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I pulled on Jeremiah’s shirt, tugging him toward the door. “Another time, Dad, but thanks. I’ll see yas all again bright and early tomorrow.”
If they noticed my mood—and I’m sure they did—they never said anything. I wouldn’t have known what to tell them anyway. I just needed to leave.
“I’ll follow you,” Jeremiah said, going straight to the Jeep.
I tried to get myself together on the short drive home, but this feeling, this uneasy, frustrated feeling wasn’t going away.
I pulled into my garage and went inside, seeing the storm clouds rolling in again across the horizon. It was almost five o’clock, and I was ready for this whole day to be over. The box squawked, so I opened it up and took out the bird. He squawked some more and I fed him the small balls of minced meat my mother had made.
At least he made me smile.
Jeremiah came in, put his keys and stuff on the kitchen bench, and gave the bird a gentle stroke. “He’s a little fighter.”
“We’ll need to get him a proper cage,” I said quietly.
Jeremiah looked at the top of my head and straightened out an errant strand of hair. He smiled as he thumbed my jaw. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
I frowned. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I just feel...” I shrugged my shoulders and tried to shake off the funk I was in. “I don’t know how I feel. Like I need you to hug me. And it’s weird, because I’ve never needed that before. I feel... deconstructed. I dunno. And then you mentioned that you might be leaving. Why did you say that? Jesus, Jeremiah, I just found you!”
He took the bird and put it back in the box, then pulled me against him. He wrapped his arms around me, pushed me against the cabinet, and held me so damn tight.
God, he felt so good it made me want to cry.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I mumbled.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he whispered. “Nothing at all.”
I fisted his shirt at the back, and with my face in his neck, I breathed him in, like I could somehow absorb his strength that way. God, this was ridiculous.
“Wanna lie down on the couch?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
I felt like a child. God, I was acting like one.
But then he pulled me onto the couch with him and I lay there, half on top of him, with his arms around me and my head tucked under his chin. He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head every so often.
“Feel better?”
I nodded again. “I just... I just needed this. Exactly this. With you. I need to know you’re okay, that we’re okay. That everything will be okay.”
He lifted my face and brought me in for a kiss. “Everything will be okay. You and me, we’ll be okay.”
“You’re not leaving?”
He smiled and shook his head, his eyes soft. “They’ll have to drag me out.”
I chuckled and he kissed my cheek, my nose, my forehead, and tucked me back in under his chin.
Then we heard keys in the front door. I’d forgotten about Ellis. “You better not be naked,” he called out.
“Eat a bag of dicks,” I replied.
Jeremiah tried to sit up, but I held him right where he was. “Mm-mm. Don’t move.”
Ellis came in and all but fell into the single seater next to us. He looked exhausted, and he didn’t give one fuck that Jeremiah and I were tangled on the couch together. “What is it with the ‘eat a bag of dicks’ line as an insult?” Ellis said with a frown. “I mean, sure, tell me to eat a bag of dicks and I’d be like, ‘yeah, no thanks, not my style.’ But if I told you to eat a bag of dicks, you’d be like, ‘hell yes, go turkey-mode, and gobble-gobble.’”
I threw a cushion at his fucking head.
