Ezra isn’t responding to my texts, and Johnny’s been giving his phone the stink-eye since we got to work. I know exactly what this is about. It’s pure, untethered jealousy. Earlier, when Ezra lifted a ceiling tile and climbed through the air duct, I overheard every word my boys were saying.
They’ve been ripping each other to shreds, and for what? Me? I’m not anything special. Not special enough todeserve the love these boys have for me. We need to have a sit-down soon, because it can’t keep going on like this. It hurts to know I’ve failed them. I haven’t been the best potential partner I could be, because I’ve never addressed the elephant in the room. Instead, I’ve let chaos run amuck, causing both my boys heartbreak in the process.
Johnny is my best friend. He’s the person I want at my side for all the big stuff. All the small stuff too. I don’t know who I am without him, and I struggled to find myself when he ditched me to go live his quote-unquote normal life with a happy wife.
Then I met Ezra. My bratty boy. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew I had to have him. His presence didn’t lessen the hurt of losing Johnny, but he made the unbearable moments a little more bearable. Ezzy pretends to hate his whole life, but it’s clearly just an act. He enjoys goading me as a means of entertainment. That’s why his antics are so erratic.
Take yesterday, for instance. Johnny was sitting beside me on the couch, watching a new-to-us episode ofReal Housewives of Orange County. Neither of us had ever even heard of the damn show, but Ezra got us hooked, then he got bored of binge watching with us, leaving Johnny and I to navigate the human whirlwinds that are Tamra and Vicki on our own.
When Ezra walked into the room and found Johnny holding my hand, he shoved down his shorts, grabbed the remote, paused on a close-up of Andy Cohen, and pumped his little dick three times before busting all over the flatscreen, muttering something about sticking that in our pipe, then telling us to smoke it. It didn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense then, and still doesn’t, but Ezra’s always been prone to his theatrics, so it’s to be expected.
I’ve been welding this damn steel drum for damn near three hours. It’s almost triple digits outside, and the industrial strength fan at myworkstation ain’t doing a whole lot to help with the heat. Johnny is another source of discomfort for me today. Since we left for work earlier, he’s hardly said two words. He keeps staring at his phone. He gets this way sometimes, lost in his head, wandering around like he’s in a haze. It reminds me a lot of this old poem I once read by my man James Joyce once.In Flanders fields the poppies blow, but where they land, we’ll never know, ashes, ashes, we all fall down,and damn if it doesn’t fit our situation perfectly. Our neighbor’s name is Regina Flanders, and she’s been begging to blow Johnny’s poppy since the day we moved in. He doesn’t want her, though, so he avoids going outside when she’s out there.
I lift my welding helmet, then extinguish my torch, looking over at Johnny’s work station to find him scowling at me. “What?” I holler over the oversized fan to my right.
“Turn off your fuckin’ torch off before you take off your mask, bro. You’re going to burn your eyes again.”
I’ve burned them more times than I can count. When you weld shit together for a living, it comes with the territory. Most of the time it happens when my mask gets a crack in the glass, and I don’t realize until it’s too late. Each time, it takes a day or two for my eyes to heal, and as much as I love being home with Ezzy all day, I don’t want to risk my time with Johnny either, so I give him a nod.
“I hear you,” I tell him, acknowledging his concern. “I hear you, and I see you, buddy. I’ll try to be more careful.”
He nods, but he doesn’t look too convinced. “Whatever, man.” There’s a metal stool next to my station, and Johnny walks over, plopping down on it as he unwraps the candy bar he grabbed at the gas station on the ride to work. He’s got his phone in his hand, eyes locked on the screen, fingers tapping at a feverish speed.
I clear my throat to get his attention, and when he looks up, I motion toward his phone. “New girlfriend?”
He rolls his eyes like it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. We both know he’s not looking for a lady anymore. He belongs to me. We both know it, but we’re too damn scared to make the first move. One of us has to, though. My boy is strong, but I’m stronger, and I know if this thing between us is ever going to happen, I’m going to have to be the one who starts it. That’s okay. It’s just another way to take care of my boy.
“It’s just a friend,” he mumbles quietly, pulling his phone closer to his chest like he’s scared I’ll see. I ain’t nosy, and even though I want to know every aspect of both my boys’ lives, I don’t want to invade their privacy, even if the way he’s being so secretive is sending up red flags left and right. He taps the screen a few more times before locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket.
“I was thinking—”
“That’s usually not a good idea,” he says, taking a bite of his Three Musketeers bar.
“True, but still.” I kneel in front of him, even though my knees ain’t what they used to be. His hand is right there for the taking, so I take it, weaving our fingers together and squeezing. I bring my voice to a whisper, because saying it much louder would probably tempt fate. “I think it’s time we have a talk.”
“What kind of talk?”
I look down at our woven fingers and stroke the side of his hand with my thumb. “Thetalk.” He sucks in a quick breath, but he’s steeled his face by the time I glance up, his expression a blank canvas like he’s scared to let me see. He’s staring off into the distance, and that doesn’t work for me, because I need his eyes on me for this. I need him to see me, and to know everything is going to be okay. Itake his chin between my thumb and index finger, gently tugging until he’s looking at me. “Tonight, I’m taking you and Ezra out. No more tiptoeing around it.”
“There isn’t anything to talk about.”
“Oh, Johnny Boy” I whisper, squeezing his hand a little tighter. “We both know that’s not true.”
“Maybe,” he finally admits. Aside from the kiss we shared in bed that night, we’ve never really verbally acknowledged this thing between us. We’ve never said who we are to each other, and the more days I spend at his side, the more I want to scream it from the rooftop, because Johnny is mine. He always has been. He’s gripping my hand just as hard as I’m gripping his, and it’s like we’re both lost in an ocean torrent, and the moment we let go, we’ll both be lost to different, distant tides. “You want Ezra there for the talk too?”
I nod, swallowing the nervous lump in my throat. “That’s up to you. I want to take you both, but if you’re not comfortable with it, I can talk to you separately.
He shakes his head. “No. Together is probably easiest.” He closes his eyes and sighs, looking just as torn as the day his girlfriend left. One part of him wanted to run after her. The other wanted to run to me, because he knows I’ll keep him safe when he’s not strong enough.
He ran to me. Not to her.
“If you’re not okay with this, I’ll understand. I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do. I know you and Ezra aren’t exactly bosom buddies, but with the way you bicker, you’d think you were an old married couple.”
Johnny sighs. “He’s annoying all the time. It’s like he acts like an idiot on purpose.”
I nod. “He does it to get a rise out of you. I keep telling you, as long as you give his words life, he’s going to keep teasing you.” I squeezehis hand a little tighter, lowering my voice, because there are waters inside Johnny that must be waded cautiously, each step taken with precision for fear he’ll internalize and shut me out like he’s done so many times before. “Do you want me to ask him to go easy on you with the teasing?”
Johnny quickly shakes his head like it’s the last thing he wants. There’s a smile curling in the corners of his mouth. It’s obvious these boys get off on fucking with each other. They argue like siblings, and I think once they’ve accepted what we could be to each other, they’ll both be so much happier than they are right now. Ezra needs someone who can give him constant praise and acknowledgment. It’s a lot for one person to handle, but I know between the two of us, Johnny and I can be everything Ezra needs. Johnny needs someone more versed than me to lead him over the rainbow. He needs someone who knows their way around the queer scene, because I’ve only just discovered this part of myself. Part of my job is taking care of my crew. Both at work and home. They both need to be taken care of, but this ain’t an area I have any expertise in. I just wish they’d give each other a chance.
