Page 22 of Grave Misgivings
His voice is dark and raspy, with that breathy edge that just oozes sex appeal. But it’s changed, too, over the years. It’s not as crisp or clean sounding as it used to be before he becameGravedigger.
There’s pain, and guilt etched in his voice, now. His pitch rises as he croons on about needing an angel, about needing to find salvation.
I turn the radio dial, because I just can’t stand to listen to his perfect voice filling my speakers right now. I need to get Geo Graves out of my head, and focus on my music.
Because I know at least that’s the one thing that will never hurt me.
I pull up to the Graves’residence, and I text Katy.
Joel, their dad, comes barreling around the side of the house dragging a giant cooler toward the trailer parked in the driveway, and I don’t think twice about shutting the car off, and jumping out to help.
“Let me help you with that, Mr. Graves,” I say, nudging him out the way. Sometimes it pays to be the bigger guy who can throw his weight around.
“Thanks, Zeb,” he says, sucking in a deep breath. “You know how Debbie gets when the trailer isn’t stocked.” He rolls his eyes.
I do know.
At one point, she stocked the trailer with my favorite snacks, too.
I hoist the cooler up, following him to the trailer as he opens the door.
“You know you could have just ridden with us,” he says cautiously.
I sigh, because this isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, and I know it’s not going to be the last.
“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Graves, really I do, but—” I drop the cooler, just as I hear Katy bounding out of the door.
“What are you doing inthere?” she says as she hangs in the doorway.
Her auburn hair is pulled up into a messy bun, adorned with flowers and feathers, and she looks every bit like she’s heading to Coachella instead of the Tucson Flower Festival.
Mr. Graves glances between the two of us, before sighing.
I know at one point when we were teenagers, her parents thought we were going to end up married with a white picket fence, three point five kids, and a dog, because we werealwaystogether. Practically joined at the hip, most of the time.
But even then, I knew I wasn’t interested in girls, and Katy knew, too. Even if I didn’t say anything. Sometimes, I think she knew I was gay before I did, if I’m being honest.
“Being a gentleman, of course,” I tease her.
She rolls her eyes. “A gentleman would buymea coffee.” She sticks her tongue out at me.
“I told you. Starving musician,” I rile her.
Mr. Graves chuckles, and I hear his wife chattering on the phone. I know we all need to get the hell out of dodge if we want to make it to this festival on time.
I hop down from the step as Katy steps back. In the sun, the glitter on her cheeks sparkles.
“Come on.” I nod toward my truck.
As soon as I turn the radio on, I hear Geo singing. Again.
That same song I heard on my way over her,Heaven Sent.
How many times in an hour are they playing this thing?
I move to change the channel, but Katy stops me.
“Leave it,” she says, and I don’t have the heart to argue with her.
