Chapter Four
Avery
I stared out the passenger-side window as the streetlights flashed by. I couldn’t get the guy from the diner out of my head; I had been thinking about him all afternoon. It was so strange—there was something about him that made me feel… weird. Not weird in a bad way, just… different.
I’d had my fair share of creeps that came into the diner and looked me up and down, and then proceed to watch me like a hawk thinking I didn’t notice. He was different. For the first time I liked that someone was creepin’ on me. Watching me as I worked. It was… hot.
He was hot!
So far from my type, though, it wasn’t even funny.
He was big, and nearly bald. Looked like an everyday meathead who spent more time in the gym than using his brain.
In fact, he was even a little scary. In most men, an intimidating aura guaranteed that all I wanted to do was run the other way. In the diner guy, however?
Shit. It was like I was drawn to him.
“Avery?”
“Hmm? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I was sayin’ how Markowski lost the bet, so he had to be the one to wrestle the homeless guy to the ground.
He was completely covered in shit!” David hooted, and even hit the wheel with the meat of his palm.
“Oh, fuck, you shoulda seen it. Not that being covered in shit is new for him, with how far up Chief’s ass he’s always climbing. ”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” I gave a half-hearted laugh and hoped it was enough to convince him that I actually gave a shit about his stupid story.
It seemed to do the trick, because he continued right on talking about how jealous Markowski was of him, and how close he and the chief were because he was marrying the chief’s son.
Same story I’d heard a thousand times. I kind of tuned it out when he got going on the same old, same old.
Cop antics were amusing the first dozen or so times, then they got tiresome.
David pulled into my parents’ driveway and I got out of the car. I opened the back, grabbed the large salad bowl covered with plastic wrap, and turned around to hand it to David only to realize he’d gone ahead inside without me.
Again.
I sighed, grabbed the pan of oatmeal chocolate chunk cookies, and carefully balanced it on the rim of the salad bowl. I used my foot to close the car door. I made it up the walk and pushed the door open with my shoulder. At least David had left it ajar.
“Hi sweetheart,” Mom called from the living room. “Oh, do you need help?”
David turned at my mother’s question and hurried over. “Avery, you should have said something,” he complained as he took the pan of cookies.
“Sorry,” I said. “I thought I could handle it.”
“It’s okay, babe. Next time just ask for help; it doesn’t make you weak. We’re a team.”
I turned towards the kitchen to put the salad down. It was clear David had already stepped into the Avery's parents are watching version of himself. I think even David knew it was an improvement on his personality anywhere else.
I pulled the plastic wrap off the salad and opened the utensil drawer to grab a pair of tongs.
“Your father is just finishing up the steaks on the grill,” Mom announced as she entered the kitchen. “I sent David outside to help.”
“Oh, wonderful. Now Dad will get distracted talking about god-knows-what with David, and he’ll burn the steaks like last time.”
Mom giggled. “They weren’t burnt; he just decided he wanted to try them well-done for a change.”
I snorted. “Yeah, extremely well done. I’d never had a crispy steak before. That was a first.”
Mom laughed again as she pulled a large Tupperware full of pasta salad from the fridge.
“Oh, remind me before we leave to get your cups,” I said. “I have two of them in David’s car, but my hands were full, and I couldn’t grab them.”
“Sure. A likely story. This morning you told me that you didn’t have any of them.”
“No, I didn’t. Also, you made it sound like I was hoarding three-quarters of your ridiculous collection.”
“Talk all the crap you want, Avery, but I don’t hear you complaining about my ridiculous collection when you’re running in here every morning like it’s your own personal Starbucks.”
“Well, when you brew Starbucks coffee and have more Starbucks cups than a retail store, what do you expect me to do? If you build it, they will come,” I shrugged.
“I’m gonna start charging. Lattes are now seven dollars.”
I snorted. “I don’t drink lattes. You’d need an espresso machine to even make a latte.”
“Fine, iced coffees are now $10.”
“Fine, two can play that game. Resetting your Facebook password is now $30.”
Her mouth dropped open dramatically. "How dare you speak to your mother that way?”
“You’re cracked,” I announced, grabbing the salad bowl and walking past her into the dining room.
I heard the sliding glass door open and a few seconds later my father came into the room bearing a platter covered in tinfoil, David right on his heels telling him how fantastic they smelled.
“It’s the garlic chili rub,” Dad explained as he set the platter down in the center of the table and walked around to where I was standing. “Avery…” he said as he squeezed my shoulder. I turned around and gave him a quick hug. “How’s the week?”
“Fine,” I answered. “Yours?”
“Not too bad, thank you. Better now that we’re all together. Did you bring your mother’s cup back? I’m tired of hearing about it.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about, Daddy. I don’t have any of her ugly cups.”
“Avery Jacob, you'll go to hell for lying,” my mother called from the other room.
“I’m already going to hell for being gay, so what’s the difference?”
My father guffawed, but my mother didn't respond. My sexuality was still a bit of a sore subject for her. Messed with her religion, and the way she thought the world worked. Dad was more forgiving, but only because I’d agreed to be with someone he approved of.
That right there was how I got roped into the whole mess with David.
I was allowed to be gay and not be disowned as long as I was gay on their terms, essentially.
It was better than the alternative. Being homeless, and trying to rely on my job at the diner for my every need.
I couldn’t even afford the shittiest apartment on what I made.
Especially not if I wanted to still be able to eat.
David wasn’t completely terrible, I guess.
His ego walked into the room a full 30 seconds before the rest of him, but I’d always envied people who were confident.
At least he was a decent lay, so he had that going for him.
Plus, he was objectively handsome. When my father had introduced us, I had actually been really excited.
Things between my father and I had been very strained in the months following me coming out.
He had a hard time with it and thought he had somehow failed as a father because of the way I turned out.
David had been a rookie on the Emberford Police Force, and had somehow made a positive impression on my father.
When he found out David was gay, it was all over.
It felt like I blinked a few times, and suddenly we were engaged, and I was moving into David’s condo on the west side.
Suddenly, I was taking care of a house. Doing chores, grocery shopping, cooking breakfast, packing his lunch, throwing dinner in the crockpot…
God, how did I get here?
“Babe, would you grab me a beer?”
“Sure,” I responded mindlessly. I turned around and headed back into the kitchen as I shook off my thoughts.
I grabbed two beers from the fridge and asked Mom if she needed any help.
“If you’d just take the plates out?”
I balanced four plates on one hand and held the bottlenecks between my fingers with an ease that I learned serving breakfast at the diner. Mom followed me out carrying a pan of roasted vegetables.
Once we were all seated and everyone's plate was full, we bowed our heads and Dad said grace.
“You boys coming over Sunday to watch the game?” he asked.
“Yeah, I planned on it,” David replied.
“I have to work,” I said.
David looked over at me. “You don’t usually work on Sunday.”
“Yeah, Nikki’s sister is coming into town with her niece, so I told her I would cover her lunch shift.”
“I still wonder when you are going to just quit that silly job and let me take care of you.”
I sighed. “I like my job. I’ve had it since I was 18. It gets me out of the house.”
“Yes, but what about when we have kids? They are going to need looking after.”
“Well, when you finally manage to knock me up, we'll discuss it.”
David frowned, and my dad wiped the corner of his mouth and cleared his throat.
“A detective’s salary is more than enough for a comfortable start for you kids,” he interjected.
“David isn’t a detective,” I pointed out.
My father looked over at David and smiled. “He is now. Congratulations, son, you’ve been promoted. That’s what the steaks are for. We’re celebrating!”
My mother squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, how amazing!”
“Are you serious? Chief, I don’t know what to say!” David rose from the table as my father did and came around to shake his hand. “I won’t let you down, sir. This means the world to me.”
I felt dazed. A detective’s salary meant even more security.
David had everything a sane person would want in a partner—a great job, an outgoing personality, good looks, and a bright future.
He said that he loved me and wanted to take care of me.
I had privilege, and time to pursue my interests.
It was an occasion worth celebrating. A real red-letter day.
I took a sip of my beer, but I had a lump in my throat when I swallowed.