way to go. But he didn’t want to sour Cas’s mood.

“So, my crashing on Mason’s couch is big news around these parts?” Rhys was used to information spreading via group chats, retweets, shared Facebook posts. He hadn’t even been in Hidden Creek twenty-four hours and was apparently the source of gossip at the local gym.

“Most definitely,” Cas said. “Mason comes into Matt’s gym a lot. It’s probably the only thing he does for himself.” Rhys felt himself tense up, feeling oddly defensive about Mason. He hoped Cas would be nice about the man he was living with. “He works so hard, and we’re friendly enough at the gym. He’s just such a giving man, always spotting other people. Our gym is LGBT friendly, but we’ve had a couple problems with bigots trying to get in the door or even taking pictures of the gender-neutral locker rooms.”

“Wow, a gay center, a gay bar, and a gay gym?” Rhys didn’t even have access to that many LGBT-friendly resources even at Tallahassee University. “Wait, bigot problems?”

“Only a few times. First time, the local pastor actually stepped in. Other times, Mason was there to scare off the would-be offender. Just towered over them, then politely asked them to leave. We’re all happy to see him let someone else into his life. Even if it is just for a week.”

“Eleven days, actually.” Rhys felt the need to make clear he was going to be staying an extra four days.

“A lot can happen in eleven days.”

Rhys was about to ask what Cas meant by that, but was interrupted as a giddy toddler dragged his worn-out mother to the stall. He came to a stop, excitedly pointing at the plants on display.

“Green flowers, Mama!” The child eagerly explained, pointing at the sea of green herbs. “Green. Flowers.”

“Have a good day,” Rhys waved at Cas as he headed off further into the market.

“You too!” Cas called back as the toddler stood on his toes, trying to pick up one of the plants. The mother gently lifted the herb from his grasp before kneeling down to talk to him.

Now that Debbie’s gift was taken care of, Rhys could focus all of his attention on Mason.

Rhys passed some Christmas lights formed into the shapes of two different animals. One, a penguin, with the letters HCCC at the bottom. The other, a large bear, a plaque at the bottom reading Hidden Creek High — the letters HCH written in Christmas lights above the roaring bear. Rhys pondered what HCCC could stand for. Perhaps the local community college. Mason had mentioned taking business classes there.

As he thought it through, Rhys quickly found himself in the food truck area of the park, several different cuisines set up. The smell of raw onions overpowered him from Uncle Juan’s Burrito Bonanza, making him rush through the area. Cooked onions were a delight to Rhys — raw, not so much.

He broke through the food truck area, finding himself at the edge of Moore Wood. The sun bore down on him, the warmth soaking into his skin. Rhys looked up to the sky, double-checking for clouds that could block his heat source. There were none to be seen in the Texan sky.

Rhys sat down on a nearby bench, pulling out his receipt from Cas’s stall. He also grabbed a pen from his pocket. On the empty back of the receipt, he began to jot down everything he knew about Mason to see if he could get an idea for a present.

Former Marine

Mechanic

Loves Music (Queen/DM faves)

Cat owner

Gym goer

Small business owner

Rhys paused, looking over the last one. Cas at the stall had mentioned Mason spending a lot of time at work. Did that mean his business was struggling? It had recently opened, and Rhys knew any business needed time to grow, to establish a brand.

Maybe he could buy him something to help with the business? Like a new cash register. Rhys had a quick look on Amazon. It would arrive in time, and he could just about afford it. But it felt presumptuous to buy Mason equipment for his business.

Rhys wondered if he could buy him some kind of signature tool? A nice socket wrench, with maybe a pattern on the handle. But Rhys wouldn’t know which type would be the best and couldn’t ask Mason too many questions without giving the game away. He would also have to order it within the next couple days for it to arrive in time, even with his parents’ Amazon Prime delivery helping out.

What about the gym? Maybe he could buy Mason some weights so he wouldn’t have to take time out of his day to go there. The more Rhys thought it through, the worse of an idea it became. Cas had made it clear the gym was one of the few times in the week Mason left the pressures of his garage behind.

Rhys’s thoughts drifted back to the business. What a lot of owners forgot was that the customer’s journey began outside of the shop. You could have the best sales in the world happening inside, but if the outside looked dreary and uninviting, no customer would bother to set foot inside.

He looked up local hardware stores. Maybe a fresh coat of paint could help.

But paint would chip over time, and Rhys had always struggled to paint walls without producing obvious streak marks.

There had to be a way for Rhys to make the place look better. Maybe he could start by getting rid of the old tires out front?

Rhys’s eyes lit up. Maybe he could use them somehow?

He typed his keywords into Google, which flooded his screen with pictures for inspiration.

Yep. Rhys could make the customer’s journey start with a flourish.

He leapt up from the bench, snatching up his plants for Debbie before striding back through the food trucks, rushing by the glowing penguin and bear mascots, past the artisanal stands, nodding at Cas as he went and coming to a stop at the flower stand.

“Do you guys deliver?” Rhys looked over the spectacular variety of plants.

This time he wasn’t imagining plants for three years’ time. He was buying them for now.