Chapter 5 – James
Chapter Five
JAMES
Unfortunately, what there hadn’t been time for later was any sort of conversation about his mom’s upcoming move.
Or…maybe that was fortunate? It was hard to tell.
Leon had made good on his promise and gone down on his knees for James before they’d cuddled so hard James had fallen asleep until dinner.
Hailey had chosen a pop-up ramen store filled to the brim with anime figurines, posters, and collectibles.
The food was really good, and the decor kept Trina and Leon chatting the whole time.
Leon had watched a fair amount of anime while taking night classes and working at the grocery store, claiming it was the only thing on TV that late at night, but James was pretty sure he just liked the fast-paced storylines and action.
James had dabbled in a few series over the years, but he tended to lean towards romance and slice of life.
Hailey swore she’d never seen a single anime, but when Trina mentioned Sailor Moon, she had practically levitated out of her seat with excitement. By the time they returned home, James was ready to be back in Leon’s arms in bed, and the time for talking about hard things had passed.
He did his best to explain this to his mother as he followed her up the rickety ladder to the attic.
“I told you already, dear, there’s no rush. Clearly, you’re not ready to talk about it yet, so don’t.”
James skirted around the edge of the attic, avoiding some of the more rickety-looking boards, while his mother shuffled across the middle of the space, somehow effortlessly avoiding the warped and splitting boards like she had a map in her head.
Which, knowing his mother, she probably did.
“But there is a rush. I know you all want to move in September, which means starting to pack in the next few weeks. Leon is going to know something’s up, and I don’t want him to find out by accident…or get the wrong idea.”
Like that James was leaving without a word, just like his useless dad.
His mom gave him a far-too-knowing look but didn’t comment. Instead, she began opening box lids, peering into them one at a time.
“What holiday are we decorating for again?” James asked, dodging around a precariously stacked pile of seasonal doormats. “We don’t usually decorate for Labor Day…the only other thing I can think of is back-to-school, which we don’t really have much for either.”
He couldn’t imagine how Leon would handle back-to-school decorations.
One look at a backpack garland or a crayon wreath would probably have him running for the hills.
He’d seen the way he looked at Hailey over dinner.
It was rather similar to how James used to look at his mom.
Like he wasn’t sure if he was seeing her for the last time.
“I’m afraid there won’t be any more decorating,” his mom said.
That barbed wire ball shot up into James’ throat. “What? Why not? Do Howard and Linda not like it? That doesn't seem fair. It’s so important to—”
“James,” his mom interrupted, a warped box lid in one hand and a stuffed rabbit in the other.
“I meant there won’t be any more decorating at this house.
I need to take stock of everything I have and figure out what I’m bringing to the new place.
The attic isn’t anywhere near as big, so I won’t be able to take everything, but I plan to take a few things for every holiday. ”
That ball was lodged so far up James’ windpipe he could barely breathe.
There would be no more decorating here, at the house they’d shared for over thirty years.
His mom, with all her love and sparkle and over-the-top decorations, was moving on to bigger and quite possibly better things.
She wouldn’t have to live here, surrounded by all the memories of her ex-husband, or the long, hard years spent fighting cancer.
Just that morning, James had gotten home from Leon’s and found a box of medical supplies by the door, with “Donate” scrawled across the side.
This was a good thing. Just like Hailey going off to college was a good thing.
He was happy for Hailey, truly he was. How much of a hypocrite would he be if he wasn’t able to be happy for his own mom?
They were touring the retirement community later that week, and they were going out to Howard’s place the following weekend to help with some tasks around the house.
Linda had devised a whole schedule for them, making sure to have Option A for September and Option B for December.
She might as well have called it Option B for Bad Son because that’s what James would be if he stomped his foot and pouted, demanding his mom wait longer for him to get himself together.
Clearly, if his mom was already planning not to decorate for Halloween, her favorite holiday, that meant she was probably counting on moving out in September.
So, that was that then. There was a plan, and all James had to do was act on it.
While he wouldn’t have chosen “inventory the holiday decorations” as the first thing to get done, at least it was a start…
unlike what James had with Leon. He had less than no idea how to start talking to Leon about the move.
Last night, he had told James not once, not twice, but three times how glad he was that James was home and they could get back to their usual routine.
How was James supposed to blow up that routine, and expect Leon to be happy about it?
And if he wasn’t happy about James moving in, then he probably shouldn’t do it, right?
He could find a rental in the meantime, and they could just go on how they had been, with Leon slowly sinking farther and farther in on himself while James floundered about like he was the same, lost, ten-year-old kid who had made the lopsided paper wreath he was currently holding.
For a long time, the wreath hung on the door to the downstairs bathroom, but one day, right before his dad left them for good, it fell off its hanger, and his dad trampled it, as unaware and uncaring as always of the impact of his actions.
His dad went to throw it away, assuming they didn’t need to keep something his “kid”—he was never able to call James his son—had made, but his mom rescued it from the trash, fixing the tears and smoothing the wrinkles as best she could.
It had hung there long after his dad eventually moved out, but somehow, in the past few years, it had made its way up here.
If James squinted, he could still see where his mom had glued two of the leaves together to keep them from bowing forward and reinforced the loop that held it on the hook.
That had been their entire relationship, really. James kept trying to build them a life together while his mom smoothed out the edges, repaired what had been damaged, and fortified him so he could hang on through the tough times.
Something touched James’ arm, and he nearly jumped out of his skin until he realized it was his mom’s soft, familiar hand. Her skin was a little dry, but nowadays her grip was firm and steady.
“James, it’s just us now. Talk to me.”
James ran his hand through his hair, and when that didn’t magically fix all his problems, he dropped the paper craft back in its box and scrubbed both hands down his face.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to talk in front of Howard and Linda.
I just…I don’t know what to say. I’m happy for you, and for them, but… ”
His mom squeezed his arm. “But you’re not happy for yourself?”
The afternoon sun was streaming through the small window in the corner, but as James stood there, struggling to find the right words, a cloud passed in front of the sun, casting the room in shadow.
“I think living with Leon is the logical next step,” James said, the ball still lodged in his throat, burning hot, like he’d taken a scalding gulp of tea. “And if everything goes well, it would be pretty amazing to come home to him every day and fall asleep with him every night.”
“But you’re worried it’s not going to go well?” she asked, running her hand down his arm to squeeze his fingers.
“I’m worried that he’s not ready for us to live together, and, if I ask right now, when he’s feeling so…” James searched for the word, but his mom beat him to it.
“Unsettled?”
James nodded. “I’m worried that he’ll say yes, even if he doesn’t mean it. And then I’ll move in, and he’ll be even worse than unsettled. He’ll be…”
Why was it so hard for him to find his words today?
This was why he hadn’t wanted to talk about it on the cruise.
Even when he tried to think it through in his head, he found himself stumbling over his fears for himself and his fears for Leon.
It felt like they were all tangling up, forming the knotted barbs around that stupid ball.
“Overwhelmed?” his mom offered.
James tipped his head back and forth. “Yeah…overwhelmed by the change but also overwhelmed by me and my stuff and what living with me entails. You know how forgetful I can be with certain things, like taking out the trash and unloading the dishwasher, and you and I have our own particular ways of doing things. I’m afraid he’s going to be…
” The word was so simple and yet somehow it encompassed everything James had been struggling to say.
“Unhappy. With me, and us, and our home, and then…I’ll be alone.
There won’t be you, or dad, or Leon, or Yarmen.
It’ll just be me, myself, and I, and I’ve never been alone before, and while I know people live alone, and it’s totally fine for them—I mean, look at Howard and Linda.
They’ve been living and thriving alone for years, but… ”
James’ words caught in his throat, lodged there like the knotted-up Christmas lights they would need to sort through. His mom didn’t seem to be in any rush to do so, though. She just stood there, her eyes shimmering in the muted light, as James stuttered and stumbled his way through this.