“I don’t have anything to bring except maybe some clothes,” I said honestly. “I didn’t have much to begin with. I told my roomie to donate everything.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went distant for a moment as if she were mulling over a tangle of thoughts.
“It’s not a big deal, I can buy new clothes,” I pressed, not wanting to worry about pointless things. “Everything I need is here.”
“Jere, I have to apologize to you,” she said, scooting closer and touching my knee. “I know I’m not your mother, but I’ve always thought of you as a son, I need you to know that. It’s not lost on me I left you behind in Pleasant Grove. I feel terrible about it. Honestly, I thought you’d tag along in Cambridge with Danny or something. You two were always so close and I was busy starting a new job and I didn't think about what might happen to you when we were gone.”
I focused on the cream-colored carpet at my feet and every individual loop of yarn, an uncomfortable heat thrumming through me and making me feel weird. I wasn’t sure how to respond so I said nothing at all, instead nodding in an effort to let her know I’d heard what she’d said.
“But I could have at least asked if you wanted to stay with me in Mokena until you figured out what you wanted to do and not leave you with…”
The mention of my father made it seem like he was reaching beyond the grave to cause suffering to those I cared about. I put my big-boy pants on and said, “It’s not your fault, Mrs. B. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know, but I could haveasked. I should have and I’m sorry I didn’t.”
I gave her the side-eyes, casting her a teasing smile. “I turned out fine Mrs. B., didn’t I?”
“More than fine.” She held out her arms in expectancy. “Come on, do this for me.”
Blowing out a breath, I accepted her hug, her palm running circles over my shoulder. Her body was remarkably small as if I could snap her in two, but under all the layers was the strength of a woman who had faced the troubles of the world and raised two respectable boys. I wanted to tell her I thought of her as my mom, but the words wouldn’t come, and the opportunity quickly passed.
“You were always a good boy, Jere. You’re a good man. Danny is lucky to have you and I’m happy you’re here.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Danny
Settling into my mother’s house had been remarkably easy. When she’d moved for her job, she explicitly rented a place with two bedrooms so I’d have a place to come home to. The bed I’d slept in between semesters and on holidays was as comfortable as I remembered, if not a little squeaky and certainly not as big and luxurious as the one I’d bought for my apartment. The desk I’d studied at in order to get ahead in my next classes was still filled with colorful gel pens and stuffed notebooks but was a little dusty from disuse. The books I’d read while on break were neatly arranged on the shelves of the twin bookcases, a tasseled bookmark sticking out of one I hadn’t finished.
Biscuit had settled in too. He stretched his pink toes in a full body undulation and yawned blissfully. It wasn’t surprising he’d taken quickly to his new home, considering I’d brought him here to live with me during the summer I’d found him before I’d signed my apartment’s lease.
I used the furniture to guide my butt into the rolling chair and wheeled the rest of the way to the bookshelf. I picked up the unfinished book and ran my fingers over the smooth cover of the paperback. It was a collection of mathematical proofs by the great Ramanujan. Not exactly light reading. Despite my math skills, he was far beyond my level, though I enjoyed expanding my knowledge. I figured with nothing else to do, I’d get to finish the book.
Three weeks after abandoning my apartment, I’d received an official eviction notice. I’d expected it but holding the paper in my shaking hands and reading the words made everything more real. Losing my apartment had been pushed to the back of my mind, however, as there were more important things to be depressed about.
When Jere had taken me to physical therapy today, I’d been informed treatment would cease unless a payment of twelve-hundred dollars was made. This was in addition to the money I’d sent them from my disability aid. Something about being kicked off insurance. Who thought it was a good idea to tie health insurance to a job?
For a brief time during the past few weeks I’d been living at my mom’s, I’d convinced myself I was going to be fine. Now my life was falling apart all over again. I hated the sinking feeling of falling into the blackness, unsure of how deep that pit went. To distract myself, I organized my bookshelf. I put some of the books into a donation pile, while the rest were categorized and arranged accordingly. I flipped through a paperback of Midwest birds, noting the sticky notes of recent sightings. The day I’d signed my lease, I remembered telling myself I’d eventually get the rest of my belongings moved to my new place; that it could be done a little at a time. I’d been filled with so much hope and positive outlook the day I’d struck out on my own. I wasn’t sure if it was possible I could ever feel that way again.
I cleaned my desk and got rid of scrap papers and organized pens and notebooks. My hand-eye coordination was improving, and things went smoothly except for a few scattered paper clips. It was the small things that gave me the most trouble and picking them off the floor took a while, but I was determined. When that was done, I organized some of my clothes into the dresser. Just as he had done when we were kids, Jere had taken the bottom drawer. He’d traded in his superhero T-shirts my mother had bought him for muscle shirts with gym logos and joggers. The sudden desire to push my nose into his clothes nipped at me. I loved the way he smelled—all man with a hint of spice. Instead, I returned to my desk and stared at the stack of bills for a long while.
I couldn’t stop staring at the eviction notice. Until I opened a letter from the physical therapy clinic. I’d made it clear to Jere and my mother I would be opening my own mail from now on because they had the inclination to hide things from me. I almost wished I hadn’t. Being blind to my state of debt seemed preferable. While I did have a small savings and a baby 401k, I’d hoped to use that money for a future house. Those plans were out the window.
Jere walked into my room and dropped his eyes to the paper in my hands. “I don’t want you worrying about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“How are you going to do that? You can’t bully and intimidate them into treating me for free,” I countered.
He frowned at me. “I’m not a bully.”
“I know you’re not. I was just… There isn’t a lot you can do, Jere.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said again as if he had the keys to the world.
I blew out a breath, not in the mood to argue. Working on cleaning my room had drained my energy and I wanted to save some strength to wallow in my woes.
He pushed the little rounded ottoman I’d brought from my apartment toward me and lifted my legs up on it, his hand squeezing my socked foot for a moment. The warmth of that touch shot up my leg, grazed my balls and settled in my chest like a cozy, purring kitten. I wanted more, but I needed to put a stop to his careless touches. They’d gotten worse the past few weeks. Every night he slept with me in the too small bed, held me, practically kissing the back of my neck. And every morning, I awoke with a feather of hope he might lean over and kiss me good morning like a lover did. But that wasn’t going to happen—itcouldn’thappen.
“Jere… You need to stop.”
