“Right.” Stacey grabs her purse and keys fromMarilyn’shood. Her eyes are wet, but she’s holding back. I feel strangely grateful that she’s not making it any harder. Over the years, I’ve had ex-lovers throw anything from bedside lamps to twelve-pound turkeys at me while screamingdickfaceandassholein the frozen foods section at theAnchor Point Marketdowntown. Steve Daley, the town librarian I hooked up with a couple of times a few years ago, even slashed my fucking tires outsideThe Tavern. It’s one thing if you come at me, but don’t mess with my girlMarilyn. She’s just an innocent bystander.
“See you around, Caleb.” Stacey passes me in the driveway and presses a quick kiss against my cheek. “You need a shave.”
I chuckle under my breath. She isn’t wrong, but it’s Saturday, and I can’t be bothered. I’ll probably just kick back for the rest of the day on the deck with a fewMillersand Bruce on the stereo singingBorn to Runlike that isn’t the fucking story of my life. I need to call Sal back, too, before he comes over and kicks my ass.
“Bye, Stace. For what it’s worth—”
“Don’t,” she throws out over her shoulder before she opens the door to herMitsubishi Mirageand gets in, slamming the door behind her. Within seconds, she’s gone, speeding through the cul-de-sac before she disappears around the corner toward town. My neighbor Ronald waves at me from across the street, where he’s pouring gas into his lawnmower. I wave back, then patMarilyn’shood with regret.Not today, baby girl.I walk back toward my house, the front door still open.
Inside the kitchen, I lean against the counter as I call Sal back.
“What the hell took you so long? Don’t tell me you didn’t end it with Stace after all,” he sighs through the phone. Sal’s my best friend, and I tell him everything. Poor guy, the amount of crap he’s had to listen to over the years. The guy deserves a fucking medal. Okay, so hestoleVivian from me in high school, but still…
I groan into the phone, and Sal laughs. “I did. Of course I did. What do you take me for?”
“Was she upset?”
“Nah… I don’t think I’ve messed up too badly. We’ll still get a discount down atWallace’sif that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Shut up,” Sal laughs again, but I know that’s what he was asking. Stacey is the general manager down at the hardware store where we order most of our paint from. Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t shit where you eat and all that. But it’s not like Barnacle Cove has an endless pool of guys and girls I can dip my toes into. You’ve gotta work with what you’ve got.
“Any news on the misplaced plywood?” I stare out the window facing the backyard. The grass is up to mid-calf now, and I ought to mow it. Spring was warmer than usual with a lot of rain, and it’s been hard to keep on top of everything. Sal and I have put in way more hours down at the shop lately because our custom sailboats are in higher demand than ever. During COVID, people took up a lot of outdoor activities, including sailing, and the trend has continued. Over the past year, we’ve hired five more employees. My love life might be in shambles, but professionally, I’m on a roll.
“Tuesday. It’ll be here Tuesday.”
“For fuck’s sake.” The headache intensifies at the thought of my day with beers and Bruce going south because I have to do damage control and send out emails to our clients, informing them about possible delays.Force majeureand all that shit.
“I know. Nothing we can do about it.”
Right.That’s Sal for you. He’s always been levelheaded and sensible. Even when he knocked up Vivian six months before graduation, he kept his cool. They were only eighteen when they had Kayden, and still, they managed to build a business and put Vivian through nursing school with a toddler on their hands. Of course, I helped where I could. Sunday afternoons at the park with a hyper three-year-old while Vivian studied for her anatomy exam and Sal worked a weekend shift at theLobster Lounge. Babysitting on the odd occasion when Sal dug deep in his pocket and took Vivian to the movies. I never minded, though. I love Kayden like he’s my own. How can you not? He’s an amazing kid. Well, not exactly a kid anymore. He’s twenty-two now.
“You coming over later? Viv’s cooking her famous chicken casserole.” Just when I’m about to make up some bullshit excuse, Sal raises the bet. “Kayden’s coming over. He’s been asking about you.” Kayden’s been home for a little over a week, but I’ve been too busy to see him. The last time I saw Kayden was at Christmas, and there were too many people around for me to really talk to him like we used to when we took a drive up the coast. I’ve missed him.
“Yeah? Sure, why not?” A smile tugs at my lips, and I think Sal can hear it too, because he laughs on the other end. “What?”
“So you’ll come for K but not for your old buddy Sal?”
I huff. “I’m coming for the chicken casserole, asshole.”
“Whatever. See you at seven. Don’t be late.”
“I’m never late.”
Now, Sal’s the one huffing because I’m always fucking late.
For the next couple of hours, I send out e-mails from my bed, and luckily, no one yells at me over the delay. I know our boats are worth the wait. Sal and I are unique in what we do; at least, that seems to be the consensus in the industry. One client even takes the opportunity to change his mind about the color. I put it down in our spreadsheet, then close the laptop and grab my phone. I openPulse, a queer hook-up app I joined before I started seeing Stacey. There’s just enough time to rub one out over some cutie before I hit the shower. Now that I’m solo again, it’s a good alternative to going out of town for a random fuck whenever the urge strikes.
My profile picture is a shot of my bulky, hairy chest, and it usually pulls in a few twinks who’re looking for a Daddy bear. I’m neither. I’m not into the whole role-play thing—not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just not sexually adventurous in any kind of way, but I do love a nice fleshy ass. One that you can bounce a nickel off or bury your whole face in.
I browse the profiles, but nothing catches my eye. I’m about to put away my phone when a notification pops up from an account I haven’t come across before.
dicKmedown:Wanna blow off some steam?
Okay. Straightforward. Just the way I like it. Sliding down in my bed, I type back.
BigOnBacks:Sure. What do you have in mind?
I know I don’t have the most creative username, but I might as well hint at the fact that I’m an ass man.