2 Chapter 2

“What do you do when you’re not taking your mom shopping?” Rowan asked him.

“I write gay romance novels,” Chase told him. The beautiful eyes of ice blue framed by long black lashes opened wide in surprise. Chase blushed, again.

“I didn’t even know there was such a thing as gay romance novels.” Rowan left eyebrow moved up toward his forehead. Chase reached into the cart and put more of the groceries onto the conveyor. “Actually a lot of women read them along with gay men. But they are very popular, there are several e-publishers that are exclusively devoted to LGBT novels and most of the other online publishers carry a title or two a month. It’s currently a lucrative market.”

“Must be nice to be able to work from home,” Rowan said.

“That is if I ever get to work.” The manager came back and the can was priced correctly. His mother was about to argue when Chase said, “It was the French cut beans that were on sale. You put that can back on the shelf.”

“Can you go and exchange…”

“No, Mom. The difference in price is five cents. If you put your glasses on, you would have seen that. I’ll give you the nickel, let’s get out of here.” Chase put the last of the groceries on the belt.

“Before you leave, why don’t you give me your number, maybe we can share a beer sometime?” Rowan handed Chase his phone.

“That’s a good idea,” Chase handed his phone to Rowan. The two men exchanged numbers.

“Chase…you were complaining that we took too long. Now, I’m waiting for you.” She tapped her foot on the textured vinyl floor.

Rowan whispered, “That’s why my dad’s in Albuquerque and I’m here.” He winked. “I’ll call you.”

Chase grabbed the waiting cart. His mother put the plastic bags in the cart without tying the tops. Groceries spilled out of the bags to rattle around the bottom of the cart. Chase pulled out of the checkout line annoyed at himself for not watching her. He stood in front of the cashier’s station putting the groceries back into the bags and loosely tying the top.

“Don’t tie them too tight, I reuse the bags.” Chase’s mother scolded.

“Mom, enough already, you want to go to the bakery, we’ll go to the bakery. After that, I’m finished for the day. I’m arranging for driving lessons for you on Monday. I’ve had my fill.” His voice was firm. His mother looked dismayed.

“You know I’m afraid to drive.” Edith whined.

“That’s why we’re going to hire the best school in the area, they’ll teach you so you won’t have to be afraid.” Chase steered the cart toward the exit. “And if you don’t agree, we start looking at assisted living facilities which have the time and the means to chauffer you around.” They got out of the store and Chase looked around for the car.

“I’m only fifty-five,” she wailed.

“Then don’t act as if you’re eighty,” Chase said harshly.

“All right,” his mother said in a small voice. “I won’t be such a bother to you.” She sniffed a full-on sniff and her eyes got teary.

Chase sighed. He used the remote to open the hatchback of his silver Prius and started piling the bags inside. Chase had no idea what she did with all of the groceries she bought. She lived alone and he generally took her out to eat when he went over to her condo. He opened the passenger side of the car for her and she settled herself on the seat. Closing the door he circled the car, got in and started the engine. They hybrid engine started right up and Chase headed to the bakery, hopefully, the last stop of the day.

* * * *

Rowan Teasedale got into his phantom black Audi A-6 with his veal parmesan dinner and baguette and drove from Wegmans to his home in Interlaken. He enjoyed speaking to the man he met in the checkout line. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes either. He had sandy blond hair that flopped down on his forehead. Rowan liked that his hair was soft and that he didn’t have the greasy look that most hair products bestowed on fine hair. He had beautiful green eyes. Rowan had a feeling that with Chase, what you saw was what you got.

He unlocked the door and his cell phone rang. Dropping his dinner on the counter, Rowan tapped his Bluetooth. Glancing at the cell he dug out of his pocket he said, “Hi, Marty.”

“I haven’t heard from you in a while so I thought I’d give you a call, what’s new?”

“You know I quit the job at the brokerage and I’m starting as a professor in the Mathematics Department at Monmouth University for the summer semester?” Rowan didn’t remember if he told Marty that. It was a strange relationship. Marty was his ex-live-in lover, but they remained best friends.