Chapter 11
The following afternoon, Foster entered Gabriel’s Meats and scanned the interior.
The last time he remembered being there was with his dad as a kid, and the place had been smelly and dated back then.
No longer. It was a sophisticated joint with a sleek design.
Not only did they have an expanded meat display with gorgeous cuts, but another with semi-prepared, ready-to-cook items. They’d also expanded into the next building with a small gourmet deli and cheese shop.
A wide entry between made it all one big experience.
A few folks sat at the four small tables inside the deli, eating hoagies, so they apparently served some food, as well.
The place was hopping, too. There were multiple long lines with customers waiting to be served and another at the register.
Employees hustled behind the counters or took orders, clearly on familiar terms with many of their customers from the conversations happening.
It was a lot to take in. The photos online hadn’t done it justice or prepared him.
He pretended to survey the wares while he searched the faces of the folks behind the scenes, looking for a recognizable one.
No one stood out. A couple of the men might’ve been Jude, but he couldn’t be sure without a closer look.
He’d been there a solid ten and still hadn’t seen who he was looking for, though.
A big guy bounded out of a back door, carrying an overloaded tray of meat.
He slid it into one of the display cases before checking the other products inside.
He looked a bit like the guy in the picture, but Foster couldn’t be absolutely sure.
The right hair color if the facial hair inside the beard net matched what was under the white hairnet.
Foster’s heart started beating harder as he moved closer. His mouth went dry. He rubbed his palms on his thighs as he slowly made his way over.
What the fuck was he going to say?
He’d rehearsed a few things, but they’d all sounded flat.
“Hey, Rita! Make sure you put an extra sausage in Mrs. Giovani’s package on me. I know how much Sal loves them,” the guy behind the counter yelled down the case to one of the employees working the meat case.
“You’re so good to us, Jude,” Mrs. Giovani yelled back, grinning as well as confirming it was Jude. “I’ll have to bring you some of my lasagna the next time I make it.”
“Bring it on,” Jude said, smiling. “I love your lasagna, Mrs. G! Tell Sal he needs to get his ass in gear and fix that mailbox of yours or I’m gonna go and do it myself.”
“You know him. He’ll get to it when he gets to it,” Mrs. Giovani yelled.
Jude chuckled and eyed Foster. He offered a smile and looked back down at the case, but when his gaze instantly whipped back up, the smile was gone.
Those eyes. Even without the heavy eyeliner they were still the same piercing green he still saw in his dreams.
And nightmares.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jude asked, eyes narrowing.
Foster’s mind went blank, his stomach turning. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to force words out of his mouth.
“I came… to apologize.”
“Apologize?” Jude asked.
“For… what happened. The locker room… everything that came after. I’m so sorry, Jude.”
“Shove your apology up your ass… and get out of my shop,” Jude snapped.
His shop? Foster walked a little closer to the case, lowering his voice. “I know you hate me.”
“You’re right. I do.”
“I’m sorry, Jude. I really am.”
“Fifteen years too late, Foster.” Jude glared at him. “Leave before I throw you out.”
The last time they’d wrestled, it had turned into his first kiss from a boy. What would come of a second? He almost welcomed Jude coming for him.
“I’ll leave,” Foster said, lifting his hands in surrender instead. “I just… wanted you to know that I was truly sorry.”
“Now I know. Get out.” Jude turned and disappeared through a back door without another word.
Foster forced back the bile rising up his throat. He turned to see most of the folks in the shop staring at him. If only a hole would open up and swallow him.
But then, that was only a tiny fraction of the embarrassment and shame Jude had dealt with. He saw disgust in some of the eyes staring at him, and he deserved it.
All of it.
He shouldn’t have come to Jude’s place of work, that was on him. But he’d not been able to suss out a home address. And if he hadn’t come and done it while he had the courage, it might never have happened.
“I’m the asshole here,” he announced to the onlookers. He didn’t want Jude’s customers to think poorly of him. He cast a glance toward the door Jude had disappeared through. “It’s on me.”
He spun and stalked out, not feeling any better than he had before walking in.
It had been the right thing to do, hadn’t it?
Maybe Jude was right.
His apology had come fifteen years too late to do any good.
Jude watched through the tiny window in the cutting room door and held his breath until Foster left. When he finally did, Jude released the air from his lungs and relaxed his shoulders.
“What’s up?” Paulie asked, pausing on his way from the cooler with a case of whole chickens in hand.
“Just some asshole,” Jude said, glancing out again to make sure Foster was definitely gone. “I sent him packing.”
“Who was it?” Paulie asked, tossing the case on the poultry cutting table.
“You remember Foster Price?”
Paulie looked thoughtful a moment as he sliced open the case with a box cutter.
“Yeah, yeah. The quarterback who choked in the semi-finals for the state championship. I heard he was back in town.” Paulie chuckled.
“Also heard that wife of his tossed him out on his ass so he came running home to mommy.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
Paulie shrugged. “I dunno.” He paused, frowning. “I think it was Kevin. He bartends over at McMurphy’s a few nights a week. Apparently Foster’s been stopping in for drinks on the regular with Cary Archer, so you know what that probably means.”
“What does that mean?” Jude asked, his eyes narrowing. Are Cary and Foster a thing? Inquiring minds want to know…
Paulie stopped and looked at up at Jude, eyes wide. “I meant nothing by it, I swear. I sometimes forget… you know… that you…” Paulie sighed. “I’m sorry, Jude. I just meant that maybe Foster likes the boys and not the girls, you know?”
“And if he does? Is that a problem?”
“No, but it might be the reason the missus kicked him out, right?”
Jude lifted a brow.
Paulie lowered the knife he’d been using to break down the whole chickens and faced Jude. “I apologize. Whoever Foster likes is his business. I got caught up in the gossip and… opened my big, dumb fucking mouth. Forgive me?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jude muttered.
Paulie frowned, appearing worried. “Shit, man… I have no problem with who you enjoy being with. You know that. You wanna be gay, be gay. It don’t hurt me in any way and ain’t my business.”
“Fine,” Jude said. “Let’s move on.”
Paulie looked a little relieved and picked up his knife. “Yeah. Whatever you say, boss. I’ll have this case cut down to quarters and pieces in no time. Lemme know if you want me to do a second one before I clean up.”
“Go ahead and do another. The case was real low,” Jude said before walking on to the tiny office in the back.
He sat down at his father’s desk and shut the door before scrubbing his face with both hands and then dragging out his phone.
He quickly found Foster on Insta and checked out the guy’s photos.
The most recent were months old, close to a year ago.
Him and Ashley dressed to the nines, out at some restaurant.
Ashley looked… off. Like she’d had some work done.
But her toothy smile was the same. She’d always made him think of a shark with a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth that would tear you to shreds.
She leaned in close to Foster, showing off her trim body.
Foster, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.
Sure, he smiled, but it was weak, and if you looked in his eyes, you could see he was forcing it.
Jude scrolled down farther, to earlier photos, and it was much the same.
As he scrolled back up to the top, it was like watching Foster fading away, though.
The smiles were less wide. The eyes more vacant.
Ashley was tagged in his photos, so Jude clicked on her profile. First up was a photo of a bikini-clad Ashley clinging to someone who definitely wasn’t Foster on some tropical getaway. His gaze went to the top of the post. A month ago in Maui. So, she was already vacationing with new boyfriends?
Good for her.
Jude tossed his phone onto the desk, not sure what that little bit of digging had done to help anything. What did he care if they were separated or if Ashley was seeing other people? It mattered not a lick.
Not a one.
So why did he grab his phone to do a little more digging before forcing himself to go back to work?