Chapter 11
Charlie
I sat there, watching as Teague vanished through the door.
My heart was beating fast, but it wasn’t the usual discomfort, at least not completely. Something about him today had opened my eyes.
It was like Nic and Dana had said, there was no mean bone in Teague’s body. The way he talked about his nephew made my heart do something happy in my chest. It was so, so clear he loved Oakley as much as I loved my nieces and nephew.
I put the pastry box next to my already empty coffee mug. I really needed a restart for the day, and it had nothing to do with Teague.
No, I’d woken up way too early to some rustling directly on the opposite side of the wall from my bed. At first, I’d thought it was Cricket, but then I’d checked the time and realized there was no way. She started her rounds half past five—yes, you could almost set your clock by her, at least that was what her moms said—and it wasn’t even five yet.
I wasn’t sure what there was in the woods over here, but that lizard brain of mine was convinced I’d been ten inches from being mauled by a grizzly.
So, by the time Nic unlocked the lobby door, I was already waiting to get inside from the surprisingly chilly morning air. She’d told me that we really needed to get me my own keys and that I could ask Cricket what had been sniffing around the cabin.
I guess it was as valid of a way to figure it out as any. If I took Cricket to the cabin and pointed out where something had been, she wouldn’t go nuts over a deer. If she reacted more protectively, I would have to invest in… I wasn’t even sure. Bear spray? Security cameras? Cattle prod? Xanax?
Nic patted my cheek and told me to chill, that being in the woods meant there were other things in there, too. Then she led me into the kitchen where her wife was already starting the morning prep that couldn’t be done the night before.
Nic left me with Dana and went on her way, and I sat in the corner of the kitchen, out of Dana’s way, and occasionally chatting with her when she asked something. I got fed as she worked and took my coffee into the office instead of doing the usual dining room thing.
And now there I sat, wondering if I could deal with Teague’s obvious attraction to me.
I hated my brain sometimes. A lot of times, really. I knew there was nothing wrong about someone finding me attractive. It just… it made my skin crawl, because I didn’t feel like I belonged in that skin.
Objectively, Teague seemed like a teddy bear with a foot-in-mouth syndrome. The thought made me smile slightly and I shook my head.
Instead of wallowing in whatever was going on in my brain, I grabbed the mug and went into the dining room to get some more caffeine. There were no early bird guests this morning, and I could hear Dana humming happily in the kitchen, because the door was propped open.
Smiling, I went back into the office and consumed the Unicorn Fart, then decided that I really should go into town to visit this magician, Regan.
I was knee-deep in the books when lunchtime rolled around and a young guy walked up to the front desk.
“Hey, you’re Charlie; I’m Oak.” He grinned a little, as if we were friends already.
I made sure to manually save the spreadsheet I was working on, closed the laptop, and got up from my saddle chair.
“That’d be me. Nice to meet you,” I said as I stretched a little. “Getting lunch?”
“Yeah, Nic said to poke you to come with me.”
I went out of the office and locked the door behind myself—at least I had the interior door keys—then gestured for Oak to go first.
He was shorter than me, maybe 5’9”, and on the slimmer side. The contrast between him and his uncle was kind of funny.
“They don’t offer lunch, but Dana always makes the staff some,” I said as I stepped around Oak to go to the kitchen.
“Hey, guys. Ready to eat?” Dana asked from where she was wiping down one of the long counters.
“Nic told him to get me and come here.” I nodded toward Oak. “I think she thinks I won’t eat if she won’t make me….”
Dana grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits.”
Oak snorted.
“I have pasta salad, and since I’ve been craving them, I made fish sticks,” she said while taking out a huge salad bowl from the massive fridge.
“Fish sticks?” Oak asked, his voice suddenly excited as fuck. “Really?”
“Yeah, I make a better version, a more adult one, but they’re not that different from what we all ate as kids.”
“Oh, my mom didn’t like processed foods, so we never got them at home,” Oak said, eyes shining with excitement. “But I once had some at a friend’s place, when I was still allowed to have friends that weren’t part of the church, and they were so good and—” He stopped himself, swallowed hard, and averted his eyes.
“What are we drinking?” I asked Dana to take pressure off the kid. I was starting to see why Teague wasn’t willing to tell Oak’s story.
Dana snorted. “Check the snack fridge, there’s all sorts of stuff there. Nic might’ve gone a bit nuts….”
“There’s a snack fridge now?” I’d clearly missed something. Then I lifted my hand. “You know what, I’ve known her since college, why am I even questioning this?”
Dana laughed and went to the frying pan where I assumed she had her fancy fish sticks.
When I opened the fridge door, I whistled. “Oak, come take a look.”
He sidled up to me, his eyes going huge. “Oh… oh wow.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, that’s a lot. Well, pick a drink and dessert, I suppose.”
He grabbed a Dr. Pepper and a couple of Twinkies from a box, then he held his loot to his chest as if he were five years old like Tristan.
I reached for a Cherry Pepsi and a Snickers bar, then closed the door.
“I gave her that fridge so she wouldn’t gather a stash at our place or in the pantries. Sure, there’s stuff there that doesn’t need to be in a fridge, but who cares,” Dana spoke as she divvied up the fish sticks onto four plates. “I needed that fridge less than I hate having random shit in my pantry shelves….” Her tone told me this had been an ongoing discussion for a while.
Oak widened his eyes comically.
“We’ll take our plates to the dining room if that’s okay?” I asked Dana, because normally I’d just eat here, but today we had a fourth person joining us.
“Sure, go ahead as long as you clean up after yourself.”
“I’ll do it. It’s my job anyway,” Oak immediately volunteered.
We filled our plates with the pasta salad and awkwardly carried all our treats through the kitchen door.
Nic dashed in with a phone to her ear and marched into the kitchen, rapid-fire chatting with someone about… something, something?
“She’s so efficient,” Oak said, sounding a bit awed.
I snorted. “It’s a bit of efficiency, mostly organized chaos.” I sat down at the table closest to the kitchen. “Don’t get me wrong, her mad professional skills make up for everything else, but she can be a bit… whirlwindy.”
“Noted.” Oak organized his side of the table neatly; treats to one side, plate centered, soda poured into a glass he’d grabbed from a rack by the door. There was something meticulous about that in a way I recognized from my own behavior, even though I’d managed to let go of some of it.
“Oh, man, this is so good,” I groaned, then grabbed the lemon wedge from the side of my plate to squeeze more onto the fish. “Holy crap.”
Oak’s eyes shone again. He dug in, clearly trying to control himself. As soon as he took his first bite, he made a happy sound and did a little aborted jig in his chair.
“Everything you remembered?” I grinned.
“Mhmm, even better. This is like what did Dana say? An adult version? So good.”
Because I couldn’t help myself, after a while of silent eating, I asked, “Your uncle said you’re new in town?”
Oak’s nose scrunched up a bit. “Yeah. My parents live in Utah; they’re Mormon. Was a shitty situation for a queer kid. Ran away.” He took a sip from his glass, this innocent happiness spreading over his face for a few seconds before going serious again. “I mean I was at college and all that; I’m not actually a kid.” He let out a self-deprecating sound.
“Ah. Well, for what it’s worth, I ran away from my parents too.”
Oak frowned. “When?”
“Nearly two weeks ago now.” I grinned and shook my head a bit. I could understand and relate to self-deprecation.
“But aren’t you like, Uncle Teague’s age?”
I chuckled. “I don’t know how old your uncle is, but I assume pretty close, yes. I’m thirty.”
Oak looked at me as if his mind was blown. Then he ate a bit more, mulling over my words.
“It was never about me being queer, which I am,” I explained. “It’s more about everything else about me, really.”
“Like what?” he asked in the way a young person would, without shedding a thought about if the question was appropriate or welcome.
Maybe that was the reason why I answered him. “My being born fucked up a lot of things for my family. That’s where it started. But it’s not the main issue nowadays. I have… uh… body dysmorphia.”
“Are you trans?” Oak blurted out, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”
I laughed, the sound drawing Nic back from the kitchen. “What’s going on here?” she asked, smiling.
“No, it’s not about gender, I’m very comfortably cis.”
Her smile dropped, and she glanced at Oak and back to me as if trying to gauge if I was fine.
“It’s okay. He asked. I feel fine talking about it for the moment. Go back to your wife.” I shooed her with a hand movement.
She rolled her eyes but left us be.
“I’m really sorry I blurt out these questions like this. It’s….”
I smirked. “A family trait?”
Oak groaned and hung his head. “Holy shit, you might be right. My grandma is really bad at being polite to idiots, her words not mine, and I always thought that’s where Uncle Teague gets his no filter whatsoever between his brain and mouth.” He pointed at me. “Why did you have to hold a mirror to me like that, man?”
I snorted and laughed, then ate the rest of my food before answering. “Because mirrors are evil and so am I?”
Oak opened his mouth, then closed it. It was clear that he was sharp as a tack, and immediately understood I was talking about having issues with mirrors.
“Well, screw you, sir,” he deadpanned.
“You’re a bit too young, sorry kid,” I said quickly.
We looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Yeah, I could see that being friends with Oak wasn’t going to be an issue.
By the time Teague came to collect his nephew that day, I had already left the motel to walk up the hill with Cricket, because I wasn’t prepared to bump into him again so soon.
When I showed her the side of the cabin, she dutifully sniffed around the area, her tail wagging a little. Then she looked up at me as if to ask why I was making a fuss about something harmless.
“Okay, I believe you, girl.” I patted her and decided to trust her instincts. “Thank you.”
She wagged her tail some more, headbutted my knee hard enough that I almost fell, and then ambled over to the shower building again to start whatever round she was making.
Since it was only three, I decided to drive into town to go get more snacks and maybe go see if I could find a book or two somewhere.
I ended up parking close enough to Regan’s bakery that I recognized it by the signage, but since it was afternoon, I decided not to go in today. And besides, what if Teague and Oak headed there or something. I didn’t want to seem like I was there for them. Well, mostly for Teague, but anyway.
Instead, I found a small antique slash secondhand store called Nostalgia Nook on a side street and went inside.
“Hello,” said the cheery-looking older lady behind the register. Her knitting needles never slowed down. “You’re new in town.”
I chuckled and rubbed at the back of my neck. “That’s correct. Hi. I’m Charlie.”
“I’m Loreena, and I run this old place for my son. What can I do for you, Charlie?” She was so disarmingly grandmotherly that I found myself relaxing.
“I saw you have secondhand books?”
“Left side in the back.” She nudged towards said area with her head. “Let me know if you need anything else!”
“Thank you.” I don’t know if I gave off a vibe of “please don’t small talk to me” or if she just wasn’t into chatting more than I was, but I appreciated it anyway.
I ended up finding a few thrillers I hadn’t read yet, and even one gay romance. Something about cowboys and babies, which sounded perfect for an evening of turning my brain off.
Turning around with my books, I came face to face with about five antique mirrors. I hadn’t seen them walking in, because they were against the right-side wall, but now, I couldn’t move. I’d never understood the saying about the deer and the headlights until mirrors became an issue. On a daily basis, I didn’t look at myself much. It made the dysphoria easier to bear, when I didn’t have the opportunity of cataloging everything that was wrong with me.
This, being faced with these mirrors so suddenly? It felt like a jumpscare in a haunted house or a video game.
“Charlie?” The clinking of the knitting needles stopped. Moments later, there was a little old lady by my side, her hand hovering over my arm. “Charlie,” she repeated.
I tore my gaze off the mirrors and met hers. “Huh?”
“There you are. How about you come with me, kiddo,” she said gently. Then she herded me toward the register, not giving me time to get stuck on the mirrors again.
I put the books on the counter and took a deep breath. My brain felt clearer already. Of course, there would be mirrors in an antique store.
“Thank you,” I told her with all the sincerity in me. “I….”
“No need to explain,” she said in that same, grandmotherly tone as she began to ring up the books. “The way you carry yourself reminds me of someone. She didn’t want to be seen, either.”
I nodded, swallowing back tears that were trying to bubble up. I paid for my books and gave her a wavering smile. “I’ll be back when I’m done with these.” I lifted the bag.
“Hold you to it, kiddo.” She picked up her knitting and sat on the stool she’d been perched on.
I smiled and left the store. Despite the mirrors, this shop was clearly a safe space, at least when Loreena was working.