few other people in the bar, and they weren't paying much attention to me, which was fine. I turned around on my stool and watched the windows, wondering when John would get there. Behind me I heard the door swing and I turned to see a man around my age standing there.

"Hey, you new?" I asked him, looking for anyone to talk to.

He looked up at me somewhat startled before turning around to look at Mac, who'd just came from the back room also and walked over to where I was sitting.

"Nope," he said smiling; he'd gotten his composure back fast it seemed.

I smiled back and started looking through my pockets for the pack of cigarettes that should be in them somewhere. I had started smoking once I came to the town; it entertained me more than anything else, I think. I found them, but then I couldn't find my lighter, I had gotten more forgetful since moving it seemed.

"Here," the man said walking toward me and flicked open a Zippo.

It had two male symbols intertwined on its front. I looked up into his eyes as he brought the flame close to the tip of my cigarette. I leaned in a little closer to his hand and inhaled through the filter, lighting it.

"Thanks," I said and gave him another smile. That lighter could only mean that he was playing for my team. That or he didn't care that it could give people the wrong idea. It would be just my luck if it was the second of the two.

"I'm Camble York," he said and stuck out his hand.

"Reed Timmy," I took his hand and almost melted at the feel of his rough callused skin. He smiled at me, like he knew exactly what was going through my head, before letting go.

"So you're Peter and Emily's grandson huh?" he asked, and I watched as his eyes clouded.

"Yeah, I'm living in their house now, down at the end of Timberwork, did you know them?"

"Yeah, everyone did, I'm sorry for your loss."

I waved it away. "Don't worry about it, they had a long happy live, at least they went together. I'm guessing you knew them well?"

"Yeah, I used to cut their grass. Hey you wouldn't be that evil little grandson of theirs would you?" he said laughing, probably remembering stories Grandma had told him.

"No, that would be my brother,"

He had a really nice smile. His white teeth were straight besides the teeth on either side on his front ones. They were angled out a little, over lapping the front teeth ever so slightly. Really nice smile.

"Then you're the quiet one right? Your grandma always said 'you would get along with him famously dear, you two have a lot in common'," his voice had gone up a tone or two trying to sounds like her, making me laugh really hard. I sobered up and found him watching me. "I guess she was right."

"I guess," I said stupidly, not knowing exactly what he meant and from being at a loss of anything else to say. We stayed like that for a little while, staring at each other, I don't know what was going through his mind, but mine was going nuts.

Camble York was most definitely gay, gay and