The Tin Box (13 page)

Bill would have been proud of him, he thought.

He grinned as he zoomed by the general store. Four cars were parked in the lot; Colby must be busy.

He stopped at the produce stand to pick up some strawberries, mushrooms, lettuce, and peas. “Cherries’ll be in soon,” said Colby’s cousin. She was in her forties and had the same blue eyes as he did. “Should have the first batch in a week or so. That’s early, but it’s been a warm spring.”

“Cherries sound good.”

“They’re always my favorites, and they have a short season compared to a lot of the other fruits. Colby loves them too. Buys ’em by the bucket. When he was a little boy he once ate enough of ’em to make himself sick, but the next day he was ready for more.”

“Oh,” William said, because he had no other response. He noticed she also had Colby’s dimples.

“I’m Missy, by the way. Colby’s been telling us all about you. Says you’re some kinda genius.”

William blinked at her. It hadn’t occurred to him that Colby might have discussed him with his relatives. “I’m… I’m just a grad student.”

“Well, Colby thinks you walk on water. It’s a good thing. That boy’s been alone too long.”

“We’re just friends!” William blurted.

She gave a deep, throaty laugh. “I didn’t mean to be buildin’ you two a picket fence. Didn’t even know you swing his way. I only meant the boy needs friends. There’s hardly anyone around here his age, and the ones that did stick around have jobs and kids. Plus Colby puts in pretty long hours down at the store.”

“He’s… he’s a really nice guy. I’m glad to have him as a friend.”

“Has a heart of gold, that boy. He’s a good ’un. You couldn’t do much better.” And she gave him a wink.

William wasn’t sure whether to be mortified or relieved that he’d apparently outed himself to Colby’s cousin—and by extension, most probably, the entire populace of Jelley’s Valley. He gave her a wan smile as she rang up his produce, and then he escaped back to his car.

But his good mood stayed. It wasn’t as if Colby’s cousin had judged him badly for being gay, and the knowledge that Colby had been praising him conjured a warm feeling.

As always, much of the traffic on the highway moved fast enough to unnerve him, and he was relieved when he reached his destination. Bright-yellow banners were everywhere. Small ones hung from signposts and a large one stretched across the main street, all announcing the Mariposa Butterfly Festival the following weekend. He wasn’t sure what a butterfly festival entailed, but he made a mental note to avoid the town while the festival was going on. He’d never much enjoyed crowds.

Lunch at the Java Joint was tasty, but not nearly as much fun without Colby. While he ate, he leafed through a visitors’ guide to the region and eavesdropped on the geriatric couple at the next table, who were arguing over whether to replace their water heater or try to get it repaired.

Frank’s Grab’em was busy today. In one aisle, a toddler was having a complete and noisy meltdown, and someone in another aisle accidentally dropped a bottle of wine, which created a spectacular mess. In several places, clots of shoppers had paused to gossip. William piloted his cart around the various obstacles. He found a small kettle grill and a bag of charcoal, plus a cheap set of barbecue tools he thought would suffice. He picked up a bunch of food he’d never find at Colby’s store, some beer, and with a grin, a second pair of shorts. They were identical to the first except for being green khaki instead of beige khaki. He even bought a pair of leather sandals, although he didn’t go so far as to purchase flip-flops. On impulse, he hefted a set of hand weights into the cart.

Back in JV, there were again several cars in the store lot, plus a cluster of bicycles leaning against the side of the building. William almost chickened out and drove straight home, but he found the car slowing and turning, and then his legs were taking him inside.

As soon as William entered, Colby lifted his gaze from the upright freezer, where he seemed to be helping a man and a young child reach a decision about ice cream. He was already smiling, but his face brightened several watts when he saw William. “Hey! Will!”

“Hi, Colby.”

“I set aside a couple of books for you, like I promised. They’re in a bag behind the counter if you want to grab them.”

It felt a little weird to go behind the counter, as if William were trespassing. But Colby was now busy finding sunscreen for a man in bike shorts—a man who really shouldn’t be wearing something as tight as bike shorts, William observed uncharitably—so William ducked down and found the plastic bag. He didn’t open it to see which volumes Colby had chosen for him.

“Thanks!” he called from near the door, holding the bag aloft. And then, before he lost courage, he added, “Want to come over for dinner tonight when you’re done here? I’m thinking of grilling.”

“You want another lesson already?” Colby yelled back.

William blushed, even though none of the customers could have known what they were talking about. Maybe they thought Colby was teaching him to play the piano or something. “Not tonight. Just… company.”

If he’d thought Colby’s smile was bright before, he was wrong. This one could be seen from space. “Eight?” asked Colby.

“Perfect.”

W
ILLIAM
was able to get only a little work completed that afternoon. He spent the rest of the time bustling around with nervous energy, rearranging papers and cleaning things that weren’t dirty. He finally gave up even on that. He slipped on a ratty pair of sweatpants and an equally ratty tee, slathered sunscreen on any bits of exposed skin, and went for a run around the grounds.

He didn’t often jog, and he was out of breath distressingly soon. He ought to have a better exercise regimen. Not just cardio, but his new weights too. He’d have to work incredibly hard to be as sleekly muscled as Colby, but anything would be an improvement over his current boniness.

When he was too sweaty and exhausted to continue, he returned indoors to shower. He put on his new shorts and the gray T-shirt. And then he was faced with a dilemma: where to put the grill. The building’s exits were all far from his apartment, and grilling inside was decidedly not a great idea. After a little thought, he ended up dragging one of the wooden chairs to a window, which allowed him to climb out and clamber to the ground. He found a big chunk of concrete among some weeds, which with considerable huffing and puffing, he maneuvered under the window to serve as a step. Not exactly elegant, but the hospital had clearly not been built with barbecuing in mind.

He made a salad using the veggies he’d bought at the produce stand that morning, and he checked to make sure the beers were cold. Then he pretended to read one of the books Colby had loaned him—this one involving sexy vampires—but none of the words sank in.

His phone rang at a quarter to eight, just after he’d finished lighting the grill. “I’m early,” Colby said breathlessly. “Is that okay?”

“Sure. I’ll come let you in.” William jogged down the hallway, out of the building, and up to the gate.

Tonight Colby was wearing biking gear, which looked a hell of a lot better on him than it had on the man in the store. Even in the moonlit darkness outside, the Lycra left no doubt about Colby’s fit physique. William tried not to stare.

“I’m not cooking frozen Thai,” he explained as they walked to the main building. “I hope that’s okay. I’m grilling some chicken, which is pretty much the only cooking I’m really good at. But the marinade is really great and I made a nice salad and I think it’ll be okay.”

Colby chuckled at his babbling. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m glad you invited me. I was a little scared I’d frightened you away yesterday. You know, maybe I went too far.”

“You didn’t,” William said quietly.

They were both quiet for a moment, although Colby’s bike wheels made little hissing noises on the pavement. “I’m sorry,” Colby finally said.

“For what?”

“That shit I said a while back about you having a stick up your ass. It wasn’t very nice. I didn’t know…. Well, that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have judged you.”

William waited as Colby leaned the bike against the building, and then they both went inside. The interior was dark, lit only by the moonlight that shone through the windows. But William was confident of the way by now and ignored the switch for the overhead lights.

“You were right. I did have a stick up my ass. Still do. Look up ‘repressed’ in the dictionary and you’ll probably see my picture.”

“No way. I mean… okay. You’re still a little uptight. But you’re working on it, Will, and that takes a lot of balls. A lot of guys wouldn’t even try.”

William sighed. “A lot of guys wouldn’t have spent half their life pretending to be something they’re not.” He was thinking of Bill, of course. Stubborn, loyal, loving Bill.

William’s apartment was homey and cheerful with the lamps lit and country music playing softly on an old radio he’d found inside a kitchen cabinet. Colby grabbed William’s forearm and looked up at him earnestly.

“There’s always people who think they have the right to decide who other people are supposed to be. When I was growing up in JV, some folks told me I should tone down. Be more butch. And then I moved to San Francisco and they made fun of me for being a hick. And… I had fun for a while. But then I started feeling like maybe I wanted to settle down. You know, True Loooove.” He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically. “And there were people who didn’t like that either. This one friend from school, she gave me this big lecture on how I was caving in to heteronormative values. You’d have thought I was personally undermining every improvement in gay rights since Stonewall.”

“Gay people aren’t supposed to settle down?”

“Gay people are supposed to do whatever the fuck feels right to them, just like straight people! If you wanna get married and have kids, great. If you wanna screw everything on two legs, just make sure you’re safe. If you wanna wear a pink tutu, vote Republican, and drive around in a Mack truck, that’s your own damn business!” His voice had risen, but now he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I get carried away.”

“That’s all right.”

“Jeez, you don’t vote Republican, do you?”

William laughed at the look of horror on his friend’s face. “Nope. My parents do.”

“Yeah, well that’s a given. Anyway, my point is you need to be yourself. You’re not me, Will. If listening to Beethoven and wearing ties is who William Lyon is, then I shouldn’t be telling you any different.”

“What if I don’t know who I am?” Wow, that came out sounding really forlorn and pathetic.

Colby reached up and stroked his cheek. “Then I guess now you have the chance to find out.” He let his hand drop. “We’re friends, Will. I like you a lot. So, you know… don’t be afraid I’m gonna dump you if you don’t turn out exactly like I want.”

William smiled at him. His skin tingled from Colby’s touch. “Thank you.”

“God, and here I am preaching at you, as if you haven’t had enough of that already. Sorry.”

“I don’t mind. You’re better than Pastor Reynolds any day.”

“I bet Pastor Reynolds didn’t have dimples and an ass like this.” Colby waggled the body part in question before slapping William on the arm. “I’m starved. Didn’t you promise to feed me?”

Colby laughed when he saw the setup William had rigged for accessing the grill. Peering out the window, Colby said, “I don’t think I’d be able to get back inside without a boost. How about if I stay inside and hand you things?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

William climbed out the window, jumping a little when Colby gave his butt a gratuitous pat. He checked on the grill and saw that the coals were ready. “There’s a baggie full of chicken in the fridge. Could you get it for me?”

Colby disappeared, then reappeared a few seconds later and leaned out the window with the food in his hand. William arranged the chicken on the wire rack as Colby watched. “You sure you don’t want to come out?” William asked.

“No, I’m good. Man, I hate being short.”

“How tall are you?”

“Five ten. No, okay, that’s a lie. Five seven.” He sighed. “And you’re what? Six two?”

“Six three.”

“God. I am
so
jealous.”

William looked down at his long skinny legs and knobby knees. He’d always been tall and thin, and he’d hit his growth spurt early. The kids at school used to call him stork or string bean or, in a play on his last name, Cowardly Scarecrow Lyon. Which didn’t even make any sense, but still used to piss him off. He looked back at Colby. “Why would you be jealous of
this
?”

“Because extra inches are always a good thing, honey,” Colby said with a wink. Then he rolled his eyes. “Jeez. You are completely unaware of your geeky charm, aren’t you?”

“Geeky charm?”

“Totally.”

William tried to hide his embarrassment by fussing with the chicken. It was already smelling good. “You want a beer?” he called over his shoulder. “They’re in the fridge too.”

“Sure. You?”

William nodded. Colby must have found the bottle opener, because when he passed the bottle out the window, it was uncapped. “You didn’t buy these at my store.”

“Um, no. Sorry. You don’t carry—”

“Anything but pisswater. I know. Another bone of contention with Grandpa. I swear, the man’s culinary tastes are frozen in 1972.”

“My parents don’t drink at all.”

“Of
course
they don’t.”

William poked at the chicken breasts before turning them. A jay landed on a nearby branch. Maybe it was the same one from yesterday. Maybe it was planning some sort of avian revenge now that it had caught him cooking a bird. A moment later, a yellow-and-black butterfly flitted by, reminding him of the signs he’d seen in Mariposa. “What’s the deal with the Butterfly Festival?”

“Oh, that. It’s basically a street fair with bugs. And way less gratuitous nudity than I like. There’s a parade, booths, music… stuff like that. Why? Were you thinking of going?”

William shuddered. “No. I was just curious.”

“Cowboy Day is more fun anyway.”