Page 8 of Perfect Blend

I laughed. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. How about I pick you up from the B&B at six?”

“Can’t wait.”

That gave me a few hours to find my cool. Hopefully, GPS could track it down because I sure as hell didn’t know where to locate it.

CHAPTER2

MIKEY

JavaJackOfAllTrades: I know you’re MIA, but I had to pop in and show you what I saw today! This is the kind of Pride energy I’m here for. [photo of a pug wearing a unicorn onesie with a rainbow horn]

Bricker: Oh my god, that is the cutest fucking dog I’ve ever seen. Please tell me it made the snort-snuffle sound.

JavaJackOfAllTrades: It certainly did. [video of pug]

Bricker: [GIF of Bette Midler singing with text reading “Did you ever know that you’re my hero?”]

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I tossedshirt reject number two over the creepy dolls on top of the dresser and pulled on lucky number three. I darted another look back at the dolls to make sure their wandering eyes were covered. TheDollia—my god—Springs Bed and Breakfast was the only lodging in town. I wanted to be in the middle of the action to make my job easier this week, so I had to put up with the nightmarish environment. Sticking close to the action instead of getting a room at a respectable chain hotel nearby had nothing to do with spending more time with Dave.

I laughed at myself as I checked the third shirt option in the mirror. The black V-neck would work under my beige jacket. Flattering without looking like I was trying too hard. Obviously, I was trying too hard, but that didn’t mean I wanted to look like it. A half-hour in Dave’s presence had made butterflies move into my gut, bringing their extended families along.Now I wanted to snap my fingers to get a brand-new wardrobe.

I spritzed my cologne in the air and stepped through it. I couldn’t help being intrigued by how easily Dave and I had clicked while chatting the past few weeks. Would it translate to hanging out in person? Signs pointed to yes after the visit to his coffee shop this afternoon.

Truth be told, I hadn’t expected him to reply when I’d reached out about the Pride festival. We’d been Facebook friends since college but had never really interacted, so I wasn’t sure how he would respond to me cold-messaging him. Lucky for me, he’d been helpful, enthusiastic, and easy to talk to, which shouldn’t have surprised me. One thing I remembered about him from high school was how he’d always offered a helping hand. There was that one kid who broke his leg skiing, and Dave offered to carry his stuff when they had back-to-back classes together. He was a nice guy, and those dimples sure didn’t hurt.

I hadn’t clicked with someone so well since I started talking online with Jack about a year ago in the Discord for divorced queer folks. I really liked Jack and was excited to chat with him every day. He was the first person I thought of when I woke up and usually my last thought before sleep. Despite how much of my time, energy, and brain space he consumed, I wanted something in the real world.

Jack didn’t want to change the anonymity rules—not that I’d ever asked him to—even though most days it felt like he knew everything personal about me except for my a/s/l. Somehow, he’d become my best friend. I struggled each day with wanting to give him my phone number or ask what time zone he was in. Despite how difficult it was, I would continue to respect his wishes if it meant keeping him in my life.

I pulled on my jacket. There was something about talking to Dave that I liked too. We’d chatted about plenty of light topics beyond gathering background for my story. As my week in Dahlia Springs had approached, I’d been increasingly excited and hopeful that we’d click in person. I wanted to build a real friendship with him.

If we lived closer to each other, I might consider trying for more if the week went well. I didn’t even allow myself to entertain that thought because I was determined to score the promotion to senior writer, and word on the street was that it might require a move to Chicago. Why even tempt myself with the possibility of Dave when I might relocate soon anyway?

I hadn’t maintained contact with many people from high school beyond occasionally liking social media posts, but I already knew I wanted to keep in touch with Dave after this week. I was curious how he ended up in Dahlia Springs instead of living in Hillsboro, where we’d grown up. I wanted to know if he was still the same shy guy he used to be—the one who had quietly laughed when I made jokes in class. I remembered I had liked to make him smile. Hell, I might’ve been picking up some sort of vibe and never realized it. I hadn’t figured out I was gay until college.

I glanced at my smartwatch and smiled. Time to head outside and meet Dave. I eyed the giant rainbow doily covering the top half of the door and reached for the knob. I jumped back when I found the innkeeper standing there in head-to-toe rainbow tie-dyed clothes.

Her face had deep-set wrinkles like she’d spent a lifetime in the sun. Gray roots contrasted against the dark dye on the rest of her shoulder-length hair. The fake rainbow eyelashes were something else. “Settling in well?”

I didn’t know how long she’d been standing there and, frankly, didn’t want to know.It had been nearly impossible to end the conversation with her after my check-in had turned into a tour, then a monologue about the history of Dahlia Springs.

“I am, thanks.”

“Do you want to see my Pride teddy bear collection? I like to show it to all the guests this time of year. I’ve been collecting them for nearly a decade.”

“Oh, wow. That, um, that sounds interesting, but I’m meeting someone. Maybe later?”

The journalist in me knew I should interview her for my story because she was a character with a lot of knowledge about the town, but I knew I’d need to dedicate a hefty chunk of time for that conversation. Instead of setting something up, I rushed downstairs. Work didn’t officially start until tomorrow, and I wanted to play first.

Rainbow decals in all shapes and sizes filled the living room bay window. I avoided making eye contact with a set of dolls dressed like the Village People as I made my way out the front door. The front yard had at least a dozen inflatables of rainbows, unicorns, and a creepy group of children that looked only a little “It’s a Small World”and a bit too muchLord of the Flies. I didn’t even know inflatables were a thing outside of December. I couldn’t imagine the place at Christmas.

Dave was already idling in front of the house. I waved and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Thanks for rescuing me.”

The dimples under his beard deepened with his smile. He wore a plaid shirt in more of a green color palette than the blueish one he’d worn earlier.

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