What We Want
Human Nature, Volume 1
Eliott Griffen
Published by Eliott Griffen, 2019.
What We Want
By
Eliott Griffen
Version 2.0—March 2019.
Published by Eliott Griffen
Discover other titles by Eliott Griffen at eliottscribbles.com
Copyright © 2019 by Eliott Griffen
Editor Charlie Knight
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Sign up for Eliott Griffen's Mailing List
About the Author
For my Mom, who always knew.
I miss you.
Chapter 1
Silence in the house that died five years ago was broken only by the gurgling sound of the coffee maker. Early morning light and gray walls made everything look like a forgotten black-and-white photograph; an appropriate setting for a man who wanted to forget. The notion that he was bringing death and grief anywhere he went never really diminished. Whatever this house was before, it ended when he first stepped through its door.
Rob walked down the hall, trying to suppress the urge to straighten that damn picture frame on the left wall. Two steps forward, then three back. He lost the battle with himself once again.
You will drive me insane. I hate you. I’m moving you from the hallway ASAP.
“Morning, Meow,” he said to the cat as he came into the kitchen.
The furry nuisance jumped from the window bench, aiming for his legs and his attention. He bent and scratched Meow behind ears.
“Hey, little boy. Did you sleep well?” Yellow eyes blinked at him.
He emptied a can of cat food into one bowl and refilled the other with fresh water. While waiting for coffee to finish brewing, he poured himself some juice and sat at the dining table looking out of the window. His eyes wandered over the room he spent most of his time in. Everything had its place, everything was aligned perfectly. The only clutter allowed were magnets on the fridge, and even they were placed in a pattern known only to Rob. The counters were almost empty, except for the few potted plants.
Oh no.
He got up and picked one of them up. Dry, yellow leaves fell off. Everything around me dies. He opened the trash can and gently placed the plant in it before sitting back at the table.
Mrs. Wheeler across the street slowly backed her bright orange mini-van out of their driveway. Did she know he was watching? Her kids yelled at each other in the backseat. Did they think he was weird? He shook his head.
“There goes the juice-bus,” he told Meow.
The cat was purring and drowning in food, completely ignoring Rob.
Even in February, when the naked trees in front of his house blocked his view, he knew his neighbor’s routines. Daisy, two houses down, went to the gym and then to work as a kindergarten teacher. The Maxwell’s, in the cutesy cottage style house on the corner, were one of those couples. They did everything together, even worked for the same law firm. They were always holding hands, kissing, and touching. Yeah, too much PDA for Rob’s taste.
All of them had their routines. He sighed loudly.
Marge Steel, his next-door neighbor and the only neighbor he actually talked to, would have to change her routine. She was no longer a caregiver. Rob knew about being alone. The last five years had taught him. He was a close acquaintance of bone crushing emptiness.
Movement on the sidewalk caught his attention. A tall and slim man in minuscule shorts ran by his hedge and turned into the driveway next door. A gray hood obscured his face, and even though Rob never saw him before, he knew it could only be one person.
“That must be Zachary Steel, the estranged son. So, he’s home...” Meow the cat jumped on the table and rubbed his head against Rob’s hand.
“Come on, Meow. We’ve talked about this before. No cats on the table. Get down.” The cat walked over the tabletop, waving his tail, and skipped down to the bench. He sat, lifted his hind leg, and licked himself.
“I almost forgot to ask, how was your Valentine’s Day?”
Meow lifted his head with a ‘what kind of question is that, hooman?’ look in his glowing yellow eyes.
“That good, huh? I’m jealous and want details.”
Rob got up and poured himself some coffee.
“I was thinking scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast.”
He opened the fridge and took out some eggs, then closed it before remembering bacon and going back in. Meow was watching his every move. He opened the cupboard and took one bowl from the row of perfectly aligned bowls.
“What do you say?” he smiled.
He put the pan on the stove and cracked the eggs in a bowl, then went in search of the whisk.
“You know, Amy was very specific about her eggs. If they were scrambled, they had to be fried until they were absolutely dry. Rachel could rarely get it right and it pissed her off. And, man, did she hate milk and soggy cereal. Early morning temper tantrums were...”
Another loud sigh pushed out of his lungs as he trailed off. No, not going there. Especially not today.
He put the plate with eggs and bacon on the table and went to take the bread out of the toaster. When he came back to the table, he moved his plate and a cup of coffee until they were just right. Days like this made him worse. Everything he fought to forget threatened to come crashing over him. He could block the past sometimes. Sometimes he had to schedule a crying session. Life is hard, and it’s even harder when it’s confusing.
Rob took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, determined to control his emotions. This was his life now. Pushing through to the end was the only way he knew. One day at the time, survive without falling apart.
Meow was waiting for him on the chair next to his, watching the arranging ritual closely.
Rob sat down and put a few little bites on the saucer in front of the cat.
“Let’s eat, my little pissy pussy.”
Meow turned to him and looked him straight in the eye.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Rob laughed, putting his hands up in mock surrender. “Eat your breakfast, you scariest of all scary beasts.”
Meow took a bite of bacon and chewed loudly, apparently pissed off but satisfied with the snack and apology for now.
This is going to be a long day.
>
Chapter 2
Zach ran to the front door and rested his hands on his knees. Wind cooled his sweat too fast. It felt like ice cubes sliding down his back. Mornings were still freezing, and his outfit was completely wrong, but he couldn’t care less. Thank God the front door didn’t creak anymore. Clinking and banging followed by sighing told him Marge was already in the kitchen. He snuck up the stairs and got in the shower.
“Hey, honey. Did you sleep well?” Marge hugged him as he entered the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mom. I slept like a baby,” he said before kissing her silky cheek.
He hadn’t stepped foot in this house in 12 years before this return. The kitchen was the same shade of yellow as it was when he was a boy. The smell of vanilla and burned milk took him back to all those mornings getting ready for school. The memories felt bittersweet, itching under his skin and urging him to go, to run. I just need to survive this funeral and get back home as soon as possible. This place will suffocate me.
“You were up early.” Marge poured her son a cup of coffee and went back to making French toast.
“Carson woke me. I swear to God I’ll kill him someday.” Zach took a sip of coffee and sat at the breakfast table. His mother’s slim back was slightly bent, gray bob slightly out of shape, and the bags under her eyes told the story of sleepless nights and pain of loss.
But her smile was there for him.
“I miss Carson. It would be nice to have him here now,” Marge said.
“They had some sort of a fire at the lab; he couldn’t say much. It’s all hush-hush, top secret, but he was pissed that he couldn’t take a couple of days off. He sends his love in his dramatic way.” Zach waved his hand.
“He’s not dramatic.” Marge put the plate with French toast on the table.
“Yeah, right? He said he would have to kill somebody to get a day off, but there is no quality boyfriend material in maximum security prisons.” Zach snorted.
“He’s right. No future in those relationships,” Marge said as she sat next to him. He rolled his eyes. His mother and his best friend were a dream team. Sometimes Carson was more of her son than Zach could ever be. “You two are light of my life.” Her eyes were still sparkling.
“Thanks, Mom. We love you too.” He kissed her again and hugged her tight. “When do we need to be there?”
“We have enough time, honey. We’ll get dressed after breakfast and then we can go.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Robert will come later to help.”
“Robert?” Who the hell is Robert?
“Yes, Rob, the neighbor. He was here yesterday, but he left before you came. We made arrangements for today. He’s such a nice man, so sad...” She sighed.
Here we go.
“Sad?” Zach asked feigning interest.
“Yes, you know... I told you about him. His wife and daughter died in a car crash...”
“Oh, that neighbor, I remember. Tragic. But wasn’t it like five years ago? He’s still alone?” I'm leaving soon, there is no need to get involved in neighborhood soap opera.
“Yes. He lives in that damn house all alone. Well, except for the cat. I have no idea what he does with his time. He should find some nice lady and—”
“Mom! Don’t meddle please.”
“What?! I’m just saying. He’s 45, no spring chicken, you know. He shouldn’t stay alone—”
“Drop it, please. Let the man be.” Zach threw the napkin on the table.
“It’s a lonely existence, honey.” Marge wasn’t giving up.
“You have Carson and me to torture with your matchmaking and never-ending interrogations. Don’t do that to the neighbors, too.” Zach was pleading. And she did torture them, every chance she got.
“You boys do keep me occupied. OK, I’ll drop it. For now.” She smirked.
Zach rolled his eyes again. “God help us all.”
“Oh, shush!”
Chapter 3
There was a knock on the door and Zach turned away from the mirror just as his aunt walked into the room.
“Wassup, Z?”
“Aunt G!”
Zach hugged her and smiled into her bright gray eyes. Same as his father's, same as his own.
“Oh, you handsome little devil, you...”
“Not an appropriate comment today, Gerry.” Zach frowned while she patted his tie.
“Blah, blah! I’m just stating the fact. Besides, he was my brother and I will mourn him the way I want.” She squeezed his shoulders. “I’ve missed you so much. It’s been months,” she twirled, “since we danced the night away in New York.”
Zach smiled at his aunt. God, he loved her. She was his childhood best friend, and she knew every little thing about him. He even came out to her first. Now, at 60, with her platinum blond pixie cut and smooth skin, no one would give her a day over 40.
“I see you still practicing that forever-young witchcraft. Carson is jealous, and he wants in on it.”
“Nope, I will never tell.” Gerry shook her head.
“Seriously, you look amazing.” Zach smiled.
“Thank you, Z.” Gerry stood on her toes and kissed him on the forehead.
“We should go, don’t wanna be late. Marge would kill us.”
“Zach showed up somewhere on time, the world is ending!” Gerry shook her head and laughed.
“Yeah, yeah...you’re one to talk.”
They went down the stairs hand in hand, then separated when Gerry went to get her jacket. Hushed voices came from the kitchen, but they stopped as soon as he entered. By the window, with his mother, stood a man Zach had never seen before. His dark brown hair was cut short and the light from the window turned his gray temples to silver. He was maybe an inch shorter than Zach’s six feet but wider; even with the suit on his muscles were obvious. Deep set green eyes captivated Zach from the moment he turned and smiled. High cheekbones and a straight nose gave him almost aristocratic look, but smile on those full lips was the thing that stopped Zach in his track.
“Zach, come and meet Rob.” Marge put her hand under Rob’s elbow.
Oh, man, I didn’t need this. Not now. Carson will laugh his ass off.
He walked the final few steps and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” A deep strong voice made his skin tingle.
So not the moment for this...
“Thank you.”
“Well, you can get to know each other when we get back. Zach, honey, get your aunt and we can leave.” Marge patted Rob’s hand and smiled at him. “You’ll be fine here till we come back, won’t you?”
“Yes, Marge. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.”
“Thank you, Rob.”
“You’re welcome,” Rob said. He looked at Zach and smiled.
Zach almost choked. Why do things like this keep happening to me?
He turned and left the kitchen before his thoughts about the neighbor became obvious to everyone. He had to keep his body’s reactions to himself.
Not today, Satan. Not today.
Chapter 4
The viewing room at the funeral home was easily the most sordid room Zach had ever seen. Brown, brown wherever you looked. Brown carpet, dark brown wood benches, light brown walls, and brown drapes. Gross.
He sat in the front row between his mother and aunt Gerry for hours. People came and went, but he felt disconnected. He didn’t know half of them and the other half he had no desire to see. Their words just floated around his head, but nothing got through. None of them knew what to say to him. None of them knew the truth.
Soft voices and murmurs faded into background, creating perfect white noise, and ultimately disappeared.
“Zach, honey.” Marge took his hand. “It’s time to go home.”
“Huh?” He blinked. Marge was still next to him, but Gerry was gone. He turned around and saw her standing in front of the coffin.
“I’m going to say goodbye to George now, and then Gerry and I will wait for
you outside. You take your time, OK?” She took his face in her hands and looked right into his eyes. “OK, honey?”
“Yeah, Mom, OK.” He tried to smile. Marge kissed his cheek and went to Gerry. He heard them whispering and saw Gerry walk out. After a minute or two, Marge followed.
He was alone with his father.
Zach slowly got up and came to stand in front of his father for the last time. Then he looked down.
When did that huge strong man that once carried him on his shoulders became this unnaturally yellow shell of a man squeezed into this small wooden box?
He put his hand on the cold forearm. A shiver shook him to the bone.
“I’m here, Dad. I came.” His vision blurred. “I’m sorry.”
It’s summer and Zach is 10.
I think Matty is way cuter than Sophie. Way cuter....
His daddy is yelling at him. Says Zach is a faggot. What is a faggot? Ferret? What?
Mommy is defending him and Daddy yells at her.
Then he’s yelling at Zach again.
Yelling for years...
Scorching hot tears finally fell.
“I was just a baby. I didn’t know why you hated me.”
It’s winter and Zach is 16.
He’s going out with Jax. Jax is hot, he plays baseball, and has a body to die for. At least Zach is dying every time he sees Jax in his uniform pants. Jax is at the door and Zach crosses the hallway.
Zachary! Come in here!
Oh, no... Dad never talks to him these days. Zach enters the living room.
You have two more years of high school. Dad is watching him with those cold gray eyes.
Yes. Where is this going?
You will choose the farthest possible college. You will leave and you will not come back.
Wh-what?
You will LEAVE and you will NEVER come back. I’ll be damned if I let you flaunt your... lifestyle in front of every single person I know. You have two more years.
“You made me feel filthy, sick, and confused.”
With shaky hands he tried to wipe away damned tears, but there was no stopping them now.
What We Want Page 1
