Rattlesnake (16 page)

T
HE
AFTERNOON
went quickly. Jimmy tackled a variety of small chores and worked off a pancake or two with his frequent trips up and down the stairs. Grisel accepted his previous day’s offer to help; they moved a heavy dresser so she could thoroughly clean behind it. “I don’t bother with that too often,” she said. “But if I have a strong man nearby, I’m gonna take advantage.”

“Anytime.”

He resisted the urge to snoop around Shane’s apartment as he did his laundry. But when he went to retrieve his clothes from the dryer, he was struck by an idea. And after taking the clothing to his room and fetching his wallet, he hurried to the lobby.

He waited for Belinda to finish checking in a chatty young couple from Germany who were very excited to be visiting the authentic American West. Before they carried their suitcases to their room, she loaded them with brochures, maps, and advice on what to see. Jimmy realized that she loved her job, which was a bit of a revelation. He’d assumed she had become an innkeeper out of a sense of duty to familial tradition.

“That alarm clock in 203 is a goner,” he told her after the Germans left. “Is there a replacement somewhere?”

“I believe so, down in the basement. I think next week I’d like you to do an inventory down there, actually. I haven’t had time to do that in ages.”

I’ll be gone by next week
, he thought. “Sure. Do you mind if I take a break now?”

She glanced at the large grandfather clock near the stairs: 6:45. “That’s fine, James.”

He’d noticed the Asian Pearl restaurant during his walks. It was two blocks down, between a women’s wear boutique and a place that sold country-themed home décor. He hoped the food was better there than at Rattlesnake’s other Chinese place, which Shane had already warned him about. With most of his hundred bucks still remaining, he ordered way too much food. But he figured leftovers were a good thing. Shane could have them for dinner the next day too.

When he returned to the inn, Shane stood in the lobby, talking to Belinda. He perked up visibly when he saw Jimmy with his bag of fragrant food. “Not Jade Garden, I hope.”

“Asian Pearl.”

“Good choice.”

“I, uh, have plenty to go around.”

Shane beamed.

Belinda waved off Jimmy’s offer to share. “I’m on a diet,” she explained.

Shane kissed her cheek. “You always say that, but you’re beautiful just the way you are.” She blushed, which Jimmy guessed was a rare event.

In Shane’s apartment, over heaping plates of mu shoo pork, asparagus beef, and garlic chicken, Shane conveyed most of Belinda’s life story. She’d been wild in her youth—which Jimmy found hard to picture—but had settled down when she fell in love with Emilio and the inn, pretty much both at the same time. She was devastated when Emilio died young. “But you know what?” Shane asked, his eyes sparkling. “She and Hank had a thing for each other, back in high school, and lately I’m pretty sure a spark or two has been flying between them.”

“Is that why she brokered the deal with my car?”

“Well, that’s why Hank was so willing. I think she would have done it anyway, out of principle. She likes to negotiate. She always insists on going with my parents when it’s time for them to buy a new truck, and then they sit back while she terrifies the salesman. And she’s the one who got my folks such a great price when they bought Jesse’s dad’s land.” There was something sad about his smile. “The Littles had been coveting that land for a hundred years. It almost doubled the size of our ranch.”

Jimmy didn’t ask who Jesse was. “Aunt Belinda’s a good person to have on your team.”

Shane nodded and used his fork to push some asparagus around on his plate. “Who’s on your team, Jimmy?”

“I’m more an individual-sport kind of guy.” Jimmy’s smile probably wasn’t any cheerier than Shane’s had been.

And based on his piercing gaze, Shane wasn’t the least fooled by it. “Where’s your family?”

“Dead.”

“All of them?”

“It wasn’t like with you. Just… just a few of us. And they’re all gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Shane said, frowning.

“Don’t waste time feeling bad for me. It was a long, long time ago.” Fuck. Close to thirty years.

“And you never wanted to… well, not replace them, because you can never really replace someone who’s gone. But after a while, you get tired of that vacancy in your heart and you start to think you might want to let someone new in.”

Jimmy wondered if Shane was referring to the loss of Tom or someone else. “I appreciate the hotel analogy and all, but that’s not me. I’m—”

“A lone wolf. King of the road. I know.”

Jimmy shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “A man can’t change his nature.”

“Guess not. As long as it really
is
his nature and not just something he feels like he’s forced to do.”

“It is. And nobody forces me to do anything.”

“Because if they try, you just walk away.”

“Exactly.”

“Right.” Shane stood with a grunt, collected their dirty dishes, and took them to the sink. “Leave the leftovers here. Now that you have a key to my place, you can come in anytime to use the kitchen or washer or whatever. Or just to take a bath.” He grinned over his shoulder.

Jimmy stood too and gathered the half-empty white cartons. He closed them and tucked them into the fridge, which he couldn’t help but notice was mostly empty except for sandwich fixings. A paper taped to the freezer contained a grocery list in that same schoolteacherish handwriting.

Shane noticed Jimmy staring at the list. “After the accident, I could never have managed without my family. I’d have….” His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. “You know, the doctors, they were talking about putting me in one of those
places
. Where old people and broken people go and wait to die.” His words tore little divots in Jimmy’s heart.

“You’re not broken,” Jimmy said.

“I was. Nowadays I’m mostly repaired, with a few cracks left.” He traced one of the scars on his face. “But I’d have been Humpty Dumpty without the family. They…. Healing was hard, hard work. Lots of times I was ready to give up, but they wouldn’t let me. I’d curl up in bed and want to be alone, but then one of my relatives would show up and be such a huge pain in the ass that I had to get out of bed just to get away from them. When I realized I couldn’t work at the ranch anymore, that I was never gonna be the man I used to be, they showed me I could be someone new.”

“You’re a good man,” Jimmy said. “I bet you always were.”

Shane shrugged that away. “Who backs you up when you need it?”

“I wasn’t almost killed in an accident, Shane.”

Shane looked at him, then dropped his eyes to the dish towel he was twisting tight. “Maybe not,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t mean nothing broke you, though.” He put down the towel and left.

T
HAT
NIGHT
Shane came into Jimmy’s room after closing the bar. When he climbed into bed, he smelled of beer and coffee and the polish he used on the counter. Good smells. Jimmy snuggled against his bare body and sighed.

“Don’t mind me waking you up?” asked Shane.

Jimmy reached between them to grasp Shane’s hardening cock. “Not when you wake me up with this.” He stroked lazily. “Busy night?”

“Not really. Tomorrow will be busier, and Saturday. But not as much as next weekend, ’cause we’ll have live music then. The joint gets hopping for that.”

“I guess people like a little entertainment on weekends.”

“Mhmm.” Shane snuffled Jimmy’s hair, then licked under his ear.

They made out for a while, their hands slowly wandering. Jimmy was sleepy and maybe Shane was too, but their movements brought a sense of lethargic pleasure that felt unusual to Jimmy—and oddly satisfying. Eventually, though, their caresses became more goal-directed. Shane wrapped his big hand around both their shafts while Jimmy breached him with one damp finger. Their climaxes were long and slow. No fireworks, just bone-deep shudders and a few quiet gasps.

Afterward, Jimmy didn’t even have the energy to clean up. He accepted a final kiss and pat on the ass from Shane, who tucked him in before pulling on his clothes. Jimmy was asleep before he heard the door close.

H
E
DIDN
’
T
leave Friday morning because that was french toast day. After he and Shane ate together, Jimmy spent several hours dealing with a plugged toilet and a broken curtain rod and moving furniture for Grisel and Candy. They seemed to enjoy chatting with him while they worked, either plugging him for information he didn’t give or sharing bits of gossip about guests or the townspeople.

“So you and Shane…,” Candy said, leaning on her broom handle.

“Yeah?”

“Are you, like, together?”

Jimmy sighed. “No.”

“But you like boys, right?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Well, it don’t matter to
me
. I been married twice, got one kid from each of them, and I’ve had enough. I got my babies and that’s all
I
need.” She didn’t show any inclination to actually use the broom so he could replace the armoire and get on with his day. “But I’m asking ’cause Shane’s a real sweetheart, you know?”

“I do know.”

“And he deserves a somebody, but it’s gotta be a somebody who’s gonna be good for him.”

Jimmy agreed. “I’m not good for anyone.”

She leaned the broom against her body and adjusted her ponytail. “Well, I don’t know your story, but you don’t seem too bad. You been doing what you say you’re gonna do, at least. And you did a real nice job in that bathroom. Plus you ain’t noisy or messy, and you’re real polite.”

Right now, he politely wanted to wring her neck. He hated being stuck in a conversation like this. He gave her a small smile and hoped she was done with him. And apparently she was, because she grunted and started moving the dust around. But she and Grisel must have had a tag team thing going, because five minutes later, he was in another room, listening to Grisel bemoan Rattlesnake’s shortage of gay social life.

“Yasmin—that’s my second daughter—she’s a
lesbiana
, yes? She grew up here, but she went to college in Berkeley and now she don’t come ’round here no more. Says Calaveras County isn’t gay friendly.” She snorted.

“Nobody seems to mind that Shane’s gay.”

“Ah, some
ojetes
hassled him when he first told people. But he used to be big and strong, yeah? After he beat a few of them bloody, the rest left him alone. Nobody important cares.”

Shane had said the same thing, but it was good to hear confirmation. It wasn’t just his relatives who had his back. “The locals aren’t as tolerant of your daughter?”

Grisel waved a hand. “Nobody cares who Yasmin sleeps with. Least I know none of those girls will get her pregnant. She just thinks now she’s too
sofisticada
for us.”

Jimmy winced a little, remembering the last words his brother Devin ever said to him. Jimmy had been sixteen and on his own for a while already. In a misguided moment, he’d tracked his brother down, hoping Devin would let him stay for a bit. Devin was twenty-two and had graduated from junior college—a level of education unheard of in Jimmy’s stunted family tree. He had a girlfriend, a good job, a neat little house just outside of a fancy neighborhood. He’d stood in the doorway, looking Jimmy up and down, and then shook his head.
We don’t have any extra room.
He’d glanced nervously up and down the street as if checking to see if his neighbors watched.
You need to go. You don’t belong here.

“You okay, Jimmy?” Grisel asked, startling him from the memory.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

When the cleaning ladies were done with him, Jimmy had to help a guest open a suitcase with a stuck lock, remove a nasty scuff mark left by a different guest on the upstairs hallway wall, and deal with a rattling air vent cover in a downstairs room. By then it was getting too late to hitch a ride out of town, and besides, Shane had a pizza to share. Shane had to work late that night—the bar stayed open until two on Fridays and Saturdays—and Jimmy sat at the counter almost until closing time, drinking coffee and eating popcorn. They didn’t have sex that night, but Shane stopped in just long enough to kiss him good night. Which was absurd. And really nice.

Saturday turned out to be busy at the inn. Lots of people checking out or checking in, which meant more people to complain about malfunctioning lights, recalcitrant plumbing, or other minor disasters. Sometimes Belinda asked him to carry guests’ luggage to their room when they were staying upstairs and their suitcases were heavy. He had no idea why some folks couldn’t go away for a weekend without packing more things than he owned.

The bar was too busy for Shane to escape for a meal, so Jimmy made sandwiches and brought them to the counter. Only as he was delivering them did he realize that Charlie was in the bar too, along with a handsome man Jimmy guessed was her husband. She watched, narrow-eyed, as Shane took a big bite of ham and cheese, limped around the counter, and kissed the side of Jimmy’s head—much to the amusement of the other patrons. But before Jimmy left to check in with Frank, who’d said something about a chirping smoke detector, Charlie gave Jimmy a hesitant little wave. He waved back.

If Shane visited Jimmy that night, Jimmy was too wiped to wake up.

Sunday morning, Jimmy went down to the basement with several printed lists Belinda had given him. She wanted him to begin a thorough inventory, and he figured he might as well attempt some organization while he was down there. His previous forays in search of supplies had been time-consuming and had resulted in the occasional discovery of items that might have dated to Rattlesnake Murray’s days.

But he’d barely begun the job when he heard slow, uneven footsteps descending the stone stairs. He’d become familiar with that sound these past days, so he wasn’t surprised when Shane appeared around the corner.