Malcolm nodded. “I don’t guess I could talk you into taking a break from visiting to go see Tommy’s little league game at one.” When Iggy’s mouth twisted into a weird frown, Malcolm added, “No one we knew in high school has a kid on the team.”
“Good to know. I don’t know why I even care. I mean, high school was seventeen, almost eighteen years ago. It’s not like what happened made the front-page news. All anybody really knew was I ditched walking at graduation after I got outed, and then I got the hell out of town. I’m sure it was a bigger deal to me than anyone else.”
“Hey.” Malcolm hadn’t meant to snap, but fuck. Iggy dumping him and disappearing on him after that party hadhurtMalcolm. A whole hell of a lot. Between losing Iggy and his parents’ divorce, those few months had been pure hell.
But Iggy had been alone that night. So had Malcolm, but in a different way. And That Night still hung between them like an ungrounded electric wire. Hazardous. Explosive.
“Sorry, not the time or place,” Iggy said softly. “I, um, little league. Okay. The sports center on the highway?”
“Yep.”
“I can go for about an hour. I am covering for Howie’s shift at the saloon, remember? It’s Saturday night.”
“I get it. You know, Howie’s lucky to have you. I can’t imagine Laurel and the crew trying to cover everything without someone with experience being at their fingertips. It’s not likespare bartenders are floating around Chance hoping for a job opening.”
“The universe works in mysterious ways.” Iggy stirred his milky coffee concoction. “Would you believe me if I said I’d been thinking of calling you?”
Malcolm was glad he’d only reached for his own coffee mug and hadn’t picked it up, or he’d have a steaming hot lap right now. “Really? Since when?”
“Honestly? Since I heard about Tomás, and that Melissa was a widow with four kids. I knew you’d come to help her out, and I thought that was insanely generous and kind, and it made me think of how amazing you were to me back then. High school, I mean. But I was obviously too scared to reach out, or even to Google you, or I’d have figured out you’d stayed here in Chance.”
“But you thought about it. About me. Trust me, I thought about you a lot. These last two years, especially. Every time the kids wanna go out fly fishing, I think of you and our camping trips, and that time we met Old McRainey.”
Iggy laughed. “It was like being found by the bogeyman you’ve feared your whole life, because he eats nosy kids like some sort of Grimm’s fairy tale witch, and it turns out he’s just a cranky old man who wants to be left alone.”
“Honestly, that’s kind of goals, at this point. A nice piece of land on the creek, a cabin with a wood stove, and a lot of private property signs sounds like heaven.”
“I imagine it’s a bit cramped, living in your sister’s backyard.”
“It is, and it’s not forever.” Malcolm let his gaze wander around the busy restaurant and its mix of faces. Some folks had lived here for generations, others for a few years, but the one thing he always seemed to see was contentment. Peace. Small-town folks living the life they preferred in this small town.
As a kid, he’d loved it here. As a teen, he’d felt stifled and invisible. As an adult? He wasn’t sure anymore. He’d run fromplace to place, always renting, never certain about settling down for very long. Chasing something and never finding it. Never even sure what it was—until now.
He’d caught what he’d been chasing for the thirteen years since he beat cancer: peace.
The kind of peace that would come from finally sorting out his past with Iggy. He just needed Iggy to stop deflecting and avoiding. But pushing Iggy never worked. Iggy would close up tighter than a rusty screw with a stripped head if Malcolm confronted him before Iggy was ready. This subtle dance they were doing now? Having a platonic sleepover last night? They reminded him of the slow steps they’d taken in high school, advancing one day at a time, constructing their relationship in tiny parts over months, like props and set pieces.
Malcolm didn’t want this to take months. He also didn’t want to fuck everything up again, and scare Iggy into leaving Chance a second time.
“You know, you should go talk to Old McRainey,” Iggy said. “Tell him you’re interested in buying the place when he’s ready to sell.”
“Sell? Hah. That old man’ll die in his cabin, or somewhere in his yard, and then the property will probably get stuck in probate court or something.”
“Does he have relatives?”
“No idea. Don’t remember seeing any pictures in the place that time we were in it.”
Iggy nodded then sipped his coffee. “He didn’t have pictures of anything in that cabin, just those deer heads, the fox pelt, and those birds on a log. Spending the night with a bunch of dead animals was not on my high school bucket list.”
“Yeah, mine either.” It sure had been an experience, though, being rescued from nearly drowning bythe town hermit…
…“I can’t believeI let you talk me into this,” Iggy gripes for probably the twentieth time in the last two hours. “If I die of pneumonia, I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”
“You’re not gonna get pneumonia.” Malcolm isn’t so sure of that anymore but his pride won’t let him admit he’s wrong.
They’ve had this camping date planned all week, and it’s not his fault Iggy’s uncle needs the station wagon tonight. Something about an old buddy in Fort Collins for the weekend, and Howie needing to go see him. Instead of scrapping the campout, Malcolm borrows a two-man tent from a classmate whose family is into that crap. It’s mid-spring and still pretty cold at night, but Malcolm insists they’ll be warm enough when they share body heat under the sleeping bags.
Snuggling naked under those bags is Malcolm’s favorite part of camping.
