And now that I’ve been cleared to go back to work, I exhaled after I took a deep breath of Jimmy’s scent, laying my head in the crook of his neck. He’s rubbing my back, swaying us slightly in a calming motion. After a moment, he nudged my ear with his chin, “Want to go lay down for a while? I could get off my feet.” I nodded in agreement, rubbing the side of my face against the top of his shoulder.
We broke apart but he clasped my hand to guide me up the stairs to his room. I grabbed the bag of books at the last minute with an extended arm, bringing them with us.
We fell asleep in each other’s arms instead of in our normal cradle. Jimmy was still wedged up with a pillow at an angle making it easy to lay my head comfortably on his puffed chest. We didn’t undress before crawling into bed together, so I was a little uncomfortable in my outfit. As I was trying to stretch out my pant leg that had ridden up in the groin, it woke Jimmy, who took a deep unexpected breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” peeking up from my position, not wanting to move from it. I rubbed my face against his chest, feeling the indent where the two muscles meet in the middle.
“It’s okay, Honey. It’s probably best to get up,” as he tried to look at the time from the angle he was laying.
“It’s five-fifteen. Almost dinner time,” planting my face flat on to him, muffling my response.
We got up, and I headed down the stairs while Jimmy went into the bathroom. As I was just walking into the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. I stood frozen in place. The knock wasn’t David’s like Jimmy had explained. I gulped and hesitantly cracked the door open only to see my dad standing there, so I swung it wide insurprise, “Dad, hi.”
“Hello, Son,” he greeted in response but shifted on his feet, not making direct eye contact. He was clean and in normal attire, hair damp. “I came to just check on you and to give an update on the incident,” he said quietly, before adding timidly, “Um, did you get the groceries I left?”
Caught off guard by this visit, I stammered out, “David came by yesterday with the news and Tom told me to come back to work on Monday.” Remorsefully, I added, “And yes. I’m sorry. I was going to come to see you later,” the guilt building within me. I have been a horrible son. I should have made it known immediately the appreciation I felt by what he did. “I’m sorry. I should have come to you that day to thank you,” lowering my head, ashamed.
Of course, Jimmy walked toward the kitchen with his perfect timing saying, “Honey, what about the chicken–,” then stopped in his tracks when he saw my dad at the door. “Mike, hello.” Jimmy looked at me with wide eyes, like he was a child caught red handed doing something naughty.
“Hi,Jim,” Dad said, clipping his name with a finalization that had an edge. “I’m sorry to drop by unannounced, but I wanted to check on Charlie and in extension,you.” The ‘you’ came out the same as his name.
“Dad,” shooting him a beady look, making him look to the side toward the street and exhale. “I am okay. I promise.”
“Mike?” Jimmy had gotten closer to me, standing center in the door, “Would you like to come in and stay for dinner? We have plenty of food thanks to you. I am so appreciative of your kindness and rounded the town up to help.” He looked at me, I think in hope that I would approve of the idea, like I had a say on who he invited into his own home.
But his eyes were also telling me to agree. “Dad, please come in. I made iced tea and we can talk if you’d like while I make dinner,” stepping more to the side so he may come in, Jimmy stepping behind me too. “Apparently we are having chicken,” I added with some sarcasm to try to lighten the mood.
Dad just stared at the road, like he was seeing something in the air the both of us couldn’t see. After a moment of clarity, like he received a message from nothing, he turned toward us and nodded, “Okay.”
He walked in, passing us and while I closed the door, Jimmy welcomed him in by getting some iced tea poured into three glasses. “I see you are getting around,” Dad stated, as he watched Jimmy move around his kitchen.
Jimmy just nodded and responded with the normal rules set for him about bending and twisting, but he was in a little discomfort at the moment, saying, “I was on my feet most of the day today for the first time, so my back is flaring a bit.”
“Jimmy, why didn’t you say anything? I’ll go get you an aspirin. I’ll be right back,” rolling my eyes at him as I passed. Why do men always seem like they need to tough it out? As I left, I heard my dad in the distance say, “So, he’s taking good care of you?” with Jimmy responding with, “The best,” before I got too far.
When I got back with the medication and also a pillow for his back, the room was silent and the chicken was out on the counter, ready to be prepped. Ignoring the awkwardness in the air, I took charge. Jimmy was already feeling it in his back. “Go sit. Git,” shooing him away, giving him the pill and his pillow as he passed.
I started by finding a small light green, almost yellow milk glass baking dish. It should be bigger, but this will do. I prepped and cut up the chicken intoreasonable pieces, throwing them in the dish. While I washed my hands and the counter Jimmy asked, “What are you making?”
I turned to see him sitting in a chair at the table leaning against the pillow I brought down for him. Warmly, and while looking at dad I said, “Momma’s Kitchen Sink Chicken and Mushroom.” Dad rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin in reaction, staying quiet. His eyes slant with sadness. I know it was still hard for him to think or talk about her.
It broke him losing her. My dad had still been a quiet man, but he was less grumpy, had more of a pep in his step, and occasionally smiled. Especially in her direction. I think what made it worse was the warning, seeing it coming, and watching the love of his life that he had been with since freshman year in high school deteriorate. She was my mother and it was bad for me too, but I can’t imagine watching your one and only going through that, knowing what the outcome was before it happened.
I turned back to my dinner prep and tossed in the left-over carrots from last night’s dinner, added some canned peas since they were readily available, and pulled out the bread and ripped pieces off, rolling them into small lumps, adding them throughout. I topped it off with a can of Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup and a little water, then seasoned with parsley, salt, pepper and paprika.
As I placed the dish in the oven, I realized I had been working in silence for too long. I turned to see the two most important men in my life staring each other down. “Oh my God! Would you two stop already,” making them break and look at me.
I needed this out. I can’t stand it anymore.
“Dad, I know you have something to say. And I know you are not good with saying what’s on yourmind, but I need it out with it before dinner is done so we can enjoy this meal together.” I put my hand on my hips, as a statement that I was serious.
Dad looked down, I didn’t know if out of shame or his quiet awkward grumpiness. When he looked up, his eyes were serious but not threatening. He looked from me to Jimmy and back to me again. “He called you Honey. Before.” He swallowed like he was trying to eat the next words that were going to be said so he didn’t have to say them. Because if he didn’t say them, the answer wouldn’t come.
But I knew the words, so I looked to Jimmy for a confirmation that we haven’t even really talked about yet and permission to say it out loud. When he gave me a little smile that was a little pointed with fear, but his caramel eyes were full of affection that could have put me in a trance any other time, so I turned back to my dad and confirmed, “Yes.”
I walked over to stand next to Jimmy and placed my hand on the back of his neck, rubbing my thumb over his heated skin, causing him to lean in my direction in comfort. Dad looked at us, his eyes seeing something he had never seen before. The look was unreadable. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and I didn’t know what more to say.
But Jimmy jumped in with caution in his tone, like he was talking down a scared dog. “Mike, knowing about your son and how he likes men, and accepting it, shouldn’t be any different than actually seeing it. I went through this myself,” he paused to take a breather, making me look down at him in surprise, about to hear this new information from the man I care deeply about. “I don’t have family or close childhood friends in my life. I was in Charlie’s position, they knew. But once theyKNEW, when they met someone I had been seeing, everything changedfor them.” He paused again, but finished in a hushed breath, “and me.”
