Flame

by J. P. Scott

  “Well, if you think it is necessary. But have you thought about alternatives?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe it is being more secluded for a bit. Keep working on projects here and let me take care of you. Don’t go to the restaurant. Don’t go anywhere that you might run into someone you’re not ready to deal with.”

  “I wish it was that easy.”

  “Sounds pretty easy to me.” Putting distance between himself and the people who might want to confront him about serious issues made sense. But leaving the state? Did that really make sense?

  “I know you don’t want me to go. And if I thought that I could stay and be okay, I would stay. I like what we have. I don’t want to lose this.” Jonathan started to shake, “I-I…shit.”

  “Jonathan, what is it?” There was clearly a lot going on under the surface. What was he keeping from me?

  “Shit. This morning. When I got up. You were still sleeping, and I got up. I went into George’s place to make some coffee, but I couldn’t help but think about the hutch where you keep the liquor. As much as I tried to keep myself focused on the coffee, my eyes kept looking at the door to the hutch.”

  Jonathan had been resisting the urge to drink. I thought about my decision to move the alcohol out of the cabinet.

  “I thought I could just sneak a sip. A shot. One drink. Something to make things better. If I went to work at a cabin after that, you would never know.”

  I was frozen. I had moved the alcohol on a whim. Had it been just in time?

  “The cabinet was empty. I don’t know when you moved everything. It had to be recent, because I know you fixed yourself a drink just the other night at dinner. Something has made you nervous to have the alcohol around.”

  I nodded, “Yes, I know there is a lot going on. I did think that maybe the alcohol in that cabinet might be a temptation at some point. I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching about us and how we live together. The last thing I want is to have allowed you to mess up your sobriety by having alcohol around for the taking. I wanted to move it so that it wasn’t an issue…ever. And I wanted to reassess what role drinking should play in my life. Not because you asked me to, but because I believe I need to make changes so we can be together and be healthy.”

  “Thank you for that.” Jonathan was silent for a few moments, “But the fact is I told you before it wasn’t a problem, and it is. That tells me that I’m not ready for this. I don’t know what kind of life to ask you to live. You’re not an alcoholic. You shouldn’t have to change your life.”

  “To be with the man I love, I would change anything I need to.”

  Jonathan’s eyes bore into me, “Love?”

  “Yes, I love you.” There, it was said. “I would do anything for you. If I had to give up drinking so that I could be with you, I would. Anything you asked me.”

  “I don’t want you have to have to give up anything.”

  “But if you leave…doesn’t that mean I have to give up you?”

  That’s exactly what it meant. For Jonathan to get better, I would have to give him up. He would need to move away. By the time he got to a place where he would be ready to be with someone, who knew how much time would have passed?

  “For now.”

  Or was it forever? Would Jonathan ever come back to me if he left?

  I just looked at him. I had no words. I only had fear.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jonathan finished his current projects that afternoon.

  We did not sleep much that last night. Dinner had been eaten quickly. Then Jonathan pulled me to the bedroom. We kept the toys in the drawer and just focused on each other. We kissed, we touched, we fucked. The sex would be followed by cuddles, a quick snooze, and then one or the other would initiate the process all over again.

  Around down, we stared into each other’s eyes, exhausted from the night, but not wanting to miss a moment together.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go. Or better yet, if you could come with me.”

  “I would love to just run away from all of this.” For months I had wanted to be done with all of this. To have someone to run away with, a destination, and an outstretched hand was a once in a lifetime event. And I could not say yes. George needed me.

  “Who knows…maybe there will be a buyer and a quick sale. I’ve never been to Colorado. I could some hang out with you. Maybe buy a cowboy hat and boots.”

  “There aren’t as many cowboy hats in Colorado as you might think. People think the same about Arizona, but look around. Have you seen many cowboy hats since you’ve been here?”

  “Some ratty and dirty ones at the restaurant a few times, but no. More often than not it’s a camo ball cap.”

  Jonathan laughed, “Well, maybe you’ll start a new trend. I think you would look good in a cowboy hat and the whole get up.”

  “I think I saw that George and Anna had some line dancing VHS cassettes. Maybe I can learn to country dance.”

  He touched my face with a finger, “You’d look amazing on the dance floor.”

  “Do you dance?”

  “If swaying back and forth and shuffling with my feet counts, sure.”

  “What? No two-step? Waltz? Electric Slide?”

  He smiled, “I enjoy watching all of that…especially an ass in a tight pair of jeans, but I’m afraid I have two left feet and no sense of rhythm.”

  “Well, promise me that someday we will sway beneath a string of lights over a dance floor.

  “That’s a promise, Cowboy.”

  I laughed, imagining myself in Wranglers, boots, and a Stetson. That would be a big departure from my normal attire or anything a New York boy would ever find himself wearing. “Are there gay cowboys?”

  “Well, there was that movie. But real ones? All over the place. There’s a country bar down in Phoenix I should take you to.”

  “You’re going to take me to a bar?”

  “Someday…if we know I can and not get myself into trouble. It happens. I hear my AA friends talk about how they navigate the drinking world all the time.”

  “I’m sure they do. But I imagine gay bars are even worse. It’s not just drinking…it’s drinking. I can’t imagine what it is like to be sober in a gay bar while everyone around you is smashed or high.”

  “Apparently, it happens. And they live to tell about it.”

  I rested my head on his shoulder. My fingers ran across his stomach and played with the soft hairs. “You never told me about the scars.”

  He was silent.

  “You said it was a story for another time. We don’t have much time left.” I had definitely brought up a topic that he did not want to discuss. I did not even know what I had said it. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything”

  He leaned over and kissed my forehead, “I did say we would talk about it later. It’s just a sensitive topic, so I hesitate to get into it.”

  “And I don’t want to force you into anything.”

  “No. You should know.” Jonathan slid out from under me and out from under the sheets. He stood next to the bed and pointed to the scars on his hip. “These are scars about my past. I gave them to myself. I cut myself, hoping that the pain in my heart would go away.”

  “You cut…yourself?”

  Jonathan nodded. “I’m not proud of it. And quite frankly, it didn’t work.”

  I was afraid to ask, and I was pretty sure I knew the answer, “Who gave you the pain in your heart that made you want to do this?”

  “Him. I carry the scars and hold on to those damn letters. All because of him.”

  I looked at the scars. Slashes across his skin. At one point they must have looked hideous. Now, they were faded. They were still very visible, but not the same as fresh cuts. They almost faded away as if they were part of him always.

  “What did you do?”

  “I took a razor to myself. I just wanted the pain of him leaving me to be gone.”
<
br />   I looked at the slashes on his skin. I could not imagine feeling so hurt that I would want to cut myself. I also could not imagine hurting myself to make the pain I was feeling inside disappear. Just because I could not imagine or do it did not mean that others could.

  I slowly crawled towards him. I looked at the scars. After a few minutes, I reached up to touch. I had touched many men, but this was different. This was touching a personal spot, something with a story and a history. He flinched as my fingers made contact with his skin.

  “Sorry.”

  I looked up at him, “You shouldn’t be sorry.”

  “No. I flinched. I should be over it.”

  How does someone get over the hurt that caused them to cut themselves? I did not know. Nor did I understand why he was apologizing for it.

  “I want to kiss these scars.”

  Jonathan laughed.

  “No, really. They caused you pain, and I want to kiss them away.”

  Jonathan stepped back from the bed. “I can’t let you do that.”

  I did not know what to do next. I did want to kiss him on his scars, to let him know that I wanted to heal him the only way that I could. It was clear that the scars were more than he wanted to talk about or acknowledge right now.

  I fell back on the bed, “Jonathan, I want to help you heal, but I don’t know what to do.”

  “You’ve done more than you know.” He looked at me, laying supine on the bed. “I don’t think you know what you have done to me.”

  Could it be that I had affected him like he had affected me? Did his heart flutter when I walked into a room like mine did when he arrived? Did my exposed and naked body on this bed make him want me like I wanted him as I stared at him standing next to the bed?

  “These scars mean nothing now that I’ve found you. I thought I knew love before. When it left, I cut myself. Now that I know you, I only want to be with you.” He crawled onto the bed and lay next to me. “It’s going to be miserable being away from you.”

  “Will you be able to call?”

  “Of course, I’m not going to be in a prison. I’ll park at a friend’s house until I find work and possibly get a place. The camper ain’t much, but at least there’s a bed. Home is literally wherever I go.”

  Someday maybe home would be where both of us were, together. Our hands found each other and we intertwined our fingers.

  “Can I ask you a favor?”

  I nodded.

  “I want you to hold on to those letters for me. I don’t want to take them with me, because I know I’ll read them when I’m feeling sad. I want to put some distance between me and them.”

  “But you still want to keep them?” If they caused him this much pain, wouldn’t it be better to get rid of them?

  “I had thought about throwing them away, or tossing them in a fire. I don’t think I’m ready to do that. And who knows, maybe with some time and additional healing, I’ll be able to read them again and not have the same reaction. Maybe I’ll still want to keep them. If they’re here, I know they’ll be safe but not anywhere that I can get them. Does that make sense?”

  I shrugged. I did not really understand, but I knew that sometimes it was hard to let go of a physical thing because there was so much emotion tied to it.

  He leaned over and kissed me. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

  It probably would be okay. However, if I had learned anything in the past year, it was that the future was hard to predict. We could make plans, but those were thrown off the rails when some unforeseen event happened. I had not planned on falling for the man I hired to help fix the cabins, but one day he was there and life would never be the same. If he left for a couple weeks, months, or even more, did we have a real chance at being together down the road? So much could happen. I might never see Jonathan Clay again.

  We agreed that we needed to get some rest, rolled on our sides, and closed our eyes. Jonathan’s arm was hooked over me and I had slid in close to him. This might be the last time we ever got to sleep like this, and I savored the touch.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jonathan pulled away around noon. I forced myself to watch him go. I needed to face that reality.

  That afternoon, I was grateful for a couple families checking out and the flurry of activity that created in the office. It was a nice distraction from my thoughts, and it kept the silence and aloneness at bay. Once the clock hands moved to five o’clock, there was not much escape.

  I thought about what to do with my evening. I did not want to eat alone and knock around in an empty house. Still, I would have to experience it at some point.

  Cody knocked on the office door before I had been able to decide whether I cooked for myself or hung out at the restaurant for the evening. I waved him in. The door was still unlocked.

  “Not working tonight?”

  “Afternoon break. I’ll be heading back in a bit for the possible lunch rush.”

  I realized I had not texted Cody again about Jonathan.

  “I didn’t see Jonathan’s truck. I was hoping to catch him.”

  I sighed, “I should have told you. Jonathan decided to go back to Colorado. He left around midday.”

  “He left?” Cody shook his head. “Why did he leave?”

  “He was worried that if he stayed, he would be putting his sobriety in jeopardy. The encounter with your mom really shook him up.”

  “That’s bullshit. He’s running away from whatever he did. He can’t face up to what he did or the people he hurt.” Cody’s face was turning red as the anger exploded out of him. “Where did he go?”

  I held my hand up to try to get his attention. Cody had it wrong about Jonathan. He would not run from responsibility. He was trying to be responsible. “He went to Colorado. Back where he went into treatment. He needs to be around people who can support him.”

  “Did he tell you what he did? Did he?” Cody’s voice was elevated and shrill. “I can’t get my mom to answer my calls. I don’t think she’s ever going to tell me.”

  I stepped around the registration desk and approached Cody. I still wanted to keep my distance while he was agitated. “Hey, maybe we should save the anger and yelling until after we know what happened. I know you love your mom, but maybe she is trying to protect you from something.”

  The dam burst and Cody’s anger and rage changed into tears. His face scrunched up as the drops formed and fell down his cheek. I reached out for him again and he turned to accept the hug. He buried his face in my chest. He body shook as the crying continued. I held on to him. There were no words to say to him. He had every right to be angry with Jonathan. Something had happened in their past. Any good son would want to protect his mother from a threat.

  “Come on. Let’s go into George’s place. We can sit and talk. I can make you something to eat.”

  He followed slowly. As we walked down the porch to George’s front door, I looked up at the sky. Monsoon storm clouds had formed. It looked like today might be an intense storm. I hope it brought rain and not just thunder and lightning. We had lucked out this summer that there had not been any wildfires. However, if things continued to stay this dry, the risk of a fire from a lightning storm increased dramatically.

  I directed him to George’s couch, “Maybe you should call out tonight. I don’t think you should be working. You need to take some time for yourself to process all of this.”

  “You’re probably right. Let me see if I can get someone to cover.”

  I left him to start sorting out that problem. Sometimes a good distraction did the trick to get the mind to not obsess over things. Maybe he will come down long enough to be able to talk this out. I did not think he would ever get to the point to see Jonathan’s side, but maybe he would start to see him as less than a villain.

  I pulled out a pork roast and some vegetables and started to prepare dinner. I realized that I had not been thinking about Jonathan. I had thought my evening would be nothing but thinking and worrying about him.
Cody was not the only one in need of a distraction to keep from obsessing.

  “I found coverage.”

  “Good. You can hang out with me. I was afraid to be alone tonight.”

  Cody looked at me, “I hear ya. Sucks when your boyfriend takes off and leaves you, huh?”

  I realized Cody knew very well what I was feeling. Alex had left to do some speaking engagements and book promotion. He had left Cody behind because he had a commitment to Joe and Molly to help them out at the restaurant. Now, Jonathan had left me behind.

  “At least you get to leave your home and interact with people. I only get to wander in the next room and maybe talk to a cabin guest.”

  “It’s a glamorous life I lead.”

  I pointed down to the vegetables. “Want to help? I could use a hand cutting these while I work on the marinade for the roast.”

  “I work better if there’s a drink nearby.”

  “So do I. However, I was worried that I might overdo it being along and depressed.” The last thing I needed was to start binge drinking the day Jonathan left. That seemed to be the opposite of supportive.

  “I’m not sure I can help the depressed, but if I’m here, you won’t be alone.”

  He may be young, but he was wise. I went to retrieve a bottle of vodka from their hiding place, grabbed some mixers from the fridge, and started mixing drinks. “This is usually your job.”

  “It’s my night off. Cranberry for me, please.”

  We busied ourselves with the meal preparations. Finally, Cody asked, “So, did the two of you break up?”

  “That’s a good question. No, there was no official break up. There has also never been an official ‘We’re dating’ either.”