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“You’re letting him stay at the house overnight.”
Not a question.
“Yes. One night. I get one more night with my dog before I lose him again tomorrow. I know the timing sucks for us as a couple, but I’d love for you to come over and at least be here while Dad and I eat.”
“I don’t belong there tonight, Michael. Enjoy your night with Rosco. He’s a beautiful dog. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
Michael wanted to argue and demand Josiah come back to the house, but Josiah had a stubborn streak that only got wider when challenged. He wasn’t coming inside tonight, no matter what Michael said, and that hurt. It hurt, but he also understood Josiah keeping his distance. He had to be so confused about everything tonight and likely doubting his place in Michael’s life. Michael had no doubt about Josiah’s place and importance, and he vowed to show that to Josiah.
“Okay,” Michael said. “See you in the morning for breakfast.”
“See you then. ’Night.”
“Good night, Josiah.”
Deflated by the conversation, Michael sliced a tomato and pulled a few leaves of lettuce off the head of iceberg. Got four slices of bread ready to toast when the bacon was closer to finished. Once the bacon was draining on a paper towel, he went to get Dad.
“Heard someone drive off,” Dad said. “Who left?”
“Kenny went to the diner for supper. I made BLTs for you and me.”
“What about Josiah?”
“He wants to stay in the trailer tonight. Couldn’t talk him out of it.”
“But you’re not taking Kenny back.”
“Hell no.” Michael pushed Dad into the kitchen so they could eat at the table for a change. Rosco stuck close the whole time, practically attached to Michael’s hip. Once Dad was settled with a drink, Michael assembled his sandwich, added some pretzels, and served him. Toasted his own bread and made his dinner. He sneaked a tiny piece of bacon to Rosco.
The sandwich helped fill the weird pit in his stomach, and Michael contemplated making a second.
“So if your dog is here, I assume Kenny’s coming back?” Dad asked.
“Yes.” Michael snapped a pretzel in half. “I told him he could sleep in your room upstairs for one night. That’s it.” He summarized his conversation with Kenny.
“Figures he crawled back to you. Men like that are parasites. Take what they want regardless of how it hurts the other person. You were right to put your foot down and set him straight.”
“Thanks. I just hate that I hurt Josiah’s feelings without meaning to. But I don’t want to go knock on his door and force myself on him when he clearly wants some distance.” And it sucked even more after the amazing twenty-four hours they’d had together leading up to now. “I’ll make it up to him somehow.”
“I know you will. He’s a good boy.”
“He’s amazing. He’s everything Kenny wasn’t and still isn’t. And even if I hadn’t met and fallen for Josiah, I still wouldn’t have taken Kenny back. To borrow a tired cliché, he made his bed, and that bed can fucking eat him like Johnny Depp inA Nightmare on Elm Street.”
Dad laughed. “Good to hear it. Figured as much, but I like hearing you say it, son. Granted, I didn’t hear about all the crap that Kenny pulled on you until after the fact, but you are a good man. Dunno how much of that is my doing, your mom’s doing, or your own doing, but I’m proud of you. Really proud.”
Something burned behind Michael’s eyes. “Thank you, Dad.”
“You earned it. My only real regret is I didn’t get to tell you sooner.”
Michael opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of a car engine starting snared his attention. He looked toward the living room, as if he could see right through the wall and into the yard. No way Kenny was back. It hadn’t been long enough and the car engine sound was moving away. Rosco loped toward the front door with a soft yip but didn’t go crazy barking like he might have if someone was walking onto the porch.
Josiah.
He stood so fast his chair nearly went over backward. Michael ran to the front door and yanked it open. Taillights on the road disappeared fast, and an empty space stood where Josiah’s car had been parked.
“What the hell?” He barely felt the cold air dancing around his ankles or the way Rosco’s big head nudged at his thigh. Josiah had just driven away at suppertime on a Sunday night, the same night Michael’s ex showed up begging for money. Josiah didn’t know about the money part, though—he couldn’t. And running away wasn’t Josiah’s style.
Michael yanked his cell out of his pocket and typed off a fast text:
