“How about we hold off until the next visit. She appeared a little on edge, and I want her to like me.”
“Edge?” he guffawed. “It’ll only get worse from here on out, but I’m sure she’ll ease into parenthood. I did, but I was blessed with a good son who’s becoming a great man.”
“I love you, Dad.”
Christopher’s smile said it all. “How about that drink?”
Mitch dropped his gaze to the nearly empty glass that consisted mostly of melting ice cubes. “Instead of bourbon, can I have a Diet Dr. Pepper? That stuff tastes like liquid chalk and burns a line of fire straight to my belly.”
Christopher stood and walked to the refrigerator. “After I dig out the antacids,” he tossed over his shoulder, “I’ll join you in one. I have a feeling I need to stay clearheaded for the next eighteen years or so.”
Chapter Nine
Austin stepped into the dark room, shades drawn tight. The air in the overcrowded doublewide trailer was stale and stagnant. Making room on a crowded counter by clearing it with his elbow, he set down the bags of groceries he had suspended from both hands in what passed as the kitchen, nothing but a few chipped and peeling cabinets, a sink that dripped endlessly, and outdated appliances that were as stubborn as his mother.
Looking back through the trailer to his mother’s room, Austin became instantly depressed, and anxiety infiltrated his chest, constricting his oxygen. Breathe, he coached before the building panic attack sent him running out the door.
“Mom.” It came out as a whisper. He made the attempt again, forcing the air from his lungs. “Mom.”
There was a rustle of fabric, a squeaking of metal. Some time had passed before the throaty crackle of phlegm clearing in a throat sounded from the half-open door of the bedroom.
“Honey, is that you?” More rustling but this time accompanied by labored breathing. “Give me a second. I was in a deep sleep.”
Austin set about putting the groceries away that Kristin had requested he pick up before his weekly visit. The shopping list was nothing like Austin’s, there were no fruits except for the sugar-coated apple in the apple pie. She appeared, her hips rubbing the wood veneer paneling along the short walkway into the combination kitchen-living room area, her blonde hair more gray than Austin last remembered.
“Hey, Mom,” he greeted as Kristin patted her unruly mop into something passable. “Sleeping in today?”
Her laugh sounded like that of a guilty person’s. “I was up way too late watching television. There was a Housewives marathon.” Kristin hefted her weight toward her son and kissed his cheek. “Did you get what I asked for? None of that no-sugar-added ice cream, I hope. That stuff doesn’t resemble ice cream in the least.”
“I learned my lesson the last time. I got the real thing. No substitutes.”
“Would you make some coffee? I have a headache and need to find my pills.”
Austin watched as Kristin shuffled bottles and packages back and forth until she found what she was looking for. Battling the childproof cap, the flab of her upper arms wriggled like a sea creature swimming against a strong current.
“I’ve had this headache for days. Can’t kick it.”
“When was the last time you went outside?” Austin asked.
“I went to the post office three days ago. I’m not some hermit locked away from the world, baby.” She gave him a look of scrutiny. “Are you going to make that coffee, or should I?”
Austin mumbled his apology. When the coffee was done and poured into mismatched mugs, they sat on plaid, textured furniture, the fabric scratching the backs of Austin’s legs and arms. He hated the furniture, it made him all too aware of the surroundings he tried so hard to forget.
Kristin sipped loudly, looking over her mug. “You’re looking slim. Why are you so skinny?”
“I’m not. I weigh the same as the last time you saw me.” Austin knew this was true. He weighed himself daily, sometimes twice. He reserved comment over her weight. “Want to run errands together today? I have a few places I need to go?”
Kristin lowered her drink, resting it on her expansive girth—stretched polyester flowers—and shook her head. “Post office and grocery is all I needed, and you took care of that for me.”
Austin changed tactic. “Want to ride along? It’s a gorgeous day. Not too hot yet.”
She shook her head again. “Pass me the remote.” She indicated with her chin.
Retrieving it off the cluttered coffee table, the silver remote was covered in a layer of fine dust. He handed it to her.
A gust of air escaped her parted lips as she took the remote with great effort. “I think there’s a Kardashian marathon today. Don’t know what time it starts.”
“I can’t believe you watch that crap.” He tried to keep the disdain from his voice.
“All that bickering reminds me of what my life used to be like before your father left.”
“Why would you want to be reminded?”
“Passes the time,” Kristin admitted. “Makes me feel less alone.”
“Mom, you don’t have to be alone. You could try harder.”
She clicked on the television. Blue light illuminated the darkness. “I’ve told you, I’m trying as hard as I can.”
“Have you called the doctor? Maybe she can recommend a different antidepressant, or tweak what you’re already taking?”
“Did that last month. I feel the same. Must not be depressed.”
Flip. Flip. Flip.
Austin stared at the ever-changing screen of the TV. Advertisements sped by. He recognized Jerry Springer. Kristin paused but decided to give it a pass.
He swirled the coffee in his mug. “The other day I signed up for classes at the community college. I spoke with a counselor who made some great suggestions about my career path.”
“I thought you already went to school?” Flip “What exactly did I pay for?”
“That was massage school.”
“And now what are you going to do?”
“I’ll still be doing massage, but I plan on becoming a physical therapist.”
“Why?”
He wanted to scream Why not! at the top of his lungs. “I think you passed what you were looking for.”
She looked at him, then at the remote in her hand. A daze clouded her rheumy eyes.
“Mom,” Austin began, sensing something was amiss. “Are you—”
She dropped her chin, and silent tears traveled down her cheeks.
Austin shuffled around the coffee table, hitting his shin in the process. He kneeled in front of his mother. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.” He craned his face up at his mother’s in an effort to get her attention, and to interrupt her sudden outburst of emotion. He wiped the tears along her left cheek and waited.
“Don’t mind me.” It was her feeble attempt at an apology. “You’re right, it’ll be okay. Now go sit down so we can watch the program.”
* * * *
After texting Mitch telling him that he was canceling their date that night, Austin drove home, forgetting about the errands he had intended on running after the visit with his mother. He couldn’t face them, couldn’t face anything at the moment. He knew that he was going to hide away from the world just like she did, but it was only for a night—singular, not plural.
Parking his SUV on the street, Austin went directly to his apartment, praying that he wouldn’t be spotted by Mitch or his roommate. The last thing he felt like doing was explaining why he’d canceled their date. There wasn’t any reason to date. Not really. He was going to be single for the rest of his life. It was easier that way.
Before she was married, Kristin had been slim and exuberant. Today she was anything but. She stuffed her painful memories down her throat in the form of potato chips, donuts, chocolate candy, pieces of fast food fried chicken, shoving everything down and burying it away deep in the bowels of her unforgiving and expanding body.
Didn’t he used to do the same thing?
>
Shutting the vertical blinds and drawing the curtains to the windows that faced the courtyard and Mitch’s apartment, Austin grabbed a bag of organic carrots from the refrigerator’s crisper and headed for the bedroom. It was a Netflix and comforter-up-to-the-chin kind of night. He crunched the noisy vegetable as hard as he could to drown out the self-doubting voices in his head.
And when he heard Mitch knocking on his door and calling out to him, he bit harder, grinding with his molars.
That night, the last thing Austin remembered was his computer freezing and the image of Michael Fassbender, pixilated and shirtless, frozen on the screen.
The next morning, he awoke to the sounds of the garbage truck collecting the dumpster behind the building, loud metallic bangs and echoes jarring him from restless sleep, his right hand buried in the clear plastic bag that once contained carrots. Scanning the floor around his bed, Austin was relieved to see that he had made it through the night without the aid of any of his mother’s preferred comforts.
Leaving the security of his bed to drag himself to the shower, Austin reminded himself that today was a new day and he would try harder.
Chapter Ten
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Mitch was angry, jumping out of his skin angry. Finally standing face-to-face with the man he’d lost an entire night’s sleep over, Mitch wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Austin square in the mouth or kiss him.
At this point, it could go either way.
“Listen,” Austin began, locking his apartment door behind him. “I can’t go into this. I have a client expecting me, and he turns into a complete asshole if I’m late.”
“Too bad for you because I deserve an explanation and I intend to get one out of you even if I have to hang you upside down over this railing.” Mitchell hooked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the second story railing surrounding the outdoor landing.
“If it does come to that, can we do it a few feet over that way? If you drop me, at least the deep end of the pool will break my fall.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I.”
“Why didn’t you take my calls?” Mitch squared his shoulders, expecting some pathetic attempt of an excuse.
“I turned my phone off.”
“So you wouldn’t have to take my calls.”
“You have a big ego.”
“Am I wrong?”
Austin looked away. He readjusted his backpack higher onto his shoulder, shifting his weight. “You’re not wrong.”
“But, I thought you were looking forward to our date.” Now who’s pathetic?
“Something unexpected came up, and I had to deal with it.”
“Okay, I accept that,” Mitch replied.
Austin arched his brow. “Am I excused?”
“No. Not that easily.” Mitch took a tentative step toward Austin. “How about tonight? Are you busy?”
“Look, if you feel like you’re doing a good deed by dating me, consider it done. You’re now a decent guy because you wanted to go out with the high-school fuck-up blubber-ass freak, okay.” Austin started to jog sideways, tripping on his own feet.
Mitch reached out to catch him before he fell to the concrete floor.
In a tight embrace, they froze, facing each other. Austin’s heated breath raced across Mitch’s face. “Thanks,” Austin mumbled, straightening, “but you can let go now.”
“What if I said I didn’t want to?”
“I’d say you’d better.”
“And what if I said I wanted to kiss you?”
Austin blinked.
A few times.
“I’d say you’d better.”
Mitch didn’t wait for Austin to reconsider. He seized the opportunity and smashed his mouth over Austin’s, covering his full, supple lips completely. His brain buzzed with all things Austin, no longer angry for being stood up the night before. He felt Austin’s tongue push into his mouth, deep and probing. Mitch suppressed a moan, so as not to call too much attention, in case Austin’s neighbor Mr. Gibson was standing by the window looking out in hopes of discovering a show just like this one. The recent retiree was in need of a new hobby.
“Can we go inside?” Mitch managed, unable to tear himself away from the frenzied kiss.
Austin dug out the key he had shoved in his jeans front pocket and stabbed blindly at the lock to open the door. It took three attempts before the door opened and they fell into the apartment. Dropping his backpack to the floor, Austin closed the door and turned, lifting both hands palms out.
“Before this goes any further, I don’t want this to get complicated and strange.”
“Who wants that? I know I don’t.” Mitch leaned in, but Austin stopped him by placing his hands firmly on Mitch’s chest. “I promise.” Mitch couldn’t wait any longer. He craved to feel Austin naked under his caress, his handsome face distorted in passion as Mitch made love to him.
“It’s not that.”
“What then?”
“This isn’t a pity fuck, is it?”
“What?” Mitch’s mouth fell open. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“The reason I canceled our date was, I went to visit my mother.”
“And she didn’t approve of who you were going to date?” Mitch wasn’t sure where this was going.
“My dad left her … us, long ago and she was never the same after that.”
Mitch wanted to pull Austin in and hold him and tell him that everything would be all right. “My parents got a divorce too, but I believe that it’s for the best,” Mitch shared. “They seem happy.”
“They never got a divorce.”
“You mean…”
Austin nodded. “Left for work one morning and he never returned.”
“He’s not—”
Mitch was going to say dead, but Austin beat him to it by filling him in. “Mom hired a private detective, which she couldn’t afford, and they did eventually get that divorce, but that happened only last year. He left when I was eight.” Austin paused, swallowed. “He had … has another family. I hated that detective and what he discovered about my father. Mom should have left him out there somewhere. A ghost.”
Mitch was at a loss for words. “I’m really sorry” was the only thing he found appropriate to say.
“I just felt the need to explain, for last night, and for the way I used to be.”
“You don’t have to do that. Never make excuses for who you are.”
“High school was a terrible time for me.”
“It was for many people,” Mitch said.
“Not for you.”
Mitch pointed to the sofa, “Can I sit?”
After giving permission, they sat with their thighs touching, Mitch holding Austin’s hand as Mitch continued to explain. “The person I was then is not the person I am now. When I first got to Palmer Ranch, I was going to conquer the world, or at the very least, the school. I did that. But after my accident—”
“I remember that,” Austin interrupted. “It must’ve been devastating.”
“It was, and it changed everything. At the time, I didn’t think that I could go on.” Mitch stared at a space in the middle distance, remembering. “I’ve never admitted this to anyone before, but I even had thoughts of suicide.”
Austin took in a sharp intake of breath.
“I’m okay now,” Mitch assured, “and I want you to know that I would never do that. I’ve fought long and hard to get out of that dark, scary place.” He redirected his gaze into Austin’s liquid blue eyes. “I won’t lie, there are days where I slip into it again so I understand when you say you want to lock yourself away from the world, hide behind a closed door until you can come out again.”
“That’s what I did last night,” Austin confided. “My mother’s depression brings it all back.”
“I’m going to say this for not only your benefit but for mine too, take the time that you need but don’t hide for too long. Depression is a
scary beast that slowly sets in, and before you know it, you’re having thoughts of suicide.”
“How did you beat it?”
“I have great friends… Josh, Isaac, but only yesterday did I believe I finally kicked its ass.” Mitch smiled. “I had a conversation with my dad, something I should’ve done long ago.”
“Every time I try to have one with mom, I only get so far.” Austin tightened his grip on Mitch’s hand. “It’s like I get stuck and I can’t get it out.” He pointed at his chest. “It’s lodged somewhere in here.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling all too well.” Mitch leaned in and kissed Austin on his cheek. “Promise yourself that next time you see her, you’ll be honest about everything, and I mean everything. You have nothing to lose.” Mitch kissed him again, but this time pressed his lips firmly against Austin’s freshly shaven skin. He felt smooth and warm and masculine.
Austin angled to find Mitch’s eager lips. They kissed through their shared emotional pain, breaking down the barriers that kept them feeling numb. Mitch was anything but, and at that moment, he felt more alive than he could ever remember.
Mitch reached for the hem of Austin’s white T-shirt, the soft cotton cool to his fingertips. In a rush, he stripped Austin of his shirt, exposing his broad chest, which had a minute amount of light, blond fur. Mitch wasted no time kissing his way across the freshly scented skin, intoxicated by Austin’s beauty. Mitch felt like he was floating as if he stepped into a dream that he never wanted to wake from.
“I’ve waited so patiently,” Mitch said. “I was so angry when you canceled. I wanted you so damn much.”
Austin ran his fingers through Mitch’s hair. “I wanted you, too.” Austin released a strangled moan when Mitch lapped at his nipple with the tip of his tongue. “I used to fantasize about you doing”—he swallowed audibly—“this.”
Mitch kissed and bathed every inch of Austin’s muscular chest as the attractive man writhed under his lingual attention. Sliding from the sofa and onto his knees, Mitch greedily tore at the button of Austin’s waistband and forced the zipper down in one fast, effective tug. Mitch wanted to caress what he’d held in the pool the other night, and he wanted to take Austin completely, feeling his swollen cock pushing down the back of his throat until Mitch couldn’t take it anymore. He also wanted to forget all the bullshit of the last few days and lose himself in hours of pleasurable, unadulterated sex.
The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set Page 7
