“The story actually gets better from here,” Jacob told him.
“Okay. Not sure it could have gotten much worse.”
Jacob ignored that comment. It could. Jacob was old enough to know how bad it could have been. “The night we graduated, our father was in a bad mood. Both Jesse and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he came into the room. We didn’t know if it would be another beating or if he would really sell us. So, we packed what we had. Jesse was always hiding food and that was what he put in his backpack. I’d grabbed the one blanket we had and a few clothes. It’s not like we had much.”
“Where’d you go?”
“The interstate ran through our town. There was a massive truck stop where big rigs fueled up or stopped for some food. Our mom worked the truck stop as one of her places. So we knew where it was. It took a few hours but we eventually begged the right person and got a ride west.”
“That must have been scary,” James commented.
“We were two eighteen-year-old kids. It was terrifying. But we rode as far as we could with that guy until he stopped at the next truck stop. It took weeks, way longer than it should have, but eventually we made it to California.”
“Why California?” James questioned.
“It was as far from Texas as we could think. Warmer than if we’d chosen somewhere up north. The first thing we did was go to the beach.” Jacob chuckled as that was a good memory. “We stood there holding hands and had our whole lives in front of us. The ocean was so…vast and we were just two guys.”
“That’s lovely.” James bent his head back and smiled.
“We slept on the beach, under tunnels, in homeless camps. At one of the camps, we heard a couple of guys talking about how they’d picked up day work at a construction site.”
“Construction?” James asked. “You?”
Jacob was a little offended. “Yes. I worked construction for years.”
“Huh,” James said. “You do have calluses on your hands.”
“I do.” Did James not like them? Not that Jacob could do anything about them. They were like the scars. Just a part of him.
“I like them.” James rubbed his palm over Jacob’s chest.
“Thanks, baby. I actually do like working with my hands. We worked as day laborers until we had our own little nest egg. Eventually Jesse took our savings and bought a cheap house to flip. We did that for ten years. Living in a house until it was done and flipping it for money to buy the next.”
“That’s amazing,” James murmured.
“Our boss took Jesse on as an assistant,” Jacob shared. “Jesse was always striving for more.”
James rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure that hasn’t changed.”
“And it never will,” Jacob said in agreement. “Although now that he’s with Lake, he’s actually taking days off.”
“But you wanted something different?” James asked with curiosity in his eyes.
“I spent a lot of time at the library, learning how to apply and submit permits. I began to pick up books on all kinds of subjects. We didn’t have a library in the town we grew up in. I loved learning.”
“You still do,” James teased.
Jacob booped his nose. “You think you know me?”
James smiled. “I know I do. Thank you for sharing your story with me.”
He felt surprisingly free. Like telling James his story had healed a part of him that Jacob had been ignoring for so long. “Thanks for listening.”
Lowering his mouth, Jacob was about to kiss James when the boy’s stomach growled loudly.
They laughed together with their lips a breath apart.
Jacob kissed James quickly. “I better feed my boy.”
