“Oh, yeah, sure. I know she was asking if I had time to volunteer for the fall fest this year for the library, but we never got to talk about it. Are you going to be there?” The fall fest starts tomorrow and is a week-long event, where they have vendors come from all around to set up. There’s a small fee to set up and all that money goes towards the library, for renovations or books or whatever else they need. There’s food, art, crafts, and other miscellaneous small businesses trying to get their name out to the masses. Last year, Hollis had us dress up as different Marvel Characters and take pictures with whoever wanted them. Some old lady grabbed my dick through the thin spandex of my SpiderMan costume and I told Hollis I’m not helping him this year.
“Sure will.” By helping my mom sell her homemade baked goods, that way I have no chance of being touched inappropriately by old ladies with walkers.
Raiden’s smile is bright and he nods before leaving me in the garage to call Liam.
Liam picks up on the first ring. “Hello.”
“Hey baby, it's me. You busy?”
“Not too much, just finishing up some charting for the day. What’s up?”
I hear him fumble around with some papers on his desk, the rustling noise coming through the phone clearly.
“My mom’s cooking dinner, do you want to come over and watchFrankenweenie?”
He chuckles but I can hear him closing the desk drawersand the click of a lock before he answers. “Yeah, let me run home and shower then I’ll be over. Can I bring Jojo? She’s been left alone all day and I feel bad.”
“Of course, Ema and Rodney are going to be here and they love Jojo.” The line is silent, not even the sound of the gym in the background so I say “Hello?”
“Is Raiden going to be there too?”
My heart stops, and a pit forms in my gut. The tumultuous feelings growing inside of me. I’m not sure what he wants me to say, or how I’m supposed to approach this subject.
“Jericho?”
“Yeah, sorry. I was trying to put something up in my parents garage. He’ll be here, but he probably won’t stay long.” I can’t tell from his exhale if that statement relieves him or confirms his fears that something deeper is going on between us. I’ve never given him a reason to doubt me, or my commitment to our relationship. But since Raiden has been back, the sense of guilt that I’m holding grows everyday.
At times, it weighs on me, because I think Liam expects more from me than I can give him. I haven’t even been able to tell the manI love you. Who wants to stay with someone for so long and still miss out on that deeper intimacy? Liam has claimed it doesn’t bother him and he’s fine with the path we’re on. But I don’t thinkI’mfine with it.
I should talk to Liam, to tell him where my head is at. But how can I tell him where it's at when I don’t even know myself?
“Okay, give me an hour and me and Jojo will be over.”
We end the call and I lean back against the car my dad’s working on. An old school dodge challenger that needs some cosmetic updates. I can see where his mind is going, the plans he has carved out for this project. The tray beside the car has the bolts and wrenches on it to tighten them.
To distract myself from the thunderstorm brewing inside of me, I get to work.
19
JERICHO
My hands are black and covered in grease, but as I tighten the last bolt into place on the underside of the carriage, I feel a sense of pride. It’s been a while since I helped my dad work on cars, almost too long, and I forgot how much I loved it. When I was deployed, I helped with the vans every now and again, but those Humvees have a diesel engine and I am no diesel mechanic.
I grab my dad’s red rag that he left on the cart and wipe my hands the best I can. If I try to wash my hands in my mom’s kitchen sink, she would probably keel over.
The purr of an engine coming up the driveway has me abandoning the rag, and walking out of the garage to meet my boyfriend.
Liam parks his car right behind my bike, and I wait for him while he gets out. My face hurts from how hard I’m smiling, because everything else aside, Liam is one of my best friends. Even if we weren’t in a relationship, I would still want him around because I care about him. He’s funny, empathetic, and extroverted as fuck. He’s never met a stranger, and that alwaysbodes well for me when we have to go to a public setting and be cordial.
He eyes my bike, the discontentment lining his face as he sizes it up, and when his eyes lift to mine I know what he’s going to say.
“You rode? You have to be careful Jericho, and tell me when you do it. I worry about you already, and the thought of you falling off this death trap and bleeding out on the side of the road stresses me out.” His words are strangled and I feel awful for causing him to worry like this, but he worries abouteverything.
Sometimes, I worry that he doesn’t see me as the man I am now, the man I’ve worked hard to become. I think he still sees me as the man who hobbled into the gym on a pair of crutches without my prosthetic because I just neededsomethingto make me feel normal.
“I did, just to the Carpenter’s and back.” I want to reach out and touch him, run my hands down his arms and get him to truly see me for who I am. But, my hands are dirty and I’m too much of a coward to confront him like that. It’s better for me if I let sleeping dogs lie and paste a smile on my face. “I’m fine baby, all in one piece.”
His eyes say he doesn't believe me, and maybe we’re thinking the same thing. There’s no use in bringing it up, because I’m going to keep doing what I want and he’s going to keep worrying. I can’t let the loss ofone appendagekeep me from living my life. I’ve already lost too much because of it, and I refuse to lose anymore.
