Page 2 of Coming Clean

He walked up the steps tothe porch and then watched the moving truck until it disappeareddown the street, anything to avoid facing the chaos inside. Heobserved people walking by with their dogs, children, or both.Across the street, a woman was being dragged along by an eagerFrench bulldog. She waved and Jeremy waved back. If he rememberedcorrectly from a trip earlier that week to ferry smaller boxes tothe house, she lived a few houses down on the other side of thestreet.

A group of boys wearingbackpacks walked by, laughing and pushing each other. They hadprobably just gotten off the school bus. What did all these peoplethink of him, standing there staring across the largest front lawnin the neighborhood? Something inside him didn’t want to part withthe lovely old house. It held good memories along with the bad. Butlike Thoreau, he’d gotten used to his tiny rental cabin in thewoods, away from the bustle of people. Maybe the house would sellquickly, and he’d be able to pick out something that suited himbetter, a place where he could hide.

He could only imagineDavid’s reaction to that idea. For months, David had been trying tomake him go out more. “What kind of gay man spends his nights alonein a cabin surrounding by dead poets when he could be out gettinglaid?” he’d asked.

Jeremy’s kind did. Sure, helamented the fact that it had been ages since his cock had enjoyedthe feel of anything besides his own hand. But most of the time,getting laid felt like too much work. The men he met when he wentout were typically not that appealing, either full of themselves ordumb as a stump. And when he did go home with someone, they usuallycouldn’t kick him out fast enough once they’d shot their loads. Henever brought men back to his little cabin in the woods, at leastnot since he’d broken up with Silas the Asshole—Jeremy’s only longterm relationship and an utter failure. He’d never felt so naïve inhis life, not even when he was a first year grad student whothought the merit of his work actually mattered.

Tearing himself out of thepast, he faced the house. It was time to go inside. When he steppedinto the foyer, the sight of boxes stacked taller than Jeremy madehim want to run away. God, he hated moving, and now he was movinginto a house knowing he would likely be moving out before thesummer ended.

After the reading of thewill, Jeremy had originally dismissed the idea of moving to thehouse he’d inherited. In the end, he’d convinced himself there wasno sense paying rent on his cabin and driving the twenty minutesback and forth each day to work on the house. According to hisuncle’s lawyers—Jeremy’s lawyers now, since David worked in thedistrict attorney’s office and wasn’t an expert in inheritancelaw—he had more than enough money to pay for his cabin, anapartment in town, and workers to do all the odd jobs around thehouse. But he hadn’t adjusted to that idea yet.

He truly did have optionsnow, too many options, really. Should he leave his job permanently?Move somewhere new? Travel? Lay around on his ass and hope hedidn’t burn through the money too fast?

Jeremy shook his head in afutile attempt to banish the maelstrom of thoughts. First thingsfirst: unpacking. The only thing he’d been particularly organizedabout as he’d packed were his books, all forty boxes of them. He’djust wanted to get the move over with. That left a hell of a lot ofboxes labeled miscellaneous. It would be nice if the platesand utensils had ended up in the kitchen but he wasn’t betting onit. As to his clothes… He couldn’t go out in public naked so he’dhave to find them soon.

He pulled out his phone andtapped David’s name. His friend answered on the secondring.

“You get moved in?” heasked.

“The men unloaded my stuff,if that’s what you mean. I’m not sure I’m ever going to sort it allout.”

“I thought you weren’tunpacking most of it, anyway.”

“I’m not. Just the things Ineed while I get this place fixed up.”

Jeremy still needed to gothrough the few personal effects of his aunt and uncle’s that hisother relatives hadn’t taken. There wasn’t much left besides basicfurniture—not even a set of dishes in the kitchen—and he intendedto auction the pieces off once the house sold. He had no intentionof sitting on bad memories, or worse, sleeping on them. He’d askedthe movers to disassemble his aunt and uncle’s bed and put up hisown. Sleeping in their bedroom was one thing, on their bed… Heshuddered. He wasn’t about to imagine them doing anything otherthan sleeping there. Ick.

“So I was hoping you’d bewilling to—”

“Help unpack?” Davidasked.

“Yeah.”

“Sure. I can be there inabout an hour.”

That was easier than Jeremyhad expected. “Really?”

“If you thought I’d say no,why’d you call?”

A typical David question.“I was going to bribe you.”

David laughed. “I expect tobe fed, obviously. Especially now that you’re Richie Rich andall.”

“Ha. I’ll order fromMountain Pizza.”

David made noises like hewas mulling the suggestion over. “Or, if you want me to do someserious work, you could get Sparky’s.”

Jeremy pondered the idea.Spicy fried chicken, fries, and the best coleslaw ever. David knewJeremy had a weakness for Sparky’s. He’d taken Jeremy there nearlyevery night for a week after Jeremy had finally kicked Silas out ofhis life.

“Sparky’s sounds great, butit’s soooo fattening.”

“And pizza’snot?”

David had a point. “I wasgoing to get a salad.”

“Seriously? You’reunpacking. You don’t order a salad on moving day. Besides, you’reon vacation—”

“Sabbatical.”