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Great, Satan Jr. was back and yakking in my ear.
“And as for a hickey, it was probably a shadow,” I clarified as he stood there nodding his balding head while chewing on a jelly donut. I was too damn mature to give hickeys.
“Huh, well, okay then. Anyway, Tonya is working on her guest list for our yearly Christmas party. Two kinds of tiny wieners this year! Look for the invite in your inbox within the week and RSVP early because once we hit fifty people, we’re cutting things off.”
“Will do, but I’m not sure if I’ll be free. It takes a lot of time to keep those Hollywood folks in line.” I would sooner place my balls in a nutcracker than go to a Logan/Tonya party. The last one was still being talked about in whispered conversation at any town function. I think there was a meme floating around a year or so ago. I’d never seen a man get so thoroughly raked over the coals in my life.
“Yep, so I hear. I personally keep my distance. Tonya’s not fond of people who come from outside the county. Other than you, of course. She says you’re her token queer party invite.”
“She says that out loud?” I enquired because...wow.
“Well, no. Well, I mean, she said it to me over dinner one night. But it’s a compliment.” His phone pinged. The man startled so badly that he dropped his donut. “Shit. I mean, oh hey, that’s Tonya. Make sure you look for that email!”
He ran off, leaving his donut on the floor in his haste. Sighing, I got up and plucked the baked good from the floor before Leighanna came in to ask if I wanted to speak to the local yarn crafting group, Knit Happens, and slipped. We did not need a broken hip on Black Friday. Or any other day. After I dropped the donut in the trash, I sat back down, fired up my desktop, and tackled some paperwork. While I loved my job, I loathed the incredible amount of paperwork that came with it. Every incident required a report filed. And while my workload was lighter than say my fellow officers in Philly or Pittsburgh, it was still mundane and boring. My typing skills were shit—my fingers were too big for the small keys—so I did a lot of hunting and pecking with one finger. I’d just opened the incident report for the domestic call last night when I heard a few clerks passing by my door, discussing the great deals online today.
Knowing that I’d be whisked back into my past as I filed all the details that I could recall, I opted to let that set for a spell and opened up a search for good gifts for...
And there I hit a blank. What exactly was Tony to me now? Not my boyfriend and yet not exactly my ex anymore. So was he now my friend? I mean, we did fuck over a camel as my inner asshole with horns had so tactfully pointed out. Generally speaking, I didn’t do that to my friends. So we were more than friends but not boyfriends. Was that a category I could even do a search for? Would the search engine find me a nice present if I typed in “What to get someone you’re fucking and considering getting back together with but are scared shitless of actually taking that step because he hurt you so badly a lifetime ago?” or would the poor program just curl up like a pill bug?
I typed in gifts for male friends.
That seemed less likely to fry the server or whatever type of technobabble might ensue. Pages and pages of gift suggestions appeared. I squinted at the screen and began scrolling. So many suggestions. Holy hell. How would I ever decide? And should I even be looking for Christmas gifts? Where did gift giving fall in the working on reconciling list? Was there a list? I went searching for one in a separate tab while a page filled with men’s scarves waited on the left of the screen for me to return. Hmmm, well, this page was full of healthy tips. Don’t use the past as a weapon. Oops. Okay, I did that. Big time. They also said to communicate honestly. Ouch. Yeah, that was a tough thing for me to do. Exposing my vulnerable spots was something that I didn’t like to do. Learned that growing up with a man who spoke with his fists. Yikes, this list was filled with tough angles that were not going to be easy. Did I even want to spend all that energy on a man who had torn my chest open and ripped out my heart before?
Now, Stillman, that’s a bit over the top. Yes, he did hurt you, but he was younger then, and as we know, young men tend to do foolish things. I recall a line from Sir Walter Scott about the affectations of young men and—
“Rap, rap! Oh hey, are you shopping on company time?” I looked up to see Bradley, wearing that fake politician smile, peering over the top of my monitor. Thankfully, he had shown up before my angelic shoulder guest could get deeper into Scottish poets and their thoughts on youthful swains. “I’ll have to dock your pay packet!”
“You don’t pay me, the state does.”
He stood straight, sighed as if slighted, and then tucked his too long tie back into his brown suit jacket.
“I was joshing, Stillman. I’d never dock your pay for spending some time looking for the perfect gift for that handsome fiancé of yours.”
It was only nine in the morning. Maybe I should take an ad out in the Rockmount News to inform the good villagers that I was not engaged to Tony.
“We’re only friends,” I wearily replied.
“Oh really? That’s not what I heard at the diner. Well, if you want to keep it under wraps, that’s fine. I know how famous stars are when it comes to personal matters. I’ve tried numerous times to speak to Sasha Faye since her arrival, but her retinue informed me that she does not allow anyone but her team into her trailer, which is a shame because I have an incredible idea about an ad for the county that—”
“Bradley, did you want something in particular?” I asked as I closed out the “how to get back with your ex” page. I minimized the scarf page as Tony did like scarves. Or he used to. Shit, I barely knew this older Tony at all. Did he still enjoy seafood? What was his favorite color now? Was it still blue or had that changed?
“I did, yes. Today they’re shooting the tree lighting ceremony on the green. I’m reminding all the extras to show up and be ready for that scene. The director asked me personally to contact all the locals who signed contracts. I just know people are going to flock here for the winter after seeing our beautiful little park all done up with lights!”
Ugh. Hair and makeup. “Fine, I’ll be there.” I prayed there were no lines I had to remember. “I do have to get this paperwork done. By the way, do you know if there are any openings at the Wilda Hinkens Shelter?”
His always upbeat persona fell away. “I heard about the call out to Clint’s place. I’ll check with Dot. Sadly, it’s generally pretty full. Lots of hard times in our neck of the woods. Low jobs, high cost of living...”
I was aware. Yes, life was hard for rural Americans, but that didn’t give people the right to take out their frustrations on those weaker than them.
“Thanks. I’m just asking in case someone might want to spend a night or two—” I replied and then let it drop. Bradley did the same. His cousin ran the shelter, so he had a direct line to the place. Dot, too, had seen her share of hard times with her ex-husband. I liked her a lot and did all I could for her shelter whenever it was possible. That included donations and fundraising candy bar sales. Families needed that shelter. And yes, that was also my past experience talking.
“Of course. I hope if anyone needs a room, they know they need only to call.” He gave me a nod, threw back his shoulders, and fell into mayor form. “So, I’m off to supervise the placing of the Marty Buckerman star as it’s transported from the Grange to the green. What a glorious day to be mayor!”
Off he went, stopping to talk with Leighanna on the way out. Hoping that going to the tree lighting ceremony would be a lift, I dove into the incident report from last night and then filed it away. There were several others in the files.
When I was perusing socks for friends, a call rolled in, the ping pulling me from some really silly but cute men’s socks with stars on them. There was no stopping the smile that appeared when I saw it was Tony. I hurried to close the sock website.
“Morning,” I answered in my best sheriff voice as Leighanna was seated less than a few hundred feet away. “Sheriff King speaking.”
