Page 6 of Winter Break

Miss Anita barely let him finish, energy sparking as she responded.

“Dalton reminded me that you’re graduating this year. Said he won’t be able to work that weekend.” She cupped Brett’s face. “Where did the time go? I remember when you were Dalton’s age, sneaking out of the hotel to hang out in here. Chasing whatever teenage girl I’d hired for the summer. Hell, I remember when you were younger than that, actually, and still genuinely interested in toys and games!”

She waved her arm around the store, which was packed with items, a cacophony of colors, shapes, and sizes that would have delighted me as a kid. Looking around the store, I was delighted enough as a college senior to feel like a kid. A child I had never had the opportunity to be.

The colors, the kind woman, the cozy warmth and comfort of the space, and the sound of the waves beyond the door washed over me. It was nothing like my stark home in the Midwest, but that word kept coming to mind. Home.

Brett had originally suggested the trip to New Orleans after I’d finally confessed to him that I wasn’t out at home and how difficult that made returning there during our breaks from school. When he heard that I’d never been to the ocean, he insisted we spend the week we had planned to visit New Orleans in his hometown of Breakwater Beach instead, postponing the New Orleans trip for graduation.

I’d come with Brett for part of winter break merely to delay going home for the holiday. Being in Breakwater felt like rebellion, but instead of feeling anxious or guilty about my detour, it just felt … right. I tried to take it all in, every toy, every book, the carousel of greeting cards near the door, and especially, the Christmas tree in the window, with its blinking lights, crowded ornaments, and fragile-looking spire topper.

“Oh, come on, Miss Anita. You know I was in here checking out the LEGO shelf when I was a teenager. Scout’s honor.”

“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t recall you ever being in the Scouts, Brett. And now the boys will be sniffing around after your brother. Time flies.”

I’d been looking around the store, standing in place but turning to take it all in. When Miss Anita said the boys, my head whipped back around, drawing her attention to me.

I could already sense that Miss Anita probably didn’t miss much. For some reason, it seemed vitally important to me that Miss Anita was okay with gay people. That she’d be okay with me. I was also surprised to find that Brett’s brother was gay. Brett had never mentioned it.

Miss Anita dropped her hand from Brett’s cheek and held it out to me.

“Now, who is this handsome young man you have with you?”

“I’m Turner, ma’am. Also not here looking for a job,” I joked although, unlike Brett, I didn’t yet have something lined up for after I graduated. My parents were both teachers at a very conservative, very religious boarding school, where I had had the unique privilege to attend but not live full-time. At the time, it had left me feeling very left out, but looking back, I was glad I wasn’t more ensconced in the culture of that place, a place my parents were both very proud to be part of. A place where I had never felt like I belonged. I’d been in Breakwater for two hours and already felt more comfortable, more at home. Maybe I should have been looking for a job.

“Ahh, are you sure?” Miss Anita joked right back as if she’d heard my inner monologue. “Time flying means I’m getting older, too, I suppose. Someone will have to take this place over for me at some point.” Was she joking? The way Miss Anita’s eyes bore into me made me feel like she was delving into my soul, not participating in witty banter. I looked around at the shelves again, imagining what it might be like on a busy summer’s day, with me behind the register, trying to keep up.

“Anyway, tell me about school, boys. I never had the pleasure of attending college, and I love it when you kids come home for break, all grown up. Tell me a grown-up story, Brett. You’re in a fraternity, isn’t that right?” She waved a finger between us. “Is that where you two met?”

“No,” Brett jumped in. “I mean, yes, I am president of my fraternity this year, but Turner and I were roommates when we were freshmen, and we’ve stayed friends.” Brett and I had actually drifted apart after freshman year, but he’d reached out to me about a year later, and we’d been hanging out ever since. I didn’t bother to correct him on that.

“Yeah, I’m not in a fraternity. I still live in the dorm.”

Brett elbowed me in the ribs and scoffed. “Lives in the dorm. Turner is actually an RA, so, like, he’s in charge of a whole floor of the dorm.” Miss Anita tilted her head in question. “An RA is a resident assistant. He manages a bunch of rooms in one of the dormitories. How many students do you manage, Turner?”

“Twenty-two rooms, so forty-four students.”

“Wow, that job must be challenging. Do you plan to continue working with young people when you graduate? What are you studying?”

“I don’t … I don’t think so. I’m a business major.”

“Oh. So the independent type, huh? Going to start your own company? Or are you following this one into hotel management?”

Brett started to speak. “You remember my major?”

“I told you, Dalton was here today, interviewing for a job. Of course, I asked after you. Working with your dad should be ...”

“Interesting,” Brett supplied.

“Interesting,” Miss Anita agreed, narrowing her eyes for a beat before they smiled at me. “And you, Turner?”

“No, ma’am. I don’t plan to go into hospitality, but maybe, someday, it would be fun, or challenging, or whatever, to own my own business.”

It struck me that fun was perhaps an immature word to use, but then I decided that I didn’t need to impress Miss Anita; it wasn’t like I was actually on a job interview,. So then why did it feel like I was?

She leaned in, smiling. “It is fun! Don’t get me wrong, it’s a shit ton of work, but it’s lots of fun. Anytime you want to talk shop, Turner, you come find me.”

I pointed to the corner. “In the big comfy chair?”