Chapter 15
chapter fifteen
Present Day
We always met in the same alley right across the street from Fire and Ice.
Around noon every day, he’d leave and go who knew where.
Jack hadn’t seen him in days, so I had no idea where he went.
He told me he quit going to the subway, but where he stayed for most of the day and night was still a mystery.
I’d bring him warm food and water every time.
At first, he’d refuse whatever I gave him, but after day two, he’d given in and finally started to eat what I brought.
It just took me reminding him that he didn’t owe me, it wasn’t a handout, and he deserved at least one warm meal a day, whether he got it from me or not.
I was going to bring it—he might as well eat it.
Today, I had a steaming bowl of chicken jardinière soup straight from the kitchen, a bottle of water from the staff fridge, and something else I wasn’t sure he’d accept from me.
I’d picked up a new long-sleeved shirt and thick coat for him to wear.
His jacket was so thin, I wasn’t sure how he’d survived through the New York cold.
Maybe I was crossing a line too early, but I couldn’t handle the idea of him refusing help and suffering so much for it.
I’d rather try to have him get a little mad than not try at all if there was a chance he’d take it.
There wasn’t any snow on the ground, but the air was still frigid as I walked along the crosswalk. Tobi was in his usual spot, sitting with his back against the wall behind him. “Hey, Tobes.” I took my spot in front of him, grunting as I got situated on the ground.
“That’s a bigger bag than usual.” He nodded toward the plastic bag to my side.
“Yeah, I wanted to show you a couple of things.” I dug the soup out first, taking the top off and handing it to him with a plastic spoon.
He stared at it, watching the steam rise into the air. He leaned forward, taking a big sniff, his eyes falling shut. “Damn. I remember Price showing me how to cook this for the first time. I can’t believe y’all still have it on the menu.”
Tobi’s voice didn’t sound right. It sounded like his throat was raw and his nose was stuffy. I looked over his face, noticing how red his cheeks were. “It’s seasonal now, but it’s definitely a favorite. You feeling okay?”
“Meh.” He shrugged. “I think I’m getting a cold or somethin’. This should help, though.” His hands shook a little as he scooped up his first bite and blew on it. “What else did you want to show me?”
“Can you promise not to get mad at me?”
His eyebrows came together. “I’m not sure I can promise that, no. But I can try. I hope you didn’t do something too stupid.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” I opened the bag back up and pulled out the shirt and coat. “I found these. With how cold it’s about to get, you’re going to need them.”
“Oh, come on.” He rolled his eyes. “What don’t you get about me not wantin’ handouts, Cal?”
“Listen to yourself speak. You’re already getting sick. Christmas is only a few days away, and they’re calling for negative temps with another wave of snow on Christmas Eve night.”
He shook his head, staring at my hand like it’d burn him if I moved any closer to him. “It’s just a little cold. I’ll survive.”
I looked around for dramatic effect, straining my neck to look down each end of the alleyway. “Where? Here? Tobi, there’s no shelter here. I’ll end up finding you dead and frozen on the ground. Do you have motel money or something?”
I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he silently laughed while swallowing some soup. “No. I ain’t got no money to speak of. Wasted it all on gettin’ wasted.”
“Then take the shirt and coat.” I leaned forward slowly, showing him what I was doing so he wouldn’t get frightened, and placed them over his outstretched legs. “Is that why you haven’t gone back to Jack’s bar?”
“What?”
“You not having money.”
“Oh.” He leaned his head back, pouring the rest of the soup down into his mouth, scraping the bowl with the spoon. “That’s only part of it. I’ve overstayed my welcome there.”
“What do you mean?”
He held the bowl out to me, waiting for me to take it before sighing.
“You know what I mean. He didn’t really get the best first impression of me.
Or second impression. Or third. Actually, none of his impressions of me are that great.
Why would I bother him by comin’ into his bar and continuing to spend all day in there? ”
“You know he wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t got no money to spend there, so I might as well not spend his time.”
“He knows you, Tobi. He knows how much you mean to me, too. You don’t need to be a paying customer to warm up there. He won’t kick you out.”
The coat ruffled as he picked it up, running his hands down the fabric. “He’s tried before.”
He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t completely right. “He was just worried about your safety. He knew that second bottle wasn’t a good idea.”
“Whatever.” He pulled his arm up to his mouth, coughing into the bend of his elbow. After a second of looking at the coat in his hands, he leaned forward and pushed his arms into it. “This is nice. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Don’t do it again.”
Should’ve seen that coming. “Noted.”
“Oh, and, um…” He cleared his throat, turning his head away from me. What was he looking at that was easier to see than me? Were the rocks showing him something I couldn’t see? “Thanks for meeting me where I’m at.”
I nodded, not sure what else to do. I was trying. I was doing my best, even though it was tearing me apart from the inside out, not being able to help him. But helping him would be to force him into something he didn’t want—recovery. Sobriety.
In my life again.
“Yeah, of course. You were right. It just took me a minute to get that.”
“Well, I appreciate the effort.” He started to push off the ground to stand.
I stumbled over my words for a second, reaching out to him before realizing I shouldn’t. Pulling my hand back, I shook my head. “Sorry. Um, I just have two questions.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What are they?”
“Will you tell me when you’re ready? I promise to try not to rush you, and I promise to keep trying to meet you where you’re at. You can always tell me to stop or that I’m going too fast if I am, but.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Will you just let me know when?”
“If, Callum. If.”
I blinked a few times, not sure if I was willing to take that part to heart. “Okay. Will you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I will. Next question?”
“Right. Um,” I stood up with him, grabbing the plastic bag with his trash. “Will you go to Jack’s? Stick around for a while? He cares about you, and he won’t mind if you don’t buy anything.”
“If you don’t think he hates me, then I’ll try. I won’t say that I’ll stay long.”
“That’s fine.”
He narrowed his eyes at me as he swung his backpack over his shoulder. “You just want to know where I am, don’t you?”
Yes. “No.”
He laughed and shook his head, starting to walk away. “You’re lyin’ through your teeth. But I get it. I’ll go pay him a visit.”
“Thanks!” I called down the alleyway, watching him walk away.
It hurt to watch him from his back, getting further and further away from me.
Don’t turn your back on me, Tobes. Please. Turn around. Come back. Stop leaving me. Stop leaving me. Stop leaving me. Stop leaving m-
Jack answered the phone within two rings. “Hello?”
I looked both ways before running across the crosswalk. “Hey, man. I think Tobi is going to your bar. He thinks he’s overstayed his welcome and has left a bad impression.”
“No. He’s always welcome here. I’ll try to make sure he knows that, though.
” He paused for a second, and I could hear glasses clattering in the background.
“Hey, I offered to let him stay in the back once. I’ve got that room with the cot back there.
You know how Mav’s house gets, so I keep it clean just in case.
But Tobi absolutely refused. Do you think it’d make things worse if I said something again? ”
I stopped just before the front door to Fire and Ice. “Uh, I don’t know. I pushed him a bit today already. He sounds like he has a cold, though, and the temps are about to drop a ton. I’d say tread carefully and bring it up again before Christmas Eve. That’s when it’s supposed to get pretty rough.”
“Got it. I’ll keep that in mind. Do you know where he’s been getting his booze from? Has he been going to another bar?”
“I don’t know. He said he doesn’t have any money.”
“People get creative when they don’t have money, though. I wonder if he’s trading with people to get some on the streets.”
“Probably.” The idea made me anxious, though. “Do you think they’d, like, put something in it if he was?”
“Some might. It’s always possible. So let’s just hope he isn’t getting it from shady people, if that’s what he’s doing.”
Just another thing to worry about. Fuck. “Okay. Thanks, Jack. I really appreciate you. I’ll come by and see you sometime.”
“Not today?”
“No, I’ve got something to finish up at home.”
“Alright. Just let me know.”
I hung up and pocketed my phone, reaching out for the restaurant’s door handle.
It was cold to the touch, much like the rest of the world right now.
Once I went in, I’d be warm. Hot, even. It stung to know that I’d get to sweat when Tobi had been freezing his ass off in that thin jacket of his this whole time.
But I had to meet him where he was. I had to accept him. All of him. Or I’d lose him for good, and I just couldn’t let that happen.
My shed was a fucking wreck. I stared at the wood stain on the table, trying to remember whether it was the right shade.
They were different brands with different names, but the color looked similar at least. All the wood was cut and ready to assemble—I just had to make it match the other rocking chair.
After assembly, I could start adding the final details, and I’d be done.
It’d taken me a surprisingly long time to get even the first one done, so I was thankful this one wasn’t taking me as long.
Maybe if I was lucky, I’d actually be able to get it to Papa before the New Year.
It was supposed to be a Christmas present, but we’d gone far past that point.
Deciding the stain would have to do, I dipped the brush in and started going over the first bar of wood, making sure to follow the grain.
Pops had been talking about getting some new rocking chairs so he and I could sit out on his porch together and enjoy the early mornings.
It was something we used to do when I was a kid.
Every morning was a brand-new day, and we swore never to waste it.
We’d usually sit in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence and soaking it all in.
The first time we sat on the porch together in our old, creaky rocking chairs was the day after he’d gained full custody of me. It was the morning after my first full night at his house, and I still couldn’t understand why my parents had hated me so much that they’d given up on taking care of me.
We hadn’t said anything to each other. I hadn’t asked any questions, despite having a million of them in my mind. We’d just sat and watched the sky turn colors and the clouds take over for a new, gorgeous day.
Our old rocking chairs had officially bitten the dust when I was nineteen.
It’d been a long time coming to get us new ones, but Pops always complained about the ones he’d looked at not being good enough.
He’d built our old ones for himself and Grammy years and years ago.
I’d always sat in Grammy’s chair. It used to have a dip where she’d sat, and I always thought that was my way of still being close to her, even though she was gone.
I’d taken after him in the woodworking department.
I never really understood why I’d gone into cooking, since I was never the best at it.
I never had the passion everyone else did.
I was a lot happier as a manager, coming home to my woodshed to work on what I truly loved.
I’d made most of the wood furniture in my house, too.
It was relaxing to do something with my hands, creating something from what used to be a bunch of trees.
Every type of wood had a different color when finished, but most of them built the same. Some were softer. Some were tougher. But I could pretty much make anything out of any type of wood.
Pops had no idea I was doing this for him. I couldn’t be more excited about showing him if I tried. When all of it was put together, I was going to carve our names into it with a little mockingbird beside them. Well, I was going to try to, at least. I wasn’t the most artistic, either.
He used to sing me all kinds of lullabies, even when I was far too old for them. I smiled, thinking about them as I grabbed a new board and started swiping the stain over it with the brush. My favorite was always the one about buying me a mockingbird.
It was soothing because I believed him when he sang it to me.
I’d fall asleep knowing Papa would do anything in the whole world for me.
Anything. He loved me enough that it didn’t matter whether my parents liked me or not because I had him.
He’d always taken care of me. He’d always loved me.
He was the only constant in my entire life.
Where others left, Papa had stayed. He didn’t choose alcohol over me. Not like my parents did. Not like Tobi was doing.
Fuck.
The thought had my eyes going blurry. It hit me straight in the heart, the pain spreading from the very center out to the rest of my ribcage. I dropped the brush, watching the wood stain splatter across my worktable as I hunched over, gripping it for dear life. If I didn’t hold on, I’d fall over.
Was that it? Was I so fucking unlovable that everyone who was ever supposed to love me just couldn’t handle my existence and instead turned to something that could numb them? Numb them from remembering how hard it was to love me.
What could alcohol give them that I couldn’t? What was wrong with me? Why?
Why?
Why?
Why wasn’t I important enough? Why wasn’t I lovable enough? Why was I always the last to be chosen, only to be thrown off to the side in the end?
I took in a deep breath, trying to hold it. I needed to calm the fuck down, or Papa’s rocking chairs would never get finished. I’d keep losing pieces of myself, laying them out with the drying wood, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get those pieces back.
Would Tobi ever love me again like I loved him?
Would he choose me?
Choose sobriety?
Choose life?
Or was I chasing something that didn’t exist anymore because my heart was too big and too gullible?
Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird won’t sing, Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring.