My Hometown

by SJD Peterson

  So much for having a good time. Oliver had put him in a foul mood and now talking about him with Charlotte was doing nothing but taking the foul mood straight to a really shitty one.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “He’s not a fucking accessory,” Jimmy grumbled. Funny how that statement from Charlotte pissed him off, yet he’d thought the very same thing once or twice.

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you further,” Charlotte consoled. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Charlotte wasn’t a big talker, usually too distracted by whatever book she had her nose stuck in to be worried about what was going on with the world around her. Just Jimmy’s luck that when she finally did strike up a conversation, it was one that poked at a wound that had been festering since he’d stepped foot back into Hale.

  “Really, I’m sorry,” she repeated and laid her hand on Jimmy’s biceps. “There’s a reason I live in my books. My social skills aren’t the best.”

  “It’s fine. You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m not in the best of moods today. In fact, maybe it’s me who needs to be hiding in a book. Got any suggestions for one where a lowly resident rides away into the sun towards his happily ever after?”

  “I can give you a list that meets your requirements.” Her pale freckled cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and she added in a lower tone, “I know the perfect male-male romance for you.”

  Jimmy arched a brow and pursed his lips. “Why, Charlotte Burker, have you been reading smutty gay romance novels?”

  “They’re not smut, they’re erotic,” she clarified, her face getting redder by the second, the blush spreading out to her ears.

  Jimmy scanned the area and leaned in. In a conspiratorial whisper, he said, “I want a list of those too.”

  Charlotte nodded without making eye contact and headed out of the door at the end of the rows of animals. “I’m going to go see the birds and bunnies. If you don’t have anywhere to be or anyone you need to go meet, you’re welcome to come with me.”

  Jimmy hooked his arm in hers. “I’d love to.”

  He and Charlotte strolled through each 4-H building, checking out the livestock as well as the building displaying agriculture and art. There was no more talk about touchy or embarrassing subjects; they simply enjoyed each other’s company. He was dying to know why a self-proclaimed hermit like Charlotte was at the fair alone. She’d never been one to care about crowds or one to chase the guys. She dated Roger Howard, a major computer geek, while in high school, but the relationship had ended when he moved abroad to further his studies in geekdom. After that, Jimmy had no idea. He hadn’t kept up with her—something he hadn’t done with a lot of his old friends—but surely she had friends or a boyfriend other than the ones in her precious books. He started to ask but couldn’t figure out a way to phrase the question without coming off as nosy or offending her.

  He spotted a lemonade stand and pointed to it. “I’m going to get me a cup. Would you like one?”

  “Sure, that’d be great.” She pulled some bills from her pocket, but he waved it off.

  “My treat. Grab us a table, I’ll be right back.” He headed to the decorative stand advertising freshly squeezed lemonade and elephant ears. He grabbed two drinks and one of the powdery fried treats and brought them to the table Charlotte had chosen.

  “Your drink and sweets, my lady,” he announced grandly as he slid into the bench of the picnic table and set the dessert in the center.

  “Thanks, my good man.”

  Jimmy took a sip from the ridiculous cup that was in the shape of a giant lemon and shook his head as the syrupy sour lemon flavor caused him to pucker his lips. “Don’t thank me yet. Holy hell, is that sour.”

  “Why are you hanging out with me?”

  Well, that was out of left field, and here he had been worried about probing or saying something wrong. He should have known better. “I was about to ask you the same thing. Let me guess, you felt sorry for me?”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” she huffed. “I mean it is a chore to be seen around here with a guy as good-looking as yourself. I did have to lower my standards.”

  “Is that so?”

  “No. It was called sarcasm.”

  Jimmy broke off a piece of the elephant ear and popped it into his mouth. The sweet deep-fried pastry was way better than the sour drink. “Well, I think we both scored. Rather than having to walk around looking like a complete loser, I have a beautiful companion on my arm.”

  “More sarcasm?” Charlotte asked with a tilt of her head.

  “I’m serious.”

  “You don’t count, you’re gay.”

  Jimmy choked on his pastry, and he grabbed his lemonade as Charlotte’s eyes went wide in apparent horror.

  “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you don’t matter because you’re gay. I only meant that you don’t like girls so what would you know? Oh God,” Charlotte blustered and hung her head in her hands. “That sounded even worse. You wouldn’t happen to have a really big book I can hide behind, do you?”

  Jimmy tried not to laugh at her discomfort, but a snort of amusement escaped him. He laid his hand on her forearm. “You are too damn cute. I knew what you meant.”

  “You understand babbling idiot?” she asked, her voice muffled by her hands.

  “Not only do I understand it, but I speak it fluently, I assure you.”

  Charlotte finally lifted her face, but she kept it propped up on one of her hands and sipped her lemonade.

  “So we agree we’re both socially awkward and babble like idiots. I’m here alone because I got dumped for a cold drink and people watching. What about you?”

  “My boyfriend is part of the rodeo.”

  “Your boyfriend? Do tell,” Jimmy said and waggled his brows. “Is he from Hale? Do I know him?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “He’s from Cheyenne.”

  “Cheyenne? As in Wyoming?”

  “Yes.”

  Jimmy waited for her to elaborate, but when the clock ticked by and she remained silent, he hedged, “How’d you meet him?”

  “Well, we haven’t actually met. You know, like in the flesh.”

  “Wait. But I thought you just said he was your boyfriend,” Jimmy asked in confusion.

  “I did.”

  Again, Charlotte let the silence stretch out, but this time the color in her cheeks rivaled the red produced by her admission to reading gay erotica, and he had to know. “You’re killing me here. You’ve got to share.”

  “We met in a Lover of Literature chat room.”

  Jimmy stared at her in disbelief, mouth gaping open. “You found a rodeo cowboy in a Lover of Literature chat room? He must be sexy and smart. Jesus, I’ve been going about this dating thing all wrong.”

  “You have a boyfriend.”

  “Umm, yeah, so about this smart cowboy,” Jimmy deflected.

  “You don’t have a boyfriend?”

  Jimmy rolled his neck, the tension instantly showing itself in the form of tightening muscles. “Yeah, I do.” He glanced down at his watch. “What time are you meeting him? The rodeo will be starting soon.”

  “Nice deflection.”

  “Another thing we have in common.”

  Charlotte pulled out her cell phone and studied the screen. “Eleven minutes.” She held up her phone to show the counter clicking the seconds down.

  Jimmy gathered up the half-eaten elephant ear and the nasty drink and dumped them in the garbage can. “C’mon, I’ll walk with you. I’m meeting Oliver there as well.”

  At the entrance to the rodeo arena, Jimmy asked, “You want me to wait with you?”

  “Nah, go on. I’m going to go freshen up.” She wrapped her arms around Jimmy’s neck and gave him a slight squeeze. “Thank you.”

  Before Jimmy could ask what for, she rushed off in the opposite direction. He shrugged, pulled his ticket from his back pocket, and handed it to the attendant. Women, he’d never understand them, then again, he d
idn’t understand a lot of men, so….

  He wandered around the arena, keeping an eye out for both Charlotte and Oliver. He was curious as to how the meeting had gone and even more curious as to what the guy looked like. He’d texted Oliver numerous times, but he hadn’t responded. Jimmy pulled his cell out again and dialed his number; it went directly to voice mail. Jimmy ended the call and frowned at the screen. It didn’t make sense. He knew Oliver had his phone so he’d either turned it off or his battery had died. Jimmy was more inclined to believe the former since Oliver’s phone was like an extension of himself, always in his hand or close by. Also, being the social media butterfly he was, he would never leave home without a fully charged battery and a backup.

  The barrel racing was well underway when he finally gave up on both Oliver and Charlotte and he headed for the stands, which were already bursting at the seams. He scanned them, looking for a place to sit, but quickly gave up. Rather than try and fight through the crowds for a sliver of bench space, he opted to stand near the fence.

  Through the barrel racing, calf roping, and steer wrestling, his phone stayed silent, as it did through the bronc riding. When there was a break in the action before the bull riding, Jimmy left his spot and stood in an insanely long line for a beer. He was tired, sweaty, but determined. It took nearly the entire intermission to obtain one and there was no way in hell he was going to stand in another line just to use a Porta-Potty. He spotted the horse trailers and trucks not too far away, and with them positioned near some trees and the sun down, he wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency.

  Singing along in his head with the country song blasting from speakers, he tromped over to the trailers and found one at the end of a row near a large tree that would shield him from the crowds as well as anyone who might come by. He set his beer on the bumper of the trailer and stepped behind the tree. He unzipped and was doing his business when he heard it. At first he thought the sound might be coming from someone tapping on a trailer to the rhythm of the music. However, the groaning that soon followed, growing in intensity, left no doubt as to the source of the sound. They were dancing all right, Jimmy thought with a sly grin but not to any twangy banjo. He tucked himself back into his jeans. At least somebody was having a good time. He quietly walked back over to the trailer to retrieve his beer, letting whoever it was have their privacy. The instant his fingers wrapped around the cup, he froze when he heard “Yes, yes, yes.”

  He knew that voice, had heard it often enough over the past two years, had been the one who had produced that scream. Beer in hand, he made his way in the direction of the sound. Two trailers down, he walked around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. At the end, hidden partially in shadows, Jimmy could just barely make out the two forms. But he easily saw the white paper number on the back of the cowboy’s shirt and his white ass shining above the Wranglers that were shoved down to his thighs. Jimmy couldn’t see the face of the man who the cowboy was plowing into, but he didn’t need to. He knew it was Oliver.

  Standing there watching his boyfriend being slammed into over and over by a stranger, Jimmy expected to be filled with the same rage he’d felt six months prior to moving back home when he’d walked in on Oliver being fucked by a neighbor. But strangely it was absent. For the second time, he’d come face to face with Oliver’s ultimate betrayal, but this time he had no desire to scream and grab the cowboy and stake his claim as he had done to the neighbor. His hands didn’t even curl into fists, no threat of punching anyone. It wasn’t the cowboy’s fault. He owed Jimmy nothing, had made no commitment to him. Oliver on the other hand, had. He’d promised Jimmy it would never happen again. Through his tears he’d convinced Jimmy of his remorse. What a fucking fool Jimmy had been. Lied to, betrayed, he should feel something, but he didn’t. He couldn’t even say it was numbness from shock. He simply neither felt nor gave a single fuck.

  Without waiting for the show to end and without a word, Jimmy spun on his heel and casually made his way back to the arena. He stopped long enough to down his beer and grab another one before heading to his spot near the fence. He made it just as the first bull rider came out of the chute.

  FOR A few years while growing up, Eric had thought he wanted to be a bronc rider. The first time he’d been bucked from a horse and broken his wrist when he was ten hadn’t deterred him. The second time he broke his tailbone, which had cured him of intentionally setting himself up for the possibility of being thrown ever again. Still, he enjoyed watching those braver and crazier than he, trying to hang on to those wild stallions. Only tonight it wasn’t the action in the ring that held his attention, but Jimmy.

  Ignoring Jimmy was turning out to be a lot harder than Eric had thought it would be. Not to mention, childish. But for fuck’s sake, what the hell choice did he have?

  Letting his anger go was even harder.

  Had the source of it only been that Jimmy had ignored him due to his studies, it would have still been painful but understandable. But knowing that Jimmy had had time in his life to start and maintain a relationship with Oliver just rubbed him the wrong way. It was ridiculous; he did understand and Jimmy should enjoy his limited free time with someone. The bottom line was, Eric felt slighted and he fucking hated Oliver. Hated even more that the squirrelly little fucker had been more important to Jimmy than he’d been.

  However, seeing Jimmy watching the rodeo alone tugged at Eric’s conscience. Maybe he should invite the guy to join him, Rodney, and Kirk. No one should have to be alone at a fair.

  The last bronc rider limped from the arena and a static voice announced there would be a short intermission before the main event. Eric tipped up his bottle and downed its contents.

  “I’m going to grab another beer,” he announced going to his feet. “Y’all need another one?”

  “I’ll go brave the crowds,” Rodney offered. “I think it’s my turn anyway.”

  “No, I got this.” Eric looked toward the fence and was disappointed when he realized Jimmy was gone.

  “Seriously, I gotta piss anyway.”

  Eric plopped back down on the bench. “Fine, you go. Grab me two, will ya?” he asked as he continued to scan the crowd.

  “You don’t pay me enough to buy you two at these prices,” Rodney griped.

  “No, but I sign your fucking paycheck.”

  “Your daddy does, but lucky for you, I like you,” Rodney said and slapped Eric’s back as he passed. “I’ll add it to my expense sheet.”

  “Cheap fucker!”

  “Can he do that?” Kirk asked.

  While Rodney had been working on the ranch with him for four years, Kirk was new, having only started at the beginning of the summer. Nice guy, hard worker, but he took everything literally.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Eric warned him and snatched Kirk’s beer out of his hands. “You try it and you’ll be back unloading stock at Pete’s feed store.”

  Kirk being the smart man he was didn’t say another word, nor did he try to retrieve his stolen beer.

  “Some days it’s good to be the boss,” Eric teased and tipped the beer up, taking a long pull. Kirk grumbled something incoherent. “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Didn’t think so,” Eric laughed and handed him back his beer.

  Eric propped his boots on the bench in front of him, taking the opportunity to stretch his long legs before the crowds returned. He might have appeared relaxed, but he was far from it. He never stopped searching for Jimmy. It wasn’t until Rodney returned, having somehow procured a six-pack of Budweiser Platinums, before Eric found what he sought. Jimmy had returned to his spot at the fence but something about him seemed off. He was simply standing there, sipping on a draft beer, yet…. Eric scratched his head. He couldn’t explain it any other way than to say something wasn’t right.

  Setting aside his anger, Eric grabbed two beers and excused himself.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Rodney scoffed. “The good stuff just started.”<
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  “Save my seat, I’ll be right back,” Eric told him without taking his eyes from Jimmy.

  He made his way down the stairs and strolled over, stopping next to Jimmy, who was looking out at the ring, unblinking.

  Eric bumped Jimmy’s shoulder and held out the beer. “Buy you a drink, cowboy?”

  Jimmy looked at him, seeming startled for a few heartbeats, and then downed the beer in his hand and accepted the one from Eric. “You have no idea how bad I need this.” He popped the top and drank a good measure.

  “Rough night?”

  “Let’s say more enlightening than rough.”

  “You need to talk about it?” Eric offered.

  “I’d rather you be my wingman,” Jimmy said, sounding timid as he picked at the label on his beer without meeting Eric’s gaze.

  Fuck! Eric hated seeing Jimmy so unsure of himself. It wasn’t something he was used to seeing in the confident man and what petty anger he was still feeling was washed away by the detached look in Jimmy’s eyes.

  “Whatever you need. Who do I have to lay a beatdown on?”

  “Nothing like that. But I could use a little help packing.”

  Eric’s heart stopped. “You’re moving?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then what the hell are you talking about, help packing?”

  Jimmy brought the beer to his lips. “You set on watching this?” He nodded toward the arena before taking another big drink.

  Eric’s curiosity was piqued and whatever was going on with Jimmy was suddenly way more interesting than the bull riders. “Not really, why?”

  Jimmy finished his beer. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

  Eric followed without hesitation. He had no idea what the hell Jimmy was talking about, but he hoped the packing meant Oliver’s shit would be on the lawn by the end of the night.

  Chapter Eleven

  “HEY, DAD. Good show?” Jimmy asked as he stepped into the living room.

  Dad jerked his head up, the glasses that were perched on his nose falling into his lap. “Yeah, it’s….” He squinted at the TV in an obvious attempt to see what the hell he’d been watching through closed lids. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d gone to the rodeo.”