4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
William
A full work week later, I was still kicking myself in the ass over turning into a bumbling fool during the greatest opportunity I'd had to truly apologize for how shitty I'd done Elijah in high school and how much I regretted it. I was so damn mad at myself I went out of my way to avoid him for the whole week. I'd done a full tune-up on his little Honda, left without saying goodbye, and straight up disappeared from his normal routes and favorite places to visit. Like the yellow-bellied coward I was.
Raine had called me mopey every day during shift handover. The people I ran into regularly kept asking me if I was feeling okay. My friends were on their way over for what would likely be an interrogation. Hell, even my Dad, with all his memory issues, noticed the change in me. All because I was too scared to open my mouth and apologize.
More importantly, and perhaps a large part of my struggle, was the fact that, when confronted with the brief moment of vulnerability that came with standing face to face with him in his kitchen, I wanted to forego talking all together and kiss him till we were both stupid. The urge struck so hard that I ran. Not because I was afraid of what I was feeling but because the idea of being rejected the way I rejected him made the whole thing so overwhelming and monumental and real that I couldn't breathe.
I kept myself busy in the backyard to prepare for when my friends would descend. Summer was quickly drawing to a close—the nights were cooler, the trees and landscaping all looked tired and ready to go dormant at the first sign of frost, and the grass was dry and coarse. We were going to take advantage of the warm weather for as long as we had it. The charcoal in my little grill was rosy and smoldering just right. The cooler was stocked full in the shade. I'd even dragged the cornhole game out of the shed. My buddies and I had vastly different lives now that we had grown into men, but we would always have our love of sports and games and competitiveness to bond us together.
Josh was the first to arrive, lugging baby Grayson and enough equipment to stock a children’s supply store with him. Since Raine was on shift tonight, we’d all be helping play babysitter. I didn't mind it one bit, scooping up the little pudge as soon as Josh ambled into the backyard.
“Who’s my baby?” My saccharine sweet baby talk earned me a belly laugh from the little blondie. I flew him across the yard to admire the weary blooms in the garden beds.
“Me, me, me!” Josh chuckled and stretched his back after dropping the playpen and diaper bag beside a lawn chair. “How you been, Will?”
“Eh, fine.” I play-nipped at Grayson’s little fingers with a brighter smile than I'd had all week. “You?”
“Tired but ready to call bullshit on your story. Raine said you've been acting like someone kicked your dog for days, and since you don't have a dog, I'm curious.”
With a scowl, I turned away from him. “Your daddy doesn't know what he’s talking about.” I propped the baby on my hip and needlessly fussed over my grilling utensils.
“Come on, man. Don't be stubborn—”
“Woohoo! Let’s get ready to rumble!” Voices and cheers emanating from the side yard announced the arrival of more people. Benjamin Tully’s cries were instantly recognizable. He was by far the most exaggerated of our group. His shaggy blond hair, brighter in color after a whole summer of running his lawn care business, was corralled under a backward baseball cap. It was the same damn cap we’d all worn as part of the varsity baseball team.
Dennis and Cameron followed behind, joining in on the carousing as they hefted a cooler between them. Dennis was a Park Ranger for the local forest preserve. Cam worked as a ski instructor in the winter and supplemented his income over the summer with guided hiking tours and fly fishing trips. Needless to say, we were all outdoorsy, active, and reluctant to sit still for too long. We were only missing one of our friends, but Tony was on duty as an EMT tonight. Such was the way of adulthood—work, work, and the occasional, rare miracle of being able to arrange schedules for fun.
As soon as everyone got settled, we began a game of hot potato with baby Grayson. We all loved this kid like he was our own. Josh was the only one in our friend group with a kid, and we’d made a pledge to him the day he told us about it that it wouldn't change a thing. We’d lied—it changed everything but for the better. He never felt left behind because we were all dedicated to making sure we accommodated the newest member of our little circle. Six months in, Grayson had five doting uncles and a healthy appreciation for barbecues, bonfires, and cornhole.
The yard was soon filled with the scent of hot dogs and hamburgers as I manned the grill with a beer in hand. I wasn't going to comment on the fact that it was the same brand of beer EJ had offered me the day I tucked my tail between my legs and ran. A sigh fell from my lips, unbidden, as I eyed the label before taking a long drink from the pale amber liquid.
“Bro, you were right.” Benji shook his head and propped his hands on his hips. “It's bad. Like, code red shit.”
“Told ya!” Dennis elbowed Benji before reaching over to scoop Grayson out of Josh’s arms. “He's hit rock bottom, sad puppy status.”
“Oh, shut it.” I clacked the tongs at Dennis and earned a peel of laughter from the baby for it.
“Give it to us straight. What’s up?” Cameron looped an arm around my neck and jostled me to and fro. “Girl? Guy? Work? Dad?”
I laughed and shook my head, stealing a glance at the back door. They all knew the deal—I was stuck in limbo with one foot in the closet and one out. My dad was a full-blown homophobic asshole. He was the entire reason I had panicked after experiencing the most mind-blowing kiss of my life courtesy of my best friend behind the school bleachers.
“It’s… it’s EJ.” I flicked my eyes back toward the group.
“Did you get to talk to him?” Benji perked up with a huge grin. “Bro, did you finally ask him out?”
“No. God, could you imagine that conversation?” I shook my head and flipped a few more hot dogs. “Hi, sorry I was a total dick and treated you like a leper. PS I'm gay, always have been, wanna hang?”
“Hey guys, speaking of… I saw a guy yesterday in a suit and… wooo. Man. I think I might be a little gay.” Benji. Sweet, sweet Benji. If there was ever a man who could perfectly encapsulate the term himbo, it was him. “That’s a thing, right? Could I be like eighty-twenty gay but only for guys in suits?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that's a thing, Benj.” I shook my head and stifled a laugh.
“Sweet. Hold up… Did I just come out?”
We all exchanged glances, checking his expression to see how serious he was. The sweet summer child was staring back, earnest and as serious as I'd ever seen him.
“Congrats, man.” Dennis clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the club.”
“Aww, shit. That’s so awesome for me!” Benji fist-pumped with a whoop.
Grateful that the attention was off me for a while, I concentrated on the food, needlessly flipping and turning things on the grill as I half-listened to Cam and Benji discussing, of all things, suit porn. The fact that Cam was holding six-month-old Grayson while showing Benji things on his phone didn't seem to bother anyone. Raine would flip her lid. I laughed under my breath just as Josh appeared at my side with a fresh beer from the cooler for me.
“Your kid’s first word is going to be ‘hung' if you don't stop those two.” I jerked my chin toward our friends.
“He’s already ruined. You hear Rainey’s mouth when she's on a roll.” Josh clinked the necks of our bottles together. “EJ, huh?”
“Oh God, not you too.”
“Man, I wasn't going to say anything, but you've been pining for a decade. Did you really think it escaped Raine’s attention that you only swipe right on lean, lithesome brunettes with dark eyes who could pass for his relatives?”
I shrugged and avoided answering by taking a gulp from my beer.
“Exactly. You're hopeless. You guys were always close. Half the school already thought you two were an item even before you got caught locking lips.” Josh shifted closer to avoid the smoke from the grill. “Just go for it. Offer to help him with the supervisor shit. Ask him out to lunch. Even if you two don't end up dating, wouldn't it be nice to have your friend back?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I flipped a burger too vigorously and broke it in half. “I really do miss him.”
“I know, man. I know.” He squeezed my shoulder and then shoved me out of the way. “Now it's time to do something about it. Stop ruining dinner.”
I gladly ceded control of the tongs and stepped out of the way. The clamor of hungry men grew louder as I worked on grabbing the buns and condiments from the cooler. We were an animated bunch, but even more so when food was involved. Some things would never change. We passed items back and forth and back again in between opening another round of beers and a bunch of bags of chips until, finally, peace settled over the group as we all sat down to stuff our faces.
If I thought distracting them with food and drinks would work, I was sorely mistaken. If anything, I’d turned myself into a captive audience since the venue of our gathering was my damn backyard. I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to. The consensus was the same, each of my friends adding their own spin on it—I had to grow a pair and talk to Elijah. Everyone agreed the campaign for Town Supervisor was the ideal excuse to get him one-on-one, prove myself a changed man, and shoot my shot. I was scared shitless over the prospect.
With the sun setting and the evening winding down, we all switched to bottled water and soda. Except me. I didn't have to drive anywhere, after all. The quieter conversation, with baby Grayson sprawled on my chest and softly snoring, was a balm for my morose mood. Good food, good friends, a gorgeous evening, and lots of laughs were exactly what I had needed to drag myself out of my pity party. EJ’s name on the ballot was the talk of the town and thus, the topic of most of our conversation as the evening wore on. The personal spin my decade’s worth of regret and pining added to the mix made for some very interesting talking points. At one point, Benji was convinced we were getting married at the ballot box. No one had the heart to deny him his newfound obsession with suits, so we rested on redirecting the conversation every time he insisted he was right.
A clatter, bang, and the subsequent shrill cry of the smoke detector from the side of the house where I resided had us all shooting out of our seats in a flash. My quick movements startled poor Grayson awake, adding another layer of noise to the pandemonium as I gently handed the bawling baby to his father before taking off at a sprint. My friends were hot on my heels as I shoved the sliding door open with a grunt and dove into my apartment. A heavy cloud of smoke filled the air, so thick I could barely see, even after flicking the light switch on. An ominous orange glow from the kitchenette sent me into emergency mode. Thank God for my Academy training—I could keep a level head, even when the emergency involved my own home and family.
“Dad, call out!”
“I’m fi—” A fit of coughing interrupted his reply.
With my t-shirt pulled over my nose, I crouched down and moved forward. My grappling hand connected with fabric and a warm body. Once I had a good grip, I hauled my father away from the source of the fire and shoved him toward the waiting hands of Cam and Dennis. Working purely on muscle memory, I dug the fire extinguisher from under the sink, pulled the pin, and promptly doused the entire stove. Hissing, popping, and sizzling erupted over the sound of the extinguisher, but mercifully, the flames went out. A firm hand slapped against my back and I was jerked backward so fast, I nearly stumbled over my own feet. Outside and coughing up a fit, I blinked my eyes until Benji’s face came into focus.
“Yeah, he good!” He pulled me into a hug with a relieved sigh. “Dude, stop with the heroics. I almost shit a kitten.”
I clapped his back with one hand, still clinging to the extinguisher with a death grip in my adrenaline-fueled focus. “I’m good, Benj. Fire’s out. Dad?”
“He’s safe. No injuries. Pissed about his popcorn, though.”
“Wait… popcorn?” My eyes darted to the bodies crowding around my clearly irate father. My father, who wasn’t wearing a single stitch of clothing except for tight white briefs, socks, and a pair of Crocs. Without thinking, I strode toward him with anger rising to replace my fear. “Dad!”
“Wha’?!”
“What were you doing?” I pitched the extinguisher to the ground with a growl.
“Making popcorn. Oven’s busted.”
“Dad, it’s microwaveable!”
Cameron placed a hand on my chest and eased me backward a step. “Will, hey. Look at me.”
The glower aimed at my father turned to aim at Cam’s concerned face. “What?!”
“Take it easy, man. Rash actions have long-term consequences.” He eyed me with a somber expression. “I know you’re mad and scared, but he’s okay. You’re okay. Breathe, bud.”
Begrudgingly, I did as he instructed. Once, twice, three times before physically turning away to get some much-needed space. Cam was right—I was so fucking mad, but more than that, I was terrified. If I hadn’t been here, the whole situation could have been ten times worse. It was a flimsy miracle that didn’t do much to reassure me.
Sirens, with their piercing shrill warble, crept closer and closer until the pulsing strobe of the emergency lights threw the house into silhouette. With one last glance toward my father, I trudged through the side yard to meet the firefighters out front. The last thing my poor apartment needed was a good dousing with a fire hose. I didn’t even know how much damage I was already dealing with, but I definitely didn’t need water damage on top of it. Suddenly, all my little problems and my pathetic pity party ranked really low on the list of shit I had to deal with. I sighed as I slipped into professional mode to report the incident to the men tumbling out of the fire truck. It was going to be a long night. Tomorrow would be even longer. Even if Elijah gave me the time of day, my life wasn’t made out for relationships. Not when shit like this was becoming an uncomfortably regular occurrence.