Chapter 18
Justin had let him stay and work at Abbot Organics. There were new rules, one including “and stay the hell away from my brother!”
Mrs. Rossi had waited until Justin went back inside before hugging the life out of Izzy and telling him to have faith that the universe was done fucking him over—her words, not his—and that good things would come. He just needed patience, she’d said.
He’d driven back to the trailer and unpacked his stuff. He assumed his work schedule was still the one he’d had before last night, so he didn’t contact anyone.
Izzy went to bed instead and tried to sleep, but sleep didn’t come. Eventually, Sam got off work.
“Izzy?” he called, sounding so fucking happy that Izzy felt a bit choked up.
“In here.” His voice was raspy, and it wasn’t until then that he realized he’d been quietly crying all fucking afternoon. He didn’t want to examine why exactly that was, he wasn’t ready to.
“You get to keep your job?” Sam asked, trying to get a read of him.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you…” Sam didn’t seem to find a suitable adjective, so he gestured at Izzy instead.
“Can’t go to the house or see Wyatt.”
“Oh, I see.” Sam sighed, then turned around. “I’m going to make something to eat. For you too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Sam repeated, sighed again, and went to cook.
* * * *
Izzy kept his head down. He worked his ass off, harder than before if that was possible. He didn’t talk to people like he used to, he just kept his head down and made a point of not giving anyone a reason to doubt his abilities as a worker.
One morning, he was moving some tomato boxes from the greenhouse with the bees. Patty was there with him, picking one of the boxes to take to the stall because she’d sold everything she had already.
“Izzy,” she said suddenly, and he glanced at her. “Don’t move.”
There was a bee walking on his shoulder.
Izzy stood there, looking at the creature that might sting him and kill him, and felt…nothing. He watched as Patty coaxed the bee onto a tomato leaf she picked from the closest vine and took it away from him.
“You have your EpiPen, right?” she asked worriedly, and he patted the thigh pocket of his work pants, ready to say yes of course, but…it wasn’t there. She must’ve read his expression, because she looked so sad for a moment. “Oh, Izzy.”
Feeling uncomfortable, he picked up the boxes he was supposed to be moving and left the greenhouse with them. He didn’t need or want her pity or her sadness. He just wanted to be left alone.
* * * *
For some reason Izzy and Wyatt had never exchanged phone numbers. Maybe it was because they were on the same property all the time. It didn’t cross their minds to text each other, because they could walk to the other side of the road and just meet.
Except now they couldn’t, and Izzy was…he didn’t know. Everything felt muted. Like color had been washed out of the world, if he wanted to get poetic about it.
He didn’t know what Wyatt thought of all of this. He’d begged for Izzy to not go, but not going hadn’t been an option. Sure, they were both adults, but Justin was Izzy’s boss and Wyatt’s parent and, yeah. Wasn’t like he blamed Wyatt. It wasn’t like he even blamed Justin. Wyatt deserved better.
Every evening, Izzy looked at the list on their fridge door that told him what time he needed to be at work the next day. He went to work, came back to the trailer, barely ate because nothing tasted good, checked his schedule, and went to bed.
Sam kept giving him worried looks, but Izzy couldn’t muster the energy to try and calm his friend.
