Page 42 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 6

MIKE

I toss my keys onto my kitchen counter and yank the fridge door open, pulling out the leftover chicken parm that I’ve been dreaming about all morning. Leftovers are so much better than going out for lunch every day. Plus, it gets me away from the shop, I don’t run into any of the guys while I’m eating, and if I’m really lucky, Danny might call. It’s been three days since our last date—technically our first date—and he’s worked the last two nights in a row, so we haven’t been able to see each other. Hopefully we can at least talk on the phone tonight. Am I getting a little ahead of myself with him? Yeah, probably. But he seems right there with me, so I’m not worrying about it. No need to play it cool.

I put the parm in the microwave and wash my hands again. I can never completely get rid of the grease, no matter how many times I scrub them. As I grab a handful of paper towels, my phone rings, and I make a lunging grab for it. Please be Danny and not a wrong number. I snatch the receiver off the phone base and tuck it between my shoulder and ear. “Hello?”

“Hey, little brother, it’s Bonnie.”

My grin is instantaneous. “Hey! I’ve been thinking about you.”

She snorts. “Sure. Like I believe that.”

“No really. I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

The microwave dings, and I pop open the door, carefully taking out the plate while trying not to burn myself. “Can’t a brother just think about his sister now and then?” She scoffs into the phone, and I chuckle. “Okay. I guess not. Anyway, what’s the one thing you always ask about when we talk?”

“You’re finally moving out here?”

I wince at the excitement in her voice. I should have just told her my news. “No. Not now, anyway. But never say never. Right?”

“Oh. Okay.” Her disappointment kills me.

“What’s the other thing you always ask me?”

There’s a pause, and then she shrieks into the phone. “You’re seeing someone!”

Just thinking about Danny has me grinning again, and I laugh into the receiver. “Yeah. Well, sort of. It’s really new. Like, days old, new. But he’s so great, Bon.”

“Awww! That’s so sweet! Where did you meet? Tell me everything!”

I grab a knife and fork from the drawer and take my plate over to sit on the couch. “We met at the hockey game. Well, I guess we went to high school at the same time, but he was two grades below me, and I didn’t know him then. You’d have already graduated. But we officially met Saturday night at the Penguins game. He was sitting in my seat.”

Her laugh warms my heart. “Let me guess. He was supposed to be in the other section.”

“Right. He was there by himself, though, so I told him to stay put, and I sat next to him.”

“Of course you did.”

“Quiet.” I try to make my voice sound angry, but I’m thinking about Danny, so I can’t manage it. “Anyway, we got to talking, and he doesn’t know a lot about hockey, so I was helping him with the rules.”

She laughs. “Uh huh. Suuure you were.”

I ignore her spot-on innuendo. “We really hit it off, and I gave him a ride home. Then we exchanged phone numbers. And we met up again Sunday night to watch the game at The Saloon.” I stop my story there. She may be older than me, but she’s still my sister, and she doesn’t need to know about my sex life. Even if the orgasm was epic. “I really like him, Bon.”

She’s quiet, and I’m not sure what she’s thinking. Then she sighs. “Well, hell.” She sounds dejected, and that’s not at all what I was expecting.

“What?”

“I guess that means you’re really not going to move out here now.”

“Bon.”

She sighs. “I know. You have a job and an apartment. But big deal, Mike. There’s a job waiting for you here on the farm. Callum and Fin need a good mechanic to work on the equipment. And there’s lots of room here. You could stay in one of the small bunk houses until we can get something built on the property. Portland isn’t perfect, but it’s so much better on gay rights than Pennsylvania. There're bigots everywhere, but there’re fewer here, and none on this farm.” There’s real anger in her voice now, and I love her so much.

She reminds me a lot of our grandmother. Evelynn Graham was a spitfire and basically raised Bonnie and me. Which was a good thing, since neither of our parents really seemed to want the job. After she died, Bonnie and I grew even closer, always looking out for each other. When it was time for her to leave for college, Bon almost stayed because of me. That pissed me off, and I told her she had to go so I could graduate and follow her out to Oregon, where she was going to school.

Right before she left, I worked up the courage to tell her I was gay. She didn’t even blink. She told me it didn’t matter who I loved, that she would always love me, but maybe keep it to myself until I could make it out of high school and move to Oregon. There are moments when I wish I’d taken her advice.

“I’ll think about it, Bon. But I really want to see where this goes with Danny.”

Her voice softens, and I couldn’t love my sister more. “Is that his name? Danny?”

“Yeah. Danny Sullivan. He’s a retail manager at Horne’s. He still lives with his parents because of money, but he’s trying to save up to move out. We’ve talked a few times this week, but our schedules haven’t meshed to meet up again.”

“Bring him out here. We’re thinking about starting a pick-your-own-produce venture, and retail experience would be invaluable.”

“Bon.”

“Mike.”

I sigh and change the subject. “Everything okay out there? Callum’s good?” Her husband is the picture of a burly Scotsman, though he’s first generation American. Farming’s been in his family’s blood for generations, and he and his da, as he calls him, own a huge farm in the Portland area. Finlay’s mostly retired now and has left the running of the farm to Callum, but he still makes his feelings known.

“Callum’s great. And so is Fin. Though his knees are bothering him more. They sure could use a few extra hands.” She tries for teasing, but I know she’s serious.

I’m not sure why I don’t go. I guess fear of the unknown, mostly. “Someday. I promise. Anyway, Bon, I gotta run. Lunchtime’s almost over, and I have to get back to the shop.”

“Okay. I just wanted to check in. I miss you, Mike.”

Way to stab a guy in the heart. “I miss you too, Bon. I’ll call you this weekend, and we’ll talk longer. Okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hang up and stare at my now lukewarm chicken parm, hoping that staying in Pittsburgh isn’t a mistake.