Toby nearly chokes on his food, his face immediately turning red. “Oh, no, uh, that’s okay,” he stammers once he’s managed to swallow without dying.
Andrew laughs at him, and I’m not sure what that’s about.
Before I can ask anything, we all get distracted by Mitch Alderson marching into the diner and yelling out to Travis as he approaches the counter. “Hey, man, how fast can you make me a tuna melt? I left Delilah outside.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever timed it,” Travis says dryly, punching the order into the computer.
Turning my head to peek out the window, I’m hoping not to find a small child standing alone outside. Instead, I see something far more alarming. There’s a chicken on the sidewalk, with a harness around its feathery orange body and a leash tied to a lamppost.
“Um, what the heck is that?” I whisper to Andrew.
Toby laughs. “You’ve never met Delilah?”
“You moved away before Mitch got her,” Andrew explains. Not that I’d really call that an appropriate explanation for a chicken on a leash, but okay.
As I watch, a woman walking by outside pauses and bends down to pat Delilah on the head before continuing past the diner.
Just another day in Mayweather, I suppose.
“So neighbor, how’s it going?” Mitch asks Travis after paying for his food.
Rolling his eyes, Travis tells him, “We’re not neighbors.”
Mitch chortles. “You really gonna pretend like you ain’t moved into Brenden’s house? I can’t remember the last night I didn’t see your truck there.”
Wait a minute.The boyfriend I’ve heard Brenden talking about isTravis? That’s a bigger surprise than seeing the chicken. I had no idea Travis was anything other than straight.
“Seeing him every night is not the same thing as living with him.” Travis’s jaw looks tight, and it’s clear he doesn’t want to be engaging in the conversation.
Everyone in the diner is listening. No one’s even trying to pretend they’re not. But to be fair, it’s kind of hard not to listen when Mitch talks so loudly.
“If you sleep in a place every night and wake up there in the morning,”—Mitch waves his arms around like he’s trying to demonstrate something—“I’m pretty sure that means you live there.” Turning to address everyone else, he asks, “Am I right?”
And people don’t hesitate to chime in with their agreements.
Travis stands there, his hands gripping the edge of the counter and his lips pressed together, now looking like he could commit mass murder.
Luckily for Mitch—and possibly the rest of us—a cook pops his head in the passthrough window and sets down a plastic bag. “To-go tuna melt!”
Travis grabs the bag and thrusts it over the counter at Mitch. “Your chicken’s waiting for you. Better get going.”
Mitch walks to the door with his food, but before he leaves, he turns back, pointing a finger at Travis. “You know, if you didn’t want people to talk about your relationship, maybe next time don’t ask the whole town to do a crazy dance on the green so you can tell the guy you love him.”
When Travis moves threateningly around the counter, Mitch rushes out the door.
Clearing our plates a few moments later, Travis grumbles to no one in particular, “Wonder if I could buy Brenden a new inn in a normal town.” But despite his words, I catch the hint of a smile on his face.
After Travis disappears into the back area of the diner, I tell Andrew and Toby, “I feel like I missed so much. There was a town dance?”
“Flash mob,” Andrew says.
Toby nods. “It was so much fun. You can read the article I wrote about it.”
We finish our lunch, then head back to Andrew and Toby’s apartments. Andrew lives right above the yoga studio, and Toby is above the empty space next door. There was a candy shop there for as long as I can remember, but Andrew told me the couple that owned it recently retired and moved to Florida.
Andrew unlocks the red door that’s nestled between the two store fronts, and the three of us walk up the narrow staircase together. Then Toby goes into his own apartment on the right, giving me and my brother the chance to hang out alone.
I follow Andrew into his tiny studio apartment and immediately throw myself onto the couch, kicking off my flip-flops and stretching my legs across the cushions.
