Garrett probing for their next meeting comforted Eron. He’d nearly messed the whole afternoon up, blurting out he wasn’t homosexual again. As much as Garrett seemed irritated with him earlier, now it was as if he didn’t want to go. Garrett got out of the car and walked into the bank. Eron watched as best he could through the mirrors in his own car.
What I wouldn’t give to touch that ass again. 5
January 1967
After the pallbearers loaded Grant Lassiter’s casket into the hearse, the friends and family attending the funeral broke up into small groups and climbed into their own cars. Although Garrett hadn’t known Grant very well, he held an appreciation for human life since his mother passed away
“You want to ride with me?” Eron asked Garrett.
“Sure. Let me make sure my dad has a ride.”
Garrett treasured the comfortable silence as they drove to the cemetery.