Chapter 5
Chapter Five
The cold Jasper had developed a few days earlier had finally won, forcing him to hide out under a thick blanket in his bedroom while Stevie puttered around the house he’d let fall to pieces without the threat of the tidier Ryan showing up.
His eyes had drifted shut and he was nearly asleep when he heard a familiar sound, eyelids creeping open against attempts to keep them closed.
The house Jasper and Ryan lived in—that now only Jasper lived in—was at the end of a long driveway.
The crunch of tires on the gravel and dirt driveway was common enough, since Jasper had people over frequently and ordered food delivery more than he should.
But this was not a random set of tires. They were familiar tires.
Tires he’d waited up hoping to hear for years, but that now just made him irritable and sad.
Sighing, he pulled the covers over his head to hide.
He’d suspected Ryan would come by at some point.
Jasper couldn’t deny he was a good caretaker when he wanted to be.
Each fall, when Jasper got sick, Ryan always managed to get time off work.
He’d fluff pillows and bring medication and make stock from store-bought chickens—because despite Ryan’s thoughts on factory farmed meats, he couldn’t eat his pets—before turning it into soup when Jasper finally gave himself over to the illness.
It had been a week since they’d really spoken, though Ryan sent a daily text to check in.
Jasper usually sent a quick response, often regretting it because of the mixed messages it sent.
Strangely, Ryan hadn’t sent anything today.
Jasper was annoyed that he’d noticed—and that he cared, since he’d been the one who asked for space.
As much as his body was telling him to jump out of bed and greet Ryan at the door, Jasper knew he couldn’t do that.
They still needed space from each other if there was any hope of them getting along in the future, and for Jasper, that was non-negotiable.
As long as their sisters were friends and their nieces were cousins, he and Ryan were family.
That’s why he yelled to Stevie to turn Ryan away and to not let him in, because despite how cruel it might feel, Ryan was incredibly charming, and he’d figure out what to say to get Stevie to let him stay past his welcome.
Jasper just needed more time for things to settle. He was still waffling between frustration, hurt, anger, and longing, and until things stabilized, he couldn’t be around him.
Stevie had ignored his demands, of course. Reminded him that she wasn’t the one breaking up with Ryan, and that she was allowed to stay friends with him. But she agreed to let him know he couldn’t stay long.
After Ryan’s soft knock at the front door, Stevie moved to open it. Jasper’s bedroom door was open, and he wanted to get up to eavesdrop, but he was too tired. He settled for shifting down in his bed, straining his neck to hear what was going on.
“Hi,” Ryan said, his voice trailing down the hallway.
“Hey, Ryan. Come on in. Want something to drink?”
“No, that’s okay. I just wanted to, um…” Ryan’s voice trailed off. He mumbled something Jasper couldn’t quite hear.
“I’ve been given strict instructions to not allow that,” Stevie said.
“Nah, I think it’d be fine. You look really good, Steve-o. Did you change your hair?”
Stevie laughed. “I know what you’re doing.”
Jasper huffed under his blanket. See?
Her tone changed, and Jasper heard her say something ending on, “I’m sorry.”
“No, that’s okay. Would you make sure he gets this though? I saw what you were trying to pass off as soup.”
Stevie chuckled. “Yeah, yeah.”
“And could you make sure he eats it, even if he’s mad at me? I didn’t poison it or anything.” Ryan laughed sadly. “It should be good, though I didn’t roast the bones for as long as usual. I wanted to make sure I brought it over before dinnertime.”
“Of course.”
There was a bit of commotion and then the familiar sound of Ryan taking a seat at the kitchen island.
“What’s this?” Ryan asked. Jasper’s ears perked up immediately at Ryan’s tone of curiosity.
“Oh, it’s a list of things that need to be fixed up at the park. Jasper and I have been discussing hiring a contractor to help. That guy on top is someone Jasper spoke to, a jack-of-all-trades type.”
“A jack-of-all-trades is going to fix the park?” Ryan huffed out a laugh—sardonic and acidic.
Jasper rolled his eyes in response to Ryan’s arrogance, but winced immediately, the pressure in his sinuses making any movement of his eyes painful.
“I guess so,” Stevie said.
“Let me take this. I’ll deal with it.”
“No,” Stevie protested. “I was given strict instructions to not allow that, either.”
“What are you talking about? What does Jasper know about this stuff? Let me have that. I’ll look it over and let you guys know what I think.”
Jasper scoffed quietly, in his room. He knew stuff. And even if he didn’t, he didn’t want Ryan’s help.
“He feels really strongly about this, Ry. I don’t understand it any more than you do, but that’s what he wants to do.”
“This is ridiculous.”
After alternating, mumbled voices Jasper couldn’t understand, there was a stretch of silence—or maybe whispers out of earshot—before Ryan spoke again.
“Fine. Whatever. I’m going to stop by and see the girls.” He always referred to the flock as the girls. “The hens, I mean.”
“I know who the girls are,” Stevie said. “Have a good night, Ryan. I’m sorry about everything. Thanks for the soup.”
Ryan’s shoes thumped across the deck before Jasper braved a look out the bedroom window and spotted him crouched by the chicken run.
He had a bag of fruit scraps in his hand and tossed them in through the wire, smiling when they pecked at frozen watermelon rinds—their favorite.
His smile only lasted about five seconds before he waved at the hens and made his way back to the car, sitting there with his head leaning against the window as he scrolled through his phone.
Jasper wished Ryan would turn his head just a few degrees so he could get a look at his face.
Not for any real reason, just a sick man seeking familiarity on a difficult day.
He wasn’t even sure why today was extra hard—he had a cold.
People got colds. Jasper got this same basic cold every year, so he should have been used to it.
But he wasn’t.
Maybe it was because Stevie’s soup was gross and watery and not made with a chicken carcass someone had carefully hidden from view of his flock.
Or maybe it was because she didn’t come in and rearrange pillows to prop Jasper’s limbs up at alternating heights as the day went on like Ryan did after learning about it from his physical therapist. He didn’t even know if it did anything, but it felt good.
Or maybe it was just because he felt like shit and couldn’t even eat because everything tasted like trash.
Food hadn’t been top of mind for Jasper over the last couple of days.
His stomach was rumbling, so after wrapping himself in a flannel sheet, he made his way to the kitchen.
An empty pot on the counter was an easy lift, so he filled it with water, slowly, giving himself time to stare through the sheer curtains at Ryan, who was still sitting in his car.
Eventually, Jasper found his forehead resting against the window, partly from weakness, partly to get just a few inches closer. Something eerily close to regret crept through his limbs as he watched Ryan turn his car around and drive away, disappearing around the bend.
“Got that okay?” Stevie asked. “I can help if you need to go back to bed.”
Jasper twisted his head around quickly, pretending he wasn’t staring longingly at the husband he’d left weeks ago, wincing at the sharp pinch of his neck. “Ow.”
“Go back to bed.”
“I’m okay. Almost done here.”
His arm shook as he lifted the pot out of the sink. His other hand moved to steady the handle, which sent the sheet draped over his shoulders billowing to the ground around his feet. The assault of the chilly room air made him shiver, and the pot followed suit, splashing water over the edges.
“Okay. That’s enough,” Stevie said, placing the half-empty pot on the counter and wrapping the sheet around Jasper’s shoulders again. “Go back to your room. I will bring you soup shortly.”
“Yeah, okay. Can you, um…”
“What?”
“Can you use the egg noodles? The wide ones? And Ryan used to slice up little shiitake mushrooms and throw them in while the broth heated. Same with celery, because I like it kind of crunchy. And he shredded the chicken bits, too. He just used two forks to do it, and it was really easy. At least, it looked easy…”
“Do you have any of those ingredients?”
Jasper frowned. “I don’t know.”
“I saw white button mushrooms, I think… I can check to see if they’re still good.”
“Okay.”
“Go to bed. I’ll be in soon.”
Fifteen minutes later, Stevie pushed the door open. The tray she carried held something that smelled promising—like health and home and Ryan. When she set it on his lap, he did his best to look appreciative.
“Thank you, Stevie. I do appreciate you taking care of me, even if I am annoying.”
“I know it sucks to be sick when you’re alone. You’ll be fine in a week.”
Jasper nodded and moved his spoon around in the soup. “Yeah, totally.”
“And I know I’m not Ryan, but hopefully I did an okay job. Try it.”
Jasper took a sip of the broth and bit his lip. It was so perfect, so comforting and soothing to his soul that he could almost look beyond the undercooked egg noodle, the brownish button mushroom, the leafy ends of the celery, and the horrifying lunch meat Stevie had sliced and thrown into the pot.
“It’s great.”