Page 3 of Starfish and Coffee
“She’s a communist.” Life hadn’t been that kind to Daryl. A good forty pounds heavier than he had been in high school, he still had the look of a bully, with buzzed blond hair and beady brown eyes. Dressed Florida casual in a T-shirt and shorts, he was a good ol’ hometown boy if ever there was one. He gave Alex a narrow-eyed look of someone trying his hardest to intimidate. “You should fire her.”
“He can’t fire her, asshole.” Brandon Carver rolled his eyes, making it obvious he didn’t share Daryl’s negative opinions of Holly. “He’s been fucking her since high school. They’re practically married.”
Alex just raised his eyebrows instead of verbally agreeing to that assessment.
“Sheisa communist,” George Harden agreed. Daryl’s longtime drinking buddy, the two of them shared the common goal of staying single and drunk for as long as possible, neither of which was all that difficult for them. “Her car’s got all those bullshit bumper stickers on it. Recycling—”
Alex snorted. “What the fuck is wrong with recycling?”
“Antiwar stickers.”
“War sucks,” Alex argued. “No one likes war.”
“She doesn’t support our troops.”
“Yes, she does. She sends four care packages a week to our troops. What are you doing to support them, Georgie?”
“She’s got a rainbow sticker in the window.” Daryl gave him a pointed look. “That means she’s a lesbian, Alex. For all you know, she’s been living a secret life all this time. That’s why she’s all fired up over that new cook of yours—she’s protecting her own.”
“A lesbian?” Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself coming up with that theory.”
“All those liberal women are lesbians.”
“God, could you two be any more predictably redneck.” Alex was so tired of their bullshit. “She’s not a lesbian. She’s a champion of causes, all causes. You know that.”
“She told me to suck it. She’s a shitty manager.”
“She’s an awesome manager,” Alex argued, forcing a smile. “But she shouldn’t have told you to suck it, and I apologize. You’ve been pissing her off since kindergarten, Daryl. I think you do it on purpose because you secretly enjoy her scratching your eyes out.”
“He does.” Brandon laughed and reached over, punching Alex’s arm. “When you gonna bust out of this restaurant and come fishing with us for a day or two?”
“Probably never.” Alex rested his chin in his hand as he sighed longingly, craving several days of deep-sea fishing. He missed the days of feeling the sun shining on his bare back for hours and having nothing to do but fish and drink beer. “Customers don’t respond well to GONE FISHING signs around here.”
“Sure they do.” George scowled at Alex. “You never hang out anymore. You close at four. At least stop by the bar for a drink. You’d be surprised who you run into when you actually do something besides fuck Holly. I saw your ol’ buddy Matt last night.”
Alex couldn’t hide the wide-eyed look of shock he gave George. “Matt’s in town?”
“Yeah, man. You didn’t know that?” Brandon glanced to everyone at the table before looking at Alex in confusion. “He was asking about you. Come out tonight, you’ll probably run into him.”
Alex wanted to question them, to ask for every detail of what exactly Matt wanted to know about him, and more so, what they’d told him. He also wanted to know what he looked like. If six years later he was still Adonis beautiful or if life had beaten him up a little. Alex found he really didn’t care if Matt’s broad, muscular body had gotten thick the way Daryl’s had. Once upon a time Alex’s favorite daydream was the two of them growing old, bald, and doughy together.
He swallowed hard, forcing the stiffness out of his shoulders as he shrugged. “Got inventory for the next few days. How long’s he in town?”
“He said he’d be here for a few weeks visiting his mama. Can’t blame him. How long’s it been since he’s been home?”
“Six years,” Alex responded without thinking. “Maybe I’ll make it out,” he lied, knowing his eyes had to be haunted. He stood and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I gotta get back to work. I’ll have Darleen bring out a basket of starfish—on the house.”
“Thanks, Alex!” Brandon beamed. “We gotta have Daryl piss your girl off more often.”
Alex shrugged, uncaring about Daryl and Holly’s battle of wills that had gotten old around the third grade. He tried to focus on the kitchen that was probably swamped with orders. Instead he thought of Matt and hated himself for secretly hoping to see him again.
He turned around and headed back inside. His mind was off to a place when youth and enthusiasm reigned supreme. Days when he thought with his dick and heart instead of his brain, never realizing how badly he would spend the rest of his life suffering for it.
Holly ran up and met him at the door while he was still lost in his memories. “Give ’em some starfish, Holly.”
“Alex.” Holly’s eyes were wide and stunned as she pulled him to the side of the dining room. To others it would look like she was hugging him, playing the affectionate girlfriend as she wrapped her arms around his back. Her touch comforted as she whispered in his ear, “Matt’s here.”
He stiffened in her arms, too stunned to appreciate that he had been at least a little prepared for this. He looked over Holly’s shoulder, finding Matt easily in the crowd of people standing at the counter. Alex sucked in a sharp gasp, feeling a shiver of white-hot desire roll down his spine. Fate was officially a cruel bitch, because Matt didn’t look as good as Alex remembered: he looked better.
