Page 10 of Small City Heart
“That’s okay. I was several grades below you. Rachel Michaels. I’m married to Suzy.”
He hadn’t known Suzy was queer or married. He obviously needed to start bugging his mom about Small City gossip. “That’s awesome. How long have you two been married?”
“Less than a year.”
“Well, congratulations. What’s your maiden name? I feel like I should remember.”
“Coin.”
He recognized her now. She’d transitioned.
“We were in yearbook together!”
“Yes! You look different than in high school,” she said. “Cuter.”
He laughed. “I’d hope so.”
They were both laughing when Suzy and Charlie reappeared. Suzy gave Patrick another hug after plopping a pitcher of Blue Moon on the table and kissing her wife.
“Tell me all about your life, Pattie. I know you’re selling your art, but do you have another job? Anything else you’re doing?” Suzy said.
Patrick tried not to clench his jaw. “I’m between jobs at the moment.” That wasn’t strictly true. He was using up his last vacation days before putting in his resignation when he returned. “I was managing an art gallery in Chicago, but it wasn’t a good environment for me. I have two photography businesses: the photos I sell under my name, and I occasionally shoot weddings under Precious Pearl Photography.”
“Wedding photography? Really?” Charlie said, clearly surprised.
“Yeah. For about six years. It’s not my main squeeze, but it helps pay the bills.”
“Your mom’s never mentioned that,” Charlie said.
“It’s my least active venture. I do a handful of weddings a year, normally referrals from friends. Weddings can be fun.”
“Wish you lived here,” Suzy said. “We had to hire a photographer from Wichita for our wedding. No one nearby does it as more than a hobby, and it would have been nice to know the photographer was queer-friendly without having to go digging for the info.”
Warmth and a weird longing hit him in the chest. He would have loved to have shot their wedding.
The conversation quickly moved on, and over time, a lot of his former classmates stopped by the table, mostly to talk to Charlie. No one seemed surprised that Charlie had parked himself at what was obviously the rainbow table, but Patrick was surprised by Charlie’s ease.
A couple of people said hello to Patrick and asked him how Chicago was, which he lied about. They then told him about their kids or their jobs or their illnesses. After an hour, Patrick realized he was having fun.
Some things were exactly as he expected—the rude girl he’d avoided in high school tried to sell him on a diet pill pyramid scheme, a number of guys acted like he was invisible, and everyone still wanted to be Charlie North’s best friend.
But no one was overtly rude to Patrick. He also wasn’t the only person who’d run away and made a new life outside of Small City. The salutatorian of the class—a girl that had been all prim, proper, and, honestly, a little judgy in high school—now had a buzz cut, lots of visible tattoos, and was a huge proponent of polyamory. The preacher’s son was a speechwriter for a prominent California Democrat and wasn’t on speaking terms with his dad.
Then there was Charlie.
He was this new pod person, someone who was both the same and completely different than the boy Patrick remembered from high school. And why the hell had he attached himself to Patrick? They weren’t friends. Never had been. Sure, there had been weird flirting at the diner yesterday, but this was too much.
When Charlie was showing off a tattoo on his back to the guys from the football team—two crossed axes with a firefighter’s helmet in front and a pride flag behind—Patrick had gotten a peek at Charlie’s torso. The man was too attractive. Patrick decided he needed a breather.
He snuck into a dark corner by the back windows with a fresh Arnold Palmer and tried not to think about Charlie’s glorious abs or the way they’d taste if he ran his tongue all over them.
Ten minutes later, a light illuminated the stage and Charlie jogged into the spotlight; it gilded his high cheekbones, making him glow.
“Hi everyone! Thank you all for coming. We have a couple of awards to give out, then the slideshow, and the pool tournament. Let’s start with the awards. If you didn’t sign in when you first arrived, well then too bad. You missed your chance to enter. The Longest Distance Traveled Award goes to …” Patrick’s heart jumped into his throat. If Charlie called his name, he was not walking up there. “Vickie Pearson! All the way from Maine. Thank you, Vickie.”
Charlie handed out several awards, all silly things, like Most Pets, Newest Newlywed, and Most Tattoos. Next came the slideshow. He could see the projector screen from here, and he doubted there would be anything for which he’d want to get any closer.
The slideshow began with pictures from elementary school accompanied by music of the time. There were some class pictures where he caught sight of his towhead, but none of him up close. There weren’t any photos of him in middle school, but when the high school portion began, he jolted.
