My Hometown

by SJD Peterson

  TWO HOURS later, Mom found him. “Do you mind going to the post office for me?”

  Jimmy closed his planner and smiled up at her. “I don’t mind at all. Inputting my schedule was making my eyes cross.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, but I knew that. I’ve just been trying not to think about it. Procrastination can be a beautiful thing.”

  “And a dangerous one. Post office closes in thirty minutes and if I don’t get these bills sent out, my procrastination is going to have me paying late fees up the wazoo.”

  “Mom, I set you up to pay your bills online. All you have to do is point and click. Why are you still mailing them?”

  “I don’t like that computer stuff. Here,” she said and shoved the envelopes into his hand.

  Mom had a major dislike of the Internet, computers, or anything else she didn’t completely understand. She was also as stubborn as an old mule and he knew not to argue his point once again. It wouldn’t do a bit of good.

  “What are you going to do in Florida?”

  “Oh my God, you’re right!” She laid her hands on her cheeks in a very impressive impersonation of the Home Alone kid. “What if they don’t have post offices in Clearwater?”

  Jimmy gave her an exasperated look. “I know sarcasm when I hear it. No more trying to bring you into this century.”

  “Smart man. Take my car if you want. I gotta go finish dinner. Thanks,” she tossed over her shoulder.

  He grabbed his keys off the hook as he headed out the back door with mail in hand. Mom drove a 1999 Olds Delta 88, another thing she refused to update to the current century. He got behind the wheel of his own modern Impala.

  He probably should think about trading it in for a Silverado. Dad’s old truck was worse than Mom’s outdated car. Both his parents were what Jimmy would deem tightwads—although Mom insisted they were frugal. They had plenty of money, could afford to splurge once in a while, but refused. Jimmy understood saving for a rainy day, but damn it was nice to play in the rain instead of only saving for it. Life was too short not to.

  The post office wasn’t busy, a single truck in the parking lot. He pulled up alongside of it, cut the engine, and then had to do a double take to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. But nope and fuck because it was Oliver sitting behind the wheel. Jimmy glanced at the clock. He only had twenty minutes before they closed. He briefly considered pulling right back out and paying any late fees his mom would accrue, but tossed the idea just as quickly. This was his hometown, and he’d be damned if he was going to let the likes of Oliver run him off.

  He pulled his ball cap down low over his eyes—like that would actually help disguise him—and stepped out of the car. Keeping his face averted, he rushed into the post office.

  “Hi, Jimmy, long time no see,” the postmaster, Wanda Orson, said in greeting.

  “Afternoon, ma’am.” He slid the envelopes across the counter. “Just need some stamps on these, please.”

  “How’s your folks? They’ll be leaving for Florida soon, huh?”

  “They leave tomorrow,” he explained as he tapped his finger nervously on the counter, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure Oliver wasn’t sneaking in behind him.

  “Gonna miss them, especially your mom. Things just won’t be the same around here without her. That’ll be a dollar eighty.”

  Jimmy fished out the exact change from his pocket and handed it to her. “Thanks, you have a good day, ma’am.”

  “Tell your folks I inquired about them, will you?”

  “Sure,” he said distractedly. He pulled open the door and peeked around it. Oliver’s truck was still in the lot.

  Goddammit. Couldn’t he go anywhere in the town without running into that ass? Instead of turning left to his car, he headed in the opposite direction. Now was as good a time as any to pick up some vitamins or something from the pharmacy. Hopefully, Oliver would be gone by then and he could avoid what he knew would be a confrontation.

  He spent a good amount of time wandering around killing time until Old Man Macomb started giving him funny looks. He’d been down every aisle twice and read vitamin bottles, a magazine, and compared ingredients in cold medicines, surely Oliver had to be gone by then.

  “I guess this is it,” he announced and set the vitamins on the counter.

  Mr. Macomb picked them up and read them. “Vitamin B six and twelve, huh? Are you having an issue with energy?”

  “No, sir, but I’m sure I will.”

  Mr. Macomb’s face lit up. “Oh right, you’ll be starting your residency soon.”

  “Yes, sir. Next week.”

  He rang up Jimmy’s purchases and dropped them in a bag with a flyer of some sort. “You need any help with dosages, you give me a call.”

  “Yes, sir. Have a good day,” he agreed even though he had no plans to call the aging pharmacist. He had his PDR app already downloaded on his phone. Unlike Mom, he loved technology. What he didn’t love was the fact that Oliver was still in the parking lot of the post office when Jimmy returned. But instead of sitting behind the wheel of his truck, he was now sitting on the hood of Jimmy’s car.

  “Hi, Jimmy.”

  “Oliver,” he said curtly and hit the key fob.

  Oliver jumped up when Jimmy opened his door. “Wait, please. I just want a minute of your time.”

  “I’ve given you enough of my time. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Dammit, stop being so difficult.” He grabbed Jimmy’s arm, stopping him from getting in the car. “I want to apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.” He pulled away from Oliver’s grasp and slid into his car.

  Oliver wasn’t deterred. He grabbed the top of the door, preventing Jimmy from closing it. “I want another chance. How can I prove to you how sorry I am and that I’ll never do it again?”

  “You can’t.”

  Tears streamed down Oliver’s face. “I won’t give up on us.”

  Jimmy was unmoved. He’d been a fool to think he could trust Oliver again; he wouldn’t make that same mistake ever again. He stared at Oliver, thinking he should feel something, but there was only indifference.

  “Look, Oliver, there is no us. Think of this as a great opportunity for you to date whoever you want and find someone who can spend time with you. You know I won’t be able to do that.”

  “But I want you.”

  “You can’t have me, so do you mind?” He tried to pull the door closed, but Oliver held fast. “C’mon, Oliver, why are you making this so difficult? We obviously want two different things out of a relationship.”

  “I can change,” he pleaded.

  “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Because I need you.”

  Jimmy pursed his lips. “You just want what you can’t have.”

  “That’s not it at all. I love you, baby. I need you in my life. Need you to help me become a better man.”

  “Okay, I’m done with this conversation.” Jimmy’s irritation was growing by leaps and bounds. “What you need to do is let go of my fucking door.”

  “Not until you talk to me. I’m not going to stop until you at least give me a chance to explain. We were so good together, we can be again. I… I’ll get therapy.”

  “That’s a good idea, you should talk to someone.”

  “Then you’ll take me back?”

  “No.” Jimmy yanked the door and Oliver pulled his hands away just in time to keep them from being smashed. Jimmy fired up the car and put it in gear. Oliver wasn’t a complete idiot; well, he was, but he obviously knew Jimmy was done because he didn’t try to block his path. Jimmy had no doubt that Oliver wouldn’t give up, which blew his fucking mind. It wasn’t beneath Oliver to beg, but for someone who thought he was better than everyone else, groveling seemed a bit extreme.

  He had barely made it out of the lot when his cell chirped. He didn’t even bother to look at it. He could only deal with Oliver so much for one day. If this kept up, he
was going to have to spend a lot of time and effort and change his number, but the peace and quiet would be worth it.

  Jimmy didn’t head home; instead he decided to drive around. It was only slightly cowardly on his part. The other part was because he really didn’t want to end up in jail for bitch slapping Oliver if he showed up. Even though he hadn’t made any conscious plans, it didn’t surprise him when he ended up on the road to Eric’s. It was familiar, what he’d always done when he was younger and upset or happy or bored or…. Yeah, it was simply familiar.

  An unfamiliar truck was parked next to the barn, and Jimmy could see a small group of men standing near the corral. He should have called first. He thought about turning around and heading back to the house, but Eric suddenly waved and the smile on his face had Jimmy cutting the engine and stepping out of the car.

  “Hey! I tried calling you a few minutes ago.”

  “Sorry, I figured it was Oliver calling again so I didn’t even check it.”

  “He’s still bothering you?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Just being a pain. What’s going on?” he asked, nodding toward the group of strangers.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you. How are your knitting skills?”

  “My what?”

  Eric introduced Jimmy as his business partner to the men: John Walton and his two sons Markus and Heath, sheep farmers who had come to check out Eric’s land to see if it could sustain sheep and the numbers.

  “I was explaining to Mr. Halter that sheep can easily be integrated into an established farm and are a good complement to cattle. They can also contribute to the economic and environmental sustainability of the whole farm. You’ve got plenty of land here and you could easily incorporate sheep into your existing grazing operation. You could even add some goats with the sheep, cattle, and horses. Multispecies grazing is useful in increasing pasture efficiency.”

  The Waltons were a wealth of information, and Jimmy got the gist of the conversation, but it really had little to do with him. If Eric and Scott thought they needed sheep and goats and any other kind of critter, then they should go for it.

  “So what do you think?” Eric asked when John completed his appraisal.

  Jimmy ran his hand over the back of his neck. “It’s all very interesting, but perhaps Scott would have been a better person to discuss this with. I just showed up for the sweet tea.”

  “He’s more of the silent partner,” Eric explained. “If you’ll leave me some literature, I’ll pass it on to Scott and we’ll get back with you.”

  The Waltons gone, Jimmy and Eric sat on the back porch, sweet tea in hand. “I think sheep are a great idea. John Walton is big on organic farming and has a lot of great ideas on what works and what doesn’t.”

  “If you think it’s a good idea, then I say go for it. Sounds like a lot more work and a lot more animal shit to me, but if you’re up for it.” Jimmy shrugged. “I just don’t want you jumping into this and taking on more than you can handle.”

  “I like to stay busy.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but cows, horses, sheep, chickens, hounds, bees—you don’t think it would be easier to introduce one new thing at a time?”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I have no doubt you can, but you have to find time to have a little fun too.”

  “Says the man getting ready to pull thirty-six-hour on-call shifts.”

  “Touché.” Jimmy chuckled.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, some of the hands and I are going out for pizza tonight. You want to come with?”

  “Hmm, what time? Tonight’s Mom and Dad’s last night, so I couldn’t come until, say, eight.”

  “Dad’s bedtime, huh? Lucky for you, that’s exactly when we’re going.”

  “Cool. I’m definitely in.” Jimmy downed his tea, set the glass aside, and slid on his shades. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it. I think I’ve hidden out long enough.”

  “Hidden out?”

  “Ran into Oliver at the post office. I swear that guy is going to drive me to drink.”

  “Wouldn’t be a good idea, dude. I saw the extremity of him pushing you there.”

  “Ugh! Don’t remind me. I’ll see you at eight.”

  “Should I bring a bottle and a couple shot glasses?”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” Jimmy warned. He stopped next to his car and cocked his head. “Then again, I could repay the favor if you plan on tying one on.”

  The look of horror on Eric’s face had Jimmy still laughing as he headed back home. He couldn’t wait until things around Hale got back to the way they should be. Sure, he’d be gone a lot, but when he was home, he had plenty to look forward to. He couldn’t believe that he’d ever wanted to leave this place.

  Chapter Fourteen

  STEPPING THROUGH the door of Sorrento’s, Eric pulled his soft-bill cap from his head and stuffed it in his back pocket. The scent of tomatoes, oregano, and rising yeast caused his belly to growl. Donny Sorrento made the best damn pizza in the county, probably the whole damn state.

  “Hi, Eric! Lookin’ good,” Mandy Aldridge complimented and batted her long lashes at him. “Hey, y’all,” she added dismissively to Rodney and Kirk without sparing a glance in their direction, her attention firmly on Eric.

  “Hey, darlin’, how you doing tonight?”

  “Would be better if I didn’t have to work. You got plans tonight?”

  “Depends,” Eric drawled. He leaned on the counter and winked.

  “Yeah, depends on if you feed us or not, Romeo,” Rodney grumped.

  “Sorry, sugar, gotta go feed the boys. Can you bring us a pitcher of beer?” Eric asked.

  “Anything for you.” Mandy licked her glossy lips seductively.

  “What the hell are we, chopped liver?” Kirk complained. “See if I leave you a damn tip.”

  “Don’t pay them no mind, you just keep that beer coming,” Eric told her and grabbed a couple of menus on the way to the table.

  “You have no shame.” Rodney chuckled as he pushed into the booth next to Kirk.

  “What?” Eric asked, innocently hiding his grin behind his menu. “Just making sure we get us some good service is all.”

  “Playin’ with that woman’s heart like that. You know you ain’t got no intentions of messin’ with her,” Kirk grumbled.

  “You’re just mad cause she ain’t lookin’ your way and you got it bad for her,” Rodney said and draped his arm over Kirk’s shoulder. “You better stick with the teen girls. Maybe once you can grow hair on your balls, you’ll get you a woman.”

  “I got plenty of hair on my balls.” Kirk elbowed Rodney, forcing him to release him.

  “Dude, ever hear of manscaping?” Mandy asked, wrinkling her nose as she set the pitcher of beer and three glasses down on the table.

  Eric and Rodney burst out laughing at the look of horror on Kirk’s bright red face.

  “Grab another glass when you come back, will ya?”

  “You got a date?” Mandy asked with a pout.

  “Just Jimmy.”

  “Oh, I haven’t seen him in forever. How’s he doing?”

  “Ask him yourself,” Eric said with a nod toward the door.

  Jimmy stepped into Sorrento’s wearing a tight pair of Wranglers that hugged his lean hips and a denim shirt, both of which looked damn good on him. Eric hated the preppy shit Jimmy had started wearing when he’d first run off to Chicago. If he never saw the man in a pastel polo shirt again, it would be too soon. Eric was glad to see Jimmy was back to looking like the country boy he was meant to be. But he damn sure shouldn’t be thinking about the way Jimmy looked in those jeans and he sure as fuck shouldn’t be checking out his hips or how they’d fit perfectly in Eric’s hands. You’re losing it, man, Eric chastised himself silently. But it didn’t matter; part of him wasn’t listening because when Jimmy caught sight of them and smiled broadly, that weird tingling fire Eric had whenever he was around Jimmy flared to life.

  “Hi, Jimmy, how are you?
” Mandy asked and wrapped her arms around Jimmy’s neck.

  “Can’t complain.” He patted her on the back. He pointed to a glass. “Can I get one of those?”

  “Was just on my way to get you one,” Mandy informed him.

  Jimmy slid into the booth next to Eric, bumping him with his shoulder, and greeted Rodney and Kirk with a nod. And fuck if the guy didn’t smell good. His spicy aftershave was nice, but it didn’t completely mask Jimmy’s natural scent. He smelled like sunshine, sweet grass, and fresh country air. Eric started to lean in and inhale deeply, but caught himself at the last second. Goddammit, stop! First Jimmy’s clothes and now his friend’s scent, and Eric better fucking knock it off because that tingling fire was now settling into his groin and he’d be damned if he was about to acknowledge it. Nope, he wasn’t.

  “How come you’re the only one who got a hug?” Kirk asked.

  “That’s because I’m safe. She knows I’m not going to grope her ass like the rest of you boneheads would.” Jimmy grinned.

  Rodney pointed at Eric. “I don’t know, Jimmy. I’m pretty sure she’s wanting that bonehead to grope her.”

  “Oh, you got a boner for her?” Jimmy asked and waggled his brows.

  “Shut up,” Eric grumbled and shoved a menu at Jimmy. “What do y’all want on your pizza?” He so wasn’t discussing boners or who was causing his to pop. Stupid dick had a mind of its own these days.

  “I just came for the company. Mom made sure I was good and stuffed with the last home-cooked meal. Which reminds me, before we leave, I’ve got a goodie basket in the car for ya.”

  “Good ol’ Mama B. What time they leaving tomorrow?”