South Main and Gentry

by A. D. Ellis

  “More? Don’t tell me you’ve been welching on taxes all these years. Fraud can get you fed prison time.”

  I looked at Barry. The shirt was faded, left over from the 90s, and the dark wrinkled skin under his eyes reminded me of Dan’s avocado skins. Still, he came at my call. Barry was a true friend.

  “No tax cheating, but South Main’s losing money. At least that’s what I get when I do the numbers.”

  I stood and shoved my chair under Barry’s ass. “Here, add these columns for me. Tell me what you get.”

  “Those numbers are too fucking tiny, Mitch. I left the reading specs at home.”

  Without words, I pointed at a pair of glasses resting on the corner of the desk. “We both need ‘em.”

  Barry punched in the numbers on the old-fashioned adding machine I’d protected from waves of auditors wanting to pitch it in the trash. His fingers moved with lightning speed.

  After I’d made a third circuit pacing around the dining room, Barry threw up his hands. “Same totals as you. I hope the larger one is the income.”

  “No. If it were the larger of the two, you’d still be snuggling up against Mr. Leslie in bed.”

  “How do you know about Mr. Leslie?” Barry’s chubby cheeks turned pink.

  “Remember when I spent two nights at your place when my water heater blew, and I wanted to take a hot shower before Hank, the plumber, could show up three days later? You introduced me to that oversized stuffed bear.”

  Barry grinned and reached up to try and flatten his tangle of hair against his scalp.

  “Ah, yep. We had fun. Golden Girls marathon. Remember?”

  At almost any other moment, with all indicators pointing in a positive direction, I’d have loved stopping in at all the houses on Memory Lane with Barry. Unfortunately, a midnight hour spent in terror of financial ruin wasn’t the right time.

  “Damn, Barry. I’m losing money. Big time. L-O-S-I-N-G. That’s not me. What the hell?” I ran a hand over my face.

  “So you had a down month. Happens with every business. Once in a while, in a slow month, even a doc wishes more people got sick.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Don’t you think it’s the truth?” Barry shrugged.

  I rubbed my chin and leaned forward to look at the numbers one more time. “Shit. You know who’s to blame for this?”

  Barry started to open his mouth but then pursed his lips tight without saying anything.

  I demanded, “What were you going to say?”

  “Nothing. I’m waiting for your words of wisdom. Who’s to blame for this? My favorite option for the cause of any local catastrophe is Jenny Jenkins, but I’m still trying to figure out a rationalization that implicates her in this.”

  I folded my arms across my chest and tried to focus solely on the diner. I didn’t want to think about the rest of my personal life when I said, “Tanner.”

  “Oh, come on, Mitch. He’s going to get you national attention with that film. He’s encouraged you to up your game with new menu items. I’m not even going to talk about—you know.”

  “That’s it. Tanner’s made me change the formula. I was doing well until he showed up in town. Now, I’m bleeding cash, and he’s always so smug about his coffee shop’s success.”

  Barry tilted his head to the right. It was a sign that he had questions about my reasoning.

  “Were you doing that well before he got here? I remember you telling me that you had some concerns. You were deferring maintenance on the HVAC system, and you told me the roof has more patches than it does original surfacing material.”

  I was exhausted, but I finally found myself on a path to an explanation, and I didn’t want Barry to knock me off the trail. If I could figure out why I was bleeding cash, I knew that I could finally go home and get some sleep.

  “Does that mean you’re going to take the avocados and zucchini off the menu? Dan told me the other day how excited he was that more updates might be coming soon. He wants to serve grouper on Fridays and add Brussels sprouts as a regular option among the sides.”

  I growled, “I know that I can’t throw Tanner out of town, but I need to minimize his impact. We need to roll everything back.”

  Barry reached out to grab my arm. An expression of disbelief filled his chubby face. “He’s your fucking boyfriend, Mitch! Pardon my language.”

  “This is business, Barry. It has to come first.” I jerked my arm away.

  The disbelief slowly shifted to anger. “You are a heartless old bastard, aren’t you? I guess the rumors are true.”

  Tanner was the last into the picture before the significant losses began. He had to be the first out. I wasn’t angry at first. I was scared, but Barry’s name-calling caused my blood to boil.

  “What fucking rumors? Are you spreading shit around town about me?” I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe I was wrong about the cause. Am I looking in the wrong place? Should I look a little closer to home?”

  “Me?” Barry tapped his chest. “You think I would tell stories on you? Why would you think that?”

  “Maybe you should remember the story you told about me and some news anchor in Chicago I’d never heard of. I had people asking me about that for a month.” I was working hard to maintain my frown, but it was starting to crack

  Barry and I never could stay mad at each other for long. He always brought up something from the past that would make us both laugh. He said, “That wasn’t awful. It was hilarious. You did talk to him. That part was true.”

  “Yeah, it was a man on the street piece. We were accidentally in the right place when a protest march went by.”

  Barry said, “And he did pick you out of the crowd. I don’t see where my story was entirely wrong. It even made you more of a celebrity in the Springs.”

  “He flirted with me, and we kissed. At least that was the story according to you––it never happened.”

  “Okay, yeah, sometimes I exaggerate,” agreed Barry. “This time—cross my heart—I’ve not said anything about you and Tanner. I’ve only watched what’s going on. You slept together–didn’t you?”

  I paced back and forth in the office while trying to sort out my thoughts. It all sounded easy a few minutes ago. Change the South Main menu back to the tried and true. Pay for an extra ad or two in the newspaper and on the radio—kick Tanner out of town.

  Barry reached out for my elbow to stop me from pacing. He said, “I’m dropping all of the ridiculous efforts at humor that I usually use. Now I’m speaking from my heart, Mitch. You’re one of my oldest friends. Shit—I didn’t mean it that way.”

  I groused, “Go on. Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  “Anyway, I haven’t seen you this excited about another man in—like ever.”

  “It’s only been a few dates, Barry. Yes, we slept together, but the diner. Tanner was fun. The diner is my life. It’s my fucking life!”

  Barry let go, and I started to pace again.

  “This is the first time you’ve been like this since—well, since Tim. Do you remember how you felt about him? I got phone calls every night. Yeah, it was so long ago that we used real telephones. You called me every night to tell me that Tim said you looked hot, or he kissed you, or he shared an ice cream cone with you. Honestly, when you fall for a guy, you’re like a junior high kid with a crush. Tanner’s about your heart, Mitch. Think about your heart.”

  I stopped pacing and stood in front of Barry, staring him down. “You had to bring that up.” I wiped at my nose with the sleeve of my flannel shirt. “That’s not playing fair. Bringing Tim up in the middle of this—after midnight—isn’t fair. I think my heart died with him. You know that.”

  If I’d had one great love in my life, it had to be Tim. I had a box full of photos of the two of us in the back corner of my closet. For nearly a year after he passed as a victim of the AIDS epidemic, I kept his photos up around the house. Then I tucked them all away, but I knew that I would never forget. It was a kind of pain that never g
oes away.

  Barry poked at my chest. “Your heart’s still in there, and it ticks faster every time Tanner comes around. He’s a good man, Mitch.”

  I stopped pacing. My walls were weakening and starting to crumble under Barry’s assault. I had to make a stand. “No. You brought up why I can’t do this with Tanner. Tim was the love of my life, and the diner has the other half of my heart. My grandfather’s spirit still lives here. I can’t let it go.”

  Shaking his head, Barry said, “You know that you’re my best friend. I’ll stand by you whatever you decide. I still think it’s the wrong decision. The diner does need to move into the 21st century. This is only a temporary downturn.”

  I gazed into Barry’s eyes and pleaded with him. “Then let’s freshen it up. We’ll get new menus printed and laminated, and I’ll fix the old blinds. It doesn’t need Tanner’s help. It only needs some surface work.”

  “And you?” asked Barry.

  “That’s me, too.” I glanced down at my belly. It was growing a little soft, but I knew that I could get myself in better shape without a massive amount of effort. “I’ll start taking more hikes out by the springs and drop by the gym at the high school in the evening. That’s when they let sports alums use the equipment.”

  Barry didn’t say anything. He merely sighed and looked down at the desk to check the numbers one more time.

  18

  Tanner

  “We need to talk.” Mitch stormed into my office while I was working on some morning paperwork.

  I stood and met him in the middle of my office. I used a cheerful smile to try to defuse the apparent tension. “Well, good morning to you, too.” I reached out for him to offer a hug in greeting.

  Mitch stopped dead in his tracks, frowned, took a step back, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Whoa, what’s wrong?” I wanted to touch him and let him hold me close, but Mitch was in a terrible mood. I quickly wracked my brain as to what could have him so upset. We’d left things on a very positive note the last time we were together. I chuckled softly as I remembered how sore my ass was for three days running.

  The frown never left Mitch’s face, and his eyes narrowed. Fortunately, I didn’t see any steam coming out of his ears.

  Mitch started, “There’s no easy way to say this.”

  A huge lump suddenly appeared in my throat. Mitch was ready to say something that wasn’t good. Raising an eyebrow, I was curious, but I also felt the need to protect myself and took a half-step back.

  Mitch took a deep breath and set his jaw. “There’s a lot in my past that I’ve never told you. That makes sense. We barely know each other.” He paced the small office.

  We barely know each other. Wow. I thought we knew each other pretty well when Mitch’s cock plunged deep into my ass. I clenched my teeth and waited to hear more.

  “Despite you knowing very little of my past, suffice it to say that South Main is my heart and my life. My grandfather’s spirit is alive and well in that diner. I can’t, no, I won’t give that place up—not for you—not for anyone.” Mitch continued to pace and ramble. It was clear that he didn’t rehearse what he had to say. The words and thoughts rolled out of his mouth in a jumble.

  I echoed Mitch’s movements by folding my arms across my chest in a defensive posture. “I never asked you to give up your diner.” I remembered how Shane told me that Mitch was a keeper. Unfortunately, it sounded like I was getting a break-up speech.

  “Maybe not directly, but I can’t deal with the distraction. What we’ve had has been fun, but—” Mitch paused.

  A distraction? I tilted my head to the right. I wasn’t going to let Mitch walk out of my life so easily. If he decided to tear down whatever we’d been building, so be it, but he was damn well going to have to say the words. My heart already ached. When had I become so attached that I would feel physical pain at the thought of losing him?

  Mitch’s eyes flashed. I couldn’t decide whether I saw annoyance, anger, or despair. Whatever it was, the effort to tell me what he had on his mind was causing discomfort. That’s good.

  “South Main is in the red—big time. It’s bleeding money like a stuck pig.” Mitch stopped pacing and placed his hands on his hips. For that moment, I believed that he was a bulldog—ready to fight anyone or anything that tried to get between him and his precious diner.

  I winced. “I’m sorry, Mitch. That sucks. Is there anything I can do to help?” I hated to think of any small business struggling, but now that we were so close, I especially hated to think of Mitch’s diner suffering. Still, I didn’t understand what his financial situation had to do with us.

  “Help?” Mitch scoffed. “No—I think you’ve done plenty already.”

  It took a moment for his words to sink in. Once I understood his implication, my eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

  “Listen, we should have stuck to our little heated competition in the beginning and not let feelings get involved. I lost my focus and let things between us get out of hand. I let you talk me into changing my formula. That was a mistake.”

  “Now, hold on just one damn minute.” I clenched my teeth and drew in a shaky breath. “I offered suggestions based on years of experience with successful business models. I didn’t force you to do a damn thing.” Was he serious? Was this the man I’d spent hours cuddling, kissing, and making small talk? Not to mention the sex we shared.

  Mitch threw his arms out to the right and left. “Get new menus! Update the decor! Change the food choices! You talked me into altering my successful formula, and everything’s gone to fucking hell in a handbasket.”

  I stared at Mitch in silence for the next several moments. Finally, I blinked myself back into the present moment. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

  Mitch’s silence was a challenge.

  “Holy shit, you are serious.” I whispered the next words mostly to myself. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but South Main wasn’t exactly going great guns when I came to town. Now, a slow month or two is my fault? Who’s to say that the new menus, decor, and food didn’t keep you from going deeper into the red?” I matched Mitch’s fierce expression and furrowed my brow. Two could play his blame game.

  “Willow Springs is a small, conventional town. The folks here like tradition. They like what they’ve always liked, and they don’t need new or different. They need good, old-fashioned comfort food. Stick to the staples and keep it simple, stupid. We don’t need your fancy, big-city business plan with the frou-frou drinks and food.” Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “Should have kept my roots in the forefront of my mind and never wavered from the tried-and-true path my grandfather laid out for me.” Mitch’s gaze traveled to his feet as if he were holding a reverent conversation with his ancestors. “God rest his soul—he’s probably rolling in his grave right now.”

  I decided to leave all of Mitch’s nonsense about his ancestors outside of my part of the discussion. “So, what are you saying?” I rested my hip against my desk.

  “I need to focus on the diner. South Main is my heart and my life. I can’t let it die.”

  “And you can’t do that and date me at the same time? Are you one of those guys who can’t walk and chew gum simultaneously, either?”

  Mitch’s nostrils flared, and he paused just long enough for me to see his hesitation. “I need to devote my time and energy to saving the diner. Maybe there is only room for one eatery in Willow Springs.”

  “Is that a challenge? You know I can’t ignore a challenge.” I was angry and hurt, two emotions that always brought out my inner competitive bitch.

  “If you want to take it as a challenge, fine. All I’m saying is that I have to get back to running my business the way I know how. It’s time to pull it out of the gutter.”

  While I tried to wrap my head around the overall conversation, I didn’t want to leave the personal matters unaddressed. “Mitch, we can be successful business owners, devote a majority of our time and effort to our respective re
staurants, and still be close—as a couple.”

  Mitch dropped the bomb. “I think this might be one of those times that business and pleasure don’t mix.” The anger in his expression remained, but I held on tight to the slight glimmer of sadness in Mitch’s eyes.

  “Well, I know this won’t come as a surprise to you, but I don’t think I’m likely to back down from this. It’s not in me. I’m not one to tuck my tail and run. Gentry’s Java won’t go anywhere.” I pushed off from the desk and took three steps forward to stand right in front of Mitch.

  “I want nothing more than for both of our businesses to thrive. I don’t have a single ill wish toward you or South Main. Having said that, I won’t give up my success to help you limp along. That’s not good business sense.” I took another step closer.

  With a bent finger, I tipped Mitch’s chin to force him to look at me. “And I’m also not giving up on you—on us. You can keep telling yourself that what we’ve done doesn’t mean anything—that it was all merely casual fun. It was most definitely fun, but you and I both know it was more than that. What flowed between us was more.” I caressed Mitch’s bottom lip with my thumb. “We heard the springs before we saw them—remember? That means magic is in the air. It means something miraculous is happening.” I repeated the old wives’ tale in a fierce whisper. “This isn’t over.”

  Mitch’s breath caught in his throat when I leaned forward to capture his mouth in a gentle kiss. He hesitated, gave in to the kiss for a brief second, and then tensed before pulling away. His mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something. No words came out. Instead, Mitch shook his head and walked out of the office.

  Mitch didn’t escape before the sunlight streaming through my office window reflected the unshed tears in his eyes.

  Mitch was a damn stubborn man, and his pride was on the line. What happened shocked me, but I wouldn’t have expected him to go down without a fight. He’d been passionate and ready to stand up for South Main from the moment I met him. Unfortunately, he was also willing to throw whatever we had under the bus to save his business. That stung. I couldn’t deny it.