Page 1 of Rhett & Moses
CHAPTER 1
MOSES
The Welcometo Gomillion sign loomed ahead. Its once-vibrant paint now faded and chipped around the edges, much like my enthusiasm for this whole affair. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as I tried to ignore the foreboding weight in my chest. Twenty years. Twenty goddamn years I’ve been driving down this road and it still felt like I was heading straight into the lion’s den, knowing that each and every day was one closer to my day of reckoning.
I’d lived and breathed these streets experiencing some great times but also terrible turbulent years. Who hasn’t had that in their lives? I’d been lucky to have solid friends such as Bronwyn and Maxwell back in Atlanta to fall back on to help keep my spirits raised and the luxury of expressing my love through mixology at times. It still didn’t stop the heavy weight that I carried on my shoulders knowing that this weekend it was the first Gomillion Reunion for my graduating class.
I rolled down the window and allowed the crisp Carolina mountain air to fill up my lungs. The familiar scent of pine and wildflowers should have been a comfort after all this time, but instead, it only intensified the knot in my stomach. Days away from here every week, quickly seemed to feel like years. In thedistance, the Blue Ridge Mountains cut a jagged line against the sky, lighting up the area and the reality of how small a town Gomillion really was in comparison to the surrounding area. It really was just a tiny speck nestled at the foothills of something much greater; an area of beauty that could easily be missed if you didn’t look close enough.
“Get it together, Moses,” I muttered as I passed the sign, officially entering the town limits. “It’s just a few days. Smile, pour the drinks to the alumni and avoid any questions about that statue. Afterwards, I’ll just get the hell out of dodge and then I’ll take a break away from everything.”
That was the plan, anyway. It was a simple one and should be easily executed. Take part in the Gomillion High twentieth reunion, do my duty as co-owner of Timbers & Tallboys, the town’s most popular watering hole, and then retreat back to Atlanta, where I’d carefully spent most of my well-constructed life that didn’t include painful memories or uncomfortable questions. Sounded easy, right? That didn’t mean that I didn’t spend any time here. That was quite the opposite, actually. I came here most weeks but as long as I could get out of town as soon as I possibly could then that was all that mattered. I bet that most of the locals didn’t even realize that I stayed outside the area in all honesty.
As I navigated the winding road that led into the town center, and passed familiar storefronts and houses that had barely changed in two decades, another name pushed through my mental defenses.
Rhett.
Just thinking his name sent a jolt through my body, a mixture of anticipation and dread that I’d been trying to suppress since I’d received the alumni invitation three months ago. I hadn’t seen him since that fateful night twenty years ago,the night of the scandal that had defined my existence in this town ever since.
I arrived at my destination, pulling me from my thoughts. I parked in my reserved spot behind Timbers & Tallboys, staring at the rustic wooden building. I’d partnered with Bronwyn Pew-Badders, a local entrepreneur with a flair for turning dying businesses into goldmines, to transform it into what was now Gomillion’s premier drinking establishment.
I grabbed my duffel bag from the passenger seat and headed for the back entrance. The heavy door creaked open before I could even reach for my keys, revealing Bronwyn’s tall figure silhouetted against the interior lighting.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed over her chest. “Look what the cat dragged in. I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind.”
“And miss all this?” I gestured broadly at the dumpsters lining the back alley. “Not a chance, Bronnie.”
Her stern expression cracked into a smile as she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug. Bronwyn wasn’t one for physical affection, which made her embraces all the more jarring when they happened. She’d happily listen to my conversations though with a drink in hand.
“It’s good to see you, Moses,” she said, finally releasing me. “Though I’m still pissed that you didn’t come up for the soft launch of the gin bar last month.”
I winced, guilt settling on my shoulders like an old, familiar coat. “I know, I’m sorry..."
“Save it,” she interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “Your exquisite collection of artisanal gins has been sitting behind glass, waiting for its master to return and work his mixology magic. The locals have been asking when the infamous Moses Morley would grace us with his presence.”
“Famous?” I snorted, following her into the building. “I doubt that.”
“You’d be surprised,” she replied cryptically, leading me through the storage area toward the main bar. “Word travels fast in Gomillion. When the out of towners heard you were coming back for reunion week, reservations shot up. We’re fully booked every night.”
Great. Just what I needed, an audience for my inevitable emotional breakdown when facing all the ghosts of my past.
I walked into the main bar, and I froze mid-step. Unlike the town outside, Timbers & Tallboys had had a slight renovation since my last visit a few weeks back. It’s not like I could even be mad at Bronwyn’s decision to make the odd change in the place without consulting me. She had an eye for detail in décor that I just didn’t have. The rough-hewn wooden beams still framed the ceiling, but Bronwyn had updated some of the artwork on the walls to bring in more of the mixed rustic charm and modern elegance. I did love the addition of a massive slab of reclaimed oak, backed by an impressive display of spirits, particularly the gin collection I’d curated remotely.
“You’ve been busy,” I managed, taking it all in.
Bronwyn shrugged, failing to hide her pride. “Figured if I was going to drag you back here, I might as well give you something worth coming back to.”
My eyes were drawn to a small shelf behind the bar, where an eclectic collection of items sat displayed like artefacts in a museum: an antique key stuck in an old lock, a cracked snow globe, a rusted zippo lighter, and, my breath caught in my throat, a silver school pin bearing the Gomillion’s logo and their milliped mascot.
“You kept it,” I whispered.
“Of course I did,” she replied, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “It’s important.”
I cleared my throat, desperate to change the subject before memories came flooding back too forcefully. “So, what’s the plan for tonight? You said early morning prep?”
Bronwyn checked her watch. “It’s Thursday morning. We’re already at five in the morning, Moses. The crew will be here at six to help set up for the pre-reunion ice breaker tonight. Other alumni will start rolling in on Friday around three for early check-ins, and the bar opens at four.”
“Jesus,” I rubbed my eyes, fatigue suddenly hitting me like a freight train. “I drove straight through from Atlanta. Haven’t slept since yesterday.”
