Read More

Keep reading for an Excerpt from

New Leaf

by Andrew Grey.

AFTER HOURSof talking and listening, Dex was worn out, and the time change was getting to him. Fortunately, he found Jane.

"Go for a walk. This will go on until the funeral. Your mother was loved, but it's going to be overwhelming if you don't take a break." She smiled. "Take the keys to the store if you want."

Dex gratefully went out the back door and through the yard, weaving along the back alley to the store. Then, after unlocking the rear door, he let himself inside.

The familiar scent of dust, books, and his mother nearly sent him reeling. This he remembered. Dex closed the door and turned on the lights as he wandered through the small back room with its boxes and shelves. His mother didn't keep much back here. She never had. She'd always said that she couldn't sell what was back here, so she kept as much of her stock out front as possible. Dex perused the area, remembering the corner where she'd set up a table and chairs. He had sat there for hours doing his homework, coloring, crafts—all of it in his own corner of the store. Oh, the hours he'd spent in this space with his mom. She always came back to check on him, and if there was no one in the store, she'd read to him or they'd color together until the bell on the front door jangled. It got to the point that he hated that bell because it meant she'd have to go back to work.

He peeked into some of the boxes before stepping through the curtain and out behind the register. The lights were off, but the sun shone in through the front windows. Everything looked as though his mother would return at any moment to open up. The shelves were all in order, and even the notebook she kept on the counter behind the register sat in its usual spot, surrounded by the trinkets and bookmark display. Dex lifted the counter and lowered it again once he'd stepped out from behind it, then wandered the aisles, looking over the rack of children's books. His mother had read most of them to him at one point. Of course, there were newer ones as well, but he continued on, checking over the shelves.

More books were turned cover forward to fill the shelves than he remembered. When he was a kid, the store had always been packed. But now it seemed staged—behind the single titles, there was nothing. The inventory he remembered his mother carrying wasn't in the store. Maybe it was just the children's section?

He continued to the adult areas of the store. There he found only a few hardcover books, and of the titles she had, his mother only had two or three copies. Dex knew independent bookstores had been having a difficult time in the past years because of Amazon, but every time he had asked his mother how the store was, she had told him it was fine. Maybe things hadn't been as rosy as his mother projected.

A knock on the front door startled him. He went up front, turned the lock, and opened the door. "Can I help you? We're closed for the next few days."

"I'm sorry. I was just passing, and I always stop by when I'm downtown." The man lifted his gaze, and Dex was struck by the most intensely blue eyes he had ever seen.

"My mother passed away and…." Damn, it was hard just to say the words. "The store will be closed until after the funeral." He put his hand over his mouth, willing himself not to fall apart. He had been okay a few minutes ago, but the grief was suddenly too much to bear.

"I'm so sorry. She was a nice lady." He paused, lowering his gaze slightly, looking like he might leave. "You're Sarah's son? She talked a lot about you. She said you were going to be in the movies." He smiled.

Dex swallowed hard. His mind skipped to how hunkalicious this guy was, with his hair all askew and his wrinkled shirt open just enough to allow Dex to catch a glimpse of a smattering of brown chest hair.

"Yes. I'm Dex." It was nice that his mom had talked about him. Even if he hadn't had any real success in Hollywood, his mother had always been proud of him anyway, he thought, his heart hitching.

"I was a regular customer of your mom's. I try to support local businesses, and she'd order in the books I wanted. That way she got the business instead of the big online places." He smiled, and Dex nodded.

"Did she have an order for you?" He wondered where his mother might have put it if she had.

"No. There were a few books I wanted, though. Still, I can come back once you're open again…." He leaned closer. "You are opening again, aren't you?" The blue in his eyes grew darker. "This is the only place in town that would order books for me. At least, the ones I wanted." He looked up and down the street. "I've got a weakness for romance—the masculine kind."

"I see…."

He put his hand over his mouth. "Of course. Sarah told me she had a gay son." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I'm Les. Les Gable." He shook his hand. "I'm sorry to keep you. I'll come back later." He paused. "I just want to tell you that your mom was the greatest. She cared so much about everyone. I'm going to miss her." Then he turned and, with a wave, hurried down the sidewalk.

Dex closed the door and locked it again. It seemed his mother had had an impact on a lot of people in town. She had always loved books and got a great deal of joy from reading, something she had passed on to Dex.

He walked through the store before returning to the back room. He found the safe where his mother always kept it, and searched his memory for the combination. She had told him what it was years ago, and luckily the numbers returned to him. He opened it and peered inside, where he found less than a hundred dollars, her starting bank for the day. He also pulled out the store accounts book. Then he closed the safe door and locked it again.

He wasn't sure what else he wanted to do, but he didn't want to go back to the house. The grief gathering was probably still going on, and he'd had enough. His mother was gone, and Dex needed to try to process the loss alone. He didn't need dozens of people talking about his mother for him to know her. His mom was here in this building—in each book, as well as in the way she'd painted each wall a different color because she thought it would be cheerful. The only problem was that she'd picked the brightest colors possible. Dex was afraid his eyes would start bleeding if he didn't do something about it soon. Especially that grass-green carpeting. "Mom, I love you, but your decorating was a nightmare," he said out loud, smiling. That was his mother. She loved what she loved, and to hell with what everyone else thought.

Dex set down the books and headed for the bathroom, gasping when he opened the door. Apparently where the bathroom in the house was Whoville, the one in the store was all Alice in Wonderland, and it had gotten the same treatment, including a Mad Hatter toilet-paper holder and a Queen of Hearts toilet cozy. The White Rabbit bounded over one of the walls, but it was Alice being sucked down the rabbit hole that made him laugh. It came with a reminder to flush. This was his mother in a nutshell. She could be out there, and yet she could also be so clever.

He shut the door, unable to use the bathroom, and retrieved the record book. It was time to go back to the house. At least now he could review his mom's records and figure out if it was viable to keep the store going.

He had a task to accomplish, something that would fill some hours and keep him from moping around. If the store was his mother's legacy, Dex needed to see if there was a way to move forward. He pulled open the rear door and locked it behind him, then headed back toward the house.

He decided to take a roundabout route, walking down to the square as the clock in the old courthouse chimed the hour. He paused and smiled. He remembered being in the store, listening for that bell, because most days, when it chimed six times, his mom would close up and they would go home. He shook his head as if to clear the memories. Something around every corner seemed to remind him of her. The trees had all leafed out, shading the streets. Dex wiped his eyes. In his mind's eye, he could see his mom and dad in their backyard, music drifting out from the house as they danced to a cascade of flower petals.

At the time, he'd considered it horribly embarrassing, especially when his mother had backed away from his dad insisting that she teach Dex to dance. Dex had fought it with everything he had. He hadn't wanted to learn to dance. But she'd made him. Damn, what he wouldn't give to dance with her with one last time.

"Dex?"

He turned and once again met Les's blue eyes. His heart beat a little faster and his throat dried in an instant, especially seeing the heat and interest in those eyes. Dex was used to people looking at him with hunger, but this was something more. "I just left the library and was on my way back to my apartment. What are you up to?"

"I finished up in the store and figured it was time to go home." He nodded in the direction he was going, and Les fell into step along with him, walking slowly. Dex realized that his one leg seemed stiff. He shortened his usual stride so Les wouldn't have to strain to keep up.

Les smiled at him. "Sarah always told me stories about you when I was in the store. She said that you're an actor working in LA."

"I haven't been working all that much lately, unfortunately. Unless you count porn," Dex said, his voice deadpan.

Les stopped midstride. "You did porn?"

Dex shook his head, grinning. "Oh God, no. My last audition was supposed to be a serious role, but well, it didn't turn out that way. My mother was always supportive, but I can't help but think her support would not stretch to cover that." He chuckled. "Though maybe Mom would have just told me to do my best, then rented a copy later so she could tell me what I'd done wrong." He chuckled. "I would have to say that the most embarrassing thing I can think of is my mother going out to get a copy of Shaving Ryan's Privates or something, so she could rate my performance."

Les chuckled. "It must have been nice to have that kind of support in your life. I never did. My family wasn't anywhere near as open-minded as your mom, that's for sure. My folks were very predictable. ‘You will go to college, you will go to church, you will not be gay or have gay thoughts.'" The humor left his voice and his posture became more rigid when he spoke of his parents.

Dex had always known he'd been lucky, especially when it came to his mom, but he sometimes forgot how fortunate. "I never knew how Mom was going to take anything. You remember what it was like to be a teenager and all you wanted to do was shock your parents? I'd do that, and Mom would look at me and say, ‘It's okay, I support you and will always love you.' Then the next day she'd decide that the upstairs bathroom needed painting and I'd walk in and get a surprise of my own when the walls were jet black… or neon yellow. The hall bathroom upstairs has been both at one time. I think it was her way of shocking me right back. And her offbeat decorating skills usually did the trick."

Les laughed out loud, his stance loosening. "She would do the funniest things. One time when I came into the store, she had the shelves pulled back from one of the walls and was painting it Barbie pink, just so she could see how it would look."

"That's my mom," Dex agreed.

"At least she liked color. My mother painted the entire house this off-white color. She called it Palest Peony or something, and every wall in every room was the same color, all through the house. I had to beg her to let me do my room in blue. She eventually let me, but only if I promised that if it didn't work out, I'd paint it back. The furniture was every shade of brown, and the carpet beige. It was like living in a forest in permanent winter. Mom's idea of adding color was bringing in black accents… because they went with everything." Les began to laugh. "My dad hated it. So for Christmas, he used to get her really bright knickknacks. They would be on display for a while and then suddenly they'd disappear." He smiled.

"You're kidding, right?" Dex asked. When Les shook his head, Dex added, "You should see the guest bedroom upstairs. It has this psychedelic wallpaper, as if the person who created it had done acid back in the sixties. I have no idea where Mom found it, but I'm surprised anyone who's stayed over hasn't suffered from seizures." He paused. "You know, that could be why Mom didn't get many guests. They'd stay one night and detour to the hospital on their way out of town."

Les shrugged, smiling. "You know what they say—after three days, both fish and guests begin to stink. Maybe it was her way of controlling the odor." He tilted his head adorably to the side, and Dex took a second to enjoy the view. Les had a strong jaw and an expressive face that pulled Dex in. His high cheekbones gave him an almost regal look, and yet his eyes danced with mischief. And he had a sense of humor, which was necessary… if just to get through the trials and tribulations of life. Dex had definitely needed one with his mother. She had sometimes been a handful.

"My mom's guest room…."

"Let me guess, slightly pinky off-white," Dex teased.

"Yup. I remember having a friend for a sleepover. I showed him into the room—he set down his bag and fell onto the bed, asleep instantly." He grinned and Dex rolled his eyes before chuckling lightly.

"So your mom was color-challenged. And mine was a color ninja, never afraid of anything." They approached the house, and Dex groaned as a couple went inside carrying a casserole dish. "I swear to God, the house is going to explode with all the grief food people are bringing." He patted his stomach, which did a little roll at the thought. "Want to hazard a guess as to the number of pounds of macaroni and cans of soup that have given their lives already?"

Les shook his head vehemently. "Not on your life." He patted Dex's shoulder, and heat spread through him from the touch. "I need to get home too. But I'll see you later at the store?" His gaze met Dex's, and Dex nodded but made no effort to move away. There was something incredibly attractive about being lost in those eyes, and he was in no hurry to return to reality. Les licked his lips, and just like that, Dex wondered how he tasted. Les was a feast for the eyes, and his musky scent wafted on the breeze. Dex swallowed hard, wishing for more, but there were limits to what he'd do with a guy he'd just met.

It was bad enough that Dex had done things he could never tell his mother in order to try to secure a role. He suppressed a shiver thinking about it. This wasn't Hollywood. Les was just a handsome guy. "I should go inside and make sure Jane isn't overwhelmed."

Les nodded, and Dex shook his hand, then forced himself to turn away from him and walk inside the house.