Chapter 33 #2
“Michael.” He reached out his hand to shake, but Cody immediately caught sight of the gold band around his finger.
“Oh…” He stopped and pulled his hand back. “I didn’t know you were—”
“It’s an open marriage,” he interrupted. “We’ve been looking for a younger third.”
“A third?”
“You know. Nothing serious, just some fun in the bedroom.” He grabbed his phone. “I have a picture of my husband if you’re interested.”
Cody forced a smile and shook his head. “Sorry. I’m looking for something more serious.”
“You shouldn’t be settling down. You should be hooking up.” He grabbed Cody’s arm. He was pretty well-built, about a half a foot taller, and probably in his early thirties. “I know how guys like you are.”
“Guys like me?”
He looked down at Cody’s outfit. “You’re the hot guy that loves attention from the right kinds of guys.” He pulled a wallet from his jacket pocket. “Good dick also comes with benefits.”
That shouldn’t have been the first interaction with an interested guy after that last breakup; I wasn’t sure how I would have reacted, either.
Eh, fuck it. I knew exactly what I’d do.
I had been a huge, desperate slut back in my half-turn days.
Cody didn’t look so good, and I could tell by his rosy cheeks he was mortified.
“Excuse me.” Cody turned away and walked by the bar, waving at Rob. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Cody—” Rob called out, but he was already out the back door, running to the bus stop with me followin’ close behind.
“I hate being gay,” Cody said, sitting on the bench just as the bus rounded the corner. The poor guy looked like he was about to throw up. “Guess I’m just an easy faggot to everyone, huh?”
The vision shifted to him sitting at home on his air mattress, scrolling through a dating app on his phone. Each time he’d go to swipe right on someone he found attractive, he’d freeze and give the picture more scrutiny. Then he’d click on the profile and read every word.
“What is FWB?” He opened his browser and typed in the acronym before letting out a heavy sigh.
He swiped left and started reading another guy’s profile.
“What the hell is a service top? Into bears and chubs? Like teddy bears?” He typed that in and squinted.
“These shit apps should just come with a dictionary.”
He swiped left again. “Ooo, he looks promising.” Cody read through the profile.
“A lawyer, loves dogs, twenty-five, monogamous…” His eyes narrowed as he continued reading.
“Too perfect. Vers—at least I know what that means.” His shoulders slumped forward as he got to the last part.
“He has a kid. Well…” He swiped left and turned off the screen before laying back onto his pillow.
“I’m going to die alone.” Cody stared up at the ceiling as the air conditioning kicked on. “I guess that’s the way it is.”
His phone chirped, but he ignored it.
“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
The studio apartment changed to something a lot more familiar, and instead of an air mattress, he had a real mattress on a wooden frame.
The dining room table was the same, but now he had a flat screen TV and a beanbag chair in front of it.
Cody sat at the table shuffling through a stack of papers, pushing some to the side and throwing others into a small garbage bin.
“Well, these internships are out,” he muttered, tossing another small stack into the trash. He held up another sheet of paper and shook his head. “Too risky.”
His phone buzzed against the table, and his face turned an off-shade of pale when he read the unnamed number. He pressed the side button to silence it, his focus shifting from the paperwork to the voicemail alert that soon followed.
Cody picked up the phone and swiped away the home screen, looking like he was struggling with something. He eventually navigated the menu to the voicemail.
“Hey Cody, this is Aunt Sandy. Your father died a few days ago. I won’t speak ill of the dead, but this was a wake-up call for your mom.
Anyway, I know you’ve cut ties with this place, and I’m not saying you should come to his funeral, but if you want to come visit me, I’d love to hear all the wonderful things happening in your life.
I love you. You’re my favorite nephew, you know. ”
He pressed the callback button and held the phone to his ear. The dial tone clicked.
“So, what finally did the fucker in?”
“Hepatitis C.”
“Rest in piss, you piece of shit.” Cody’s tone was ice cold as he picked up another paper. “I don’t mind speaking ill of the dead. Speaking of horrible people, how’s Mom? Still on the pills?”
“She may not be the best person in the world, but she’s still my family. She’s made a lot of unforgivable mistakes with everyone, especially you.”
“She was an awful mother. They weren’t just mistakes. She kept me in that shithole, hungry and dirty just so she and Dad could get another fix.”
“Will you come visit me?”
Cody went quiet, dropping a paper before rubbing his forehead. “As long as I’m not pressured to give the eulogy, because what I’d say wouldn’t exactly be church-worthy.”
“You don’t even have to go to the funeral.”
“No, I want to make sure the man is really dead. And I want it to be an open casket.” Cody paused. “If Mom’s had this huge awakening, why didn’t she call me?”
“You changed your number and told me not to give it to anyone, remember?”
“See, this is why you’re my favorite aunt.”
“I’m your only aunt,” the woman added. “I’ll buy the plane tickets for next week and get the guest room ready. We have a lot to catch up on, and I want to hear everything. Do you have a boyfriend yet?”
Cody cringed.
“I’m more interested in a career.”
“You’re still in your shell, aren’t you?”
“Aunt Sandy—”
“Dating is hard for everyone, not just gay men. Ask any woman over forty. You’ve always been kind of a golden child, despite what your parents did. You’re smart, handsome, driven, but you’re too damn judgmental and closed off.”
“I’m not—”
“Cody, the way you talked about others borderlined being a cynical asshole, and you’re gonna hate me for saying this, but that’s how your father used to talk.”
Damn, that hurt even me, but I was likin’ this Aunt Sandy. Wonder if Cody’ll ever go visit her and let me tag along.
“Ouch,” Cody muttered, briefly pulling the phone away from his ear.
“You hold yourself and others to impossible standards, and that’s only going to make you more miserable the older you get. I know a lot of this falls on bad parenting, but you’re an adult now. It’s up to you to decide how to live your life, and if you’re not happy, you have the power to change it.”
“It’s hard,” Cody said, leaning back in his chair. “I keep trying to put myself out there, but I’ve already been hurt. And I don’t want to be a fucking stereotype.”
“Everyone gets hurt, sweetie, and you don’t have to be a stereotype. There’s no right or wrong way to be who you are, but don’t let that state of mind stop you from letting yourself have fun, even if you end up being a stereotype. You should probably start with changing that attitude as well.”
“You’re being spicy today.”
“Well, I’ve been on the phone with your hysterical mother for a few hours, trying to drum up some sympathy, so I’m a little wound up.” She paused. “So, I’ll see you next week?”
“See you next week.”
“Oh, Dakota?”
“I hate that name. You know this.”
I could almost hear that woman smile over the phone.
“Happy twentieth birthday. I’d have sent you something, but you never gave me your address.”
His studio faded until the ceiling turned to blue sky as far as the eye could see.
The sun was brutal, and I watched the scene unfold, the funeral playing out the way funerals often did with one exception—Cody’s resentful face.
He stood in the back wearin’ a baseball cap and sunglasses, dressed in a bright salmon shirt and white basketball shorts.
A preacher led everyone in prayer as the casket was lowered, and Cody took that moment to slink away toward the line of cars parked along the winding cemetery road. He opened the door of a small red sedan and slid into the passenger seat while scrollin’ through his phone.
The car felt hot to the touch, and I realized I could interact with it, so I opened the door and crammed myself into the small back seat. I had to leave the door open since half my body wouldn’t fit.
A blond woman in her early forties climbed into the driver’s seat. She was heavy-set, wearin’ a plain black dress and a little bit of makeup.
“Well, you made your statement loud and clear, and you didn’t even say a word.”
Cody set his phone in his lap. “This place is just as depressing as I remember.”
“Have you said anything to your mom?”
“Nope, and I don’t plan to. If she wants to talk, she can start with an apology and work from there.
” He turned to his aunt. “Just being in this town brings back shitty memories. Whenever I’m alone, I’m depressed.
Whenever I’m around people, I panic. Whenever I even think of dating a man, I can’t shake away years of abuse. ”
“Have you considered therapy?”
“Therapy takes years, and I can’t afford it.” Cody let out an angry groan. “It seems you can move all the way across the country, but your problems follow like a shadow.”
Another woman made her way to the car, also wearing black.
I knew right away she was Cody’s mom, thinner with darker blonde hair pulled back into a straight ponytail.
She looked so different and much older compared to the first vision of her.
She wasn’t wearing makeup or jewelry, and her eyes were bloodshot from crying.
“Great,” Cody muttered as she approached the open door.
“You could have worn something a little more respectful.”
“That would have required some sort of respect. What the hell do you want?”
“You haven’t spoken to me in years, and your father—”