Chapter 2 #2
Scott wore a collared shirt under a sweater over less faded jeans, fancier than what he had on earlier, and just right for where they were going. Justin was pleased that Scott had made the effort to dress up a bit, and he hoped it meant the other man saw it as an unofficial date, too.
“How did your other flights go?” Scott asked as they got into Justin’s SUV.
“Pretty typical.” Justin pulled out onto the highway. “Tourists in town trying to get their bearings or just looking for something to do. No lists like yours.”
“Sorry.” Scott looked chagrinned.
“Don’t be,” Justin hurriedly added, hoping that Scott realized he’d been teasing. “I didn’t mean that as a negative. You’ve given me a challenge, and I think the whole idea of researching and writing stuff for websites is interesting.”
“It’s the perfect job for someone who actually enjoyed doing term papers in school,” Scott joked.
“Which I guess makes me the kid with his head in the clouds,” Justin returned with a grin. “Great that we both found a way to do what we love.” Now if I can just do what I love with someone I love.
Scott grinned, and Justin felt his heart speed up. “Thanks for taking pity on me being alone for dinner.”
“No pity involved. I enjoyed our flight, and I thought we’d have a good time together,” Justin said.
“I’m sure we will.”
Justin’s intuition read tentative hopefulness in the other man. He vowed to set Scott at ease and prove he could be trusted.
“So…the fish house,” Justin said as they made the short drive to their dinner destination.
“It’s a local institution. Been around for at least fifty years.
Some people say it started from a seasonal fish fry, and others count from when it turned into a year-round place to eat.
What matters is that the fish is always fresh, the platters are big, and the side dishes are amazing. ”
“Oh yeah?” Scott angled himself as best he could to see Justin as they talked.
“Yeah. They change depending on what’s in season and what they run out of,” Justin continued. “French fries, coleslaw, potato or macaroni salad, carrots, and green beans. Dessert is homemade, usually pudding, cakes, pies, whatever the cooks feel like making.
“You’ll see nearly everyone from town sooner or later,” Justin added. “Long-time visitors, too. On weekends, there’s usually live music. Local bands play there when they aren’t in one of the bars downtown.”
“It sounds like people in Fox Hollow know how to make their own fun,” Scott said.
Justin nodded. “We do. There’s always something going on at the library, book clubs, knitting circle, art classes, free seminars, and movie parties.
The high school sports teams have a rabid following, and so do the band and chorus.
The community college offers all kinds of courses.
There are groups for skiing, ice skating, winter fishing, snowshoeing, snowmobiling, anything people want to do. ”
“And here I thought maybe you were all a bunch of hermits,” Scott joked.
“Oh, we have a few of those,” Justin admitted.
“Different strokes and all that. But most people are almost desperately social over the winter. And that’s not even counting all the special events around holidays: school performances, cooking classes, community theatre, decorating contests, and a lot more.
We’re a creative bunch, that’s for sure. ”
“Albany isn’t quite that social,” Scott said.
“Or at least, you’d have to go looking for those kinds of activities.
I’m sure they happen somewhere, but they’re not always easy to find or open to the public.
Other than my gaming group, it’s been hard to get to know new people since I got out of college.
That might be the one upside of working in an office, a built-in social circle. ”
Justin felt sad that Scott sounded lonely, even as it presented another reason for him to consider relocating to Fox Hollow. “There’s always room for one more here,” Justin told him. “I mean, just sayin’.”
“Be careful, I might take you up on that,” Scott teased.
“And you would be very welcome.” Justin hoped Scott picked up on the personal interest involved. He paused, then trusted his inner sense to mention the next topic.
“You mentioned that big abandoned mine,” Justin said.
“Rumors have it the place is haunted. Have you talked to the people at the Fox Institute? They specialize in the paranormal. We have our share of psychics, mediums, and folks with magic in town and nearby. The Fox Institute people are the go-to resource for solid information about that kind of stuff.”
Scott nodded. “I’d heard that. It would be a good fit and bring an expert perspective. I’ll make an appointment.”
Justin could practically hear Scott trying to figure out why he knew so much about the organization. He breathed in and then took a chance.
“I’m not a shifter.” Justin addressed the question without being asked, trusting that his abilities weren’t leading him astray.
“But I have a freaky good sense for weather changes, and a better than average ability to read people. There are some folks at the Fox Institute who have helped me with my abilities.”
Scott startled, then seemed to relax as the admission likely sank in. “I knew that Fox Hollow was special and that there were other shifters here from Lynn. I’m a coyote shifter. Hope that doesn’t change anything.”
Justin smiled. “Doesn’t change a thing.” He hesitated. “I get the feeling you’ve got something on your mind.”
Scott sighed. “It’s nothing. I got a weird phone call and another couple of hang-ups—different numbers. It might be a prank, but it just feels funny.”
Justin didn’t get details from his abilities, but he had a strong validation of possible danger. “Go with your gut,” he told Scott. “Be careful.”
“I will,” Scott promised. “And I didn’t want to spoil the mood. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Justin wasn’t as certain, but he let it go. “You haven’t. Wait until you see the food!”
When they pulled up to the restaurant, the parking lot was full, and music carried on the wind. The old barn glowed with light inside, and strings of bulbs festooned the rough exterior.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Scott said as they entered. The smell of fried fish, hot food, and baked goods hit like an invisible wall, and he took a deep breath. “If things taste half as good as they smell, you might need to roll me out of here.”
They found a table and placed their orders from a menu board that looked like it had already been updated several times in marker. People filled the tables around them, talking and eating, and a DJ played recent hits from a small stage at one end of the barn.
“Do you have family in Albany?” Justin asked after their server brought sodas. “You said your cousins are here in town.”
“My parents and my brother live near Syracuse,” Scott replied. “Mom and Dad have an environmental consulting company. My brother Bobby is a landscape designer. I stuck around Albany because that’s where I went to college and got my first job. We get together for the holidays.”
“My parents are retired, and they moved south,” Justin replied.
“Since I took over the seaplane company, my brother and sister went off to chase their own dreams. My brother is a teacher, and my sister is a marketing consultant. We also try to do the family thing at holidays, depending on the weather.”
Despite no longer living nearby, Justin and his siblings stayed in close contact online. It sounded like Scott’s family was more independent, and he remembered that coyotes sometimes lived in family groups but didn’t form packs like wolves.
The server brought heaping plates of fried fish and all the trimmings.
“Where do you get your ideas for the articles you write?” Justin asked.
“Everywhere,” Scott replied. “Sometimes an editor I’ve worked with before will assign me topics, which is great. Most of the time, I go looking for subjects that interest me. It helps to be stubborn, but I’m a Scorpio, so that isn’t a problem.”
Scorpio and Taurus are very compatible signs. It’s no guarantee, but it’s a good omen, Justin thought.
“I’m a Taurus, so I know something about being stubborn.” Justin watched for a response. Scott grinned.
“Good to know. Equally matched,” Scott joked, but Justin thought he picked up a quiet hopefulness beneath the banter.
Maybe he’s looking for the right someone too. And that zing. If we’re really fated mates…
“What do you do for fun?” Justin asked, keeping the conversation going.
Scott shrugged. “I’m not very exciting. I read and watch TV like everyone else. Crime dramas and paranormal mysteries, where the people with special abilities are the good guys.”
Justin saw the connection and appeal. “I really like those too. My mom always joked that I must have been a detective in another life.” Given his psychic abilities, that wasn’t as far-fetched as it might have seemed.
“On weekends, I get out of the city and go to the different parks nearby to walk in the woods,” Scott added. “It clears my head, and I think through the research and what I’m writing. I get my best ideas out there.”
What went unsaid, Justin noted, was that Scott no doubt did at least some of that walking in his other form.
“I have my role-playing game group, and we meet one night a week, and sometimes more over the holidays or if we have an intense campaign that didn’t get finished.” Scott blushed. “I know that sounds desperately nerdy.”
“Nerdy is my language,” Justin assured him. “I play plenty of online games, and some of those have remote teams that have been together for a long time. I’ve got a group of friends that get together regularly to game, and I’m also a volunteer firefighter.”
“That’s pretty cool,” Scott replied. “And dangerous.”
Justin nodded. “That’s where having some psychic warning comes in handy, except once when I didn’t pay attention fast enough and got hurt. It helps that a lot of my friends are also volunteers.”