“Probably not from here, but that’s why we run. Whale spotting is kinda like our reward for all that sweating.”
“No kidding. Oh, that reminds me...” He grabbed my tablet and did a quick search. "You were right. We saw a humpback yesterday."
I grinned. "It’s the season for humpbacks, but in a few months, we’ll see more gray whales out here."
He put the tablet down, and that reminded me about something else I wanted to talk to him about.
“I need to go to the phone store to upgrade my phone, and I’d like to give you mine so you have it for work.”
Joshua’s eyes went wide, and his happy temperament dropped for a second. “Oh, um, sure. Thank you.”
He didn’t like to accept financial gifts from me, but he also had nothing left in the world other than his motorcycle. He’d given it all up with the assumption that he wouldn’t need it past Sunday night. Now, he had to rebuild all of his basic life possessions.
He held his mug and looked out toward the tree line with an expression I was starting to recognize as the one he wore when something was turning over in his head.
As usual, I didn't push. I just drank my coffee and let him think.
After breakfast, Joshua settled into the corner of the sectional with his knee up and one of the many sketch pads I had lying around the house. I was reviewing some permit requirements on my laptop, and when I looked up, it almost took my breath away to watch him draw with his tongue poking out as he concentrated.
Even though I was tempted to find a reason to walk behind him and see what he was drawing, I kept my eyes averted so he didn’t feel self-conscious. If he decided to show me what he was working on, I would appreciate the moment for what it was. A show of trust. And if he wanted to keep it to himself, I respected that.
My email inbox was fuller than usual because I’d only worked a few hours each day since Joshua joined me. But having a shit ton of work to do didn’t keep me from sneaking glances now and then.
I just liked looking at him.
"You like to draw?" I kept my voice easy, like I was just making conversation.
He didn't look up, but he shifted his head to the other side. "I guess. Haven't done it in a while." His hand stopped for a moment, and he looked up. "I found the pad in the drawer. Hope that's okay."
“Of course.” I loved that he helped himself to things he was interested in. "Use as many as you want."
He smiled but kept his focus on the paper.
By early afternoon, he'd filled several pages and then left the pad on the coffee table when he went to the bathroom. As he rounded the corner, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “You can look if you want.”
I did want. Very fucking much.
The first pages were trees. Just rough sketches as he warmed up. Then there was a more detailed drawing of the deck railing with the ocean behind it. But the one that stole my breath was the last one. It was a quick sketch of two mugs side by side with trees and the water in the background.
My throat was tight as I stared for another minute, and when Joshua came back, I pulled him into my chest and hugged him tightly. “You’re so good, baby. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me.”
On Sunday, the fog stayed low all day, so we stayed in, and I taught Joshua to make my famous tomato sauce. Not famous in the traditional “known outside of my house” way, but the few people I ever cooked for were very familiar with it. Joshua didn’t have a ton of patience for stirring and waiting, but I wouldn't let him rush it. He stirred and complained and stirred some more, and when it was done and he tasted it off the spoon, his whole face changed.
“Wow.” He tore a piece of bread off the loaf I’d baked and dipped it in for a second taste. "That's not fair."
I grabbed some bread and tasted it too. "What isn't?"
"That something so simple tastes so delicious." He closed his eyes and did a little wiggle. "How did you learn how to make this?"
"My mom taught me when I was in high school. Before she got sick." I drained the pasta and put it in a bowl with a drizzle of olive oil. “After that, I did most of the cooking for me and Dad.”
"I didn't learn anything from my mom." Joshua wasn’t looking for sympathy. He was just stating a fact. "Just how to avoid her and her boyfriends when they were drinking."
"I’m sorry." Joshua had mentioned that his mom didn’t allow him to go home when he was at rock bottom, and now I was realizing that might have been a good thing. At least for me it was. “You deserved better than that.”
"Maybe, maybe not." He put down the spoon and picked up his glass of water. "I used to imagine what it would be like to have someone cook for me and teach me things like this." He was quiet for a moment as he looked off into the distance. "Better late than never, right?"
I put the lid back on the pot and didn't say anything because anything I said would come out wrong, and what I really thought he needed weren’t stupid platitudes. He needed someone to take care of him.
