Sound it Out

SOUND IT OUT

"You can't kill my dwarf." Sorry, Mike. I did.

"Killed, and now I'm dancing on your grave."

"But… how did… are you cheating?" Pete knew better. Who needed to cheat? As the reigning champion, this was all skill.

I feigned a gasp. I spent the afternoon with three geeks from Firefly High, schooling them in the art of elven warfare. They stared at the card on the table, their disbelief scribbled across their faces. I might be the most uncool adult around, but I knew how to play the game.

"Should I explain it?" My eyebrows waggled up and down.

The store had been slow, and I loved having warm bodies in the shop. Sometimes, I found it hard to believe I had once been them, young, into dragons, elves, and magic. Heck, other than my age, I still felt like one of the gang. When Ricky asked if their club could meet here after school, I moved around racks and furniture to accommodate them.

"He's never going to let us live this down." Ricky shook his head, tossing his remaining cards on the table. "Please don't dance. Please don't?—"

I hopped up, pushing the metal chair back. It was less a dance and more of an interpretive victory cheer. All three hung their heads in shame. Someday, they'd be doing the same thing to their kids. It was only appropriate to pass the trauma from one generation to the next.

"Another game?" Mike collected the cards, shuffling them into a stack. "Maybe his highness will take pity on us."

We all froze at the sound of the bells from the door. Other than some loitering teens, my pubescent friends had been the only ones in the store. As much as I wanted to lay waste to their hopes and dreams, I suppose I should act like a real proprietor. Other than the recent issue of Goblins and Girls , these three weren't buying anything.

"Sorry, fellas, this is a job for royalty." I gave them a deep bow.

"Why do you always make it weird?" asked Mike.

"So weird," Pete added.

"Someday you'll find yourself a lady…" I eyed Pete, "or a lad." He blushed. There were no secrets at this table. "And then you can embarrass the hell out of your kids." They gave each other a fearful glance. It'd be years before they realized geeks ran the world. Until then, the thought of a date was almost as terrifying as my elven arrows.

I rode my victory. A little dance, a little shimmy. I straightened the action figures on the shelf as I worked my way to the front of the store. Stopping, I eyed the weather goddess in her box. I knew exactly where I'd place her in my house. No. I swore I wouldn't buy any more of my inventory. I gave the box a light touch, unable to resist. "Soon."

"You're in a chipper mood."

Tony Drummond, a descendant of Firefly's founding father. Every member of his family had been born, educated, and died here. He was one of the lucky ones who fell in love with the girl across the street and lived in domestic bliss.

"I just whooped some teenage ass."

"That's not the brag you think it is."

When somebody said Firefly, the image of Tony came to mind. The lumberjack stereotype existed for a reason. His gray overalls had sawdust on them, and the flannel coat with hoodie must have been at least ten years old. He reached up and pulled off the orange hat, complete with earflaps. I liked Tony. He had manners.

Tony also had a secret.

"Here for pickup?"

He glanced at the back of the store to make sure the kids weren't paying him any attention. It was endearing that this burly man could wield an axe, but a bunch of geeks had him on edge. When he nodded, I walked behind the counter and pawed through the orders I set aside.

"How's work?"

He let out a long sigh. Tony leaned on the counter. If I didn't know him, he'd make me nervous. A guy like him belonged in the bar or working on a car in the garage. Seeing him in a comic book store was almost unsettling.

"Winter's going to come early. It's going to make work miserable. Hopefully, we'll get the area cleared before the snow piles up."

"Want me to lend a hand?" I glanced over my shoulder and winked. "Give me a chainsaw and set me loose."

"Last thing we need is a one-armed comic store owner. But on a good note, it means ice fishing will be here in no time. I just got a new heater for the shack. You can always join me."

Ice fishing is the most boring activity in Firefly. I might be a big guy, but I wasn't built for snow. Or heat. This was strictly a fall body.

"If I show up to your ice shack with a six-pack of beer, you know the town will think we're banging."

"You could do worse." He gave me a wink. I couldn't help but crack up. I appreciated a man secure with his sexuality. He might look like the typical lumberjack, but he certainly didn't act like one.

"Nancy might object," I said.

"You'd think twice if you saw her search history."

I nearly choked. I had known Nancy my entire life. The prom queen and star cheerleader, she was the epitome of small-town royalty. Now, when I saw her, I'd giggle thinking about her double-clicking her mouse to the sight of men getting it on .

"Here we go." I pulled several issues from a box. "I added a couple to the reading list."

He glanced at the back of the store again. The kids were in the middle of a magical showdown and wouldn't notice if aliens attacked. I spun the comics around on the counter for him to check. He went to reach for them and paused.

"You sure?"

I flipped the comic open to the first page. "I think you're ready. And if you have questions…"

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his glasses. Glancing at the comic, he started reading. His lips mumbled the words as he jumped from one text box to the next. When his finger stopped at a word, I waited for him to look up.

"Dem-o-lih-ty-on."

"Li-shion," I corrected. He let out a low growl. "You're close."

Months ago, Tony would have thrown his hands in the air and stormed out. I had worked with young readers at the school. There were comics for every reading level, even for adults who never learned.

"Demo-li-shun. Oh. Demolition."

He cracked a smile. I looked away as he stood, trying to maintain some semblance of the ‘bro code.' When I first asked Tony if he could read, he had been furious. He had come back into the store a few days later, tail between his legs, and apologized. Having dropped out of school to work in the woods with his dad, reading had never been a priority .

"Think you can handle it?" I invoked the challenge.

"I think so." He had once admitted that Nancy helped him from time to time. She tattled on him about how he practiced before sitting down and reading them out loud to her. Now that I thought about it, Tony and Lucas weren't so different.

"If you like the story, let me know, and I'll set them aside for you." It wasn't as if he could read them. I had faith he'd get through them.

"Thanks." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a credit card. He didn't need to say anything else. I knew first-hand the power of words combined with images. It made me smile as he tucked the bag into his jacket and headed out. He'd never proclaim himself a geek, but I knew better.

My phone vibrated as I basked in the afterglow of a good deed. I picked it up and saw a text from Simon.

Simon: Is it wrong to admit I'm a little jealous?

I leaned over, looking through the front door to see Simon standing in the Bistro's window. He waved. I had a hankering for a late lunch.

Jason: Don't worry, he didn't get the back-room treatment.

Simon: I'd watch that.

Me too. I wandered through the store, heading back to the guys. I wanted to ask him out. Again. Had I already taken up too much of his time? How much was too much? I was getting in my head as I tried to think of a witty reply.

Jason: Dinner tonight?

Simon: After I put Lucas to bed? Good with you?

He was even cuter when he played the part of a loving father. If it meant another cooking session, I wouldn't say no.

Jason: Sure, dad.

Simon: That's daddy to you.

Woof. I thought about running out of the store and charging across the green to jump him. Running? He must know how to press my buttons if I considered that.

Jason: It's a date.

"So…"

"So…"

Julie sat in an oversized armchair, legs crossed under her. I had taken a perch on the couch on the opposite side of the living room. I had assumed another night of cooking up a storm in the kitchen. Her presence meant Simon wanted to go out. Did I mention we were going out for food to her? Did she know about the date? Even if I didn't confirm it, Julie wasn't dumb.

"You look uncomfortable," she said.

"You look uncomfortable!" Where did that come from? Before I could apologize, Julie laughed. "Glad I can amuse you."

"Did you buy him a corsage?" I didn't follow her question. "Cause you look as uncomfortable as my prom date last year."

I frowned. "I'll have you know; he's the one who bought the flowers."

Her body language changed at the mention of flowers. Had I just spilled the beans? Would the rest of Firefly know the moment we walked out the door? "That's soooooo sweet."

At first, I thought it might be sarcasm. She tossed herself back in the chair. "I can barely get Conner to commit to a date."

"If you ask me…" I couldn't believe I was about to dole out relationship advice. "The best ones don't require chasing. You run toward each other." I should write inspirational greeting cards.

The stairs creaked as Simon came down. I hope he hadn't heard my moment of maturity. However, the more I thought about it, the advice applied. Neither of us were running away. Simon had lived up to his motto about new experiences, and I reaped the benefits.

"Okay, Julie. Numbers are on the fridge. Lucas is out like a light. Should be a calm night. "

Simon lifted a hoodie from a peg on the wall and pulled it over his head. In giant green letters across the chest, "Boston." I had found the most handsome flatlander of them all. Julie gave us a nonchalant wave as I jumped off the couch, and we left the house.

"So, where can we get some food?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow. "At this hour? I assumed you were cooking."

"I wouldn't mind, but I thought it'd be nice to talk and let somebody else do the work."

"You know it's after eight." Under the porch light, his head leaned to the side, confused by the statement. "City boy, all of Firefly shuts down at eight. There won't be a single store open."

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I should have asked." He grew cuter as the fluster set in. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. He stared off into the yard. He stroked his beard while he thought. "Want to go for a stroll?"

For him, I'd ignore the rumbling in my belly. I could always make some Mac and cheese when I got home. I offered him my elbow as if we were making a grand entrance. Without missing a beat, he hooked his arm with mine, and we were off, walking across the yard.

When we reached the street, he veered us to the right. We were only a couple of blocks from downtown. It made sense to head toward the center of town. The side streets were lucky if they had a working streetlight. At least around the green, we'd be able to see more than five feet in front of our faces .

"I've been meaning to ask you," he started. "Why did you come back to Firefly after college?"

He skipped the formalities and went to the big question. As of late, I had been asking myself the same. Once I graduated, I could have gone anywhere, but something about Firefly drew me back. Once lured, it seemed leaving was damned near impossible.

"My family is kind of weird when it comes to Firefly. My great-grandmother was born here. But my mom's parents were born in Connecticut, and my mom in California. Me? I'm a birther. Born and raised. Other than school, this is home."

"Ever think of leaving?"

I hid my surprise. His hand slid down my arm until he held my hand. I didn't want to spoil a perfectly good evening by revealing how much I thought about leaving. I didn't want Simon to think his courting efforts were being wasted.

"It's crossed my mind. Mostly because college proved there's more to life than Firefly. I'd be happy if this could be homebase between my travels to exotic locations."

"How exotic?"

"One time in high school, the French class went to Quebec City." I shrugged. "I'm pretty sure that makes anywhere exotic."

"Tu parles fran?ais?"

"You speak French?" I shouldn't be surprised. What couldn't this man do ?

"A chef I worked for was from Paris. I had to learn so I knew why he was yelling at me."

"That sounds… hostile."

"It's the kitchen life."

"I only took the class for the trip. Quebec City is beautiful. I think if I could go anywhere, I'd want it to be old. There's something nifty about modern people living in these historic locations."

"The comic shop in the mill is making sense."

I hadn't given it any thought. The mills were the oldest buildings in Firefly. I always enjoyed seeing the giant red brick structures when I drove into town. Even now, I could see the top of the buildings coming into view. It did indeed make sense. I got to run my shop in the oldest building in town. Something about that realization made me smile.

"Greece? Italy? Could see a castle or two outside of London."

He dropped the names as if it were as simple as getting online and booking a hotel. Maybe? I wouldn't know. Living this far north, things got complicated. Driving to the airport could take a couple hours, then hopping a plane depended on the weather. The moment I thought of all the moving parts, I had to ask myself if the hassle was worth the reward?

"Iceland." The word surprised even me.

"Really? Not what I thought you'd say."

"It's kind of like Maine. It's cold as hell for half the year. Bar Harbor is filled with fishermen, so it's kind of the same. "

"But different," he said.

"Yeah. It'd be like a warped mirror. Don't forget they live on a volcano. I kind of want to see a volcano."

Truthfully, I'd be happy seeing any part of the world. Short vacations would scratch my itch for something more. When I got tuckered out and visited all the tourist destinations, then I could come back to Firefly. It'd be the best of both worlds. Culture and comfort, that's the life I wanted to lead.

We stood at the south side of the green, able to look at the length of the park. Black poles reached upward, each holding a lantern with a flickering bulb. I hadn't wandered around downtown at night in years. Without the many characters of Firefly, the town had a beautiful peace to it. I almost expected it to snow just to complete the small-town charm.

"Australia."

The word broke my reverie. I turned my attention to Simon. "Really?" It was on the other side of the planet. My brain barely accepted it as a reality. I had never met somebody from Australia, and other than movies, I knew nothing about the country. I loved Firefly, but there were entire worlds outside our borders.

"Why Australia?" I asked.

Simon took my hand as we crossed the street. We followed a winding path in the green, peppered with street lights. We could have walked through the park in a matter of minutes, but we moved at a snail's pace. I didn't want to reach a destination and have that be the end of the night. My pace slowed as I tried to drag out the evening.

"I almost moved there when I was younger. A chef I worked for had opened a restaurant and offered me a job. I couldn't bring myself to uproot my entire life and move."

"You want to find out if you made the right choice?"

"Restaurants are a brutal business. He didn't make it three years. No doubt about it, I made the right choice. But I still wonder, what if? I figure I owe it to myself to close some doors and say I did it."

"I want to see a koala in the wild."

He chuckled at the statement. "When Lucas is a little older, it'll happen." He bumped into me. "I wouldn't mind some company."

Were we making plans for years down the road? Or was this one of those polite things people said and never expected to happen? Either way, I grinned. Simon thought about a future with me? It shook the chill from my body and warmed my heart.

"Why did you leave Boston? I'm sure you could have been a dad in the city."

The question had been on my mind. I knew he wanted more time with Lucas, but he could do that anywhere. There had to be more to the story. Everybody who found themselves in Firefly had a story that brought them here. Sharing was the price of admission.

"Lucas, you know about. Have you watched a lot of chef shows?"

I shook my head .

"The nicer the restaurant, the more intense the kitchen. I tried not to yell like in the shows… but… tempers flare. Even on our best nights, it always felt like we had gone to war and come back battered. The hours were miserable, and what little time I got to spend with Lucas, I felt like I fell short."

I squeezed his hand. "From where I'm standing, you're shooting for the Dad-of-the-Year award."

"I feel calmer. I'm still in the kitchen, but right now, it's just me. I'm the king of the castle. I'm still exhausted when we close, but it's from a hard day's work. I still have the energy to be the dad Lucas deserves."

"He's a lucky kid."

"I'm a lucky dad."

He slowed his pace. Pulling at my arm, we took a side path that'd lead us to… Bistro on Maine? I felt that my partner in crime had conspired without me.

"What's going on?"

He smiled. "I promised you dinner. Dammit, you're getting dinner."

Simon shot me a mischievous smirk. I would have followed him to the ends of the Earth, or at least to Australia.

"Why cooking?"

I waved my hand over the dancing flame. The Bistro on Maine was pitch black except for a single candle in the middle of the table. When I went to flip on the lights, he caught my hand, saying he had something more romantic in mind. He claimed the vanilla scent would open my senses to his culinary masterpiece. I called hogwash, but it was still romantic.

"Cooking is an experience. I don't know how, but I'm good at it. So why not share my gift with the world?"

"That's why you do it now . Why did you do it at the beginning ?"

He pushed the swinging door open, the light flooding the dining room. In the silhouette, I couldn't see his face, but I expected him to shoot me some over-the-top tale.

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

He ducked back into the kitchen, the door swinging back and forth. I hadn't expected confusion. He struck me as a man who did everything with purpose. I appreciated the honesty. Simon continued to teach me that not all of us have an origin story at a young age.

"When I was a kid, I had difficulty connecting with people."

I smiled as I picked up the candle, swirling the warm wax around the edges. It made sense. Now, I understood his approach with Lucas. Their challenges with other kids might be different, but it sounded as if he channeled that into his role as a dad. With each additional layer revealed, I found myself more fascinated.

"You're going to need to explain."

There was a silence other than metal smacking against metal in the kitchen. My stomach rumbled as I imagined what delicacies he had prepared. Right now, I'd be happy with a granola bar. That's when I knew I was ravenous.

"I was popular, I guess. I had a big group of friends, but they weren't people I'd talk to unless it revolved around school. Though, I didn't have an Amanda." I didn't dare tell him that Amanda knew about the office. "Then my grandmother made a meal, and I realized it tasted… odd. She had been angry all day about a fight with a neighbor. Without saying a word, I could taste it. When she cooked for just me, she always went the extra mile, and there was love in every bite."

Imagining him at a table, swinging his feet while he waited for food, might very well be the cutest thing ever.

"I didn't always have the words, but I didn't need them when I cooked. I spoke with food. And when you see that look of satisfaction, it says more than a simple ‘good job.'"

"If you get any cuter, we're going to have a problem."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm threatening your zipper."

The door opened and Simon stood there, knife raised in the air. It could very well have been a scene from a horror movie. There'd be shrill music, and then he'd chase me onto the green. I was too hungry for running. Just kill me and get it over with.

Simon set a plate in front of me. At first, I thought it was a good ol' fashioned sandwich. When he rested the knife down the middle, I could hear it scrape the crust. Just before cutting, he changed the angle of the blade. "Diagonals show you care. "

He cut the sandwich, and the cheesy goodness hit my nostrils. My stomach growled in reply, demanding I shove it in my face hole. With a flick of the blade, the sandwich split apart, and the gooey goodness spread across the plate.

"Grandma's grilled cheese."

"In these here parts, we called it a ‘toasted cheese.'"

"Grandma would raise from the grave and slap that abomination out of your mouth."

I snickered.

"Sorry, it's nothing fancy. The deliveries come in tomorrow." It might not be fancy for him, but it didn't diminish my respect for the chef. The diagonal cut only made it more endearing. I didn't need to have a bite to know it'd taste delicious.

"Is being a chef like in the reality shows?"

His head bobbed back and forth as he mulled over the answer. I couldn't see him shouting at the staff for every minor infraction. Would he throw the plate across the kitchen for undercooked meat?

"Let's say I'm happy to be out of a five-star restaurant. The food might have been amazing, but the stress…" He trailed off as he stared at the flame. "I didn't like being that man. I didn't like that I could be that man. A small kitchen and slower pace is better for my mental health."

"Would you consider hiring people to help in the back?"

"Jason, you can cook a good scallop, but I don't think you're ready for my kitchen." He shot me a wink. I wanted to grab him by the beard and plant a kiss on his face. "Maybe with a few more lessons. "

"I'll have you know. I'm the master of microwave popcorn."

He gasped. "Eat your food while I plot how to steal your microwave."

I picked up a slice to see it was already light-years beyond my cooking prowess. Sourdough bread? Okay, this might be better than my white bread sandwiches. Before I took a bite, I could smell… cheese. That didn't happen when it came from a wrapper. I took a bite, and the moment it hit my tongue, I let out a moan.

"Oh, my God. I've died and gone to heaven."

Simon took the other slice and had a bite. While I had a mouthgasm, he had a discerning expression. "I think it might need more gruyere. Not so much rosemary."

"Go make me more," I demanded. Another bite in, and I decided I'd never cook again. I'd spend every meal at the Bistro, and I'd live in bliss with unlimited grilled cheese sandwiches. "There will be a review online for this."

I devoured the sandwich. My stomach stopped grumbling, satisfied with the meal. Would it be rude to make him go into the kitchen to make another? Could he teach me? No, he couldn't do that, or I'd never leave my house.

"You like?"

"Did I not moan loud enough?"

He snorted. "Next time, I'll make sure we go somewhere special."

Since we were on the topic of cheese. I reached across the table, holding out my hand until he gripped it with his paw. "Spending the night with you is all the special I need." Yes, I felt as gooey as the sandwich.

"I didn't expect to meet anybody when I moved up here. I didn't expect to…"

"Fuck in my office?"

"Eloquently put. No, that wasn't on my to-do list." He squeezed my hand. "I'm… happy? Yeah, I think I'm happy. It's been so long, I forgot what content feels like." His eyes shimmered from the light of the candle. It accentuated the laugh lines and crow's feet, and when he smiled, they deepened. "I'm glad it happened."

"If I jerk off to the memory anymore, I'm going to chafe."

The laughter came out in a roar. He leaned back in the seat, his entire body shaking as he laughed. How did I get this lucky? A handsome bear cooking me dinner and laughing at my jokes? When I got home, I'd have to add it to my vision board.

"I'm glad I'm not alone," he said. "I guess we'll have to do that again."

"Or we could…"

His eyes widened. "Here? The health code inspector wouldn't like that."

"He can watch." I paused while he looked about the Bistro, stopping at the biggest table in the dining room. Simon made me laugh. The facial expressions and the consideration he showed as he looked for a flat surface. Everything about him made me… happy. "I was joking. We can save it for another night. "

"You have more self-control than me."

A lie if I ever heard one. "While imagining you naked is a priority in my mind… topic switch. Tomorrow night, you want to see what Firefly is all about?"

"Jason, are you asking me on a date?"

The town might be postcard-perfect from the outside, but Firefly had a reputation for getting rowdy once a month. I wasn't sure he could handle it, but it'd go a long way toward endearing him to the locals. He'd either love it or run screaming.

"Simon Peterson, would you accompany me tomorrow night?"

"Why Jason Cowan, I would love to." He raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Have you ever played Bingo?"

He hid his face as he laughed. I didn't need to ask. Nobody had ever suggested a date for one of the lamest games in the world. I played every month, but I really went to schmooze it with people. In a town that closed at sunset, Simon would get to see how we entertained ourselves.

"Get your game face ready."