Page 18 of Mother Parker
“So, where is everyone?” I asked and waved my hands around to indicate how empty my shop was.
“They’ll come. But you, my friend, need a break. You haven’t had one in forever, and it’s starting to show,” he said and pointed at my eyes.
“What. The. Fuck! Carson! You’re such a dick.” I gasped and immediately searched for a reflective surface. I found one beside the counter and made sure to stretch my cheeks and eyes every which way to ensure it was just my friend being a dick and not the truth.
Okay, my eyes were a bit puffy, but other than that, I looked great.
“I didn’t mean physically!” he said when I glared his way. “I meant you act tired. Take a break. Take it from a guy who grew up in this business: don’t let it consume you, or one day you’ll wake up to be thirty-eight and realize life has passed you by.”
Any frustration I may have felt fizzled out when I realized he was talking from personal experience.
“Hey! You’re thirty-eight. It doesn’t mean you’re old.”
His eyes popped and his jaw dropped.
“You little shit! I didn’t say I’m old.”
The laugh erupted before I could stop it, and I had to fight to contain it under the critical eye of my friend-slash-ex-boss.
“But you’re acting it,” I told him.
His reply was just a shrug.
“And please! Life isn’t passing you by. You’re working like a dog, is all.”
“Well, right back at ya, Kim!”
“Touché,” I said and sighed. “We’re both workaholics.”
Carson shrugged again.
“We need to get a life.”
“Hey!” he complained.
I raised an eyebrow, and he contorted his face.
“Yeah. I guess,” he admitted. “I mean, forget about me. I’m undateable, but you? You should be working yourself around all the Mayberry men.”
“I’m not a slut!”
“No. You’re a nun. When was the last time you went out on a date? Or had a one-night-stand even?”
“You’re one to talk. Why are you ‘undateable?’ Is it because of those missing gray cells in your brain?”
Carson pierced me with his gaze.
“Maybe. Whatever. We’re not talking about me now. We’re talking about you. And look at you! Who wouldn’t want you? You’re a young, gorgeous, self-made man.”
I rolled my eyes and turned away from him, heading for the table with all the ready-made bubble teas. I grabbed the honeydew green tea with apple-flavored popping boba.
It was as refreshing as it sounded, naturally. I was hoping some fruitier flavors would lure the white people of Mayberry Holm into trying my drinks, and I’d eventually win them over with the stronger tea flavors.
Yeah, I was trying to distract myself from Carson’s compliments. Everyone thought it was so easy being me, but they couldn’t take my body for a ride to see the truth.
I was the only Korean gay guy on this island, and the limited gay population of Mayberry Holm knew it. If they hadn’t already rejected me, they were bound to. The white guys stuck with the white guys, the black guys stuck with the black guys, and those willing to talk to me only wanted to do so out of some weird Asian fetish.
Online dating hadn’t proved any easier. If the guys didn’t send a gallery of dick pics or sphincter shots, they weren’t interested in anything more meaningful than a night—or several—in the sack.
