Chapter Five
WINTER
“So,” Rob said with a sly grin. “You and Deacon Clark were having a cozy little conversation earlier.”
Rob and Gunter had been standing outside and watched us leave. Then, of course, they noticed me walk back alone. Ro and I had decided to have our pastries at one of the tables in the sunshine, and of course they took it upon themselves to come over and get their fill of gossip.
“He’s cute,” Gunter said. “Don’t you think?”
I’m surprised he didn’t nudge-nudge or wink-wink me.
They’d both acted a bit weird about little old gay me turning up in this town at the beginning of the holidays. They’d assured me it wasn’t some sex-cult thing like I’d first assumed, but I still wasn’t entirely convinced.
“He stopped by to check on the kittens,” I explained.
“He is cute,” Ro added, giving my foot a nudge, which of course made me blush, and Rob and Gunter both thought that was funny.
“He’s . . .” I wasn’t sure if I should tell them, but I figured I may as well throw myself into the fire. “He’s coming back later tonight to help me with the inventory.”
The three of them were intensely interested in this development.
“Ooh,” Ro said. “I will make myself very scarce.”
“Or you could stay and help,” I added. “More hands, the more we get done.”
I ignored the way the three of them were looking at me until I relented.
“Yes, okay. He’s very nice, very cute. He’s very smart, and I do like my guys quirky.
Let’s be real. Give me a quirky book nerd over a gym-bro any day.
But,” I said, holding up a finger. “And this is the most important part. I’m not looking.
I’m not interested. I’m too busy, especially now I have two kittens who demand feeds every five hours. ”
Rob sighed. “I said the same thing last year.”
“And me three years before that,” Gunter added.
“And Braithe and Colson two years ago, and then there’s Jayden and Cas.
And Hamish and Ren.” He sighed. “And I don’t know how to break it to you, but you probably won’t have much say in it.
I mean, you can try and refuse, but there’s totally a Christmas Cupid thing that goes on in this town every year, and I’m pretty sure you’re it this year. ”
I stared at him.
“I’m sorry, what? I won’t have much say in what?
” I repeated. “So this is a cult thing! And you told me it wasn’t.
You know, for inductees, you seemed normal.
Is there an initiation ceremony? Please tell me it involves cake.
If it involves going into the woods for some hazing ritual, well, I can just stop you right there because I don’t do the outdoors so much. So good luck with that.”
They all laughed.
Which was weird because I wasn’t joking. “So there is cake?”
Rob snorted. “It’s not a cult. But it’s totally a thing. I didn’t believe it either.”
“Neither did I,” Gunter added.
“But here we are. New to town, some kind of shade of queer, and bam! Unsuspecting, then meet the guy of your dreams.”
“That sounds ridiculous,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“It’s true,” Rob said. “I moved in next door to Soren and went out to yell at him for starting his Harley Davidson so early. He took one look at my flamingo pajamas and it was love at first sight.”
“Flamingo pajamas?” I asked.
“Harley Davidson?” Ro asked. “You mean to tell me that fireman who came to rescue the kittens rides a Harley Davidson?”
Rob grinned. “Oh, he certainly does.”
“Yeah, cool,” I said. “Can we get back to the flamingo pajamas for a second?”
Gunter laughed. “And I moved here, and the sexiest lumberjack I’d ever seen delivered a load of wood.”
“I bet he did,” Rob said.
Gunter snorted. “And he also checked my chimney.”
Ro burst out laughing. “Oh, I bet he did.”
I sighed. “You’re all depraved.”
Of course, that made them all laugh.
I settled on a sigh. “Which brings me back full circle. Your Christmas Cupid can go take aim somewhere else. I’m not looking.
I’m just gonna live my very best asexual life with books and that cake you mentioned before.
I don’t want to disappoint another man who says he’s okay with it but really isn’t.
I just need my cute little bookstore in this cute little town with my cute little kittens. ”
“And your cute little aunt,” Ro added.
“Yes. Maybe the Christmas Cupid will come for you,” I told her. “Maybe you’re the intended recipient this year! You just moved here, you’re single, and you’re queerer than me.”
She gasped, her hand to her heart. “It’s not a competition. The Kinsey Scale has a lot of colors. I’ve told you that all your life.”
“True,” I told Rob and Gunter. “She has.”
But then she shook her head and, reaching over, squeezed my hand. “And darling, while that sounds like a lot of fun, I’ve seen the way Deacon looks at you. That Christmas Cupid’s already taken aim and fired his little arrow.”
Rob and Gunter both grinned, and all I could do was sigh.
“Well, that’s a lie,” I said. “Because he doesn’t make eye contact. Although he hasn’t told me as such, I’ve known a lot of neurodivergent people in my life to recognize the tells. He’s looked me in the eye exactly twice in all the times we’ve met.”
“Yes, but when you’re not looking,” Ro said, “that’s when he looks at you.”
Oh.
I felt my cheeks burn.
“Oh.”
“Look,” Gunter said with a wince. “Just between us—and I can say this, Rob is a doctor and is bound by confidentiality, but I’m not—and this is no secret.
It’s well known in this town, not that it’s a bad thing, just that it’s common knowledge.
Deacon is autistic. Everyone knows it. He was born here, grew up here, and the townsfolk were proud that he went off to college to be a vet like his dad.
The Clarks are real good people.” He made a face.
“I don’t mean to be talking out of turn, and I mean no harm, but if you’re interested in him, maybe a heads up couldn’t hurt.
You already said you assumed he was neurodivergent, so .
. .” He finished with another wince and looked at Rob for some kind of confirmation?
Rob gave me a smile. “Neurodivergence and autism are two different things. All people with ASD, autism spectrum disorder, are neurodivergent but not all neurodivergent people are autistic. There are many differences. But,” he added, making a face, “what Gunter said is right. It is common knowledge here. That’s a small town for you though.
Everybody knows everyone else’s business.
So while I won’t say anything about this particular person specifically, what I can say, generally speaking, is this: if you do find yourself in a relationship with a person with ASD, any person, be it simply a friendship or something more, then clear communication is key.
Don’t use sarcasm or innuendos, don’t assume he understands what you may think is a given.
He will have different experiences and reactions, and most things will be achieved or encountered on his time, not yours. ”
I nodded. “I understand all that, but you are right. Even as Deacon’s friend—and I do want his friendship; we have a great deal in common—some research on my behalf can’t hurt. Even just terminology. I’m assuming the vocabulary around ASD changes often, and I don’t want to upset him.”
Rob smiled at me. “I think you’ll do just fine.”
“He is incredibly smart,” I allowed. “When I first took the kittens to him, our conversation was . . . well, I don’t want to say awkward, but between his standoffishness and my tendency to overshare, it was a rollercoaster of a conversation, lemme tell you.
But then when he was talking about the facts and all the medical stuff, he was very articulate. ”
And now, looking back, I was surprised I didn’t click with autism earlier.
I mean, at my last job at the bookstore, I dealt with a lot of eccentric and idiosyncratic folks on the regular.
In fact, most of the staff were neurodivergent, or neurospicy as most of them called themselves.
Did I clock that Deacon had some idiosyncrasies or quirks? Sure. Did I want to assume anything?
No, I didn’t.
I thought it was just him.
It certainly didn’t bother me. Because before I’d been told he was autistic, I was thinking he was kinda great. And my opinion of him now hadn’t changed.
“I should talk to him,” I decided out loud.
“It might be best if you think he’s interested in you and you don’t want that,” Gunter said.
“Oh no,” I amended quickly. “I just meant that I should talk to him.”
They all stared at me.
It made me flustered. “About . . . stuff. And I should read up on ASD, and whatever . . .”
“Mm hmm,” Ro murmured sarcastically. “Still trying to convince yourself you don’t like him?”
I shot her a glare. “I’ve met him all of three times, and I’m not entirely sure the first meeting counts because I was snot-sobbing.”
“And he quoted one of your favorite books to your face.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m not looking for any kind of romance right now.”
She pursed her lips. “How’s that working out for you?”
I sighed. “Oh, shush.”
Rob chuckled, but Gunter held up an imaginary bow and arrow and shot me with it.
It was dark outside, the streetlights downtown casting an orangey glow in the chilly air. I’d stopped working to feed Merry and Bright, but Ro soldiered on, getting through another box of books.
It was a tedious process at the start. Each book needed to be scanned and entered into the system, then shelved.
Setting titles up in the software took a long time, especially to organize an entire store, but it was only because we were starting from scratch.
Getting orders in the future wouldn’t be so tedious or time-consuming.
I watched the clock as it ticked down to seven o’clock, nervous for Deacon to arrive.
No, not just nervous.