could drive a pickup and drink cheap beer and watch NASCAR on TV. But I’d still be me.” He raised his eyebrows a little and then spread his arms wide. “Colby Thomas Anderson, JV’s resident queer. So I figured hey, I’m gonna be the most authentic fucking me I can be.”
Authentic. There was a word William would never use to describe himself. He wasn’t even sure who he really was, which made being himself impossible. Unlike Colby Thomas Anderson, William Benjamin Lyon was a constructed creature, an identity based largely on who William thought he should be, who he had been coerced to be. Lately, that construct had begun to crumble and he was afraid of what would result. He envied Colby.
William took another bite of his burger, chewed, and swallowed. Eyes cast down at his plate, he said, “I like Thai food too.”
Colby was silent for a moment, no doubt thrown by the non sequitur. But when William risked a glance, Colby’s grin stretched ear to ear. “I’m gonna tell Grandpa his customer base for pad thai just doubled.”
Five
T HEY split the lunch bill right down the middle. Colby tried to talk William into frozen yogurt afterward, but the burger and fries had been a lot of food, and William wanted to get his shopping over with.
So they went next door to Frank’s Grab’em, which proved to have an odd but surprisingly diverse selection. William started his cart with a set of sheets—dark gray, $59.95, and large enough to fit his new bed—and a basic coffeemaker. He picked up some toiletries, toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, a sponge, and one of those pot scrubby things. He found a pair of knee-length khaki shorts that would probably not look too ridiculous on him, but he flatly refused the bright-blue flip-flops Colby tried to toss into the cart for him. And then he bought groceries. Mostly things like pasta, ground beef, and spaghetti sauce, but also as many bags of frozen veggies as he thought his freezer would hold. He even managed a grin of his own when he found a couple boxes of green curry with jasmine rice and added them to his growing pile of purchases.
“You going to invite me over for dinner, maybe?” Colby asked.
William wasn’t sure whether Colby was teasing, so he didn’t answer. But he thought about the idea as he continued to push his way up and down the aisles and listened to Colby give his opinion on nearly everything they passed.
Despite his earlier claim that he needed to go shopping too, Colby didn’t choose much for himself. Just a birthday card for his Aunt Deedee, a box of granola, and the Game of Thrones season one DVD set.
The return drive seemed much shorter than the outbound trip, maybe because William no longer felt so uneasy in Colby’s company. He was getting a sense of who the other man was—outgoing, friendly, honest. And maybe a little lonely too. William wanted to ask him what he’d done for a sex life since he’d left San Francisco, but didn’t quite dare.
As they neared downtown JV, William slowed the car. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“Oh, the store’s fine. I’m gonna check in on Grandpa and see if we have any new books in the library.”
William pulled into the gravel lot and left the engine idling. For the first time in a couple of hours, he felt awkward. “Uh, thanks for playing tour guide.”
“And thanks for playing chauffeur. It was fun. I don’t…. Well, I had a good time. You’re totally not a jerk and I think you’re a teensy bit looser than you used to be.”
“Wow. My head’s going to swell from your compliments.”
Colby patted him on the shoulder. “See? Now you’re even attempting to make a joke. We’ve definitely pulled that stick out at least three or four inches.”
He was still standing in the parking lot, shopping bag in hand, waving and laughing as William pulled away.
H E WORKED well into the evening, tapping rapidly at his keyboard until his stomach’s complaints became
Authentic. There was a word William would never use to describe himself. He wasn’t even sure who he really was, which made being himself impossible. Unlike Colby Thomas Anderson, William Benjamin Lyon was a constructed creature, an identity based largely on who William thought he should be, who he had been coerced to be. Lately, that construct had begun to crumble and he was afraid of what would result. He envied Colby.
William took another bite of his burger, chewed, and swallowed. Eyes cast down at his plate, he said, “I like Thai food too.”
Colby was silent for a moment, no doubt thrown by the non sequitur. But when William risked a glance, Colby’s grin stretched ear to ear. “I’m gonna tell Grandpa his customer base for pad thai just doubled.”
Five
T HEY split the lunch bill right down the middle. Colby tried to talk William into frozen yogurt afterward, but the burger and fries had been a lot of food, and William wanted to get his shopping over with.
So they went next door to Frank’s Grab’em, which proved to have an odd but surprisingly diverse selection. William started his cart with a set of sheets—dark gray, $59.95, and large enough to fit his new bed—and a basic coffeemaker. He picked up some toiletries, toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, a sponge, and one of those pot scrubby things. He found a pair of knee-length khaki shorts that would probably not look too ridiculous on him, but he flatly refused the bright-blue flip-flops Colby tried to toss into the cart for him. And then he bought groceries. Mostly things like pasta, ground beef, and spaghetti sauce, but also as many bags of frozen veggies as he thought his freezer would hold. He even managed a grin of his own when he found a couple boxes of green curry with jasmine rice and added them to his growing pile of purchases.
“You going to invite me over for dinner, maybe?” Colby asked.
William wasn’t sure whether Colby was teasing, so he didn’t answer. But he thought about the idea as he continued to push his way up and down the aisles and listened to Colby give his opinion on nearly everything they passed.
Despite his earlier claim that he needed to go shopping too, Colby didn’t choose much for himself. Just a birthday card for his Aunt Deedee, a box of granola, and the Game of Thrones season one DVD set.
The return drive seemed much shorter than the outbound trip, maybe because William no longer felt so uneasy in Colby’s company. He was getting a sense of who the other man was—outgoing, friendly, honest. And maybe a little lonely too. William wanted to ask him what he’d done for a sex life since he’d left San Francisco, but didn’t quite dare.
As they neared downtown JV, William slowed the car. “Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“Oh, the store’s fine. I’m gonna check in on Grandpa and see if we have any new books in the library.”
William pulled into the gravel lot and left the engine idling. For the first time in a couple of hours, he felt awkward. “Uh, thanks for playing tour guide.”
“And thanks for playing chauffeur. It was fun. I don’t…. Well, I had a good time. You’re totally not a jerk and I think you’re a teensy bit looser than you used to be.”
“Wow. My head’s going to swell from your compliments.”
Colby patted him on the shoulder. “See? Now you’re even attempting to make a joke. We’ve definitely pulled that stick out at least three or four inches.”
He was still standing in the parking lot, shopping bag in hand, waving and laughing as William pulled away.
H E WORKED well into the evening, tapping rapidly at his keyboard until his stomach’s complaints became
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