“Does it?” He had Mick, so yeah, things were better.
“Have you been targeted?” Remy asked. “Has anyone done shit to you?”
“No, not that I know of. I had one of my farmhands quit because his mother realized I’m gay.” He shifted in his seat. “My boyfriend’s co-worker made the big deal with the media or no one would be the wiser about my sexuality.”
“I’m sorry. It’s no one else’s business to make a big deal about anyone coming out.” Remy shook his head.
The frustration he’d held back came forth and threatened to overwhelm him. “I don’t get it. Jesus. My grandmother just died. I’m dealing with the guilt of being gone, not taking care of her and that I’m alone, but all anyone cares about is that I’m a former country musician who is gay. I’m a human being.” He should’ve kept his mouth shut, but the words bubbled out.
Remy nodded. “And I’m no better. I’m sorry. I should’ve been more thoughtful. Are you okay?”
“No. One day I feel sort of normal and human. The next, I’m lonely. One day, it’s not hard to face the farm and my life. The next day, I want to hide and forget I ever played music.” Evan shook his head. “It’s crazy.”
“But you can’t forget music.” Remy nodded again and tucked the notebook away. “I wanted to quit writing because I got depressed. I’m glad I found Bobby and he helped me turn everything around. He kept me going. I probably would’ve found my way back to writing, but it wouldn’t have felt right.”
“Yeah.” Remy sort of understood. “I’m not on that road yet.”
“Mick isn’t encouraging you?”
“He is, but I’m still raw.” Music was in his soul, but he’d work on it later. Right now, he had to get himself straightened out.
“It’ll get better. Think of your grandmother, how she made you happy and feel protected. She loved you, so merge those thoughts with how you feel about Mick,” Remy said. “It’ll help.”
“We’re just dating.” He wanted more from Mick, but he wasn’t sure Mick wouldn’t get tired of him and the attention he brought.
“Your eyes glitter when you talk about him.” Remy’s grin spread across his face. “He’s more than a date.”
“Yeah, he is.” He needed to confide in someone. “Do you know Mick?”
“He’s been in town as long as I have and had always been a stand-up guy.” Remy cocked his head. “Why?”
“We didn’t hit it off right away. He thought I was a jerk and I thought he hated me.” He laughed. “I thought he was bossy.”
“That tends to happen.” Remy sipped his coffee. “What happened next?”
“My grandmother, that’s what,” Evan said. “She told him to go after me.”
“Matchmaking Memaw. I had one of those. If she’d have met Bobby, she would’ve pushed us together,” Remy said. “But she never met him.”
“You get what I mean,” Evan said. “Then she died and he’s been there when I needed someone. At first, her pushing us together annoyed me, but now…it’s different.”
“Did you feel like he’d taken your place?”
“A little. I know she was close to Mick. He knew her so well and I’d been gone,” Evan said. “I called her every Friday, but he was there when I wasn’t.”
“You were living your life.”
“It’s made me feel guilty.” Did Remy care to hear his story? Would he add these details to his article? Evan hoped not.
“I know how you mean. It’s like you moved on and left that part of your life behind.”
“Yes.”
“I felt like that with my best friend, Darian. He wrote me saying he’d contracted AIDS. I never knew he was gay, but we stopped talking in college,” Remy said. “We just lost touch.”
“Yeah. It’s sort of like that. Mick was with my grandmother when she needed help and the cancer spiraled out of control.” The guilt threatened to overwhelm him. “Then when she died, I was there, but so was Mick. He’s been right beside me. He seems to care and understand.”
“Sounds great.”
“Mick handled her will and the terms of her trust,” Evan said.
“Ah.” Remy fiddled with his coffee cup. “What’s your concern? You sure sound like you’re trying to talk yourself out of the relationship or you’re trying to find a way to sabotage it.”
“I should be guarded around him and around you. I’m pouring my heart out without a filter,” Evan said. “That’s nuts.”
“Bobby would be proud. I’m the talker of our relationship.” Remy pushed the cup away. “So what are you worried about?”
“It’s not love, but I’m trying to shoehorn it. It feels like I’m pushing him into something he isn’t ready for—something he can’t give. I’m scared we’ll fall apart in a month when he has a new client.” That he doesn’t love me, too. “Or maybe I’m afraid it’ll be the love I need and I’m sure I don’t deserve.”
Remy leaned back in his seat. “Well, everything you’ve mentioned is possible. We don’t know what tomorrow might bring. We don’t know if our relationships will last because shit can hit the fan at any time. It’s possible we could all be alone.”
“You’re so helpful.” His heart sank. He should channel his feelings into a song. Maybe that would help.
“I’m trying to give you assistance.” Remy chuckled. “Here’s the thing. What you’re worried about might all come true, but it might not, also. This situation, crappy as it is, brought you together. It could be the glue that holds you close and keeps you going. I’ve never known Mick to be a cheater. In my line of work, I hear gossip. I’ve never heard anything about him that was negative. He’s a stand-up guy and I’m glad you’re together. He does make you happy.”
“You can tell that from the glint in my eye?” He doubted everything Remy said was possible.
“That and the way you’re worried. If Mick wasn’t important, you wouldn’t be freaked
