8. Jamieson
eight
Jamieson
“ A re you sure you’re okay to do this road trip still? I won’t be mad if you’d rather be home.”
“It’s a broken arm, Jamie. I’ll be fine.”
Nothing about Griff’s voice leads me to believe he’s lying. It is just a broken bone, and it could have been so much worse. I try not to think about that, but it creeps in when I imagine my best friend being hurt worse than a broken bone.
He offers me half the sandwich we picked up from the hospital vending machine on our way out this morning. I slept off and on in the waiting room chairs while they set his arm and cast it. There was no way I’d leave him there and ask him to call when done.
I stretch my neck, trying to work the kink out while I drive and eat.
“I told you those chairs weren’t made for sleeping. You should have gone to the hotel and let me call you.”
“I wasn’t letting you call me. It’s my fault you’re…broken.”
Just like the last time when he needed all those stitches. He did it for me then too, and I’ll never forget it. I probably think about it too much sometimes.
“It’s my job, Jamie. You know that. ”
Griff stares out the window as I drive us closer to the Ontario border. Our sort of vacation now changed from a fun time with my best friend to…something else I don’t have a word for.
We crossed into Saskatchewan easily enough, but with only me driving while Griff slept off the anesthetic, I had a lot of time to think. That’s not always a good thing.
“I know it’s your job, but I feel responsible.”
Griff shoves the empty sandwich container in a bag and leans back in his seat.
“I’m an adult and make my own choices, Jamie. I’d do the same in any situation out there, not just for you.”
“Ouch. Way to make me feel special.”
I’m joking, but Griff doesn’t laugh.
“We planned to stop in Winnipeg tonight. Are you still okay with doing that?”
“Yeah. You need to rest some too, or you won’t be able to enjoy this dude-bonding trip you planned.”
Griff’s playful grin returns, and I internally leap with joy.
“You’ll be driving on the way back. You can take Saskatchewan blindfolded, with both arms broken, and still be fine.”
Our old banter returns, and it eases the ache in my chest some.
When we arrive at our motel, it’s not the greatest, but I’m just happy to take a hot shower and sleep in a bed, no matter how uncomfortable.
“Do you need my help with anything? If you want to shower, I can ask the front desk for a garbage bag and duct tape.”
Griff laughs as he lies on his bed and closes his eyes. “That shouldn’t sound so dirty, but yeah…I’d appreciate it if you could.”
“Let me grab our bags, and I’ll do that real quick. ”
Griff gives me a thumbs up, and for some reason, that gesture makes me smile. After dumping our bags and grabbing a room key, I walk back to the main office and ring the bell.
The older man who helped us before appears again with a smile.
“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”
“I’m hoping you can help. My buddy broke his arm yesterday, and we’re not prepared for tonight. Would you have some duct tape and some plastic we could borrow?” The man’s bushy eyebrows pop up, and my cheeks burn as I replay how that sounds. “To cover his cast so he can shower.”
The man snorts and holds a finger up. “I think I can help. Give me a minute or two.”
When the man leaves, I thumb through my messages on my phone.
Jackson asked if Griff was okay and congratulated me on my high score. Funny, I haven’t given myself much time to think about the score until now. My biggest concern was making sure Griff was okay.
After answering Jackson, I reply to Carson, the other bullfighter, and ask him to spread the word that Griff broke his arm but is otherwise okay. When Carson asks if Griff will work the coming events, I pause. That’s probably not a question I should answer, but if I know my best friend, he’s working if he can function.
“Here you go. This should help.”
Shoving my phone in my pocket, the man from the motel hands me a baggie with rolls of clear tape and several small garbage bags.
“Oh, thank you so much. I probably don’t need this many.”
“You’ll need it for a while. The tape is surgical and waterproof. I had some leftover from when I had my foot cast last year. Just keep it and take it on your way. Your friend will appreciate that better than duct tape.”
When he says the word friend, he makes it sound like something else. Something intimate.
“Um, yeah, he probably will. He has fine hair on his arms. You can’t always see it, but it’s there. It’s super blond.”
I don’t know where waxing on about Griff’s arm hair came from, but the man smiles.
“There is a lot we don’t always see at first. Little things often sneak up, and then you wonder how there was a time that you never noticed before.”
This feels like a bizarre conversation to have in a motel lobby with a stranger while my arms clutch medical tape and plastic bags to my chest.
Clearing my throat, I nod and hold up the bag of supplies.
“His arm hair thanks you.”
Jesus Christ, Jamieson.
The man wishes me a good night, and I exit the lobby back down to our room. When I open the door, Griff sits, head hanging, with his cast forearm against his stomach.
“Griff?” After the door clicks closed, I flip the inside deadbolt and security chain. “Good news. Waterproof medical tape so it won’t rip the hair off your arms.”
“What magic did you work for that?” he jokes, but when he lifts his head, there’s more than just the tiredness from the last twenty-four hours. A sadness I’ve only seen a handful of times when he spoke of his parents creeps at the edge of his normally smiling eyes.
“My normal charming self, I suppose.”
“Probably.” He rolls his eyes, and we both laugh.
“Here. I’ll help you.”
He yanks his arm further into himself. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can, but I want to help you.” Griff’s chest heaves as my hand takes his cast arm away gently. “You don’t always have to do everything yourself, Griff. Let me help you this time.”
Griff relaxes and allows me to place the bag over his arm. He watches as I wrap the tape and press it all together around his arm.
“I’ll turn the water on for you. You go first. If you need me to help, just yell for me.”
“Kay.”
When I emerge from the bathroom, Griff is struggling with removing his pants with only one hand, so without asking, I grab the other side of his pants and help him out of them.
“Sit.”
He does as I ask, and I take off his socks. The scar from the first time he put himself between me and a bull has faded on his calf, but it’s there. A reminder of what Griff has done for me all these years.
“The water should be good now.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
In just his briefs, he walks to the bathroom, and the door clicks behind him. For several minutes, I don’t hear him in the shower or even a toilet flush.
“Do you need me —”
“For god’s sake Jamie, I don’t need you to wipe my ass! I’m fine! ”
“Sorry!”
Finally, I hear him moving and the sounds of him in the shower after a toilet flushes, and I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling with the voice of the motel clerk in my head.
There is a lot we don’t always see at first.
I think I just noticed something about my best friend for the first time in almost ten years of friendship.
And I don’t know what to do with that.
“I thought you said we still had a way to go? Why are we stopping already?”
Griff raises an eyebrow, and I smile back.
“It’s like you don’t even know me. You think I’d take a road trip like this and not research all the food places I need to visit?”
“You just ate a pound of pierogies before we left Manitoba!”
I probably could have eaten more, to be honest. I’ve never tasted pierogies that fucking amazing.
“True. But that was hours ago, and there’s a place that’s supposed to have the most amazing blueberry ice cream in Dryden. We need a rest stop, anyway.”
“You use any excuse to get snacks.” Griff shakes his head, but he’s already reaching for the small pack he has his wallet and phone in with sunscreen and whatever else I didn’t see. When he showed me how much he loved this fanny-pack thing, because that’s what it is, I couldn’t tell him it’s what retired men wear or that he was a blast from the 80s. He was so damn thrilled it would make hiking easier. It was like he discovered the moon.
“Well…yeah. Snacks are life.”
I turn the vehicle into the parking lot of a truck stop and restaurant off the highway and stop at the gas pumps. While I fill the truck, Griff empties the garbage inside before joining me with a stretch.
“It’s a perfect day. Too bad we’re spending it driving.”
“You’re doing okay then? Arm isn’t too sore?”
Griff shakes his head. “A little off and on, but nothing I need a painkiller for or anything. It’s just getting used to moving with my arm.”
After replacing the gas nozzle, we walk into the truck stop together. It smells like home-baked goodness and…blueberries.
“Oh god, do you smell that, Griff?” But he’s already pointing to a giant shelf of fresh-baked goodies and baskets of blueberries.
“Look at this, Jamie. It’s everything you love. Maybe we should get some to eat for breakfast while we’re at the ranch.”
Blueberry muffins, pies, tarts and jams line the shelves in various sizes and my mouth waters.
“I don’t trust myself not to spend every dime I have here right now.” I push Griff closer and cover my eyes. “Pick some stuff for us while I take a piss.”
Griff’s laughter rings out. “Go on then. I’ll save your bank account. ”
Trusting Griff to feed me, I follow the signs to the washroom and take care of business. On my way out, I pause at a community bulletin board when a rainbow-coloured flyer catches my eye.
“No way.”
Snapping a photo, I hustle out to find Griff holding two bags of goods waiting by the door.
“I didn’t buy you ice cream, but the guy says the best place is a little shack as we drive out of town on the left. It’s called The Cream Queen.”
“It is not.” I laugh.
Griff snorts as we leave the gas station. “It sure is. It’s only five minutes away, so you can get your ice cream. I think I have you covered for snacks for a few hours, too.”
“So, look at this.” I pull up the screen on my phone and show it to Griff. “The town we’re going to is having their Pride Festival right now! It’ll be like old times. We can take in all the events and relive our youth.”
Griff reads the poster I saved in my photos, and it’s impossible to ignore the happiness that spreads across his face.
“Oh my god. They have so much stuff! I haven’t been to a Pride event in years.” He passes back my phone with a giant smile. “And we’re still young, you asshole. So stop with the ‘ relive our youth ’ shit.”
“Well, you’re the one wearing a fanny pack, old man.”
Griff gasps and clutches at his pack. “You take that back! This thing is amazing!”
“If you pull white socks up to your knees while wearing shorts, I’ll call for an intervention. ”
I try to keep my face straight, but can’t, and we both burst out laughing as we pile back into the truck. Griff is the most relaxed I’ve seen him. Even with the broken arm and scare we had a few days ago, he’s not looked this carefree since we first met.
“I’m really happy you agreed to do this vacation with me, Griff. It means a lot. I’m so excited to just be a tourist in this little town and not worry about bulls or training for a few days.”
Griff rips open a package of Twizzlers and offers me two. “Or your diet? Because we’ve done nothing but eat since we left the hospital.”
“Fuck the diet. I’m sure we’ll be working off all my extra calories. Besides, my metabolism still hasn’t slowed down yet. My body thinks I’m still a fourteen-year-old boy.”
“That tracks. Most days, you still act like one.”
Griff chuckles and tries to squish up against the door as I stretch across and push his face into the window.
“Ow, ow! My arm!”
Immediately, I sit back and pull away with both hands on the wheel and look for a place to pull over.
“Shit. I’m so sorry, Griff. Are you okay? I didn’t mean to…I was just…”
Then the little shit laughs and I shoot him a glare.
“You faker. Don’t do that. I nearly shit because I thought I hurt you.”
Spotting the sign for the ice cream place, I put my signal light on and glare at Griff.
“Sorry, Jamie. I was just playing.”
After pulling into the parking lot, I shove the truck into park and release a breath .
“Sorry. I snapped because…because I just don’t want you to hurt. You’ve already done enough of that. Please don’t joke about it.”
Griff stares at me for a few beats before holding out his good hand. “Restart. I won’t do that again, and you won’t tease me about my fanny pack.”
“And you’re buying me ice cream.”
My hand grips his, and we shake on it. The balance of the world restored that easily.
Griff pays for my ice cream, blueberry cheesecake explosion, and while we sit in the warm sun and eat our frozen treat before lunch, talking about what we plan to do in the next four days, it occurs to me that this is the first time since university I’ve felt this free. Free to be the person I was when I met Griff and not the young man hell-bent on becoming the best bull rider.
And I like it.