Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jarrod
Iknow how special Anderson is.
I replayed the words in my head as I drove us the mile to Fifties. The diner sat on the main street in Mission City—a true relic of the past. I’d met friends here for dinner a few times over the years—always hoping to run into Anderson but it never happening.
In truth, I hadn’t been certain he’d come back to Mission City after leaving college.
One day we’d been in love and planning our lives together.
The next he’d been gone without a word.
I never knew what had happened. Why he’d just been gone in the blink of an eye. At the time, I considered trying to track him down. Had even put his name in a search engine.
But I could never bring myself to clicking on the magnifying glass.
I had mad programming skills—so I could’ve totally done the search without raising any suspicions.
I hadn’t, though. No one mentioned him going missing, so I figured he had good reasons to fuck off and not tell me why or where he was going.
Might I discover those reasons tonight?
Not likely. And I wasn’t going to ask. If he volunteered the information, I’d certainly listen. If not, I’d be content to just bask in the pleasantness of being in his company.
Seventeen years was a long time.
Certainly long enough to heal a broken heart.
Right?
“I haven’t been here in ages.” I cut the engine and unbuckled my seatbelt.
“Adele loves coming here for the milkshakes. I think I’m here once a month.
Damien and Shaw take their tuns as well.
Our girls really are inseparable. I don’t know what’s going to happen when Adele goes to university next autumn.
” He blinked. “But it’s cold out here. Let’s go inside. Hopefully we can get a table.”
We were at almost six o’clock—likely a busy time for the diner. “If the line’s too long, there are about a dozen other places we can go.” Some were fast food, and some were over in Abbotsford, but I didn’t care. Anything to spend more time with this amazing man.
He grinned. “Yeah, we’ll figure something out.”
Within moments, we were out of my pickup truck and hustling over to the restaurant. We made it inside, and I was assailed with the smell of grease, French fries, and something I couldn’t quite identify. Whatever the scent was, I wanted some of that.
A curvy blonde with sparkling-blue eyes greeted us. “Hey, Anderson.” She pivoted to me. “And Anderson’s friend.”
Anderson slid his arm around my waist and tucked himself into my side.
Like he always used to do.
“This is Jarrod. He’s my date.” He gazed up at me. “Jarrod, this is Sarabeth. She’s the heart and soul of this place.”
She laughed. “More like a lowly servant.” She winked. “I love my job. Because I love people.” She tapped Anderson’s chest with her pen. “You’re always big on flattery.”
“I call it like I see it.”
“Well, Carter and Byron just settled up their tab and are leaving. If you give me thirty seconds to clear the booth, it’s all yours.”
“Fantastic.” Anderson waved at two men headed our way. “Carter, the younger one, is a fantasy writer. Byron is an accountant.” He said the words quietly—clearly, so I’d be the only one to hear them. He put on a wide smile as the men approached.
I had to admit, they made an interesting pair.
Byron was likely in his forties. A little stiff and formal.
Carter, whose skin was about my color, sauntered with a bit of swagger—but not in a bad way. Just a guy who appeared really happy. He stuck out his hand. “Anderson, great to see you again.”
Anderson grinned. “Nice to see you too. So glad your book came out last month. We’ve all read it.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And the girls are thrilled they all own signed copies.”
He ducked his head. “Well, nice of Dickens to host a signing for me at The Owl’s Nest.” Then he straightened. “The next book in the series is finished and on my editor’s desk.”
Anderson’s eyebrows shot up. “So soon?”
Carter chuckled. “Remember that it takes over a year from submission to publication. The book you just read? I finished writing it almost two years ago. I feel like I’m slower these days.” He pecked Byron’s cheek. “Probably because I love spending time with my husband and our two pups.”
“Ah yes, how are Sheffield and Rosebud?”
Byron, whose cheeks were still a little pink after Carter’s kiss, offered a shy smile. “Both doing exceedingly well. Just happy dogs. Helps they have two dads who spoil them.”
Carter laughed. “I love being a dad.” He paused. “Oh, how could I forget? We’re fostering a rescue dog right now. Her name’s Mei. She’s the cutest thing. Looking for a forever home.” He batted his eyelashes at Anderson.
He laughed. “Not right now. Adele’s heading to university, and I’m looking at having the house to myself for the first time ever. I’m not certain I want to be tied down with the responsibility of a dog.”
“That’s fair. The brood are with my family. Rosebud is Tansy’s favorite.” He pivoted to me. “My sister.”
“Ah.” I bit back the question on the tip of my tongue. Are you going to have children? That question always popped into my head when I met a gay couple who didn’t have kids. Probably because I wanted them so badly myself.
“I had considered getting a dog.” Anderson shrugged. “Between Adele, and Shaw’s dog Rufus, I’ve got enough chaos in my life.”
“The shepherd, right? Doesn’t he shed everywhere?” Byron tilted his head.
“Yep.” Anderson grinned. “And he’s Shaw’s problem. The last time he and Damien snuck away, Adele and I went to stay at their house. So although my clothes came home covered in dog hair, I didn’t actually have to worry about my house.”
Right. Well, he’s not going to want to be around a guy who works in barns and deals with goat shit.
“Anderson? Jarrod? Your booth is ready. Last one on the left-hand side.”
Anderson blinked. “Oh God, I haven’t even introduced you. Carter, Byron, this is my old friend Jarrod. Well, he’s not old. I mean not as old as—” He winced.
Byron chuckled. “I’m not that much older than the two of you. Nothing like the age difference with my husband.”
Carter beamed. “And yet he still puts up with me.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Even below the music, Byron’s words were clear. “We’ll leave you to your dinner. Jarrod, I hope to see you around again. Anderson needs more friends.” He cleared his throat.
Carter grinned, threading his arm through his husband’s. “Night.”
They escaped through the door, and a blast of cold air blew through.
Anderson shivered. “Let’s get to the booth where it’ll be much warmer.”
As predicted, the booth—at the back of the restaurant—was much warmer. I wanted to tuck him beside me, but decorum dictated we sit across from each other. The booth would’ve been a tight fit with the two of us next to each other.
We shed our coats, and each grabbed a menu.
“Are you going to have a milkshake?” I waited for him to gaze up from the menu.
He did.
Our gazes met. His eyes were the same shade of light brown that I remembered. Eyes that haunted my dreams and fed my waking fantasies. I’d never met anyone with that exact shade.
“Don’t you think it’s a little chilly?” He pretended to shiver. “I was thinking maybe a coffee with dinner or a hot chocolate with dessert.”
“Coffee? This late?”
He frowned. “It’s only six. On a Saturday night.”
“Oh.” Right. Because he didn’t have to get up at some ungodly hour to take care of the goats.
“But you have a point about caffeine. I live on the stuff. Adele is a night owl, and I do my best to be in the office before Shaw most days. I always manage to get some sleep, but I do enjoy my weekend mornings when I get to sleep in.” He eyed me. “I suppose you don’t get to sleep in on the farm?”
“Nah, not really. But I always was an early bird.” Which was true. He’d been what I termed a normal person—up at a reasonable hour and to bed the same. Unless he was doing a theater production. Then he was at the theater till all hours of the night rehearsing and then show times.
I’d never missed a performance. Not a single one.
He’d walked away from all that. Now I knew why.
“What can I get you guys?” Sarabeth put two glasses of water before us.
I hadn’t even looked at the menu. I gestured for Anderson to go first.
“Okay, I have to try the Blue Moon shake. Adele’s going to lose her mind if it’s as good as it looks.”
Sarabeth grinned. “Even better. You getting something to eat?”
“I’ll have the spicy Cajun chicken burger. Side of Caesar.”
“Great.” She pivoted to me.
“I’ll have the classic cherry milkshake.”
“Oh, good choice.” Anderson grinned. “One of my favorites.”
Sarabeth chuckled. “You love all of them.”
“Hey, black licorice is disgusting.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Black licorice. Oh, I love—”
“No goodnight kiss if you do that. I mean, gross.” He screwed up his face. Then, as if realizing what he’d just said, his cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink.
“Cherry it is.” Sarabeth tried to hide a smile—and totally failed. “Dinner?”
“Well, a little odd, but can I get the mushroom and cheese omelet?”
“Sure.” She cocked her head. “Why odd?”
“Well, an omelet for dinner.”
“Honey, one of my favorite customers orders meatloaf for breakfast. We’re open twenty-four hours, and you never know what they’ve just done when someone arrives. For all I know, you work the night shift and this is your breakfast.” She snagged the menus. “Anything else?”
We shook our heads.
“But I reserve the right to order dessert.” Anderson spoke to Sarabeth, but his gaze was on me. “Possibly to share.”
“Chocolate lava cake?”
His gaze shot to the server. “You know me too well.”
“You were coming in here long before I started working. I’ll save you one.” With that, she took off.
“That long?” I sipped my water.
“My mom brought me here when I was a kid. I mean, it’s been around since the fifties. Her favorite place to come.”
“How is she doing?”
He cleared his throat. “She died two years ago.”
“Oh shit.” I winced. “I always was good at stepping in it.”
He waved me off. “You didn’t have any way of knowing.
Cancer. She was gone way too soon. Still had some living to do.
” He sipped his water. “I’m sorry Adele had to watch her grandmother suffer, but that matured her.
I would’ve tried to shield her, but she didn’t want any part of that.
She was there—at the end. My mom chose MAID, Medical Assistance in Dying, so she could die quietly at home at the time of her choosing.
Adele and I took comfort in that. I miss her every day.
She helped me raise Adele when I wasn’t sure I could do it.
I mean, twenty-two’s not a teenager, but I was still completely unprepared.
Hell, I didn’t even know how to change a diaper.
Mom taught me. Then she watched Adele while I found a job and tried to support all of us. ”
“Sounds rough.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad…well, I shouldn’t say I’m glad my sister died—because that would make me a horrible brother.
Just… I thought when she had Adele that she’d straighten up.
She didn’t. So I’m glad Adele didn’t have to grow up with a mother who chose drugs over and over again.
I would’ve kept trying to get her clean, but she really wasn’t interested. ”
“Jesus.” I couldn’t fathom.
“Yep. I miss my sister, but she was so sunk into her addiction that I’d spent little time with her in the years before she died. Mom?” His voice broke a little. “She’s always been here.”
Yet she’d never come to any of his performances. And when I’d hinted I wanted to meet her, he’d always had an excuse. I’d wondered if that was because I was Black, he was in the closet, or some combination.
That said, I never told him about the family farm. Had never brought him to Chilliwack.
He blinked, then shook his head. “Enough glumness. Tell me about yourself. How did you wind up selling goat’s milk soap that smells divine?”
Yeah. Okay.