Michael
“Why didn’t you tell me what an attractive man your new friend is?” Mom inquired as she poured me a cup of tea. I hated tea, but I’d never tell her that. She was trying to cut caffeine out of her diet, so I made the small sacrifice to drink the herbal blend I was certain originated as weeds from the backyard.
“Was I supposed to?” I choked, wondering why she’d gone with that opening line. She’d never made a comment like that about any of my other friends, so I figured it’d be much stranger to start gushing about how good-looking he is. If I told her about the way his dark hair reminded me of melted chocolate when it glistened or how his eyes shimmered when he got excited, wouldn’tthatbe strange to her?
“Well, I suppose not.” She sighed heavily. “Still, it would have been helpful to have some warning before I walked into the room this morning. That boy’s not going to last long in this town as a single man. The ladies are going to be scratching out each other’s eyes to get to him.”
My tea sprayed across the table at the statement. I almost blurted out how unlikely that was, but refrained. Then, I almost told her that he was already off the market, or would be as soon as I told him as much. It pissed me off that I could practically see her trying to figure out which of her friends to call to see about setting him up.
“I’m pretty sure he’s not looking for anyone right now,” I told her. “He seems pretty busy with the new job and trying to get his house remodeled. He’s renting the old Baxter place on Main Street and said he’s planning to put in an offer after his lease is up.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about a man who’s only been in town for a month,” she observed, cocking her head to the side. When she did that, it always felt as if she could see directly into my mind.
“Yeah, probably because we’re friends,” I pointed out. “Did you really think I would let a stranger, especially someone new to town, watch Jagger if I didn’t think I could trust him?”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear her answer. For all I knew, she’d say that was exactly what she thought. “No, of course not,” she scoffed. “I just feel like there’s something different about him. Not necessarily in a bad way, but something in his eyes. He looked terrified when we were talking.”
Interesting. Not once had I seen that from him, with the exception of last night, which was an extenuating circumstance as far as I was concerned.
“Yeah, he had a rough go of it for a while, but I promise, he’s a good guy.” No way was I going to let her think less of Dax. I was proud of everything he’d accomplished in spite of what he’d been through.
“I’m sure he is,” she said, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “I guess I forgot how easily you used to make friends. This house used to be full of kids. You’d invite the entire neighborhood down and all of their parents knew where to find them. I miss seeing you as happy as you used to be.”
“I know, Mom.” I regretted the pain I’d caused my parents. Everyone around me had suffered when I’d imploded. “But I think I’m finally starting to see where I went wrong. I think things are going to start looking up soon.”
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be prepared to tell my parents about Dax being the motorcycle rider in that accident. I didn’t want them to use that to distort what was building between us. And I didn’t want them angry with him for his actions that night.
“Speaking of your friends,” she continued as she started digging out the ingredients for another baking marathon. “Justin was in Jagger’s classroom this morning. I hate to see how distant the two of you have become over the past two years. He loves you, Michael. You two used to be thick as thieves. What happened with that?”
“I was an idiot,” I admitted to her. She tsked softly and went about her business, knowing I’d tell her when I was ready. She struggled to reach for the bowl she wanted and I rushed to her aid. “The night of that accident, I was on my way in to cover a shift for him.”
“I remember.” We’d been through all of this before. “And he was the first on the scene the night Erica died. He proved what a good man he is that night. And you repaid him by pushing him away. I love you, Michael, but I’ll admit you’ve done some things I’m embarrassed by. We taught you better than that.”
“You absolutely did,” I agreed. “And I promise, I’m trying to make things right now. Dax and I talked a little bit about why I’m such a mess, and I’m starting to see how right everyone is.”
“He must be a special man to have that type of power over you.” The bowl clattered as it hit the counter and I dove, hoping to catch it before it broke. I had no clue how, but she knew. Somehow, my mother knew the truth I’d only admitted to for the first time last night. And it seemed she was trying to give me her stamp of approval.
I had two choices. First, I could play dumb and act as if I didn’t get what she was implying. I didn’t want to do that. I still felt sick over how much I’d kept to myself in the past day. Every time I denied that Dax was someone special to me out of fear over how people would perceive me, I denied what I felt about him. And whether or not he agreed with me, it felt like I was ashamed about him. I wasn’t. I didn’t understand it, but I desperately wished we lived in a big city somewhere that two men walking down the street hand in hand wouldn’t be perceived as anything other than normal. I wanted to live in a place where people didn’t think about what anatomy someone had and only saw how they felt about one another.
The other option, the one that sent me into a panic, was being honest with my mother. She raised me to believe she’d love me no matter what I did, as long as I tried to be the best person I could be. And Dax was the one who made me want to be more. He made me a better person. I sucked in a sharp breath and prepared for the hardest conversation of my life. Ridiculously, I looked around to make sure my dad was still outside. I could do this, but I didn’t know if I was ready to go there with him. Not yet. It would be harder for him to accept that I wasn’t the son he thought I was.
Sensing my anxiety, Mom led me back to the kitchen table. I ran my hands over the worn Formica top and chipped trim on the edge. This was where so many of the important conversations in my life had taken place. It’s where we sat the night my father caught me making out with Erica in the treehouse he’d built when I was four. He talked to me about the importance of not only safe sex, but guarding both my heart and my reputation.
“Son, you can’t let yourself get caught up in letting your pecker think for you,” he’d warned me. “This isn’t one of those big, anonymous cities where neighbors don’t know one another. What would your mother do if Mr. Roberts had been out working on his shrubs, and he’d been the one to hear those noises instead of me?”
“Dad, all the kids do it,” I protested. I knew he wouldn’t accept that argument, but it was true. We were in high school now, and I was tired of my friends giving me shit for not even making it to first base.
“You’re not like all the other kids,” he countered. He sat up straighter in his chair and leveled an icy gaze on me. “You’re going places, Michael. You’re not like a lot of your friends who’re going to be living here generations from now because they don’t know there’s another way. You have dreams and I want to see them come true. I know it’ll mean you’ll eventually spread your wings, but your mother and I will be smiling as we watch you soar.”
A salty tear trickled down my cheek to the corner of my mouth Dax had kissed so tenderly last night. I did have dreams and I’d let them die. I had disappointed my parents deeply, even if they’d never say it, but even worse, I’d let myself down.
“Oh honey, don’t cry,” Mom soothed me. She slid her chair closer to mine and took me in her arms. I buried my head against her shoulder and didn’t bother trying to hold back any longer. “Whatever it is, you’ll get through it. You’re a strong boy, Michael. Stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
After a while, I wasn’t even certain why I was crying. Still, I couldn’t make the tears stop. And the entire time, Mom simply held me, whispering soothing words into my hair. When the tears faded, I felt empty. An image of Dax standing at the front of his classroom wiping the board clean entered my mind.
I took another deep breath and sat up straight. Everything happens for a reason, or so Dax said. I was going to hang on to those words until I believed them to be true.
“Mom, what I’m about to tell you isn’t going to be anything you expected to hear from me,” I warned her. I dared to look at her, and saw how worried she was for me. She had so much going on in her own life, probably more than I even knew, and yet it was me she worried about. Her baby boy. The only child they’d had, no matter how hard they tried for another.
