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“I mean, I was planning on coming over here tomorrow to help you with the outside of the house like we discussed. Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I want you to,” I blurt. “I want your help.”
He grins, showing me those straight white teeth, and then chows down, finishing off a few more tacos. I’m a bit slower, my stomach not as big or used to eating so much. So while he finishes off an easy six, I’m still working on my second one. And when we’re done, our bellies full, he helps me clean up and then leads me to the couch.
“Thought I’d stay and watch a movie or something, if that’s alright with you,” he says, and I nod.
“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that.”
He grins, and then I flip on the TV, settling in next to him, letting him wrap his arm around my shoulders and pull me into his side. I nestle in, like some kind of critter burrowing underground, until I’m snuggled up against him, my legs draped over his, my head resting on his chest. And he just holds me like this until my eyes drift shut, and I fall fast asleep.
“Look who it is,” Delilah says as I walk back toward the coffee stand in the feed store. My shift is almost over, and I’ve managed to avoid her for the most part, but now I’m stocking shelves near her and it can’t be helped. “Here, coffee is on me.”
“Thanks,” I say, knowing that refusing won’t do a damn thing. She’s so much like her son it’s ridiculous. Or maybe it’s theother way around. Maybe he’s just like her. You can’t say no to either of them.
“Jimbob said he’s been helping you at your place, spent all day yesterday mowing the lawn and trimming bushes. He’s real good with that kind of stuff.”
I blush and nod, feeling like Jimbob told a secret I didn’t want him to share. But then again, it’s innocent. He probably didn’t tell her how gross my house was when he first walked into it, or how unkempt that yard had been. He probably just made a simple statement and Delilah ran with it.
It’s as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less.
I have to stop making negative assumptions about people.
“Yeah, he is. He’s real handy.”
“He is. That’s my boy. And guess what? He has a little surprise for you when you get home. You’re just gonna love it.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about and dread it the entire way back to my place. My mind races with thoughts as to what this could be, what he has planned. I woke up the night we cleaned to find myself tucked in under a blanket on the couch, all alone. And then Jimbob had shown up bright and early the next day, looking chipper and happy, despite probably only having slept a few hours. He worked his ass off though, mowing the lawn and trimming our hedges and pruning the trees. By the end of the day, he must have been sore, but he didn’t complain. He just took the chopped-up foliage to the dump and returned with dinner while I finished off organizing the kitchen.
The house looked real damn good too, like someone else was living in it. Not me and my mom. And I honestly didn’t know how to thank him, so I just kissed him like crazy after dinner and then dropped to my knees and sucked his dick in the shower. He came with my name on his lips and then spun me around gently and jacked me off until my release was dripping from the walls.
And then he took me back to his place, removed all my clothes, and tucked me into his bed.
I’ve never been cared for like this, never thought I would have this, not in a million years, and I don’t know what to do about it.
It’s like living on an alien planet. I’m walking around with a muddled head and a franticly beating heart. I’m hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Just like with my mom.
So when I finish my shift and drive back to my place, I can’t fucking breathe. But it’s all for nothing, the panic, the worry. Because there’s Jimbob outside, his hands covered in dirt, putting flowers in some window boxes outside our place.
He made me goddamn window boxes and put flowers in them. Beautiful, vibrant flowers that brighten the house.
The sight, the thought behind it makes tears slip out of my eyes, and I swipe them away quickly. I don’t want him to see this and think I’m upset. I’m not. I’m fucking not, but at the same time, I’m scared. Scared he’s going to be taken away from me, that the last shoe will drop, and I’ll be left broken.
“Hey there,” he says with a bright smile as I approach.
My heart nearly thunders out of my chest, my ears ringing as I near.
“Didn’t know you’d be home so soon. Wanted this to be done before you arrived. What do you think?”
He sweeps his hand across the work he did, looking mighty proud, and I feel the lump in my throat grow.
“It’s beautiful. Did you make these?”
He nods. “Sure did. Not my best work, but it’ll do.”
“No, James, they’re perfect.”
The use of his name makes his lips part in surprise. “I sure like when you call me that.”
