So he worked for a year in Dallas as a bartender at a club on Greenville Avenue, lived in a cheap studio apartment, and stashed away as much cash as possible. He hoped to find an affordable place to set up shop. But when he went looking, he was dismayed. He wanted to stay in Dallas, live in a city with thriving gay bars and nightlife, but he had to cast his net wider.
The drab suburbs didn’t appeal to him, but when he went just a few hours east, he landed in the lush piney woods andwas enchanted. The moment he laid eyes on the craftsman-style home for just $5,000, he was sold.
His long-term goal is to get to San Francisco. And he’s determined to make that happen, to keep his overhead low, funnel as much of his earnings into savings as he can bear.
But that doesn’t mean that this town doesn’t get to him sometimes, doesn’t drive him bonkers. There actually used to be a lone gay bar here on the outskirts called the Rainbow Room, but there were too many assaults in the parking lot, too many closet-case rednecks making it a sport to beat the hell out of the handful of gay guys brave enough to patronize the place.
That was before Jackson’s time here. So now there’sreallyno place to find a potential boyfriend. He goes back to Dallas as much as he can, crashing on friends’ sofas over the weekend, but for now, he’s stuck here.
It’s not all bad. Heloveshis home, loves his yard. Has trained a row of wild muscadines that grow along his back fence into a thriving orchard. Not that he makes wine with them, not yet anyway. Just preserves. But he adores puttering around his back patio, watering his potted plants, taking his coffee out there in the early mornings with a book, sitting in the shade of the giant magnolia, whose blossoms are so fragrant, they smell like gardenias.
Charleigh’s laugh barks through the air. He looks up to see that she’s trapped talking to someone, raising her eyebrows at Jackson as if to say,Save me?
She looks impeccable; nothing new there. Hair in a sleekponytail underneath a broad sun hat. Bronzed shoulders bare in her strapless jumpsuit. She must’ve taken her sweet time getting ready.
Jackson raises his hand in a wave, which gives Charleigh all the ammo she needs to launch herself away from the woman.
“Hiiii!” she trills.
“Hey!” He stands to hug her. “So, what’s the big emergency?”
Half of Jackson’s daiquiri is now gone; he’s actually buzzed enough to want to hear the dirt.
But Charleigh’s eyes scramble for the waitress. She flicks her hand up in the air until the server comes over.
“What are you having?”
“One of these”—Charleigh motions to Jackson’s drink—“and another for him. Also some mozzarella sticks. That sound good?” she asks Jackson.
He nods.
She grabs his drink, sucks in a large sip through the straw. “Sorry, Ineedthis. Can I have the rest? Pretty please?”
Jackson grins at his friend. “By all means, my lady.”
“Okay, so I went out to see the Swifts. Like I told you last night, all the girls are already using the wife’s potions or whatever, so I had to see for myself, and for Nellie. The new girl, Jane, wasn’t there. She was on herhorse, if you can imagine it, but when I say that family isweird, I’m talking total freak show. Plus, they’re super religious, liketooreligious if you know what I mean.”
Nobody can skewer like Charleigh Andersen, and Jacksonwould be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the gossip. What the hell else is he supposed to do for entertainment in this godforsaken, small-minded town?
The waitress places the basket of fried cheese between them, sets down their drinks.
“How so?” he asks.
“The womanbreastfedin front of me!” Charleigh nearly shouted, causing all heads to swivel in their direction.
“Yikes. Really?” Jackson has his act of mock horror down to an art. “Like, covered with a blanket in front of you or—”
“No! She just flopped her big knocker out for all to see, smashed her daughter’s face into it!”
“Gross! I mean, boobs are already gross but yuck.” He dipped a mozzarella stick into the ramekin of marinara, then took a bite.
“That’s not even thegrosspart,” Charleigh hissed, nearly spraying him with daiquiri. “She chewed up a strawberry, spit it into a bowl, then spoon-fed her daughter the mix!”
“Ewwww! Maybe don’t tell me this while we’re drinking frozen strawberry daiquiris?”
Charleigh cackled, took a criminally long pull of her own drink. “So, I can see why Nellie already can’t stand the daughter. Like, that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it? That woman. Abigail’s her name. There’s something about her that irritates. She just has this…audacityabout her. Like whyyyy?” Charleigh’s eyes are swimming with booze. “She literally has nothing. Lives on a farm. Wears homemade dresses. Is okay-looking but nothinggreat. Of course, I didn’t buy a thing. And I really can’t see why the others are already so up on her.”
Bingo.Thisis what’s actually bothering Charleigh, Jackson thinks, but keeps it to himself. The fact that her friends are into this woman.
