Jason
I’m sitting on a lawn chair outside the trailer, pressing ice wrapped in a towel against my head.
My balls hurt like hell, and I deserve it.
Gabe’s been gone for hours, giving me time to sober up enough and realize I took it too far.
Guilt claws at my gut—
Trying to make him talk was beyond fucked up.
That was a Doug move—manipulate to get what you want. Punish if it doesn’t work.
Maybe I am garbage.
A sound I recognize from my youth turns my gaze toward Doug’s trailer to find Linda stepping out with two plates in her hands.
Fuck me.
She strides across the gravel, happy as a clam, then stops dead in her tracks when she sees me. I can’t imagine what I look like. I’m shirtless, slouched on a lawn chair covered in bruises, pressing ice to my eye…
She carefully steps toward me with a wary look on her face.
“How’s it hanging, stepmom?” I yell, lowering my hand to reveal the insane black eye I’m sporting.
I’ve been socked in the eye, what, seventy-three times since I got here?
Needless to say, it’s a shade of black that’s never been recorded in human history.
My greeting makes Linda shudder. She takes a deep breath and steps closer, stopping right in front of me.
“Jesus. Did you two get in another fight?” She sweeps her hand over my battered body. “These look…fresh.”
I tilt my head to crack my neck. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Where’s Gabe?” She asks.
“He ran out. He doesn’t look half as bad as I do, so don’t worry too much.”
Linda looks so sad, but all I can think about is the delicious-smelling food she has in her hands.
“Is that for us?” I ask.
She startles, looking at the plates of food in her hands like they magically appeared. “Uh, yeah. I wanted to feed you and Gabe.”
“I’ll get the door for you.”
Hey, I ain’t about to pass up free food.
Plus, Linda can cook. I’ve eaten enough of her dinners to know I’m in for a treat.
“Thank you,” she says, shocked by the polite gesture.
I’m not being nice. I’m hungry.
I hold the door open and wave her inside. She sets the food on the table and turns to me with a concerned expression. “Did Gabe really do that?” she asks.
“Not all of it.” Blowjob and his buddies helped. I grab silverware from a drawer. “May I?”
“Yes, of course.”
I settle down in a chair and dig in. The beef stew hits my tongue, and I release a very satisfied groan in response.
“That was one of your favorites,” Linda remarks.
My body freezes. I’m transported back in time to when I came here for dinner much more often, when it was just her, Gabe, and me.
I never said that any one of her dishes was my favorite. I was just so happy to be away from home and eating with people who didn’t seem to hate my guts. But I always liked her stew a lot. Like…a lot, a lot.
“H-how did you know—“
“That the stew was your favorite?” she finishes. “You always made that sound when I fed you stew. It’s so satisfying when you cook a meal and hear someone appreciate it the way you do.”
I never knew she noticed. I never knew anyone paid attention to things like that.
A wave of guilt washes over me.
Am I being too harsh?
Is my anger justified?
“I hope I didn’t make you self-conscious.”
I look up and see her visibly concerned. Worried that—I don’t know—she’s ruining dinner or something?
“No,” I reply. “It’s not that.”
A moment of silence stretches for way too long. Everything feels awkward and uncomfortable.
“Is it hard being back?” Linda finally asks.
Her question throws me for a loop. It’s not hard. It’s fucking unbearable. “Yes.”
Linda inches closer and rests her hand on mine. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she assures me in a tone that I want to believe with my whole heart.
“Is he?” The question comes out before I can stop it.
“Gabe?” she asks.
“Doug,” I correct.
Linda stares at me for way too long. “I didn’t think so,” I say.
“No, I don’t want you to think that. It’s…he’s just…“
Here it comes. “What? Tell me.”
Linda looks out the window, the sunlight catching her brown eyes and turning them gold.
Just like Gabe’s.
“He’s afraid,” she finally says.
“Of me?”
She shakes her head. “Of himself.”
My eyes narrow. I grip the table to steady myself because my heart is pounding, and I don’t know why. “What do you mean?”
Linda sighs, looking at the food. “It’s just all so raw for Doug. This isn’t my story to tell, but he had a horrible relationship with your granddad. Did you know him?”
“No. I never met him.”
“See? Your dad talks about wanting to be better, but when he’s with you, something else takes over. Anger. Hurt. It’s all there, and he takes it out on you because that’s what happened to him.”
“Is that supposed to make me sympathize with him?” I ask.
“No,” she says.
“If he knows how bad it feels, why would he do it to me? Because I’d never do that to my kid. Ever.”
Linda looks down with a sad expression. “That’s because you're a stronger man than he is.”
For the first time in my life, my big mouth has nothing to say. All I can do is breathe into the queasy feeling in the pit of my gut.
The screech of the screen door grabs our attention, and Gabe walks in. Bruised and battered like me.
But not as bad as me.
Because I always go easy on Gabe.
Wow—that’s the first time I admitted that.
We stare at each other. Two guys just seething but also completely fucking lost.
“Your mom made stew,” I finally blurt out.
Linda motions to the plate. “Sit and eat, honey.”
Gabe looks at the food, then at the scene before him.
His expression softens.
I know he sees exactly what I saw in my mind’s eye. The memories of who we were to each other.
Our eyes meet once more, and I motion for him to sit.
And he does.
Linda stays because I think she can see we need a third person to ease the tension. She blabbers away, making small talk that I know she doesn’t give a shit about.
But I can see in her eyes how happy she is that we’re both sitting at the table eating together.
It’s hard to look at Gabe, but I do every once in a while.
There are no words to describe what is happening inside me. My chest aches, and my limbs itch. I want to reach across the table and grab his hand, but I’m also afraid it’ll hurt when I do.
He looks up from his food. He’s not happy, but he’s open.
I’m not angry right now. I can’t be.
This feels really good, and I just want to feel that instead of everything else that’s constantly raging inside me.
And I think Gabe does too.