Page 47 of Inside Out
Howie stopped at the intersection and turned to face us. “Also true,” he agreed. “What can I do to help you fight these nutters? I need something to do with my days that doesn’t include moping and feeling sorry for myself.”
“Maybe you could organize a group of people to come and support the kids at the board meeting,” Julius suggested.
“Write an op-ed piece for the Blissville Daily News,” I offered. “Turn your ire away from potholes and onto hateful people who want us all to go back to living in the fifties.”
“Hey, we all know those potholes on Main Street are getting ridiculous. They’re only neglecting them to force us in to voting in favor of creating a payroll tax for anyone working in this town and assessing taxes on anyone working outside of Blissville who isn’t currently paying city taxes. They think if they wait long enough, we’ll get fed up and cave in. The hell we will. Not when revenue continues to grow with every new store that opens up.”
“I didn’t mean to get you all riled up,” I said, patting his shoulder. “Your op-eds are always well-researched and thought out.”
“Thank you,” Howie said, settling down. “And the fifties were a great era.”
“Not if you were gay,” I said.
“Or black,” Jules countered.
“Or a woman who was nothing more than her husband’s property,” I added.
“Okay, maybe it wasn’t so great when you’re not looking through rose-colored glasses,” Howie replied. “Can we at least agree there was excellent music in the fifties?”
“Absolutely,” Jules and I both said.
“You two are something else together. Even a crotchety, half-blind geezer like me can see it.”
“You’re not crotchety,” I countered.
“You’re not a geezer either,” Jules said.
“And clearly you’re not blind if you can see that we make a handsome couple,” I added.
“Enough already,” Howie said, waving to cut us off before crossing the street. “You’ll make me blush. You two fellas go on back to your place, Rome. I can take it from here.”
“We only have to circle back a few blocks once we reach your house,” I pointed out.
Howie turned around and grinned when he reached the other sidewalk. “Your yearning is emitting a frequency that’s disturbing my hearing aid. Go spend time with your fella.”
“What hearing aid?” I asked, knowing damn well he didn’t have one.
“What? I can’t hear you,” Howie shouted back before he turned around and whistled for Bess to follow him.
“I’ll have to work on turning the volume down on my want whenever we’re in public,” I said, smiling at Jules. “Do you want to head back to my place?”
“Oh yeah.” We turned around and headed back the way we came.
“Are you hungry?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” Julius responded.
“Great. I tried this delicious roasted pork recipe I found on Pinterest for the crockpot. I raised my brow over a few of the ingredients but I’m glad I made it anyway. Who knew adding a bit of lemon juice and soy sauce to chicken broth would combine with the juices from the pork tenderloin to make a delicious gravy?”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful, but that isn’t what I’m hungry for right now.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, and my heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest. Julius must’ve mistaken my reaction for uncertainty.
“Rome, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for yet.”
“I’m ready,” I said quickly. “That isn’t my issue.”
“What’s the problem then? Your underwear doesn’t match your T-shirt today?” he teased, squeezing my hand.