by J P Barnaby
“Oh, Mom, this is my friend Jordan. Jordan, my mom, who will probably tell you to call her Mom, because I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have a first name anymore.”
His mother smacked him on the arm and waved at Jordan.
“Okay, I’m guessing from the lack of aroma coming from the kitchen that no one is cooking, so how about we order out for a pizza, and I’ll do laundry while you guys watch a movie?” she asked, bending down to take off her shoes. She hadn’t quite made it out of them before Aaron ambushed her at the door.
“We already ordered pizza, and I did the laundry last night. So why don’t you watch that movie with us?” Aaron asked, backing up so his mom could head into the kitchen.
“I think that’s a great idea,” she said and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out the ice tea he’d made in a fit of anxious nerves while waiting for Dr. Thomas to pick him up that morning. Thinking of Dr. Thomas brought another subject to mind.
“Jordan, what did Spencer say to the text you sent?”
Jordan walked over to the counter and checked the phone.
“He didn’t say anything. He didn’t reply at all.”
Fourteen
A SICK ache twisted Spencer’s gut as he thought about the text from the night before. Jordan—not Aaron, but Jordan—telling him that Aaron didn’t want to talk to him. He’d been going fucking nuts all day worrying about the meeting with the prosecutor. Finally, about eight, he’d called his father to get the lowdown because he couldn’t stand not knowing anymore. His father told him about the meds, and he understood. It hurt, especially since some other guy was taking care of his boyfriend when he should have been there. The image of Aaron kissing some blond stranger in a moment of weakness tortured him.
He sat at his desk, staring at Aaron’s name on his chat list, gray and silent.
They were ramping up the testing, trying to get it done by Thanksgiving break in just two weeks. He tried to muster up the enthusiasm he needed to be excited about a January 1 launch. It meant they would deliver on time, and his very first project as a technical lead would be a success. A dark voice in the back of his mind asked if Aaron would still be in his life when their software launched, but he blocked it out and focused on what he needed to do.
[Clare] Sorry I’m late. Kid problems.
[Spencer] You have a little boy, right?
He remembered her talking about needing a babysitter the night they went out dancing, something they’d only done that one time.
[Clare] Yeah, my mom is sick, so when I dropped Kaden at my parents’ house and Dad took him instead of Mom, he had a meltdown. It’s weird what will set kids off. If he thinks I didn’t hug him long enough before I leave, he screams.
[Spencer] Sounds like fun…. Not. ;)
[Clare] You’ve never thought about having kids.
[Spencer] Nope. Never thought I’d find anyone to put up with me long term.
[Clare] And now?
[Spencer] And now I’m still not sure I’ve found someone who’s going to stick around. Even if he does, I don’t think Aaron would deal well with kids. In some ways, he’s kind of a kid himself.
[Clare] Yeah, and trust me, doing it alone isn’t easy.
[Spencer] His dad doesn’t help out at all?
[Clare] His dad died about a year ago when Kaden was six months old. Cancer.
[Spencer] Oh God, I’m so sorry. And Kaden?
[Clare] No signs, at least not yet. We’re hopeful.
No other messages came through, and Spencer tried to process the bomb she’d just hit him with, and a flush of heat rose in his face and neck. Other people had much more significant problems than whether their boyfriend, terrified of sex, would have kissed another guy. The argument in his head bordered on ludicrous. Of course Aaron hadn’t done anything with that guy. If he had developed feelings, they’d deal with it. The two priorities in his life right then were helping to get Aaron through the trial and launching his software on time. Everything else was just noise.
Making a decision, he opened his e-mail and typed Eric’s name in the address line.
To: Eric Stancel
From: Spencer Thomas
Subject: Personal Time Off
Eric,
I know this isn’t the best time, and I apologize for that, but I have a family emergency. Susan in HR said I’ve accumulated five days of PTO including sick time, and I’d like to know if I can take it December 9-13. We’ve put the VPN in place so we can remote desktop into our work computers, so I can check in at night. I’ve also loaded my corporate e-mail on my phone.
Thank you,
Spencer
Spencer Thomas
Integration Technical Lead
Voyager Technologies
Ahead of the curve, one technology at a time.
SPENCER WENT to his dad’s that weekend, even though he only had a three-day week the next week and would spend Thanksgiving in the suburbs. His heart ached as he sat in on a session between his father and Aaron in which Aaron had to talk over and over again about being left for dead on the floor next to Juliette. They had planned to work on something else, but Aaron flat-out refused to recite whatever it was with Spencer there.
“Aaron., I. Am. Going. To. Hear. It. In. Court. Anyway.,” Spencer said as he picked up his dinner plate from the table that night and put it in the sink. When he turned to take Aaron’s, he saw Aaron staring at him, the shards of his own plate scattered like confetti around the hardwood floor. The horror in Aaron’s face permeated even the drugs his father had insisted Aaron take before the session started. God, he hated to watch Aaron struggle as they shut him down.
“What.?” Spencer asked as he kneeled to pick up the pieces of chicken Aaron moved around his plate but didn’t eat during dinner.
“I do not want you there. Do not come to court,” Aaron signed, moving his hands slowly and deliberately to make sure there were no questions about what he meant.
“What do you mean? Of course I am coming to court. My boss already approved the time off.” Spencer stared at Aaron. “I would not let you go through that alone.”
“Why not? You left. I go through everything alone.” Aaron’s mouth moved as he signed, doing what Spencer generally did, talking and signing at once. At some other time, he might have been moved that Aaron felt so comfortable signing. Right then, however, the power of Aaron’s words pushed the knife deep into his heart.
“I am trying to build a future for us.”
“What happens when you build your future and there is no us?”
Spencer didn’t know if the drugs were talking or if Aaron really felt that way, but the pain of it stole his breath. He stopped picking up the shards of plate and looked up at Aaron, who towered above him. His helplessness weighed on his chest, and he had to remember to breathe.
“Look, I have to focus on this trial or I am not going to make it. I cannot add the stress of us on top of that. I love you, Spencer. I do, but maybe we should not see each other again until after the trial. Just give me a few weeks.” Aaron walked to the rec room, and it took Spencer a minute to follow. He couldn’t wrap his head around what just happened. The drugs in Aaron’s system had to be affecting his judgment. He couldn’t have just told Spencer he wanted to take a break from their relationship.
Aaron hoisted his backpack up on one shoulder when Spencer walked into the rec room, but without another word, he shuffled past Spencer with a quick kiss on the cheek and headed for the door. His father followed, ready to take Aaron home. He considered going after Aaron but thought better of it as he watched the front door close behind the guy he loved more than anything on earth.
What the fuck just happened?
Fifteen
“GOD, AM I glad to see you,” Aaron said as he met Allen on the porch with the biggest hug one brother could possibly give another. Allen dropped his bag of laundry from one hand and his duffel of clean clothes from the other and hugged Aaron back. They stayed like that for probably a minut
e too long, until their mother appeared in the doorway waiting for her hugs. Their father brought up Allen’s other backpack from the car. He and Anthony had made the drive to collect Allen from college. Aaron had wanted to go but stayed for his session with Dr. Thomas and a phone call from Mr. Sorensen. The trial date hadn’t changed, and Aaron counted down the days with mounting dread. On that, the day before Thanksgiving, the magic number stood at twelve. In less than two weeks he would be forced to sit in front of the monsters who destroyed his life and recite with horrible accuracy all the things they did to him.
He shook off the dark thought and shouldered Allen’s laundry bag as their mother hugged Allen. Anthony shot between Aaron and doorframe, dodging the foyer table to head down the hall. Aaron followed at a slower pace, struggling with the canvas bag overstuffed with dirty clothes. He dropped them in the kitchen next to the stairs for the basement and went into the family room to leave Allen time with his parents. He and Allen could catch up later.
As he curled up on the couch, Aaron wondered if Spencer would be spending the weekend with his dad and maybe Nell, who Spencer had thought might fly up for the weekend. God, he hated being away from Spencer. He hurt every fucking day, but with the expectations and the responsibility of keeping Spencer happy gone, he found he could concentrate on his sessions with Dr. Thomas and on the testimony he would have to give. The prosecutor said they’d had a couple of pretrial motions, whatever that meant, but he would still need to be there a week from Monday to start his testimony. It might go on to Tuesday but shouldn’t take longer than that. He needed to be there until the jury went into deliberation, and then again for the verdict and sentencing. The prosecutor wanted Aaron’s scarred, pathetic face in front of the jury to help bolster his case.
And Aaron would go, because he owed it to Juliette.
He’d tried to tell his mother she didn’t need to be there. She hadn’t heard all of the gory details and didn’t need to live with those images in her head. But the prosecutor said her visibility with the jury would also be key. Dr. Thomas, the one person who had heard all of his darkest secrets, didn’t have to show up but assured Aaron he would. All hands on deck for the maiden voyage of the S.S. Humiliation.
His phone rang, muffled in his pocket, and he checked the display before answering.
“Hey, Jordan.”
“Hey.” His voice sounded as dry and brittle as the leaves on the late autumn trees outside his window. Aaron’s gut twisted at the lack of joking affection in Jordan’s voice. Allen and his mother came laughing and talking down the hall, so Aaron ducked into the downstairs bathroom so he could hear.
“You okay?”
“Not really.”
“What’s up? You want to come over?” Aaron asked. He’d never been to Jordan’s house, but he’d already taken his meds and didn’t feel great about getting behind the wheel right then.
“I don’t… I don’t know, maybe. My mom just got picked up for a DUI. It’s not her first, so they’re gonna keep her. I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“Give me your address. We’ll come and get you. I can’t drive right now, but my brother can. You can stay here for the weekend. Okay? Pack a bag.”
Aaron wrote down Jordan’s address and stumbled a little as he opened the bathroom door. Voices from the kitchen drew his attention, and he went that way. Allen sat on one of the stools at the island while their mother laid a crust into a pie pan. In the bowl next to it sat a light fudge-colored concoction that he assumed was chocolate pie filling. Vaguely, he remembered sitting where Allen had while his mother and grandmother flitted around the kitchen making preparations for Thanksgiving Day.
“Mom, uhm….” Aaron started and then decided he probably should have talked to his parents before asking Jordan to stay, but the words were out before he really thought about them. He didn’t want his friend to hurt. Jordan helped his sanity so much since he’d heard about that damn trial. He kept things light and didn’t know the extent of Aaron’s trauma. With Jordan, he could be kind of normal.
“What is it, honey?” she asked, putting down the fork she’d just used in a vicious, stabbing crustocide.
“Jordan is having some family problems. His mom won’t be home, and he’ll be alone for Thanksgiving. I… I kind of asked him to stay here.” Aaron rushed, surprised his words didn’t get jumbled somewhere between his pharmaceutically addled brain and his mouth.
“Oh, honey, well…. Well, okay, we’ll make it work.” His mother picked up the bowl and started spooning the gloop into the crust. His mother had such a wonderful, kind soul. She could not keep from helping a kid in trouble. The fact that the kid was a friend of her broken son would have made it even more imperative.
“Allen, he’s so upset, I didn’t want him to drive. Can you take me to pick him up? I know you just got home, I’m sorry, but it’s only about ten minutes from here,” Aaron said hopefully. Allen looked at him for a long minute with his brows furrowed. Aaron’s heart stuttered because he really thought Allen would say no.
“That’s the first time you’ve ever asked me for anything, man. Of course, I will.” Allen stood up. “Mom, we’ll be right back. Tell Anthony to get ready to get his ass kicked in Mario Kart when I get back.”
“Allen Peter,” his mother cried. “No language like that in my kitchen.” Then she lowered her voice and winked. “But he will be so warned.”
Aaron grabbed the little key chain, emblazoned with a panther paw from their high school, and tossed it to Allen. He thought about asking Anthony to join them, but he wanted to talk to Allen about their brother, so he said nothing as they went out the front door and climbed into Allen’s Mustang. Aaron had pulled the car out of the garage and parked it on the street so his brother would have access to it during his visit home.
“It feels weird to drive,” Allen said with a laugh and turned the engine over. “I take the bus or walk everywhere on campus. Chad has a car, so sometimes we’ll take that and go out to dinner.”
“I’ve been driving it since you left for school. It’s been a really big help.”
“I’m glad you finally got your license, slacker.” Allen smirked as he pulled out of the subdivision and onto the main road. God, Aaron had missed him. He was the only one who ever gave Aaron shit about anything. “Okay, where are we going?”
Aaron plugged the address into his phone and let it call out the immediate directions. When it stopped talking, he started.
“We don’t have much time, but I wanted to talk to you about Anthony.”
“You still think he’s using?” Allen glanced quickly at his brother. Allen and Anthony had been in the shit together when Aaron first came home from the hospital. Aaron saw them as the two musketeers, limping along after losing their third.
“Yeah, I do.” Aaron didn’t want to put it quite so bluntly, but he wanted to get the foundation laid before they picked up Jordan. Allen would be upset, and he didn’t need to get upset in front of a stranger.
“Why would you say that?” Allen’s voice held more resignation than surprise.
“He’s gone all the time to ‘parties.’ Neither of us partied like that at fourteen. He stays over at his friend Chase’s a lot. There’s rarely anyone at our house—why don’t they stay there? And, well, he’s come home a couple of times looking stoned and stumbling,” Aaron explained. He hoped with all his heart Jordan was wrong, but it didn’t look likely.
“You’re sure it’s not booze?”
“Yeah, he didn’t smell like it when we picked him up.”
“What do you think it is? Pot? Coke? Worse?”
“Jordan was with me one time when he came home, and he thinks Anthony is going to pharm parties.”
“There aren’t any farms around here.”
“Not farm F-A-R-M, but pharm P-H-A-R-M. He said that kids bring prescription drugs from home and throw them in a big bowl and then take them and get high.” Aaron hated the way that sounded because he really didn
’t get why anyone would take a drug like that if they didn’t have to. He wished every day he could function without them.
“How would he know?”
“He used to do it.”
“Great. Have you talked to Anthony or Mom?” Allen asked, and Aaron noticed his hands tighten on the wheel. The computerized GPS voice called out another upcoming turn, and he flipped on the signal.
“No. I didn’t want to believe it was true. In fact, I told myself Mom was hiding my pills rather than face the idea that Anthony had stolen them. Then when Dr. Thomas put me on these new ones, I kept them in Mom and Dad’s bathroom like I used to. A few days ago, I came home from a session and Anthony was in my room. The drawer where I used to keep the pills I hid wasn’t closed all the way.” Now that Aaron said it aloud, it sounded so stupid. He should have known.
“You didn’t confront him about it?”
“No, I wanted to talk to you about it. He listens to you. And you’re right, because of me, he’s had such a shit life. I didn’t want to make it worse by telling our parents he has a drug problem.”
“We don’t know that he has a drug problem. You drank to hide the pain, but you quit. Maybe we can get him to quit.” Allen pulled up in front of a three-floor apartment building and put the car into park. Both of them looked out the window at the same time, and Allen hit the locks.
“This is where your friend lives?” Allen asked, and Aaron tried to pry his gaze away from the small group of guys who looked like gangbangers you’d see on television. They were just standing around by the front door of the apartment building, smoking and drinking out of a paper bag they seemed to be passing around.
“The sign says it’s 2304, so this has to be it.”
“I’m not getting out of the car, and neither are you. Call him and tell him we’re out front.”
Though Allen was the younger brother, his voice made it clear he would accept no argument even if Aaron had been inclined to give one. But no way was he getting out of the car, not even for Jordan. Those guys scared the fuck out of him.
