Page 50 of Missile Tow
“Train me on the register,” he’d begged after the first two days of helping out. “I’m smart. I can handle it.”
“You’re too good to be manning a stupid cash register in a dumb store like this,” I’d muttered. “Trust me, this part is boring.”
I avoided giving him mundane tasks. For some reason, I didn’t want Van to dislike working in the mercantile. He didn’t say he was staying past Christmas, but secretly, I wanted him to have a reason to. And I wanted the reason to be me, but I worried that just like John, he’d get sick of the mercantile andlump me in with the business as the reason he’d eventually leave town.
“Your business is not stupid or dumb,” he’d declared. “You should be proud of what you’ve established in Missile. Your customers love your store, but mostly, Chip, they love you.”
“I just think you’re too good for this type of work,” I admitted. “City boy like you with your fancy tech job. This can’t be fun.”
“Working here is a blast, and I like helping you. I enjoy the wonderful customers you have. I even like Bertie,” he joked. “What’s not to appreciate about your thriving business?” he asked.
Even though I wanted to voice a reason, I didn’t. He’d been a wonderful guest since the tow truck discussion had gone bad, but unfortunately, I sensed a cooling in the direction of our relationship.
We were still quite physical, but there were no words about a future, no discussion of messages from the universe or his search for love. He’d either readjusted his plans or knew I wasn’t a candidate.
* * *
“Is Van here today?” Mrs. Gardner asked. “I just have to tell the dear that I spoke to my daughter, and he was correct with his advice. I just love that boy so much,” she added, looking around the store impatiently.
“He’s in the cooler restocking dairy,” I answered. She looked desperate to speak with him, so I gestured to the door to the stockroom. “Go ahead. You can go back and say hi.”
She clutched her purse to her chest. “He is so wonderful, Chip,” she said, oozing affection and love. “Such a breath of fresh air, too.” She paused and nervously adjusted the hem of herdress. “I think he knows stuff,” she whispered, quickly glancing around to see who else might be nearby.
“You think he knows stuff?” I inquired, knowing full well what she insinuated.
Mrs. Gardner was their leader, but many other town folks, especially the older women, had mentioned they felt something special when interacting with Van.
She nodded excitedly, clutching her pearl necklace. “You know what I mean,” she whispered. “Stuff. Otherworldly stuff.”
“I see,” I acknowledged. “Otherworldly stuff. The serious stuff.”
She waved me off with zero regard for my teasing. “Van knew Carol wanted me to call her and patch things up.”
Carol was the daughter Mrs. Gardner had offended when she voiced her displeasure about Carol marrying a man of a different race. Unfortunately, Missile is very white. Boringly so. But her disapproval was based on long-rooted bigotry in these parts.
“Carol,” I affirmed. “The daughter you haven’t spoken to in a decade?”
Mrs. Gardner twisted her necklace with her arthritic fingers. “It has been a decade,” she admitted. “But Van felt I needed to better understand Carol’s feelings. He explained Carol must love her husband if she could go all these years without speaking to her mother.”
“Van said all that?” I asked, not so surprised after spending nearly a week with the incredible man.
I’d witnessed his opinions about forgiveness and wisdom. Even though Van admitted he struggled with his mom’s new husband, he knew that one day soon, he’d need to accept the fact and try to engage with him better. His capacity to look at his weaknesses, forgive himself, and make a plan to be a better person was amazing to witness. He impressed me every time I discovered a new thing about him.
Her eyes teared up, so I handed her a box of Kleenex from behind the counter. “Van is wise, Chip,” she said, dabbing the corners of her eyes. “He was so loving to take the time to listen to an old lady like me. I think he truly cares about folks,” she added. “And to think his boyfriend dumped him for some stranger.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her he’d been dumped for the guy who’d dumped me. Knowing Van and his forthright attitude, maybe he’d told her already.
“He told you he was gay?”
“Oh my, yes,” she replied. “I’ll admit I was surprised, but like you, he’s too handsome for womenfolk.”
“Like me?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Her face tightened. “Now don’t go acting offended, Chip. We all knew John was your person,” she stated. “Gosh, you boys were practically connected at the hip almost before you could walk.”
“And you knew John and I were together? Were a couple?”
“Of course,” she answered. “Even if the two of you were reluctant to speak about it.”
