Mae had sat at the edge of her couch, surrounded by half-packed boxes, both grateful for the text and regretful for the past tense of it. Both for Liv and for herself, that she couldn’t magically open the bookstore in time for Liv’s wife. She’d bit her lip, wondering how to best ask follow-up questions.
But Liv had plowed ahead before Mae had to figure it out.
She’s been gone five years now but I still talk to her all the time like a lunatic
Cancer’s a bitch, but we got more time than a lot of folks. You don’t need to say nothin
Did Dell sell to ya yet?
Liv stood next to the three self-checkout stations. There were two regular checkouts next to them, the number1currently lit. A bored-looking teen leaned against the till, checking her fingernails.
The relief Mae felt in her bones heading toward Liv didn’t only have to do with Liv’s support of the store, although that helped. Mostly, it emphasized how much Mae had needed to start her day this way: in the company of another queer person.
At least…another for-sure queer person who didn’t scowl at her.
“Mae Kellerman.” Damn, Liv’s smile truly was beautiful. “You made it.”
“Sure did. I’m here about some coffee.”
“Let me show you the ropes.” Liv waved a hand, leading Mae to a coffee station outside a small office. She leaned against the doorframe as Mae got to work.
“I heard about your flags.”
Mae blinked.Shehad practically forgotten about her flags until just then. “You did?”
Liv smirked. “Turns out some rumors about small towns are true. Word travels fast. Especially when you’re one of the known village queers.”
Yes, Mae was irrevocably glad for Liv’s existence.
She also felt a tad queasy.
“And what was…the tone of the traveling word about my flags?”
Liv threw Mae a knowing glance before shrugging.
“You know. Although I heard it first from Olive Young, who was so excited she was practically vibrating. You’ll meet Olive soon enough. She’s Greyfin Bay’s loudest ally. I don’t think she’s been as excited since Obergefell.”
Mae laughed into the steam of her coffee.
“Oh dang,” she said after her first sip. “That’s good.”
“You’re damn right it’s good.”
Mae turned, leaning against the coffee station to stare out at the rest of the store.
“All right,” she said, blowing on her cup. “Who are the other major players of Greyfin Bay I should know about?”
“Well, hey.” Liv’s grin sparkled in her eyes as she gestured subtly with her chin toward an old man in a well-worn baseball cap, approaching one of the self-checkouts. “This’ll be relevant to you. Brooks, man in the baseball hat? He’s a published author. Been writing full-time for years. But he uses a pen name. One he’s never shared withanyone.We have no idea who he really is.”
Mae’s mouth hung open in both shock and glee, this incredible tidbit and the first glugs of coffee-strong caffeine kicking her brain awake.
She itched to dig out her phone, call together a brunch for her friends to dissect this juicy mystery, which was the exact kind of not-truly-consequential hot goss they thrived on. Theo was their resident master detective; he would somehow be able to google-wormhole his way to answers.
And then Mae remembered she couldn’t call for a gossip brunch.
She lived here now.
Her mouth snapped shut. She murmured a response to Liv that she hoped indicated her intrigue. She’d still share with the group text chain. Gossip dissected via group chat was still a good time.
