Page 34 of Shattered Melodies

I grinned, snagging a glass of lemonade and taking a long, cold sip. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

We settled into the porch chairs, the three of us, watching as the sky turned from blue to gold to a deep, velvety purple. The crickets were starting to chirp in the long grass, and the air was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle and fresh-cut hay.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the shadows began to lengthen, Dad and I finished up with the chickens. I wiped the sweat from my brow, feeling the satisfying ache of a hard day’s work in my muscles.

“Hey, Pops,” I said, tossing the last of the feed into the coop. “We still got enough grub for the rest of the animals?”

Dad frowned, his brow furrowing as he mentally tallied up our supplies. “Now that you mention it, we’re running a bit low. Gonna need to make a run to Jay’s Feed Store soon, stock up before the winter hits.”

I nodded, already reaching for my keys. “I’ll go. I could use a drive, clear my head a bit.”

Dad gave me a long, searching look, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that, son? You know how folks around here can be, especially when it comes to… well, you know.”

I did know. Knew all too well the whispers and the sideways glances, the cold shoulders and the not-so-subtle jabs. Being gay in a small town like Oakwood Grove wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, even in this day and age.

But I wasn’t about to let a bunch of narrow-minded bigots keep me from living my life, from doing what needed to be done.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, my jaw tightening with determination. “We need the feed, and I’m not gonna let a few ignorant assholes stop me from getting it.”

Dad sighed, but there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes, a hint of approval in the set of his mouth. “Alright then. Just be careful out there, okay? And if anyone gives you any trouble, you just remember what I always tell you…”

“Don’t start anything, but sure as hell finish it,” I finished, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Dad chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. “Damn straight. Now get going, before it gets too late.”

I nodded, giving Dad a mock salute before heading over to my truck. The old beater groaned to life, a familiar rattle accompanying me as I drove into town. Oakwood Grove stretched out before me, its streets lined with memories both sweet and bitter.

As I pulled into Jay’s Feed Store, the gravel crunching under my tires, I steeled myself for the inevitable small-town scrutiny. To my surprise, the store was mostly empty, just a couple of old-timers browsing the shelves.

I made my way to the feed section, hefting a couple of heavy sacks onto my shoulder. The weight was grounding, a reminder of the simple, honest work that had always been my anchor.

At the checkout counter, I overheard a snippet of conversation that made my stomach clench.

“Did you hear? The old Denison place got bought,” one of the old-timers said, his voice low.

Jay, the store owner, leaned in. “Yeah, I heard. Probably some out-of-towners, thinking they can change everything.”

The other man nodded sourly. “Ain’t right, if you ask me. This town’s got a certain way of doing things.”

Jay snorted. “Especially not their kind. You mark my words, they’ll be nothing but trouble.”

I felt my temper flare, hot and sudden. I set the bags down on the counter, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “You got a problem with people who are different, Jay?”

The store went silent, tension thick in the air. Jay’s face flushed, his eyes widening.

“Now listen here, Caleb,” he started, his voice low and threatening. “This ain’t none of your business. We’re just having a private conversation.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage bubbling inside me. “It becomes my business when you’re spreading hate in public, Jay. People have a right to live where they want, love who they want. Even in Oakwood Grove.”

Jay’s face darkened. “You defending them? What, you one of them too?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. For a moment, I considered backing down, letting it slide like I had so many times before. But something in me had snapped.

“Yeah, Jay. I am,” I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart. “I’m gay. And I’m not ashamed of it. If you or anyone else has a problem with that, well, that’s your issue to work through.”

The silence that followed was deafening. I could feel the eyes of the other customers on me, could hear the shocked whispers. Jay’s face went through a range of emotions - shock, disgust, and finally, a sort of resigned anger.

“Well,” he said, his voice cold. “I suppose you’d best take your business elsewhere from now on. We don’t serve your kind here.”

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