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He didn’t usually work after a full day of classes, but since he needed Friday off to play the gig with the band in La Jolla, he’d had to trade hours to make it work. It was slow too, which was the worst. Hours to think. Hours to miss Renzo.
The early part of the week, he’d had a test at school to get through and that had helped a little, but today, in the boredom of the shift, the loss was hitting him hard as he kept replaying their final conversation, wondering if there was anything he could have done differently.
“Hey. Look sharp,” Sage called from where she was wiping down some tables. She hurried back over to the front. “Customers.”
Sure enough the doors opened to reveal some familiar faces. Curly and Bacon. No Renzo even though Canaan almost sprained something trying to see behind them. Oh well. Wasn’t like he wanted an awkward encounter...
Liar.
Okay, he did. He totally did. He wanted any encounter, awkward or not. There hadn’t been any texts since Renzo had left his place, and Canaan sure as hell wasn’t going to be first to text.
Curly was first, getting his usual, and kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something more, but then sighed and headed down the bar to wait for Sage to make his drink. Bacon took his time reading the specials board.
“I’ll take the special—the peach thing—and a High Octane.”
“Two drinks?” This was a first for Bacon, and he had a sinking feeling why that was.
“Yeah.” Bacon rubbed the back of his neck. “Need one for...a buddy.”
“It’s okay. You can say his name.” Canaan got the two cups ready and took Bacon’s debit card.
“Probably won’t help, but I can tell you he’s miserable. Worst I’ve ever seen him.”
“He told you we broke up?”
“He mumbled something about it while kicking my ass at Call of Duty, yeah. That and he’s spacey as fuck right now. I’m legit worried about him at his training.”
“Now I am too. I don’t want him miserable. Or accidentally hurting himself training. But I’m not sure what else to do.” Canaan could be a dick, keep messaging and texting and being a pest trying to get Renzo to talk to him, but if Renzo was determined to end things with a clean break, Canaan wasn’t sure there was a damn thing he could do. Or should do.
“Wish I had good advice, but relationship stuff is hard. It just is.” Bacon shrugged as he took the drinks. “Should I tell him...anything?”
Canaan thought for a long moment. There was absolutely nothing that Bacon-as-messenger could fix. “I added hazelnut to his because he likes that combo a lot.”
“I meant...”
“I know. And I’m good.” Canaan gave him a firm nod, trying to convince himself as much as Bacon.
But as he headed home, he still wasn’t remotely convinced he was anything other than sad. Not mad. Not hurt even. Sad. Why the fuck did the country have to be so big? And Renzo’s brain so narrow? Bacon had it right—relationships were damn hard. And a month or two ago, he’d been so certain that he didn’t want one, been sure that he needed his shit together first, believed he wasn’t ready. But now here he was, and he wanted it all, hard or not. His vision for his future had shifted in an irrevocable way, but hell if he knew how to convince Renzo to share that dream.
He wanted to head right to his apartment, but habit said he should check on Grandpa first. And Grandpa had been holding some dinner for him, so he felt obligated to try to eat even though it was late and he hadn’t had an appetite for days. Grandpa heated up the sausage and potatoes for him in the microwave while Canaan made them both some herbal tea. Tea might help his stomach, and it gave him something to do with his hands.
“I think this dish turned out good,” Grandpa said. “I remembered to blanch the potatoes first like Grandma always did. It dirtied an extra pot—”
“I’ll do dishes before I turn in,” Canaan volunteered because it was something else to keep him busy.
“Don’t you need to practice for the show tomorrow too?” Grandpa’s forehead creased.
“Yes, but I’m not tired.” In reality he was exhausted, but he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping.
“Do you want me to come out? Support you?” Grandpa had been to more than a few Kirby’s Revenge shows when they’d been first starting out, something Canaan would always love him for.
“Nah. It’s not that big of a deal. Just the one show, and if I suck, I don’t need witnesses.”
“Okay. I know it’s been a rough week.” Grandpa set the plate in front of him.
“Is this where you finally say ‘I told you so’?”
“Nope. You’re acting like I’m happy about this turn of events.” Taking the chair opposite, Grandpa settled in with his tea. “And I’m not. I like the young man, very much. I thought he was good for you in many ways. But military relationships are hard. That’s the reality. And if he’s choosing—”
