17. Griff
seventeen
Griff
“ H ey, Griff!”
Jackson leans in for a hug, and I accept it. He steps aside and lets me into his home. His two dogs snuffle and jump for attention and don’t leave me alone until I give them each a peanut butter pretzel from my pocket.
“Riley just had to run into town for a few things to make dinner.” He offers me a glass of lemonade before pouring one for himself and motioning to the living room. “He figured you wanted to talk to just me first. Is that right?”
Jackson settles on the sofa, and his dog Tramp flops at his feet with a loud sigh.
“Yeah, that’s right. I mean, I would have been fine with him here, too, but I need to talk to you.”
Jackson absently pets the dog with his foot and leans back. He’s always been comfortable with his subdued ways, but today in his home, he’s so content with his lot in life, and it strikes me how much he has in common with Jamieson, but also how different they both are.
Jackson’s parents are amazing, and Jackson is a lot like them. He wants to make everything better and everyone happy. He always has, and it’s why I went to him first with my Jamieson issues .
“Um…so I kissed Jamie.”
Jackson raises his eyebrows, and I laugh.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” I can’t keep the goofy smile off my face. “It was awesome. We, uh…we’re together.”
“Are you happy?”
“Yeah. I’m elated, you know? Like, I’ve loved him forever. I didn't even realize how much and once I kissed him, and he kissed me back, it was…” Swallowing, I remember how Jamieson pulled me closer and kissed me like he meant it. “It was everything I ever wanted.”
Jackson’s smile is one that tells me he knows exactly what I mean.
“I’m happy for you, Griff. You deserve this, but what do you really want to talk about? A kiss and telling me you two are giving it a go is not what brought you here.”
He’s right about that, too. I sip my lemonade, my throat suddenly far too dry to get the words out. But it’s what I’m here for.
“You’re right. I guess I’m searching for guidance. You know I’ve always looked up to you, and I don’t have anyone to really talk to about this.” Jackson dips his head and bends to pet Tramp. “He asked to meet my dad and to help me, and I’m…I guess I’m afraid of how that might go.”
“Your dad? I thought you said he was okay with your sexuality?”
“He is. When he remembers. But he’s…” Fuck, just say it. Lots of people have parents worse than mine. “He’s an alcoholic. He’s not well and I…” My throat constricts, and I take a moment to breathe and swallow while I push away the panic of two people knowing about my dad now. “Nobody important to me has met him.”
Jackson seems unfazed by this and simply cuts to the point.
“Are you afraid Jamieson is going to run? Is that it?”
I don’t want to say it out loud because then it feels like a betrayal of Jamie. That I don’t trust or believe him to be genuine about his promises to be there for me.
“A little. But mostly I’m embarrassed. His parents are successful professionals with a beautiful home, and my mom left us when I was a kid. My dad has been drinking himself to death ever since. I grew up in a trailer park and had clothes from Goodwill. We couldn’t be more different.”
My hand shakes as I sip the lemonade and will myself to not have an anxiety attack about possibly losing Jamie because I finally dared to show him where I come from.
Jackson moves and comes to sit next to me. He nudges my shoulder.
“Come here.” He doesn’t wait for me to turn to him. He just wraps his arms around me in a hug. “I know for a fact he won’t think anything less of you. We can’t change how we grew up or who our parents are. It may have shaped your life in ways he can’t understand, but I promise you, he’d never judge you or turn you away.”
“You can’t know that, though.”
“Yes, I can, and I’ll tell you why. Because Jamieson may come across as oblivious to things, but he has a heart of gold, and he would never leave a friend over something so trivial. I know that, Griff. He’s a good guy, and sometimes it takes things like this for people to really learn about the human condition, you know? He’s led a sheltered life in some ways, but not on purpose.”
“Why do you always sound so worldly and have an answer to everything?”
Jackson releases the hug and returns to his spot while Tramp runs to the door when it opens.
“I wouldn’t say I have an answer to everything, but I know people well and Jamieson is good people.”
Keys jingle, and Riley’s voice drifts to us as he talks to the dogs. Jackson grins at me with the dopiest smile before he twists to watch Riley settle a grocery bag on the counter before bending over to pet the dogs.
He turns back to me. “It’s not always easy, Griff. I won’t lie. But it’s so fucking worth it. You okay with Riley here now?”
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Jackson stands, and I follow suit. “Jackson.” He turns back towards me. “Thank you. For everything.”
“Anytime, Griff. The door is always open.”
He greets Riley in the kitchen, and Riley shouts a hello that I return, but I hang behind, and let them have their moment. As I watch them interact, the ache to have a normal domestic life like theirs grows. A shared kitchen. The touches as you move around together, hell, even the arguments over changing the toilet paper and which way is correct. (It’s over the top, no debate.)
My phone vibrates in my pocket and it’s a text from Jamieson.
Jamie: I know you’re over at Jackson’s, but I was wondering if I could come over tonight? Totally cool if you’re not up for it.
Griff: Do you want to stay over?
Jamie: Yes!
He adds emojis with heart eyes and I can’t help the grin on my face.
“Texting someone special?” Riley appears with a tray of veggies and cheese and sets it on the coffee table with a stern finger point at Carrot, the beagle, to go lie down.
“Yeah. Um, thanks for giving me time with Jackson today. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“You didn’t. Did me a favour, really. He loves nothing more than to make his friends happy. He’s a helper, and I love that about him.” Riley snatches a carrot from the tray. “Did you know my parents basically gave me up to my aunt because I was a burden to them? They didn’t want a gay son…or any child, for that matter.”
“Shit. I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry.”
He waves his hand and keeps munching his carrot. “Don’t be. My aunt is way more fun and why should I long for something like two parents and all that crap when my aunt loves me like her own and gave me more than they ever did?” Riley huffs a little and shakes his head. “I’m not saying this well. What I’m trying to say is, you’re a worthy human, no matter who raised you or how you grew up. Jackson just mentioned you’re worried about Jamieson meeting your dad, and if he’s worth his salt, he won’t care.”
Riley offers a carrot to…Carrot and raises a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell Jackson. I give him far too much shit for spoiling these two. He’d never let me live it down.”
Riley and I chat while Jackson cooks something that makes my mouth water. I feel a little guilty for not joining Jamieson at his parents’ for dinner, but I needed to talk to someone first about Jamie meeting my dad. I already agreed he could come with me tomorrow, but of course, I had to worry about whether it was the right thing.
I’m a creature of habit in all things. Even my tendency to worry.
Plus, I hadn’t seen Jackson for a while, and I’ve missed him on the tour with us. Riley is a good guy, too, and it’s just nice to catch up with them. They’re part of a family I made myself, and holding onto that thought will serve me well.
When dinner is over, I offer to help clean up, but they both shush me away. Jackson walks me to the door and hugs me again before I go.
“Have faith, Griff. It’ll work out. I know it.”
“Thanks. I’m just nervous.”
“You’re allowed to be, and if shit goes sideways, you have my number.” He slaps my shoulder again. “Now get out of here. If I know Jamieson, he’s chomping at the bit to see you right now.”
I laugh at the accuracy. My phone has been buzzing for the last fifteen minutes with an impatient Jamieson.
“Thanks again, Jackson. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Before I pull away, I text Jamie to let him know I’m on my way home. He hearts the comment, and I don’t know why, but that settles me a little.
When I arrive home and take my usual parking spot at my building, I spy Jamieson’s truck on the street.
I live above a small bookshop and coffee bar downtown. It’s tiny and all I’ve ever needed. Parking only needed to accommodate my tiny car, but Jamieson has never seemed to mind parking on the street.
After climbing the short flight of stairs and entering the code to my little sunroom off my apartment, I smell Jamie before I see him. It’s a mixture of leather soap and orange, the stuff he uses to condition his chaps. The scent seems to cling to him more than the leather most days.
When my eyes land on him leaning against the wall, I suck in a quick breath.
“Hey, babe.” He pushes off my wall and crosses over to me. Hands in his pockets and a shy grin. “I didn’t want to sit in my truck. Hope it’s okay that I let myself in.”
“Of course it is. You could have used the spare key to let yourself all the way inside.”
“Maybe I did.”
Shaking my head at his cryptic words, I turn the key in the lock and open the door. Jamieson steps in quickly behind me, closing the door and turning the deadbolt while I stare at the giant balloon with a note attached in my hallway.
“What’ s this?”
“Open the note and find out.”
My heart races as I remove the note from the shiny blue balloon.
Griff,
When I met you, you wore a blue shirt like this balloon. I remember thinking how it made your eyes look really blue.
The smile that comes to my face is automatic, and I snort. “Really blue?”
“You know I’m not good at the whole descriptive thing. Keep going, there’s more.”
The hallway is short, so it’s only a few steps before I enter the living room and gasp. “Jamie…did you buy out the balloon store?”
Various colours of balloons fill my living room, all with notes attached.
“They’re numbered. See?” Jamieson spins the one closest to us and shows me it’s a three. “You need to find number one, then two…it goes in order.”
“What is all this?”
He swallows before pulling me to him and placing a soft kiss on my lips.
“A surprise and a way to show you that maybe I’ve always loved you, too.” He pulls a red balloon over with a number one. “Start here.”
This envelope has another note in his messy handwriting that really hasn’t changed since university.
“The first time we hung out after a rodeo, you ordered a burger with no pickles and told me you aced your sociology exam.”
Note two is on a yellow balloon .
“This is the colour of that vile medicine you made me drink when I had strep throat second year.”
“You had to drink that! I didn’t make you!”
“If you didn’t come over every six hours to make sure I took it, I probably wouldn’t have. So yeah, you made me.”
I work my way through the balloons in order, like he said to, and realize the notes are chronological. Each one is a memory of me or us since we’ve been friends. Some are funny and some are factual, but once I reach the ones after graduation, the notes take on more feeling.
“The day we fought about Homewrecker, I snapped at you because I was jealous you were helping other bull riders. I was afraid I was losing you.”
That one has me huffing a breath, and I look at Jamieson. “Jealous? Really?”
“It was the first time I’d seen you speaking to another bull rider more than me about the bulls. I thought I was just being oversensitive or what not, but I think it was then I realized you meant more to me and I didn’t know what to do with that.”
I’m almost afraid to read the final three balloons, but I also want to know what else he has to share.
“Why the balloons?”
“Oh. Heh…” Jamieson smiles and the dimple pops on his right cheek, making him look like he’s a teenager again. “That doesn’t really have any great meaning. I just thought it would be fun because who doesn’t like balloons?”
“Nobody has ever given me balloons before.”
“Wait until you see the last one, then.”
“So mysterious. ”
Balloon eight.
“You’re the only one who calls me Jamie, and the first time you did, it felt like I was special. More than your friend.”
Reaching for balloon nine, I pull the note off and immediately feel my eyes water.
“I wish I had stayed with you during spring break. I hate that you were alone.”
He passes me balloon ten.
“One night when you were on a date, I got drunk because I missed you.”
Balloon eleven gets passed to me as he wipes a tear off my cheek.
“I’ve laid awake thinking of you every night since you kissed me. Even when I held you, I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”
“If your intention was to make me cry, mission accomplished.” I sniffle as I place all the notes on the table and turn to him.
“Tears of joy, though, right?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Phew, good. There’s one more, and I hope you don’t hate me for it.”
“I could never hate you,” I whisper and hold his gaze. He smiles softly and runs his knuckles down my cheek.
“I’m holding you to that,” he whispers hoarsely. “You don’t know what I did yet.” He wraps an arm around my waist and leads me to my bedroom. The door is closed, which I never do. Jamieson puts himself between me and the door, and I notice the worry flitting across his handsome features.
“I think I can confidently say nothing you do will make me hate you. You filled my apartment with balloons and love notes, Jamie. That’s not a bad thing. ”
“Well, here goes.” He opens the door to my bedroom, and a large paper sun is hanging from the ceiling. It’s clearly homemade, and that just makes my chest ache in new ways. A small kiddie pool filled with sand is on the floor next to my bed, and seashells cover every surface of my room. They’re on my dresser and nightstand, there are stickers on the wall of sea creatures and more shells.
Then I hear it. Over the roaring of blood in my ears, a soundtrack of crashing waves is playing. Jamie’s arms circle me from behind, and he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“You really loved the beach, and all I could think of was one day we’d go on a real vacation, and I’d take you to an ocean to find your seashells. Until then, I brought the beach to you. I hope you don’t hate it.” He pulls over a Mylar balloon in the shape of a heart, and I open note twelve.
“I love you.”
Gulping in a breath, I try to calm all the emotions and keep it together.
“When did you do all this?”
“While you were at Jackson’s. Riley wasn’t just getting groceries in town. He helped.”
“You’re extra sneaky.”
“Do you like it?”
Jamieson’s voice carries the nerves of approval, and I turn in his arms.
“No one has ever done anything like this for me. I’m overwhelmed, and I’m wondering how I’ll manage to not step into the sandbox, but I love it. I love you. ”
Pressing my lips to his, I convey my feelings in a kiss. Words are far too hard right now, and thankfully, Jamie understands that because he kisses me back with the same frantic energy.
“I can move the pool to the living room for you,” he whispers as his lips brush along my jaw.
“Leave it for now. I’ve never had sex on the beach.”
Jamieson’s lips part in surprise. “Shit. I didn’t think about the side effects of doing all of this. But I love that idea.”