8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
It had been a pain in the ass, but finally, the moving truck was packed and ready to go. They would meet me in Foggy Basin in two days. Two. Days. My whole life would change in two days. But who was I kidding? It had already changed.
One of the guys slammed the back door shut with a loud bang as I signed off on the paperwork on the other guy’s tablet. It wasn’t a large truck, but my whole life was packed inside. I rubbed my face, I needed to knock off all the morose bullshit.
“So you’re really doing it?” George Reynolds from across the street waved at me as he crossed over.
“Moving away to that little podunk town?” He was in pretty good shape, but developing a little pudge around the middle, and silver sprinkled his dark hair.
But I didn’t know him well. Wasn’t even sure where he worked or what he did for a living.
“Looks like. Eddy wanted everyone to move, so everyone moves.”
We stood there a minute, watching the truck drive off and turn the corner, then he scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the curb. “You could have found another job instead.”
“Didn’t want one. Eddy’s more than a boss, he’s my best friend.” Why was admitting it to a stranger easier than telling Eddy? It figured. “Besides, I love working there.” That was the truth. Loved it so much that I packed up my life and moved to the last place on earth I wanted to be.
“Nice. I’ve never had a boss who was anything but a boss.
I’ve never had anything really. Work, work, work.
” He sounded like he was trying to keep things light, but his voice dipped into heavy at the end.
“Fuck. I’ve never had anything but this house.
Leaving is not possible for me. Hell, I grew up here.
Two blocks over.” He waved his hand toward the north end.
“I didn’t know that.” Surely everyone had possibilities in life that they could make happen. “I bet you could move if you wanted, though.”
“Yeah, well. I never wanted that. Maybe once. But I never had the guts. You get in the same old rut, you know? Now, I’m too old for any of that bullshit.”
I wanted to ask him more, but anything else would be too personal, especially when I was leaving, never to return, the next day.
But he scoffed. “Worse thing about your move is you’ll never find someone to be with.
Hard enough here in the big city.” As if Sacramento was all that big, but George raised his hands over his head as if he thought it was.
“I never found anyone here. Never married. And I’ve never seen you with anyone.
Both of us…” he gestured between us. “Work, work, work.”
“Yeah. I work a lot.”
George clapped my shoulder. “Ahh…listen to me. I’m just a lonely old man. Full of myself. You’re going to be fine. Good luck to ya.”
“Thanks, George.”
He waved and left me standing there looking at the other houses on the block, wondering if this was a big mistake.
I brushed it off with a good shake and headed back inside. Tomorrow morning, I would need to clean. It wasn’t in bad shape or anything, but I’d give it a once-over, mostly floors and windows. But for now, I wanted to jump in the pool.
My new place didn’t have one, so I want to take this last swim. Who knew how long it would be before I got another one in? Of course, putting in a pool later was always an option, if I decided to buy the house. I loved the water, so I probably would.
After quickly changing into my trunks, I eased down into the cool water.
I’d never been one to jump in. I preferred slow and easy to adjust to the temperature of the water.
But once in, I went all the way under. It was refreshing.
I came up and shook like a dog, my long hair slapping around my face. I was going to miss my pool for sure.
Swimming a few laps helped me clear my brain.
Normally, it was my zen as well as fitness, but after the first lap though, my brain decided to churn out more crap.
George from across the street was probably only twenty years older than me, maybe less.
Is that what I had to look forward to for the next phase of my life? Work, work, work. Then come home alone.
Alone.
It didn’t seem fair and wasn’t what I wanted. It was bothering the fuck out of me and ruining my swim. I stopped and flipped over, floating on my back.
I didn’t want to end up like that, didn’t want to be alone.
What the fuck? Was I meant to die an old, lonely, cranky workaholic?
Like George? It was true that there were a hell-of-a-lot fewer single gay men in Foggy Basin and the surrounding community, and my new house was kind of out in the sticks, alone in the country.
And what about Jackie? Because, of course, that’s where this train of thought would lead.
Jackie Corbin—fiery redhead extraordinaire.
And where had he been the last few weeks?
I hadn’t seen him at all. It was totally weird and…
damn, I hated to admit that I missed him.
He’d gotten under my skin already. Fuck. Just fuck me.
But seriously, was having a real relationship with him even possible?
I didn’t actually know him that well, though I enjoyed reading his blog.
It made me feel like there was some peace out there to find, and maybe it was possible to get to know some people, maybe even enrich my life instead of continuing on this lonely rat race.
Maybe a small town, filled with folks who wanted more from their community, had more to offer as well.
And maybe, I needed a blog-writing firecracker to show me that.
Jackie was a force to be reckoned with. That much I knew. And he was an extremely good friend. Not only was he Brock’s best friend, but he’d taken to Eddy as well, and I knew from experience that wasn’t always easy to do. Eddy could be challenging—a neurotic little mess.
But what else did I know about Jackie? What did he like? What did he dream about? Something inside me burned to find out.
The stress I’d been carrying in my shoulders and neck eased up. Interesting. This was the first time I’d focused on what I liked about him instead of all the ways we’d fuck it up. It was the first time I truly considered a possible future with Jackie. Maybe.
Maybe.