Burlington is the closest thing we have to a real city, and it’s worth an hour's drive from Colebury. I've been coming here two days a week for the last two years for school. That's going pretty well—I’ve liked all my classes, and I've been tapping the alumni network to find freelance design jobs.
I’m on summer break, though, so Roddy and I are here just for the hell of it.
Cash is still tight, but date night happens anyway. Roddy loves to get out, and I love to make him happy. I still pick up Busy Bean shifts sometimes just for pocket money.
At the moment, my date is slyly tucking his credit card into a bill wallet that I never saw arrive at our table. “Sweetheart, did you just trick me into watching a kid on a unicycle so you could grab the check?”
He gives me a cheeky grin. “I’m just using all the resources available to me.”
“But you bought last time,” I argue.
He shrugs. “Can I ask you a serious question? Why do we do this?”
“Why do we argue about the check? Because you’re a conniving troublemaker.”
He hands the bill wallet off to the waitress before turning back to me with a thoughtful expression. “Why do we have separate accounts at all? Why don’t we just make a joint bank account and stop dividing all the bills in half? Isn’t it time?”
Whoa. I pick up my beer and drain it, readying my arguments. We can’t do that. Well, really we could. It’s too complicated… Eh. It would actually be simpler.
When you get right down to it, I really have only one true objection. “But I don’t make as much money as you do. How will I know if I’m paying my way?”
He shakes his head at me. “You pay your way every day. That’s the point. I don’t really care if your bank deposits aren’t as regular as mine.” Since Roddy has continued to grow in usefulness to Zara’s and Audrey’s various businesses, his paycheck is rock solid.
Mine ebb and flow with my freelance business, and school takes up a lot of my time. “I’m broke sometimes,” I point out.
“Yeah, and I remember how that feels.” He shrugs. “But it’s only a temporary condition. Nobody works harder than you. And we share everything else. The groceries. The heat. The cable bill. I love you, Kieran. We’re only going to share more things, right? Why not the bank account?”
He’s right—there’s no rational reason. But I’m struggling with this idea.
“Just think about it,” he says. “In the meantime, I have plans to get you drunk right now.”
“You do? At home?”
He shakes his head. “Remember when you told me there weren’t any gay bars in Vermont?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“There’s a brand-new one up the street, and I think we should check it out.”
“Wait, really?”
“Really. We don’t have to go now, but I heard there's live music tonight.”
“Yeah? Okay. That’s an easier decision. Although you’re probably right about the bank-account thing, too.”
He grins. “Of course I am.”
“We both know I’d go anywhere with you, or do anything you asked me to. Sometimes I just need a minute to get used to the idea.”
“You don’t say.”
I give him a gentle kick under the table. “Be grateful. And now tell me about this new place,” I demand. “How’d you hear about it?”
“On VPR. It’s called Vino and Veritas. One side is an LGBTQ friendly bar, specializing in wine. Or what I’d call a gay bar. And the other side is an inclusive bookstore.”
“Huh. Isn’t that kind of a strange combo?” But let’s face it, I rarely leave Vermont. And I’ve never been near a gay bar. “And what makes a gay bookstore gay?” I have to ask.
“Oh, not much,” he admits. “The difference probably comes down to this—the LGBTQ books are in the front of the store instead of in back. And there will probably be rainbows all over the kids’ section.”
“Fair enough. And the bar?”
“Eye candy and a comfortable space. Those are the parameters.”
“I like it already.”
“See? You’re a cheap date,” Roderick says, reaching over to squeeze my thigh.
“Get a few drinks in me, and I’ll be even cheaper.”
“I like the sound of that,” Roddy says. “Let’s do this.”
Roderick
We stroll up the marketplace a few minutes later. “See? There’s the place.” I point at a large brick building with a Vino and Veritas sign in neon outside. And then I reach for Kieran’s hand.
Holding Kieran’s hand is something I do as often as possible. Although my reason for doing so right now is a little shallow. Maybe Kieran hasn’t been to a gay bar before, but I have. And anyone with eyes will be checking out my guy the moment we set foot in that place.
“Place looks nice,” he says, oblivious to my machinations. “And you were right about one thing—there are lots of rainbows in the window on the bookstore. But check it out—farming books, too.”
He’s right. One of the window displays is dedicated to chicken farming. Go figure.
When we reach the door, Kieran holds it open for me. Inside, the bar is to the left and the bookstore to the right. The store is just closing, though, so we'll have to check that out another time.
But the bar is just heating up. The tables and stools are maybe three quarters full. There's a guy on the stage playing his guitar and singing, with a bass player and a percussionist accompanying him.
I like the place already.
I scan the room and then nudge Kieran toward two open seats at the end of the bar. As soon as I sit down, a very hot, tattooed bartender slides a drink menu between us. “Evening, boys. Is this your first time to Vino and Veritas?”
“Why, yes it is,” Kieran says quietly. “What do you recommend?”
“Depends what you're in the mood for. Our wine list is second to none. We have Goldenpour on tap, as well as a full selection of other Vermont craft beers. There’s also Shipley cider and…” The tattooed hottie frowns at my boyfriend. “Now, hang on. You’re a Shipley, right? You look familiar. I went to high school in Colebury for a year.”
“Oh, of course,” Kieran says slowly. I’m getting the feeling that he doesn’t quite remember the guy, but he doesn’t want to sound impolite. “How’ve you been?”
And now that I’m paying attention, this dude’s face does look familiar. “I went there for two years, too, and I think maybe you were in my class. Is your name Tanner? And didn’t you have a brother?”
Kieran shoots me a look of relief, happy that one of us knew the guy’s name.
“Yeah.” A smile appears on his rugged face and then disappears just as quickly. “My brother and I didn’t have the best attendance record, though. Water under the bridge, right?” He offers me his hand to shake. “And you’re—?”
“Roderick Waites.” We shake.
“What can I get you both to drink?” Tanner asks when all the introductions are through.