Chapter 7 Johnny
JOHNNY
I hang up the phone when my dream guy starts cussing me out.
Pushing the button on the panel for “Do Not Disturb,” I curl back up on my futon to cry some more.
Right now, my office is the only safe place to let go.
My thumb rests against my bottom lip, and I have to fight the urge to let it slip into my mouth.
Oral fixation or not, grown ass men don’t suck their thumbs.
But is it so wrong to not want to be a grown up sometimes?
It seems like all being an adult means anymore is a bunch of don’t do this or don’t do that.
Why is it inappropriate for me to watch Paw Patrol long after my niblings grew out of it?
And Bluey is one hell of a show. No one can tell me otherwise.
The world may want me to be a manly man with manly hobbies, but I like building things.
Legos and Duplos might have laid the foundation, but the creating and fitting of pieces together to make something more awesome or efficient has always been the core of my fascination.
I used to create elaborate scenes and vehicles from jamming together pieces of the blocks my parents didn’t manage to throw out when I became a teenager.
When I discovered what being a mechanic entailed, I was fascinated. I could build a car from pieces, just like with Legos... Only now, it feels hollow working on the cars. I spend more of my time on spreadsheets and invoices than I do on the actual vehicles that come in.
Throwing the blanket over my head, I give in to the urge to suck my thumb.
It will be only for a minute. Then, I can get cleaned up and head back down to box up all of the stuff from inside the Aveo.
That adorable car has some interesting things in plain sight, and I’m kind of curious about what might be hidden away in there.
A loud crash from below has me bolting up and out of my office without thinking. I’m at the top of the steps when the raised voices register in my brain. I freeze when the actual words hit me.
“You know it’s a problem, Steve-o. Goose ain’t never been like the rest of us and your Pops was just too much of a softie to do anything about it.”
I’m not surprised that Paul is starting shit again.
I had asked Steve if we should think about cutting him loose because he was the most vocal against the changes I suggested when Mike retired.
The man has more sexual harassment complaints against him than tools in the shop.
But Steve said that he wouldn’t make any personnel changes until after the holidays – when the clauses for the transfer of ownership take full effect.
He said he doesn’t want there to be any legal loopholes that we miss by rushing things.
If it wasn’t for the grumble of assent I hear coming from the general area of the shop, I wouldn’t worry about the douche running his mouth again. But from what I’m hearing, I don’t have as many allies in the shop as I thought I did.
“That’s enough!” Steve yells and slams something hard enough that I hear a cracking noise echoing in the resultant silence. “Pops made John an owner – just like me. You don’t have to like it. You just have to respect it. If you got an issue with that, there’s the door.”
From my spot at the top of the stairs, I watch as Steve storms out of the bay door toward our designated smoking area. He’s been trying to quit for the baby’s sake, but I get it. If the choice is lighting up a smoke or punching through Paul’s face...
Not gonna lie. I’m pretty sure I would rather he lay into Paul.
“Lay off, Paul,” Ricky’s voice floats up as I start to descend the stairs.
“You know you can’t catch the gay off Goose or nothin.
He’s a damn better boss when it comes to treating us right compared to Pops.
When was the last time Pops worked a double on a holiday so that we could spend it with our families? ”
My eyes start itching and I hurriedly wipe at them before continuing down the stairs, but Paul opens his mouth again to destroy any hope I have in holding onto my chosen family.
“Pops had his own family to spend the day with. Who’s gonna want to spend time with a fairy boy that plays with toys my eight year old has abandoned? I mean, I wouldn’t trust him around my kids that’s for damn sure.”
I don’t even remember deciding to leave.
I run down the stairs and jump in my personal truck, ignoring the yells chasing after me.
The next thing I know, I’m at my house with a sledgehammer in my grip, tearing through the wall in what I planned to make the master bedroom.
I want a door. I want a secret room – a special place where I can be me, be Johnny instead of John or Goose or Mr. Gander or J.
I don’t want to have to worry about having people over and them thinking I’m trying to groom their children or something.
A secret room means that I can be safe liking what I like.
My phone lights up with another message from Steve, but I ignore it.
Swinging the hammer with everything I have, I let go of everything inside.
My scream of frustration would probably bother the neighbors, if I had any beyond the few duplexes on the other side of the woods.
But people would be at work or school right now, so it’s safe to vent – at least for now.
Hours later, I only stop because the sky is getting darker.
I screamed until I was hoarse and still kept swinging.
That wall was not the only casualty of my pain today.
I’ve also decided that I hate the idea of the tub and shower combination and want separate pieces for each.
Smashing the tub and tile enclosure was quite satisfying.
It’s a really good thing that I had all the water shut off because I’m sure I’ve knocked at least a couple of pipes loose.
When I get into the cab of my truck, I finally look at my messages. Twelve are from Steve.
J come back
Don't let that dick get to u
Where'd u go
J I'm worried
Talk to me man
They all are the same thing. But I had a lot of time to think about it. Steve didn’t stand up for me to Paul. Not really. Am I really like a brother to him or was that just all talk? Was I wrong about him? What about the other guys in the shop?
I’m starting to spiral again, so I toss the phone onto the passenger seat and start up my truck.
I don’t want to deal with him right now, but if he’s still at the shop it will be easier to just talk in person.
I haven’t found a place yet, so I’ve got to at least get a change of clothes and things to stay in a motel for a while.
Another text dings through on my phone as I pull up to the stop sign at the entrance to the subdivision where the duplexes are located.
There’s no one behind me, so I pick up my phone to check it out.
Instead of my business partner, I see a text from my sister that completely shatters any hope I might have had of a decent holiday with my family.
Erica:
Mom and Dad won Santa’s cruise from the Chinese raffle at church
Me:
and that has what to do with me?
Erica:
i need u to watch the dogs
Me:
Mom’s allergic to dogs
Erica:
did u drink the crick water or something? i need u to watch our dogs while we’re gone
That’s when it hits me. I pull onto the shoulder of the road just in case someone comes up to the intersection while I process this.
My parents won a cruise and are taking my sister’s family with them.
I mean, the kids will love it, so I’m not really all that mad about that part of it.
But my sister only has one dog. Twice now, she’s mentioned plural.
Had they picked up a second dog, either Jess or Jamie would have blown up my phone with pics.
Me:
who all is going on this cruise?
Erica:
obv Mom & Dad
me, Jared, the girls
Shelly, Rose, Pete, and their kids
So, it’s not that there weren’t enough tickets, just that my family doesn’t want me around.
Got it. That sounds about right. Despite the fact that watching the kids’ faces light up on Christmas morning is the highlight of my fucking year, I’m glad they will at least have this experience to look back on.
I just hate that no one even thought to ask me.
Me:
I’ll watch Peanut but your husband’s brother and his baby mamas can handle their own pet care
My phone rings immediately, but I throw it back onto the seat.
I look up at the lego creations I have secured along the top of my windshield and don’t even attempt to hold back the tears.
I’m not sure how long I sit here, but headlights illuminate the cab of my truck when a car makes the turn in front of me to enter the subdivision.
I roughly swipe at my face with my sleeve before I flip on my lights and head back to the shop.
Since there’s no light left to continue at my house, I can at least start some demolition and stripping on the Aveo before finding a motel to crash for the night.