Chapter 13

Thirteen

"I don't know. It's taken us—what—almost five years to build this? We're finally making decent profits and now you want to sell?"

"I know. I know. But it's a LOT of money, T."

Titus was on the phone with Alden Abernathy, his friend, business partner, and former quarterback.

"And you're ready to just cut loose that easy?" Titus asked. "Walk away from it all?"

"It's Kinko's. They're huge, and they have really deep pockets. We could take some of the money and start another business. Maybe home inspections? Appraisals? You used to talk about opening a bar."

Titus reclined in his office chair, the phone cord stretching with him. "There's not much money in running a bar. Besides, who knows when Spoon will ever get liquor by the drink?"

"What about Maria's? They serve beer and margaritas."

"That's Morehead. I'd have to pull some strings with my dad to do it here. And you know I don't like leaning on him."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Big Britches and all."

Titus smiled. Alden knew him well.

"There's something I haven't told you, T."

"Is it the reason you're champing at the bit to sell?"

"Kinda." Alden chuckled nervously. "Sheila's pregnant. Looks like it's gonna be twins."

"Congratulations. That's wonderful news."

"Thanks, buddy."

"And you're worried about starting a family."

"A sizable nest egg of Kinko's cash would ease my anxiety, I assure you."

Titus thought about it. His father had co-signed a business loan with them to get the capital to open a small copy business when he and Alden graduated. They had started with two Xerox machines in a tiny space on the square, near the courthouse.

It had been Alden's idea to outsource and offer custom printing. Quick Pass Copy and Printing Services had grown ever since. Now, they printed everything, from business cards and wedding invitations to posters and vinyl graphics. They even did billboards.

"You really haven't worked here in a while, T."

That stung because it was true. Once Violet became ill, Alden had seen less and less of him. Now, she'd been dead for two years and Titus still hadn't returned. He'd settled into his hermit lifestyle, consulting occasionally as a silent partner, and letting Alden run the show without him.

"I do like the idea of an appraisals business."

"Really?" Alden asked, excited. "That was kind of at the top of my list, too."

"If you really want to sell it, it should be your decision. I haven't been there in so long that I probably wouldn't even recognize the place."

"Don't beat yourself up. You've been through a lot. But, yeah, I'm kind of itching to try something different. And with a huge influx of money, I could live comfortably and have enough reserve to invest in something new. What do you say, T? Want to do it all over again?"

Titus thought about Pedro, and how much his life had improved since Pedro's arrival. Might be fun to start another business with Alden too, and this time be more a part of it. Hell, they'd been partners for over a decade if you included football.

"OK," he said. "I'm on board. To sell … I'm uncertain about an appraisal business just yet though. Let's make a list of our top three ideas and meet. We'll weigh the pros and cons and decide what would be best for both of us… and Spoon."

"Fantastic. I'm so glad I called you."

"Me too. I've been getting out more, by the way."

"Yeah, I know." Alden paused. "I heard you might be seeing somebody."

Titus was wondering when he'd have to cross this threshold with Alden, and it didn't surprise him it had happened so soon. Spoon was tiny. Word got around pretty fast.

"Listen, T. You know we're friends. I just want you to be happy. You've had your share of hardship. If you've found love with someone else, then I'm happy, too."

"Even if it's a guy?"

"I gotta be honest. It didn't surprise me all that much. I mean, we've always had a somewhat intuitive relationship, ever since high school. Touchdown Telepathy , remember? That's what coach called it."

"Yeah." Titus grinned. "How did you hear?"

"Kay told me. She said y'all had been over to the Dream a few times."

"I wanted to show him our old hangout."

"It's all good, T. No judgment. I look forward to meeting him."

"Thanks, Alden. And thank you for being my friend."

"Always. Now, let's go make lots of money."

"I'll let Tuttle know what's going on with us selling. He'll want to go over any papers they send over."

"For sure," Alden agreed. "That old bulldog won't let anything shifty happen."

"You know it. Talk to you soon."

"Thanks, T. Take care."

Titus hung up the phone, smiling. Roz stuck her head in the study. "Sorry to intrude, but I was waiting for you to finish."

"No worries. What's up?"

"Um…" she began, her face perplexed. "Your father's here."

"Here? Now?" Titus couldn't mask his surprise. "You're kidding?"

"As much as that expression on your face tickles me, I wish I was responsible. But I'm afraid I'm telling the truth."

"Okay," Titus said, emphasis on the latter syllable. He began straightening the few papers on his desk as if it would help him regain composure. "Thank you, Roz. Send him back here, I guess."

Titus reclined again in the swivel chair. Through the window, he saw Tucker and Shelly playing in the yard. He yearned to be out there with them. He'd only come to the study to take Alden's call. Now, his father was here, and he was pretty sure he knew why. Outdoors was much more appealing, playing with the kids… and Pedro. He missed Pedro on his off days. Today, Silas had him working on some new project out on Hog Mountain Road.

You'll see him soon enough .

He looked at his watch.

Truman Shepherd walked into the study. He was still relatively young, only in his fifties, but Titus noticed he was moving a little slower than usual.

"You alright, Daddy?"

Truman waved him off. "Yeah, I'm fine. Slept weird. Woke up with a crick in my back. It only hurts when I breathe."

Titus stood and came around the desk, helping his father to sit.

"Don't fuss over me. I'm fine. Seriously."

Titus backed off, hands raised. He returned to his seat behind the desk.

"Goodness gracious," said Truman. "I haven't been in my old office in a while. It's weird me sitting on this side. I feel like I'm at a job interview."

If so , Titus thought, then it's me that's being questioned .

His father hadn't interviewed for a job in a very long time, probably never. Similar to Titus, Truman also owned businesses and let other folks run them. You make money with money , he often said. Titus suspected that being mayor of Spoon didn't amount to much work, either. He had a feeling most of the business his dad did these days was over cocktails or lunch.

"I just got off the phone with Alden."

"How's my favorite quarterback?" Truman asked.

"He's good. He's looking to sell the business."

"Oh, yeah? Has he got an offer?"

"Kinko's. They're national."

"I know the name. That's pretty good, son. You two built it up in, what, five years? Now, a chain is looking to gobble you up. Of course, the same will happen to them, eventually. It's the way of the world these days."

Perceptive too . No denying it.

"Yeah, you're probably right. I wasn't convinced, but he's worried about money. A sale would help him out. Might also help us start up something else."

"Sheila is pregnant, you know."

Titus had omitted this part because he wasn't sure the news was out yet. But, as in most cases regarding town business, his father was in the know… even the gossip.

"Yes, he told me. Twins."

Truman nodded. "I think it's a wise decision. How much are they offering?"

"Five hundred thousand with clientele and a non-compete. I'm going to have Tuttle look over everything."

"Half a million? Yes, sir, I think it's a wise decision. Perhaps you should do something else with Alden. He's a smart fella."

Was that a dig?

"Yes, he is."

"It's good to make money when you can. The world is moving so fast these days."

"Says the mayor, seeking new enterprise for his town."

Truman grinned. "You're pretty smart too, son."

Ever the politician .

"So, what brings you out this way, Daddy?" Titus said, growing weary of the small talk.

Truman eyed Titus. "I think you know."

"How did you find out? Kay, over at the Dairy Dream?"

Truman raised his brow. "No. Mildred Perkins over at the Squire Shop. She spoke with your mother. Is it true, son?"

Titus held his father's gaze. He had never feared the man; he respected him. Years of Sunday School had taught him to honor thy father and mother as a child. It may seem old-fashioned, but the notion was inherent in Titus, instilled in his very being. His kinship with his parents was molded on a solid foundation of the truth, and Titus didn't see any reason for that to change now.

Still, it was powerfully difficult to utter the words because of deep-rooted, conditioned shame—fearing a stigma that not only he would bear, but his family as well.

"You don't have to say, son. I can see it in your eyes. So, you're seeing this man—this Mexican man."

"His name is Pedro."

Truman nodded as if he knew that already, too.

Both men were at somewhat of a stalemate, neither knowing how to go further with the conversation. Titus finally broke the silence.

"I've always done what people expected of me. I won all those state championships, married the town sweetheart, gave you a grandchild and the illusion of a perfect son. But it wasn't me, Daddy, not all of me anyway. The one person in this world that knew it best is dead. Violet saw through it all. She left me a letter after she was gone, encouraging me to be my true self, to live an authentic life. So, I'm not just doing this for me, Daddy. I'm also doing it for her. Violet's dying wish was for me to be happy, and you know how hard it is for me to let anyone down."

Truman said nothing, just listened. Titus continued.

"If she hadn't died, I probably would have repressed myself forever, become a drunk, and made both of us miserable until she divorced me. All because of preconceptions and prejudice that has been passed down through generations in a small town. So yeah, the world may move fast in some ways, Daddy, but in others, it's barely moving at all."

Truman continued to observe his son silently.

"So, yeah, I'm gay. Always was—something Violet knew and accepted. But know this—please know this—we did love each other. Dying at her age was cruel and unfair, and yet she still wanted it to have meaning. So, her final, unselfish wish was for me, and I don't think I could love her any more than I do right now. Because of her, I not only have Tucker, but a beautiful man named Pedro. We're happy, Daddy. If that means you're here to judge me, or shame me, or cut the purse strings, then—I don't know—I guess I'll just take my child and my boyfriend and go somewhere else."

Truman cleared his throat. "I see you've given this a lot of thought."

"I have. We married young–as many do–because we were expecting. Neither of us wanted an abortion, so the easiest way for us to solve the problem was to give others—including you and Momma—what you wanted. So, we did. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You have a son. Your mother and I are very grateful for both you and Tucker."

"I meant I'm sorry that I never told you. We've always been honest with each other… at least I have, and I think you have." Titus chuckled softly. "You are a politician."

Truman smiled. "I've always been honest with you, son. Maybe once in a while I told a little white one when you were little. But even those made me feel guilty. That old adage the truth shall set you free —it's the real deal, you know?"

It was. Sitting there right now, Titus felt like he'd lost ten pounds—hell, twenty. So much better now that everything was out. No more harboring secrets from those close to him.

"There's a fair share of gay folks in Spoon and Morehead," his father continued. "You wouldn't know that because you've been a hermit these last five years. When word of you and Pedro reached your mother, she told me she wasn't surprised. Said she'd always suspected–mothers and their intuition, you know? But, as you said, small town preconceptions often overrule. Myself? I always thought you'd marry Barb. You two have been inseparable since you were tots. But your mother also clued me in that she's gay."

"Momma knows that, too?"

"She's a smart woman, son. That's why I married her, among many other reasons. She helps me with perspective. Often. Like today. We would never shun you, son. I hope, deep down, you already knew that, but I can see how you've got a lot going on in your head. You're still young, even though you've been through some rough times. Times like I've never experienced."

"I shouldn't have doubted you, Daddy. I just felt so alone in all of this."

"You never leave the goddamn house, T. That's not helping."

Titus nodded, accepting the admonishment.

"But it's yours, forever if you like. I'll have Tuttle draw up the papers. Your mother and I are happy in town, and I know you love it here. This is your home and will be for as long as you want, with or without a man named Pedro—who we look forward to meeting, by the way."

"You'll like him, Daddy. Momma will too."

"If you find magic in him, son, I'm sure we'll see it as well."

Titus rose, smiling. "I'm glad you came by. Relieved. Now, I want to tell the world."

"Hold up, son. I got more to say."

"Yes, sir." Titus sat back down.

"Not everyone is as accepting as your mother and I are of the town football hero shacking up with another man—a Mexican man, no less. We have enemies. You know this. Namely, the Barksdales. Milton has always been envious of me. He despises how Spoon is miles ahead of Morehead economically and he resents having to lean on us for support. And didn't you have issues with his son?"

"Yeah. Mason was jealous of me. He had his heart set on Violet. Thinks I stole her from him."

"Old grudges never die."

"Where are you going with this, Daddy?"

"The town is all abuzz about you and your landscaper friend. Not all bad, but some. It wouldn't surprise me if word has reached the Barksdales by now."

Gotta love small-town gossip chains , Titus thought.

"Anyway," Truman continued. "Just wanted you to be aware. I'll do whatever I can to help you out should you need me. I'm not the enemy here, son."

"I know. I appreciate it."

"I'll keep my ear to the ground. You do the same."

"Yes, sir."

Truman stood with a small grunt. Titus instinctively went to help him, but his father waved him off again, making his way toward the study door. "Your mother and I would like to get together with you two."

"I'd like that. We both would."

"Let's say dinner. Tomorrow night."

"Oh."

"Is that too soon? You probably need more time."

"No. It's fine," Titus said, contemplating, yet still relieved. Dinner as a couple with his parents would be stressful for Pedro, he knew. But Titus had just taken a gigantic step. His instinct said to maintain the momentum. "We'll make it work."

"Good." Truman glanced back. "Oh, and I'll have Tuttle get those papers together for the house."

"Yes, sir. I'll look for them."

When Truman reached the doorway, he turned back again, surprised to find Titus so close behind him. Titus opened his arms and engulfed his father, squeezing him tight, tears brimming.

"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you so much."

When they parted, Truman gave him a small, mischievous grin.

"You really need to get out of this house more often."