14. Cameron
CAMERON
The van rolled in around five p.m. One by one, the guys filed out of the vehicle, being met by each of their loving partners.
Cameron stood back, watching as Ace, Gavin, and Lucas each greeted their men with varying degrees of affection.
Lucas jumped into Caden’s arms, grinding up against his man as if he were trying to get impregnated right there in front of them all.
Ace pulled Blade into his mouth, turning his back to his brother as if that made him and his husband somehow invisible to his brother’s murderous gaze.
Gavin sidled up to Marcus, chuckling at the way his man was trying to ignore the sight of his stepbrother being mauled by a very horny Blade. Taking pity on him, Gavin cupped Marcus's cheek and drew him into a long, leisurely kiss, giving him something far more pleasant to focus on.
Cameron was impressed. Marcus remained calm and collected, showing his man that he missed him without turning his bar’s parking lot into the set of the next raunchy porn flick.
Lastly, Basher emerged from the van, his left eyebrow raised at the sight of the yard full of people making out with each other.
He walked over to where Cameron was standing awkwardly, then turned to face the crew around them.
“Did someone feed them oysters or something?” Basher asked, scrunching his nose up at his traveling companions and their horny partners.
“Nah, I think it’s sweet,” Cameron defended, smiling at his friends as they all appeared happy to see one another.
“It’s all sweet until the first one gets pregnant. Then it’s all screaming babies and diapers, and no more sex for anyone,” Basher grumbled.
“Hey, I have a daughter, and I still destroy this boy’s hole at least five times a week,” Caden argued, pulling his lips away from Lucas long enough to set Basher straight.
“And how many times a week did you fuck before you had your daughter?” Basher asked, giving the man a crooked smirk.
Caden stared at him with a guilty look on his face. “Yeah, but back then I was also in my early twenties. My cock was set to permanently hard.”
Lucas chuckled in his man’s arms. “Don’t worry, babe, you fuck me plenty.”
“Speaking of fucking.” Blade grabbed Ace and threw him over his shoulder, giving the man a smack on his butt.
Marcus rolled his eyes as he watched his brother-in-law walk off with his younger brother. “I really wish I could shoot that man in the face sometimes. Will you be my witness and tell the cops that he shot his own nose off by accident?” he asked his boyfriend, Gavin.
Gavin chuckled. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get you inside, and you can tell me all about your boys’ trip.”
Puppy was bouncing up and down along Marcus’s leg, eagerly trying to get his daddy’s attention.
Marcus scooped up their dog and visibly settled. He threw his arm around his man’s shoulders and led them inside.
The rest of the guys followed.
“So? Boys’ trip? Did you have fun?” Cameron asked, nudging Basher in the ribs with his elbow.
Basher growled. “I’m going to have nightmares of Blade’s chewing and Caden’s snoring for the next few days.”
“Oh, you didn’t get your own rooms?”
“Marcus did. He threatened to murder anyone who followed him into his room. So Caden and I decided to share, and Blade decided to follow us into our room for a few drinks, then ended up passed out in the chair with a bottle of whiskey between his legs.” Basher looked around to make sure that no one was listening before looking back at Cameron.
“I think that boy might have something wrong with him upstairs. Did you know that his best friends are knives?”
Cameron nodded with a smile on his face. “Daggers, actually. I’m surprised he hasn’t named them.”
Basher thought about Arlene. Did that make him weird as well? He did feel a strange connection to the cold, aluminum object.
Holding the back door to the bar open for Cameron, Basher followed him inside. The rest of the guys had disappeared to God knows where.
“So, what about you? What are you up to?” Basher asked, leaning against the large table set up in the back room of the bar.
“Actually, I’m heading out in a few. Got some things I need to get done.”
“Oh, right. It’s Wednesday night,” Basher noted, nodding his head.
“Umm… yeah?”
Did Basher know about his secret visits with his mom? He never told anyone about his mother or their weekly routines.
Basher’s cheeks suddenly blushed, and he quickly looked away.
Something strange was going on.
But either way, if he wanted to make it to the grocery store and then to his mother’s place on time, he needed to get moving.
“Okay… well, I’m going to head out. I’m glad you’re back safe and sound,” Cameron said, giving Basher a squeeze on the arm as he slipped past him to go grab his stuff.
After picking up some groceries, Cameron headed over to the assisted living home to see his mother and make her a home-cooked meal.
Cameron had arranged with the facility that twice a week, he and his mother would have access to the kitchen to cook their meal together after everyone else had finished their dinner.
The staff didn’t mind. As long as they cleaned up after themselves, the staff was pretty flexible in accommodating their requests.
Cameron’s mother had Alzheimer’s. It started about two years ago and steadily worsened over the years.
She had her good days and her bad days. Since it was just Cameron around, he needed help taking care of his mother. Six months ago, he decided to place her in a home that could provide him with that assistance.
It was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make. After the last time she walked off while he was at work, it took him twelve hours to finally find her at an abandoned bus stop, just sitting there, waiting for a bus to take her to the job she no longer held.
After that terrifying experience, he decided he could no longer care for her on his own and made arrangements for her to move into the assisted care facility where she was currently living.
He hated seeing her there. Most of the other residents were retired and in their late seventies and eighties—a good twenty to thirty years older than she was. But what could he do?
At least at this facility, there were people around her twenty-four seven, always watching out for her and ready to help if she ever needed it.
That sort of security also came with a hefty price tag.
That was one of the primary reasons he had moved to Baton, New Mexico. Living expenses in Baton were not as high as living in the city. And he was lucky. Marcus paid him double what he would normally make as a bartender, plus he supplemented his income by selling his body online.
He wasn’t ashamed of making sex videos. He had a great body and wasn’t afraid to show it off. And hey, if it earned him a few extra bucks, who was he to complain?
Times were tough, and people needed to do what they could to survive.
“Hey, Mom, how are you doing today?” Cameron asked, walking into his mother’s room and dropping the groceries onto her bed.
His mother turned, and her face lit up when she saw him.
That was a good sign. Sometimes he’d walk into her room, and she wouldn’t recognize him, thinking he was still ten and asking when her shift at the restaurant started.
“Hey, Cammy! How’s my favorite son?” she asked, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into the biggest hug. “Oh, you’re getting so big and strong.”
Cameron chuckled. His mother always made the same comment, even though she had seen him just two days earlier.
He tried to visit when he could. Monday and Wednesday for sure, but he would also try to squeeze in another visit or two when he wasn’t busy working at the bar or getting something done for Marcus.
“So, are you ready to cook some dinner?” he asked, grabbing the bag of groceries off the bed and taking her hand in his.
His mother’s face lit up just as it had when he was a child, when the two of them spent Monday nights cooking together.
As they walked toward the kitchen, his mother began telling him about her day.
He loved this part of his visits. It felt just like it had when he was a young boy, except this time, instead of his mother cooking for him, he was cooking for her.
“Do you want to chop the veggies?” Cameron asked, pulling out a pan to begin cooking the chicken.
His mother nodded.
They spent the next two hours cooking dinner, then enjoying their meal while chatting in an almost empty dining hall.
As he handed his mother a slice of coconut pie, the joy on his face began to slip away.
His mother’s movements began to slow as her mind slowly pulled away. He saw the look of confusion cross her face as she began to question where she was and who the young man sitting across from her was.
“It’s me, Mama,” Cameron said softly, reaching across the table and gently taking her hand.
When dealing with someone with Alzheimer’s, it was important not to make them feel bad for forgetting things or to shame them for asking so many questions.
He could only imagine how scary it must be for the person to suddenly be surrounded by people and places they weren’t familiar with.
One thing doctors emphasized was the importance of familiarity—keeping the person surrounded by known spaces and cherished objects—to ground them when they began to feel untethered.
Unfortunately, he had to leave his childhood home, but he managed to take several of his mom's treasured belongings, including a family photo of him and his mother on a roller coaster at a theme park when he was a child.
“It’s your son, Cammy.”
His mother stared at him with questioning eyes.
“No. No, you’re not. My Cammy is ten years old. And he’ll be coming home from school soon.” His mother stood up. “I… I need to go and make him his snack. He’s going to be hungry when he gets home.”
His mother stood with the determination of a mother ready to tend to her cub.
Cameron stood and followed her.
“Why don’t we see what snacks you have in your room, Mom? See what sort of things Cammy might like to eat.”
His mother nodded, taking his hand and leading him toward her room.
“You’re going to love meeting my little Cammy. He is so smart and never stops talking. He loves to meet new people, and oh! He tells the funniest jokes.”
It broke Cameron’s heart to hear his mother speak that way—gushing over the son she had raised, not realizing he was the one holding her hand at that very moment.
When they got to her room, Cameron turned on her television and helped his mother into her nightgown.
When she entered states like these, it was always better to try to distract her, making her as comfortable as possible while ensuring she was in a safe environment.
“How about we watch some TV until your son gets home?” Cameron asked, helping his mother into bed.
“Oh, that sounds lovely. Is Wheel of Fortune on? I always love guessing those puzzles.”
“Me too,” Cameron agreed, snuggling into the bed next to his mother. He gently kissed her head, then began watching TV with her.
An hour later, his mother was fast asleep, and Cameron was slipping out of her room without making a sound.
As he walked toward the bus stop, he couldn’t help the ache in his chest.
His mother was his world. On days when she didn’t recognize him, he felt like he had been erased from existence, as if somehow, he no longer belonged.
Memories were what kept people tethered to those around them. It was those shared experiences and moments that made people friends and family.
But what happens when you are the only one who remembers?
Looking around at the dark, empty street, he suddenly felt all alone. His mother was his last living relative. If she forgot all about him, it would be as though he never existed.
That thought right there was suddenly heartbreaking.
He didn’t want to go home and feel even more alone.
Pulling change from his pocket, he walked to the bus stop, then hopped on the bus when it finally arrived.