3. Bar Trouble
BAR TROUBLE
The next few days were not any more exciting than Jake’s first day in Eventide, which was to say that they were downright dreary. Isabel didn’t even need him to go to the store again, so he was trapped at the house, working and cleaning and repairing and talking.
It was clear to Jake after his second day with his aunt just how lonely she’d been. He almost felt guilty that she had to be alone for so long after his uncle died.
Almost, because he was here now, and she had him all to herself for however long it took to sell the house.
Saturday was his worst day yet. He’d promised Isabel all week that he would take a look at her car, but every time he went out and opened the hood, it was startling just how little he understood what was going on in there.
Many video tutorials, years-old forum posts, and drawings from the repair manual Isabel had found later, Jake had a vague idea of what he needed to do.
That didn’t make it much easier.
By the time the sun was setting, Jake had ruined his T-shirt and jeans with grease and oil from the car. But it now started every time he tried it, and it even sounded okay. Maybe not the best, but okay.
“Fuck this,” he muttered. “I’m calling that a success.” And he went inside, throwing his clothes straight into the trash as soon as he got out of the shower.
He fell into bed that night, too tired to do anything but sleep. If he could keep up this routine, the days would just fly by.
“I think you should go out on the town today,” Isabel said the next morning as they sipped coffee at the dining table. “It’s the weekend, and you’ve hardly seen anything that Eventide has to offer yet.”
“I saw Sandway,” Jake told her.
Isabel laughed. “That’s nothing. You should go to the beach for the afternoon. Get some sand between your toes, and maybe even go for a swim. Did you bring swim trunks?”
Jake shook his head.
“You can buy some while you’re here then.” Isabel took a sip of her coffee. “I can’t remember, did you visit the park here when you last visited?”
“When I was ten?”
“Yes.”
“I… don’t remember.” Jake shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well, it’s beautiful. Most of the beach is actually part of the park, but there’s also a nice wooded area, and some little picnic tables to sit at, and…”
Isabel kept talking, but her voice faded away from Jake as he stirred his spoon around and around in his cup, creating a little whirlpool of milky coffee.
“You might even be able to make some friends once you get out a bit and get used to the town.”
Jake looked up. “Friends?”
“You know, people you can spend time with.”
“Yeah, I know what friends are. I’m not gonna be here for that long, though. I don’t think making friends is a good idea.”
“You’re going to be awfully lonely then.” Isabel cupped her coffee mug in her hands as she studied her nephew. “It doesn’t hurt to get to know people a little. You don’t have to make friends for life. Just meet some new folks that you can talk to if you ever feel like having some younger company.”
Jake knew what was being left unsaid: If you ever feel like you need to get away from me.
He didn’t finish Isabel’s thought for her.
That would be cruel. But he didn’t disagree with her implication either.
A quiet little house with his widowed aunt for his only company could hardly be considered fun.
“I’m not sure a park is the best place to go for that, though,” Jake finally said, setting his spoon down on his napkin.
“No, I suppose you’re right. But there must be something out there that you would enjoy.”
“I’ll head out later and see what I can find to do. You don’t happen to know of any gay bars nearby, do you?”
Isabel chuckled, shaking her head. “No, Jakey, I don’t. You could try Grayland, though. That’s the city where they hold the local pride parade every year. It’s about an hour’s drive from here, but if you really want to go, it might be worth it.”
“God, that’s grim. I’ll look into it.” Jake downed the rest of his coffee and stood up, ready to walk away before he paused. “Hey, do you know anything about a Robert Eaton?”
“Junior? Of course I do. Why?”
“I met him at Sandway earlier this week. Real asshole, huh?”
“Well, I shouldn’t comment on that, but—wait, did you say you saw him at Sandway?”
“Yeah. He helped me find something—rudely, obviously. He just had to point out that I was new here.”
“No, that couldn’t have been Robert Jr. You must have gotten him confused with someone else.”
“He told me that was his name. Brown hair, blue eyes, pretty tall, kind of a stuck-up face?”
“Oh, you mean Robbie?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what he called himself when we met. Yeah, Robbie. Is he not a junior?”
“You’re talking about Robert Alan Eaton the 3rd,” Isabel corrected him. “He’s Robert Jr.’s son. Nice kid.”
“He’s hardly a kid, and he’s sure as hell not nice.”
“Well, he’s always been nice to me. Maybe you just caught him on an off day.”
“Maybe,” Jake said, still skeptical. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to know. Hopefully you don’t need me to go to that fucking bookstore anytime soon. I don’t wanna run into him again if I can help it.”
“Watch your language, please,” Isabel said.
Jake set his cup in the sink. “Sorry, Aunt Isabel.”
“You’ll see Robbie again. It’s only a matter of time. His family practically runs this town, and he’s a big part of it.”
Jake groaned. “I was afraid of that. Well, hopefully he doesn’t like hanging out in bars and… old theaters.”
“He likes the beach.”
“I know. Especially long walks on the beach, right?”
Isabel glanced back, her brow furrowed. “That’s oddly specific. How do you know that?”
“Never mind, Aunt Isabel. Never mind.”
Jake found himself wandering around town that evening for much longer than he had anticipated, just looking for something to do.
At his aunt’s suggestion, he’d looked into driving to Grayland, but it hardly seemed worth it for another town maybe double the size of Eventide.
It had a bigger gay scene, but when Eventide had none at all, that wasn’t saying much.
On any given Sunday night back home, Jake knew exactly what he’d be doing right now—grinding up against a guy at the club, the music and lights deafening every unnecessary sense.
It was too early for him to be home yet, balls-deep in some hot twink’s throat, but that would’ve been the end goal. And it would’ve been fun.
Instead, he meandered down the quiet street, hands in his pockets, the sun setting behind him. It was peaceful. Too peaceful. He couldn’t stand it for much longer.
With nowhere else to go, Jake finally gritted his teeth and slipped into The Cove, the dingy bar across from the movie theater.
The outside was not promising, with salt-damaged concrete along the stretch of sidewalk, dull red paint flaking off far worse than the paint Isabel’s house, and a door whose glass had been broken one time too many, and now had cardboard taped up in its place.
Inside the lighting was dim, but not in a sexy way. It felt like half the bulbs in the building had burned out, and no one bothered to replace them, instead leaving the remaining flickering incandescents to do all the work.
Some generic 80s pop rock blasted from a radio behind the counter. It suffocated the room, yet still couldn’t even manage to numb Jake’s brain enough for him to get used to it.
He took as deep a breath of the stale air as he could and approached the bar, sitting down on one of the stools—the only one that didn’t have a rip in its vinyl cushion. He waited for the bartender to notice him as he drummed his fingers on the countertop.
A sign directly in front of him advertising some beer he’d never heard of suddenly came to life. One of the neon tubes stayed dark, leaving a blank space on the edge of the sign, but the rest remained lit, only flashing once the entire time Jake stared at it.
“How can I help you?” The bartender, a middle-aged man with a bald head and a short beard peppered with gray hairs, asked as he walked up to the counter.
“Vodka soda,” Jake said, eyeing the bottles of alcohol behind the man. “With your most expensive vodka,” he added.
“It’s cash only here, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Okay, vodka soda, coming right up.”
“Oh, and do you serve any food?”
The bartender chuckled, his back turned to Jake as he worked. Jake tried his best to see what he was doing, but it was worryingly difficult. “We’ve got pretzels.”
“Sure, that’s fine.”
The bartender gave Jake his drink and slid a bowl of pretzels over to him. Jake picked one up, bit into it, and set the rest of the pretzel down on his napkin. “How long have these been out?”
The bartender shrugged. “Since yesterday, I guess.”
Jake nodded slowly. “Uh-huh.”
“You want fresh ones?”
“Is the bag unopened?”
“Nope.”
“Then I’m good.”
A gust of cool night air filled the room.
Jake glanced back. A man about his age walked in, jeans tight enough to leave little to the imagination, and a hint of his spicy cologne breaking through the musty room.
He studied the man for a moment until his gaze met Jake’s.
Jake looked back down at his drink, waiting to make his next move only when this man took his turn first.
He sat down next to Jake, offering him a quick, polite smile. Jake looked up again and smiled back, nodding.
“Hey, Nick,” the man said. “Get me the usual.” His voice was deep, and just for a moment, Jake doubted his thoughts. He was getting ahead of himself. But after his week in hell, it was worth a try.
Nick nodded. “Sure thing, Connor.”
Jake took a swig of his drink and turned to face Connor a little more. “You been in Eventide for very long?” he asked.
Connor turned toward him. “What? Oh, yeah, about a decade. You?”
“I just got here a few days ago.”
“Wow, so what brought you here?”
“My aunt.” Jake paused, downing more of his drink. There was truly nothing sexier than bringing family into a conversation he hoped would lead to a hookup. “I’m helping her get her house fixed up.”
“Is she selling?”