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Josiah’s eyebrows jumped. “Really?”
“Sure. I remember trying to keep shit in a minifridge in college, and after we packed in the beer, there wasn’t a lot of room left for real food. Especially if the ice monster took over.”
“Ice monster?”
“Yeah, you know how sometimes in those fridges the freezer part just ices over and crowds out everything else? My college roommate and I used to call that sucker the ice monster. We’d have to let the fridge he brought defrost in the dorm showers every other month. Lost a lot of Hot Pockets to that monster.”
“I bet.” Josiah laughed again. “I will beware of the ice monster. But I don’t plan on stocking any beer, so I should be okay on space to start. I appreciate the offer and since old habits die hard, I will probably still be making slow cooker meals. And sharing them with you guys. You’re not technically my roommates, since we’re under different roofs, and I will possibly be exchanging work for part of the rent, but I like to share food. Feeding people makes me happy.”
“And this boy loves to be fed,” Dad joked, breaking the seriousness of the conversation with his peal of laughter, and jacked his thumb at Michael. “You share what you can. Not like he can cook all that good. Except maybe French toast.”
Michael made an exaggerated eye roll. “I can cook fine in a pinch, I’m just not used to it. Kenny usually—” He stopped, not used to bringing up his ex around, well, anyone in his life here. “I didn’t really cook much, but my delivery app game was on point. Not many options for that around here.”
“You young’uns and your apps. Can’t just go do things, you gotta have an app for it all.”
“If it helps,” Josiah said to Dad, “I’ve never used a delivery app, either. I still only use my cell for basic things like phone calls, Solitaire and checking out ebooks from the county library system.”
“Nothin’ wrong with the basics, son. Only reason I got one of those monthly flip phones is because I got a flat once out in the middle of the county, didn’t have my spare tire, and I ended up walking five miles to the nearest neighbor. About wore out my boots and my legs that day.”
As Dad and Josiah began debating the merits of cell phones, Michael leaned back and listened. It was familial in a nice way, while also familial in a way that made him jealous. The pair obviously got along well and were at ease enough to tease each other. So different from the politeness that coated every interaction Michael had with his dad. But neither one of them was ready to really discuss the issues between them. Or what had happened the day before Michael left Weston for nearly two decades.
Part of Michael wanted to discuss it. Dad’s stroke had scared him. The idea of his father dying before they cleared the air hurt his heart. Addressing that air and all the drama in it? It scared him on a very different level. The level of a son who still wanted a reason to love his dad.
“Michael?”
He startled, nearly spilling coffee on his hand. “What?”
Josiah’s calm smile soothed the feathers ruffled by Michael’s stray thoughts. “I asked your dad if you’d like me to leave the slow cooker here in the house, so I can prepare evening meals for you both. It’s no trouble.”
“Oh.” Michael looked at Dad, who gave him a slight nod, on board with the idea. “That’s fine, but we’ll obviously contribute to the groceries for meals you want to share with us. Help with meals is great, but we don’t expect you to cook for us. That’s not part of the conditions of renting the trailer.”
“I just want to earn my keep.”
“Like I said, we’ll negotiate all that. Trailer rent against your pay for helping Dad, any meals you help with, we’ll figure it out. It hasn’t even been a full day for you, Josiah. We don’t have to know it all right away.”
Josiah held his gaze for a long moment that seemed to stretch out and out...until Josiah blinked. “Thank you. And thank you again for brunch. And my stuff. I suppose my impulse to keep all those moving boxes was a good one.”
“It made things a bit easier. We didn’t have to tear through McBride’s house looking for his stash of plastic grocery bags to haul everything out in.”
“Under the kitchen sink.” Josiah cleared his throat. “Um, if you both don’t mind, I need to finish going through those boxes and organizing things. Plus a grocery list for later. Toiletries and stuff, too.”
“Sure, that’s fine. If you need help with anything, let me know. Dad will be fine on his own for half an hour.”
Something odd flickered in his eyes. “Of course. You’re, um, obviously free to stop by at any time. I’m sure I’ll see you both soon.”
Michael didn’t say anything while Josiah took his coffee mug into the kitchen, then left quietly out the front door. He wanted to go after Josiah and ask him questions, ask more about what his life had been like with McBride, but he didn’t want to stress Josiah out more by being nosy—or make Dad suspicious about Josiah’s sexuality. Michael was only guessing himself, based on what he’d seen at McBride’s house.
“I don’t know much outside of ranching and metalwork and junk,” Dad said, “but I do know when things aren’t right. And things aren’t right between Josiah and the sheriff.” Michael looked over, working hard to keep his surprise off his face. “You keep an eye on Josiah, hear me? He’s a good boy.”
“I agree, Dad,” Michael replied. “I’ll do my best.”
“Good lad. Now, go find something else to do and let me watch my movie.”
“You’ve probably already seen it five times.”
“So?”
Dad’s perfectly deadpan response made Michael laugh as he stood and took his coffee mug into the kitchen for a refill.
