Chapter 12
Teague
I hadn’t seen much of Charlie for the past week. Not for lack of trying on my part though. I would have thought he was avoiding me except it was clearly circumstance. When we did see each other, we always said “hi” and even had a bit of a conversation if we could. Which was good. Great even. Any minute I could get with him made me happy. But he wasn’t always in the office when I came through in the mornings with the pastry delivery, and Oak had taken to waiting outside in the parking lot after he was done for the day. I couldn’t very well tell the kid he had to wait inside just so I had the opportunity to maybe talk to Charlie.
But I finally had the perfect excuse.
As July tipped into August, the heat reached unusual levels. Normally, the hottest it got was somewhere in the low 80s. Today, though, it would hit 91 degrees. And that was far too hot to be standing in the scorching sun, waiting for me to arrive. I told Oak as much, but he just scoffed.
“I’m used to it. That’s normal for this time of year in Utah.”
“Still. Do me the favor and just wait inside, will ya?” I laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. Then a thought occurred. “I hope Charlie is okay in this heat.”
Oak turned to look at me fully, and since we were on a straight stretch of road, I glanced over. The side eye he was giving me was epic. “What?”
“You know he’s from Arizona, right? This is nothing compared to what he’s used to.”
“I did not, in fact, know that.” I hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why he’s always covered up? Jeans and long sleeves,” I mused, mostly to myself as I turned my attention back to the road in front of me.
“That’s not why.” Oakley’s voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear him.
“Why then?” I asked before I thought better of it.
“You like him; don’t you? Charlie, I mean. You like him.”
I knew what Oak meant without him having to put the stress on the word. “Yeah. Or at least, I definitely could. He’s beautiful. I bet he’s got a gorgeous body hiding under those clothes.”
“First of all, ew. You’re my uncle, I don’t want to hear you say that.” Oak took a breath and his voice turned serious. “But second of all, and more importantly, we don’t comment on people’s bodies. It’s rude, gross, and a bad take.”
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but for once, my brain engaged before my mouth ran away with itself. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
Oak let out a sound that I couldn’t identify. “You’re a good guy, Uncle Teague. You’re just like ‘yep, I messed up, I’ll do better.’ Which is the only reason I’m telling you this. Because I know you’re good and you like him.”
“How else would I be? You know what? Never mind. I know assholes out here would argue instead of listening.” I made the turn into the parking lot and coasted to a stop in a spot by the doors. “But I am listening. So, what did you want to say?”
Oak was silent for a long moment, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his lip. When he spoke, his voice was soft, and there was a gravity to it that really made me pay attention. “Charlie has body dysmorphia. Like, he looks at his body and all he can see is what’s wrong and ugly. He’s not comfortable in his own skin.”
I opened my mouth. Shut it. Thought for a second and opened my mouth again. All that came out was a hurt sound. My poor, sweet, beautiful Charlie. How could he look at himself and not see how gorgeous he was? Unless…
“Is he trans?”
Oakley quickly shook his head. “No. He’s cis.”
“Then how can he—”
“He just does.” Oakley unbuckled and grabbed the handle. Before he popped the door open, he looked back at me. “There’s reasons for that, which he can tell you himself if he ever wants to. And I only told you because it’s info you need if you’re gonna get together. I trust you, Uncle Teague.”
The last was said with such sincerity, I couldn’t help but smile. But more than that, I felt the weight of his words. He was not only trusting me to do the right thing, but also that I was safe to share this with. That meant the world to me.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Oak popped open his door and jumped down. “I’ll do the delivery today. I’ll see you this afternoon."
He slammed the door shut and then opened the back door to retrieve the Sugar Rush boxes. “The little one is for Charlie.”
Oakley rolled his eyes but he was smirking. “Yeah, I know. The daily Unicorn Fart. It’s giving desperation.”
“Shut up,” I said with a chuckle. “I’ll see you later. Have a good day at work.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but I watched him as he jogged to the front door and disappeared through it. Normally, I would have started the engine and driven away, knowing that there was a pile of work waiting for me at the sawmill. But instead, I sat there, letting all my newfound info sink in.
I couldn’t wrap my brain around it though. I just didn’t understand how anyone who looked like Charlie could look at themselves and not see how stunning they were. He’d made my brain short out the first time I’d seen him, that was how good-looking he was. And yet he hated the way he looked? It just didn’t make sense.
Twenty minutes later, I was still sitting in the parking lot, but I’d skimmed through two articles and one blog post about body dysmorphia. I bookmarked them to read later and tossed my phone on the passenger seat. I rubbed my hands over my face. I sort of understood what body dysmorphic disorder was, but it would take more reading for me to really get it.
Looking back, I could see why some of the things I’d said had made Charlie react the way he did. I would do better going forward, because I sure as hell didn’t want to trigger him. Trigger anyone, really. Sometimes something like this slapped me in the face and I realized how my broken brain-to-mouth filter, and my general conditioning as a privileged male, could be perceived by others. I really needed to do better. Not just for Charlie, but he was my motivating factor.
And I knew just where to start my education.
Felix Decker lived on the outskirts of town, on an acre of land off Route 11. Since it was still early, there was a good chance he’d be home. His mother usually opened and ran the store in the mornings, and he would go in for the afternoon and evening. I hadn’t called ahead, so I was taking a chance. But after more than twenty years of friendship, I knew Felix pretty well.
I backed the truck in close to his carport, which was a feat I was rather proud of considering his winding drive, and dropped the tailgate with a clang so I could start unloading the firewood. Felix had a firewood rack under the carport roof up against the house, to keep it safe from the weather. With the back door right around the corner, it was easy enough for him to carry in what he needed as he needed it. But I always unloaded and stacked the wood outside so he didn’t have to exert himself.
It was routine and methodical, so my mind was wandering as I completed my task. I was halfway through when I recognized the squeak of his screen door, followed by the clomp of boots and the tap of his cane. I paused and looked up at his front porch to see Felix rest his cane against the railing, then lean on the wide upper rail.
“Bit early for a delivery, eh?”
“It’s after nine, and I knew you’d be awake,” I said with a shrug and a grin.
“I meant in the season,” he responded drily. His brown eyes sparkled with amusement though it didn’t show on his face.
I leaned against the fender of my truck. “This heat is only going to last a couple of days. Then we’ll be back to the regular high 40s-low 50s overnight. You’ll need it. I only brought half a cord.”
“Mhmm.” Felix shifted his stance and barely masked the wince. “Except usually I call your dad and put in an order before you deliver.”
“Yeah, well. At Mulligan’s Firewood, we aim to provide exceptional customer service to our regular clients.” I waggled my eyebrows and Felix finally broke, a small laugh escaping.
“What’s up, Teague?”
I could pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about but we’d both know I was lying. Because he did usually place an order and me showing up out of the blue was out of the ordinary. He knew me well enough to know that I had an ulterior motive. I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
Felix’s grin turned cheeky. “You’ve had your tongue down my throat, I figure that entitles you to personal questions.”
I threw back my head and laughed, grateful Felix had broken the weird tension that had been humming in the air. And his statement was true enough, even though that had been a good fifteen years ago. We’d been best friends in high school and both figuring ourselves out. A few kisses and some touching had made us realize that yes, we were both into boys, but also that we were far better off as friends than anything else. Fortunately for us, it hadn’t ruined our friendship and only made it stronger. Which came in handy when he came back to town, because we’d been able to pick up where we’d left off.
With no easy way to say it, and since it was Felix, I just dove right in. “Are you dysmorphic about your legs?”
Felix choked on nothing and coughed for a few seconds. “Shit, you don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“Uh, sorry?”
He waved that away, then grabbed his cane. “Come up here. I need to sit.”
By the time I darted around my truck and made it up the porch steps, Felix was easing himself into one of the two Adirondack chairs to the left of the door. I hovered while trying to make it look like I wasn’t until he was settled. He stretched out his legs and then let out a little sigh of relief. I stepped around him and then plopped into the seat next to him.
I couldn’t help staring at his legs, even though they were covered in jeans. Just like Charlie . But in Felix’s case, it was a bungee jumping accident, where on his return he’d smashed into the bridge he’d jumped off. It had taken multiple surgeries and more than a year of rehab before he’d been able to walk again. Both his legs were a mass of knotted scar tissue, some of which were keloid.
“Eyes are up here, man,” Felix said, but I could tell by his tone he wasn’t really upset. Probably because it was me, since I knew staring in general annoyed him.
“I’m sorry.” I immediately looked up and made sure to only focus on his face.
Felix studied me for a long moment and then let out a huff of breath. “To answer your question, yeah, sometimes. Not as much as I used to be, especially right after. But I think they’re ugly and flawed, and there are times I hate looking at them.”
“So, you cover them up.”
He squinted at me. “Yes. Then I don’t have to look at them. And no one else can stare. If no one, including me, can see the damage, then I can pretend it doesn’t exist. That I’m still whole.”
I reared back. “You are whole!”
Felix shook his head. “You’re thinking about it like an able-bodied person. One who isn’t in constant pain or has a stark reminder of a bad choice. My legs aren’t what they used to be. Some days, it’s all I can do to get out of bed. The scars are ugly, the keloids hurt and itch, and there are days when each step is agony. So yeah, I cover them up and hide them away.”
I grabbed his hand and, after a second, he flipped his over to hold mine. We sat like that for a long moment, and I tried to figure out what to say. I wasn’t always great at words, and I knew platitudes didn’t help. But they were all I had.
“I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry.” I kept my voice soft and my gaze on his. “Thank you for sharing that with me. And if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
Felix squeezed my hand then gently pulled away. “I know you mean that, so thanks. You can make it better by telling me what brought this on.”
I made my eyes big. “What do you mean?”
Felix snorted. “Don’t play innocent with me. Why are you asking?”
I blew out a breath. I knew pretending wouldn’t work. Maybe with someone else but not Felix. “There’s someone I know who always covers up. And I just learned he has body dysmorphia. I’m trying to understand. I don’t want to say anything that hurts him, you know? Anything more, at any rate.”
“You like him,” Felix stated with a knowing smile.
There was no use hiding it. I nodded. Felix adjusted his position and winced as he moved his left leg. It was worse than his right, and the only benefit to that was that on his good days, Felix could still drive a car without any adaptive devices. He’d come back to Fairville after he had already mostly healed, both to ease his mother’s mind and to buy the antique store from his uncle. Loreena wanted him close, after his near-death experience and though he had never said it, I think Felix had wanted a slower pace. It hadn’t been his big dream, but I could tell my friend was at least content, if not happy.
When he poked my arm, I realized I’d been lost in thought instead of answering his question. “Yeah. I do. And I want to get to know him, but we didn’t get off on the best foot and I’ve had to make up a lot so I’m particularly conscious of not setting us back.”
Felix gave me a knowing look. “What’d you do?”
I groaned and told him of how Charlie and I first met, while leaving out Charlie’s name and pertinent details, like where he now worked. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Felix, because I absolutely did. But it was more that I didn’t want to spread any info if Charlie would rather keep it quiet. Until I knew for sure, I kept it vague.
When I finished, Felix made a thoughtful noise. He sat back and stared off into the middle distance. I leaned back too, waiting him out. Eventually, he took a breath.
“First let me say that body dysmorphia is not a one size fits all kind of thing. It’s very individual and looks different for each person.”
I scowled. “I know that.”
“Good,” he said without acknowledging my tone. “Then my only advice is to be careful with your words. Think before you speak, Teague. I know that you’re not always good at that.”
“Jerk,” I muttered, not meaning it at all. He was right.
Felix chuckled. “You’ve got a good heart, dude. Listen to him, and when he tells you what he needs, do it. It’s not that different from what you need to do in any relationship. Just maybe with an added layer of caution so you don’t trip a trigger.”
“I hear you,” I murmured, already committing this to memory. What Felix said made sense, and I needed to absorb it into my core so I didn’t accidentally say the wrong thing.
“Good. Now, that wood won’t stack itself.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I pushed to my feet and gave him the finger, making him laugh. I grinned in response and jogged down the steps and back to work.
As I unloaded and stacked the rest of the firewood, I let the whole conversation replay in my brain. I would be cautious and careful with Charlie, because he deserved it, and if I was lucky, he’d let me in.