Honestly, I don’t understand how Jay keeps running into situations like this. From what I know of him, he’s a total catch. Anyone would be lucky to have such a devoted and caring partner. Maybe that’s my biased opinion as his friend.
I give him a nod. “So, are we getting wasted to forget her or are we hiding away tonight?”
“Um, you’re resting, Sergeant Borrelli. Aren’t you tired?”
“I'm barely hanging on, truth be told. But I gotta be awake when I get to Rebecca’s. I want to help her with Viera.”
“Dude, the bags under your eyes tell me you’re thirty seconds of silence away from passing out. How are you supposed to help when you get there?” I give him a shrug. “Why don’t you come over to my place and catch up on sleep. Then I can take you over to their place tomorrow when you’re fresh. How about that?” He makes a compelling argument, so I give him a nod. “Good. My roommate is still gone, so you can use his room.”
“You have a roommate?” I feel a little awkward that I didn’t know this about him.
“Barely. His company set him up with a work abroad program in The Netherlands and he’s been over there for the last six months. They pay for his housing thereandhere while he’s away.”
“So you basically live by yourself and pay half the rent? That’s a sweet deal.”
“I know, right?”
I take a moment to think this over. Sleep does sound amazing right now. If I went to my sister’s house and slept, I’d feel rude ignoring her and my niece. They deserve a fully functional Uncle Marco.
“Alright, man. You have yourself a deal.” I pull out my phone to call Rebecca to let her know the change of plans due to my exhaustion, and she hits me with a sarcasticOh areyoutired?But she agrees I should get some rest, too.
Hours later we arrive at Jay’s apartment after a long, traffic-filled drive from Fort Belvoir. He shows me to my room and sets my stuff down, still not letting me carry my own shit. This room is weird and I realize it’s because it looks staged.
“Dan’s company paid for the furnishings,” Jay explains. “I swear he’s only spent maybe ten nights in this room when hewashere.”
I unlace my boots and look up at him. “Fine by me. But hey, you didn’t answer me—how are we treating this breakup? Drinks or hiding?”
“You know, for once, I don’t feel like hiding. Let’s drink to celebrate your homecoming until you pass out from exhaustion.”
Setting my boots aside, I stand up, unbuckling my belt and unzipping my fatigue cargo pants. I huff a small laugh, “That’s a real possibility.”
When I step out of my pants, I glance at Jay who’s looking all around the room like he's never been in here before. I shrug off my jacket and Jay clears his throat. “Let me go check what I have to drink. I’ll meet you in the living room.” He turns around to book it out of the bedroom but runs into the doorframe with his broad shoulder. “Fuck. Who put that there?” he mutters to himself.
When I change into my gray sweats and a fresh army t-shirt, I make my way to the modest but modern living room. There’s a navy-blue sofa, a leather recliner, coffee table, rug, and a huge TV. I take a deep breath and soak in my creature comforts.
Jay walks out from the kitchen with a couple open bottles of beer in his hand. “You wanna Yuengling or this IPA?”
Feeling nostalgic and craving more of anything that feels like home, I grab the Yuengling from him as he plops down next to me.
“Cheers to your homecoming. Welcome back, man.”
“Let’s make the most of the next three months.”
Jay was right—I did pass out after one beer, but not before he had cheesesteaks delivered to the apartment.
Jay was tired, too, apparently, because one minute we were talking with the TV on mute, and the next, I was woken up by his shoulder falling against my own. The early winter darkness had settled around us as our bodies settled against each other. I wasn’t about to move him because he looked so peaceful, but he startled awake after a few moments and looked up at me with heavy eyelids and a dreary smile. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to do that.”
I give him a lazy smile back. “It’s okay, bud.”
Shifting his warm body away from mine, he stands, then extends his hand. “Come on. You need a real bed.”
My eyelids and limbs feel like weighted blankets, but I grab his hand as he hauls me off the couch and leads me to my room for the night.
The room feels so impersonal, unlike everything else I’ve experienced around Jay today. His home, his stories, the way he makes me feel like I belong—so when the door to my room finally closes, I’m glad I’m halfway asleep already when I fall into the bed and turn off my brain.
He lets me sleep and sleep and sleep until I wake up the next day in the mid-afternoon. I take a quick shower and find out why Jay smells the way he does. He has nice body wash, not that four-in-one combo bullshit. And I sniffed through his cologne collection.
Ready to begin my active duty as Uncle Marco, we leave his place and drive to Bec’s just in time for Viera to wake up and feed.
