“I took Ms. Miriam to the grocery store. She can’t drive no more. You know how she is, talk and talk and talk. Couldn’t get outta there until I finally cut her off and told her my Deacon is coming over, so I gotta go.”
He chuckled. Granny was eighty-three but still in good shape. She was a small woman, a little frail, but everyone knew not to fuck with her. She was tough as nails, and there was no one else Deacon would rather have by his side. “Glad you escaped. You can go change if you want, and I’ll get dinner started.” They always cooked together when Deacon came over.
“Oh, I can, huh? Thanks for the permission,” she said with a grin.
“You know what I meant,” he teased back.
While she changed, Deacon went into the kitchen and turned the oven on. They planned their meals in advance, and she already had the chicken seasoned in a pan in the fridge, so he took it out and put it in the oven. When she returned, they started peeling the potatoes.
“How you doin’?” she asked, without looking at him.
He couldn’t lie to her the way he could with others. She knew him too well. “I’m getting by like always. I miss her. Of course I do. I always will, but I’m fine.” He’d also spent the day before with Eugene and Frances, Patricia’s parents. He was close to them, always had been. They treated him like a son, but sometimes it was hard to be around them because they made him think of Patty.
“I think you’re real good at making yourself believe that. You love so damn hard, Deacon, and that’s not a bad thing. But sometimes having such a big heart makes it more tender. You’re always so worried about making everyone else happy… Don’t you think it’s time you do that for yourself too? And not just with that easy smile of yours, while shoving all the important stuff deep down.”
He loved his granny, but this was why it was sometimes hard to see her. She never let him pretend. “Don’t know that I know how. Not yet.” The truth was, even when Patricia was alive, he’d always gotten bouts of sadness. Not something he ever saw a doctor for. It had never gotten that bad, but he did have a habit of putting others first, of wearing a grin when he didn’t feel it. Patricia had always been good at pulling him out of it.
“I want you to be happy, Deke.”
“I am happy.” And he was…but he also wasn’t. It was confusing how he could be both things, but he didn’t know how else to explain it.
“You need friends.”
“I have friends,” he countered, picking up another potato.
“You need to spend time with them.”
She had him there.
“No comment?” She turned and cocked a brow.
“I’ll try.”
“Then I’ll leave it alone for today.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The two of them chuckled, finished cooking dinner, and he stayed until about eight, then drove home.
Candied pecan…that would make a good flavor of ice cream. Maybe he’d try it.
Chapter 3
Grady
It was only Grady’s third day working at Covington Supply Co, but he already liked it. He’d known he liked Monroe, and so far he liked the other employees too. He enjoyed the customers and the friendly small-town feel. It was plain as day that everyone in Harmony thought the sun rose and set with Monroe Covington, and Grady could see why. He was a good man, and his partner was too. Grady had only met Holden once, but they’d clicked instantly.
While he didn’t want to get his hopes up or get excited too quickly, something felt right about Briar County already, like if things continued this way, maybe he’d finally found a home.
Yeah, he was getting ahead of himself. He had a part-time job and two queer acquaintances. He was clearly needy for…fuck, he didn’t know, something in his life. Plus, he hadn’t even found the courage to talk to Deacon and Birdie yet. For all he knew, that could turn out to be a disaster.
His shifts at the store were the same as Roe’s, from eight to five. They were approaching the end of their day, he and Roe out back, Roe showing him a few things in the nursery, when they heard Holden’s voice, asking someone, “You gonna do some planting?”
As Holden and another man came around the corner into the aisle where Grady and Roe stood, Grady found himself face-to-face with none other than Deacon.
Deacon was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans. His black beard was trimmed close to his face like it had been every other time Grady had seen him. He kept his dark hair in a short fade, his chest was broad, his whiskey eyes sad and looking at Grady in a way he couldn’t make sense of.