Iggy reminded him so much of his teenage self that all Malcolm wanted to do was flirt.
“I wish I could help out Melissa on the dating thing,” Iggy said, “but I just got back to town and recognize, like, four people from high school.”
Malcolm chuckled. “The longer you hang out and spend time other places than the hospital and here, you’ll start to see familiar faces. Different but familiar. Gray hair, beer bellies, a few receding hairlines, that kind of thing.”
“Noted.” Iggy was still smiling when he moved down the bar to serve customers.
That smile left Malcolm warmer than the beer he drank, his attention shifting between watching Iggy charm other patrons and watching his sister enjoy herself. He hadn’t seen her smile so big or laugh so hard since her wedding day—well, second wedding day. Malcolm hadn’t gone to her first wedding to Lorne, and the marriage hadn’t produced anything except Amy and hurt feelings. Melissa’s wedding to Tomás had been a fun, festive affair, despite the small attendance, and it had been the highlight of Malcolm’s post-Iggy young-adulthood.
He knew Melissa’s second marriage had been a happy one, but Malcolm hadn’t been around to see it. He’d missed the births of all his nieces and nephews. He’d missed first steps, first words, and so many birthdays and holidays, because he’d been too hurt by Chance to return. Not only by the implosion of his relationship with Iggy, but also his home life. The betrayalsof his parents, the physical abuse, the cheating and eventual divorce.
But he loved his sister dearly, and he’d never heard her completely shattered until the phone call about Tomás.
Now she was…not thriving, exactly, but she was happy. Healthy. Her business was successful, her children doing well in school, and all the bills were up to date.
So are you, ding-dong.Melissa’s voice rang in his head, reminding him that he was healthy, doing well as Chance’s go-to handyman, and he didn’t have any outstanding debts to any financial institutions. He owned his truck, and the camper was on loan from one of Melissa’s long-time hair clients. Malcolm wasn’t sure he’d say he was thriving, but he was in a good place, financially and physically. Emotionally…he was lonely.
Lonely for a real connection to someone he could fall in love with.
Maybe for the second time.
No, it was too soon to imagine falling back in love with Iggy, after only being in each other’s orbits for two days. One step at a time. One conversation at a time. One meaningful smile at a time.
Around midnight, Melissa was drooping from a combination of alcohol, dancing, and being a working mother of four. Malcolm closed out their tab—his and Iggy’s fingers brushed when Iggy passed back Liss’s credit card—and led his tipsy sibling outside to his truck. She was yawning by the time they got home, and she stumbled on the three steps up to the back door, so Malcolm sent her upstairs to bed.
The babysitter was a retired teacher who lived three houses down, and she was willing to stay for another two hours, until Melissa was settled and everyone was asleep. Liss wasn’t passing-out drunk, and the kids were heavy sleepers, soMalcolm was confident enough to pay the sitter her fee before walking back to Saddle Up.
The walk wasted time, not only for the bar to wind down, but also for Malcolm to talk himself into the merits of this plan. Iggy could turn him down, and he’d just have gotten a lot of extra exercise. Iggy could invite him inside, and…well…
He waved at a few folks departing in their cars or trucks, and the saloon’s parking lot was more than half empty when he strolled along the perimeter. He paused at the corner of the building, considering going back inside and chilling at the bar until closing, but he didn’t want to distract Iggy. Surprise felt like a better tactic. So, he followed the gravel path around back, past Laurel’s Bug and Howie’s station wagon, and up the ramp to the porch.
The trailer’s porchlight was on, casting a fan of orange light and shadows across the mismatched outdoor furniture. Malcolm picked a chair mostly in shadow and settled in to wait. Sounds from the front parking lot filtered back, mostly belts of laughter. One horn honked. Engines revved. Noises of the night and of a slowly emptying gathering place.
Malcolm tilted his head up to study the stars he could see through the dim lights from town, until they all disappeared behind his eyelids. Noise coalesced into a white noise that nothing penetrated until an engine buzzed to life nearby. He sat up with a start and a crick in his neck, and he scanned the back lot.
Iggy stood by the fender of the wagon and watched Laurel’s Bug circle the building and disappear. Anticipation flooded Malcolm’s insides, leaving his stomach squirrelly and his palms sweaty. Iggy turned and strode toward the ramp, head up, aware, and he noticed Malcolm before he’d set foot on it.
“I wasn’t expecting an early-morning package delivery.” Iggy crossed his arms and waited at the bottom of the ramp.
“I wasn’t sure I should come back.” Malcolm stood but didn’t approach. He wasn’t blocking Iggy’s access to the trailer’s door, and he wouldn’t try and stop Iggy if Iggy said goodnight. He also wasn’t leaving until dismissed by word or actions.
Iggy came halfway up the ramp then stopped again. “Why did you?”
“When I was here yesterday, I noticed the screen door’s hinge was squeaky.”
“So, you wanted to oil it at two-thirty in the morning?”
“I’m up.”
He swore, even in the bad light, that Iggy’s gaze flickered down to Malcolm’s crotch. “Looks like we’re both up. I take it Melissa made it safely home? Wait, where’s your truck?”
“I walked back. Gave me time to change my mind.”
“About oiling a squeaky hinge at zero-dark-thirty?”
“Whatever gets me in the door.” Off Iggy’s raised eyebrows, Malcolm added, “To talk. I really enjoyed hanging out today at the hospital. As much as anyone can enjoy hanging out in a hospital, I guess, but you know what I mean. And tonight, at the bar, it was fun. Even when we didn’t talk, it was fun.”
Iggy took a few more steps forward, maybe three solid strides from the porch now. His arms fell loose by his sides, all defensiveness disappearing behind fatigue. “I liked having a friendly face nearby. I mean, the staff has been friendly enough, but I’m not Howie, and I don’t think the cook likes me very much.”
