Chapter Five
James
I finished changing the oil and filters in an older Chevy and grabbed a clean shop towel to wipe off my hands as Marty walked into the back.
“You still haven’t gone to lunch yet, JR?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m actually taking off early today, so I skipped it. Wanted to get these two oil changes that came in this morning finished before I dipped.”
“You’re a beast, bro.”
I shrugged, my shoulders and back stiff from having been under cars for the past couple hours. “You know where my brother ran off to?”
“He said he was going to the bank, I think.”
“Cool, when he gets back would you just tell him I’ll catch him tonight at home?”
I took a piss and scrubbed my greasy hands and arms in the bathroom sink with gritty shop soap before pulling a clean shirt over my head and splashing some cool water on my face. After stepping into a fresh pair of jeans, I stuffed my dirty jumpsuit into the hamper just outside the bathroom door.
It took much less time to drive to June’s than it had taken on the subway.
I was hoping to be there towards the end of Avery’s shift.
I had convinced myself that I had enough courage to properly introduce myself this time and tell him who I was.
I wasn’t going to bitch out like last time.
Hopefully, if all went well, he would let me take him somewhere after he’d finished working.
Like a date. My first date.
The place was packed when I walked in. It was much busier than the last two times I had been there.
I had come to see Avery again the day before yesterday, but he wasn’t working.
So I just ordered a club sandwich and went about my way.
I did manage to get logged into my old Facebook account, but there was no one on it that I gave a shit about.
I tried to look up Avery, but I couldn’t find him.
The counter was full, so I found my way over to one of the few empty booths along the side of the restaurant.
There were two servers at different tables, but I couldn’t see Avery anywhere.
I hoped he didn’t have split days off, or something silly like that.
The air was scented with bacon grease and the sweetness of maple syrup, and the noise of the customers was a dim, indistinct roar just under my notice.
I hadn’t eaten, and my stomach was rumbling, but my brain was laser-focused.
I wasn’t at June’s for food; not really.
There was something that I wanted much more than pancakes, and I was praying he put in an appearance.
Shortly after I sat down in the booth, Avery appeared from the swinging kitchen door.
God, if he wasn’t the most gorgeous thing in the room.
He was wearing a yellow knit beanie with some of his hair peeking out at the nape of his neck.
He wore skinny blue jeans underneath his tie-on apron that disappeared into classic red and white high-tops.
He wore a red and white three-quarter sleeve baseball-style shirt.
He looked good in red. It brought out the gold in his eyes.
I must have done something to curry favor with the universe because Avery spotted me and smiled.
He grabbed a menu off the counter and walked right over to my table.
I was nervous I had sat in one of the other server’s sections and I wouldn’t get to talk to Avery at all, but my fears were dispelled.
“Welcome back.” Avery greeted me with a friendly smile.
“Thanks. I like it here,” I replied stupidly, as if this mediocre and very dated diner was Disneyland or something. (Although, there was definitely an attraction here that I wanted to ride.)
Avery laughed. “Well, if you want to get the full experience, I think we’re hiring.”
“Would I get to see your adorable face every day?”
Avery’s eyes widened, and a deep blush spread down his neck as he quickly looked away.
I can’t believe I said that.
“Sorry,” I stammered. “That was maybe inappropriate.”
Avery looked back. “It’s okay.” He smiled, but didn’t meet my eye. “Coffee?”
“Actually, if I could have a soda, that would be great.”
“Coke?”
I nodded, and Avery turned and walked away.
“Wanna take it easy, lover boy?” I chastised myself quietly. “Don’t make him think you are some kind of creep.”
I was better prepared for Avery’s return and had my lunch order on the tip of my tongue—a patty melt with fries, add a tomato slice.
The diner was extremely busy, and I didn’t want to give him any trouble by monopolizing his time when other people were depending on him.
I really wanted us to have a chance to talk, though.
I decided I would just eat really slowly in hopes the place would die down enough to get a chance to catch his attention. He blushed when I called him pretty… or did I say adorable? Either way, that had to be a good sign, right?
I’d sit here till closing if I had to.
It took about 15 minutes for him to bring out my lunch. He briskly asked if I needed anything else and then was on his way back to the kitchen. I hoped he was just really busy, and I hadn’t weirded him out with my comment.
I’m apparently bad at flirting. Note taken.
In fairness to myself, it’s not as if I ever had any real practice.
I wasn’t even out before I went to prison.
And I certainly wasn't flirting with anyone in prison, nor announcing my sexuality in any way whatsoever. There were very few people bigger than me, so I doubt it would have been an issue, but the last thing I wanted was to catch extra time for fighting. My philosophy was to keep my head low and my business private. A good strategy for prison, but I’d not really had any opportunity to hone my social skills.
Especially not when it came to cute-as-a-bug waiters.
The patty melt was okay, but kind of greasy.
I finished it, but decided to stick with a regular burger in the future.
I was trailing my last fry through a blob of ketchup when I noticed that the diner had, in fact, slowed down a bit.
Some of the tables had cleared out, and, with fewer voices echoing around the space, I was actually able to hear the radio playing softly in the background.
“Sorry it’s been a little crazy today. I hope you’re not late getting back to work or anything,” Avery said as he laid the bill face down on the edge of the table.
I smiled. “Not at all. I was actually finished for the day.”
“You work early in the morning?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I work at Grady’s Garage on 14th. It’s always a rush in the mornings to get the carry-overs from the day before all finished up.”
“You’re a mechanic?”
“Yup.”
“I’ve been needing an oil change for a while. Maybe I should bring my car in.”
I perked up. "Absolutely. I’d be happy to take care of it for you. When do you want to bring it by?”
Avery thought about it for a moment. “I’m working the later shift all week. I probably don’t even get off before you close.”
“What time do you get off?”
“Six.”
“I can meet you at the shop around 6:30.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you to have to work late.”
“I don’t mind. Seriously.”
Avery seemed to consider it. “Could we do it tomorrow after work? Tonight will be difficult, but I’m open tomorrow night.”
I smiled. “I’ll see ya then.”
Avery turned to walk away and then stopped. “I’m Avery, by the way.”
I tried not to beam too hard. “JR. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Avery.”
And I meant it.
***
The thoughts in my head were a whirling fury of incoherent flashes as I tried to get some sort of clue about how this was going to go, and I was running out of time.
I sat in the back seat of Jack and Jenna’s SUV next to the car seat securing my niece.
Jack was driving, and Jenna was scrolling on her phone.
Beside me, Lindsey fixed an intent stare on her iPad and kicked her little feet.
Each jolt of the car bumping the road turned my stomach.
We’d been driving for a good 20 minutes, and I was no closer to figuring out what to say to my mother when we got to her house.
She must not have wanted anything to do with me. There was, as far as I could see things, no other possible justification for not having sent one single letter or coming down to the prison to visit me even once in all the years I was locked up.
I went from having a loving family and a good support system one day, to being completely thrown away the next. People make mistakes, and I was just a fucking kid. I was so angry with my parents and how they handled everything.
What is there to say?
“Sorry I was in prison when Dad died and had to miss the funeral. Oh, yeah, and don’t worry about not having bothered to even let me know.”
Jack casually mentioned it in one of his letters three months after Dad’s passing as if I had already known.
Like it was old news. After I found out, I thought for sure Mom would come and visit me.
I don’t know why. Maybe it was a stupid fantasy.
She never bothered to show up before he died; neither one of them did.
When I went to prison it was like I died.
When I was growing up, we were a close-knit family.
I disagreed with some of my parents’ opinions, but, for the most part, we all got along.
I had a very normal upbringing, and if anyone had ever asked me, I would have said we were a very happy family.
Christmases were magical, and filled with presents and good holiday cheer.
Mom and Dad always made sure Jack and my birthdays were special.
Us kids felt loved, appreciated, and supported.
There was never a single moment in my entire young life that I believed there was anything I could do to ever make my parents stop loving me.
I was wrong.