Coda Books 01 - Promises (MM) (3 page)

“I’m not a kid,” he said indignantly.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. Of course, being seventeen, he didn’t feel like a kid, even if he seemed like one to me. “I know. I’m just saying, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean that I can’t control myself. Or that I don’t have standards. Do you hit on every single girl you see? Even the ones that are only fourteen? Or the ones that are dating other people?”

Well, he had just turned seventeen; so maybe that was a bad example. “What about Lizzy? She likes men, too, but you don’t worry about her making a move on you.” I actually saw the wheels turning then as he thought about that. But I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

Either he would figure it out or he wouldn’t, but I didn’t feel like staying on the soapbox.

“Forget it, Ringo. I’m locking the doors. Turn the lights off when you leave.”

“Jared, wait!”

I turned around. He was chewing on his lip, tapping his pencil nervously against his book, but at least he was looking at me. “I’m never going to pass this class without help. I can’t pay you, but I’ll work off the clock if you’ll tutor me.”

“What about your dad?”

He shrugged a little. “He wants me to pass. I’ll work it out.”

His sudden change in attitude surprised me. Maybe I really had gotten through to him a little bit. Or maybe he was really that desperate to pass. Either way, I was also surprised to find that the idea of tutoring him wasn’t as dreadful as I had thought at first. I was actually looking forward to having something different to do. It might even be fun.

Fun?

That was a pretty sad indication as to the state of my social life. Still, sitting at a counter in a hardware/auto parts store wasn’t exactly stimulating. At least this would exercise some of my neglected gray matter. I could almost feel those unused parts of my brain waking up, stretching, and looking around to see what was going on.

Ringo was still looking at me, waiting for my answer. Why not?

“Okay, kid. Let’s see where you’re at.”

RINGO turned out to be a good student. He had the bad habit of wanting to plug numbers into equations right away instead of working with the variables, but once I broke him of that, he started to make progress. He was also hindered a little by his pride. He often told me that he understood things before he really did, but he never gave up. I had been working with him for a couple of weeks when Matt showed up at the shop.

“Hi Jared!” he said as he came in. “I was hoping to catch you before you left.” I hadn’t seen him since that night at Lizzy’s when he found out I was gay. I hadn’t expected to hear from him again.

Lizzy immediately feigned great interest in a shelf of oil filters. I knew she was listening to every word but trying to look like she wasn’t.

“I still owe you dinner and a beer. How about it?” He glanced around at Lizzy. “You’re welcome to join us, of course.”

“What? Me?” She managed to look flustered and embarrassed about being caught listening. “No. Brian’s waiting for me, and I can’t drink until after the baby’s born. You two will have more fun without me.”

We walked down the street to Mamacita’s, our one and only Mexican restaurant.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked him before we went inside.

“Okay with what?”

“This is a small town. People will see you with me, and they’ll make assumptions.”

He frowned a little at that, and I realized it hadn’t occurred to him. But then he shrugged.

“It’s just dinner.”

“Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Once we were seated, our waitress, Cherie, came over. “Jared, who’s your friend?” she asked. Cherie and I went to school together from kindergarten all the way through high school graduation. Back then, she was gorgeous—blonde hair, brown eyes, curves in all the right places. She still is, I guess, but life has taken its toll. Some of the shine is gone, but she hasn’t totally lost it. She’s been married and divorced twice, both times to Dan, one of our local lowlifes. The rumors are that Dan liked to beat her up when he had been drinking, which was most of the time. She had even ended up in the hospital once. She at least had been smart enough to divorce him. Twice. And they didn’t have any kids, which I thought was a blessing.

“Cherie, this is Matt. He’s Coda’s newest police officer.” I was thinking about how Matt would undoubtedly be familiar with her ex-husband before too long. He was always getting in trouble for something. “Matt, this is Cherie. She’s…” Trouble? Desperate? Lonely? “An old friend,” I finished lamely.

“So glad to meet you!” She was practically batting her eyelashes at him. Somehow, I knew we were going to get great service while we were there.

He was definitely checking her out as she walked away. “So,” he said, once she was gone, “did you and she date?”

I laughed. “No.”

“Did you ever date any girls at all?”

Oh no. Not this conversation. Why did it always come down to this?

“No. I never seriously dated any girls.”

“So, you’ve never…?” He let the question trail off, but it was obvious what he meant.

“No. Never with a girl.”

“Well, how do you know—?”

I couldn’t stop from rolling my eyes. “I just know. The fact that I’ve never even wanted to is a pretty big clue.”

Cherie showed up with our drinks, beaming at him. He didn’t seem to notice. When she was gone again, he said, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No worries. People often think that if we just try it, maybe we’ll like it. But for me at least, it’s not like that.”

“For some, though?”

“I don’t know. Obviously there are guys who like men but who still manage to get married and have kids. It must be different for them. I can’t really say. I only know that I’ve never wanted to try. Women just don’t appeal to me.”

“Interesting.” He was blushing a little. “What about, you know, the religious implications?”

“Are you asking me if I think it’s a sin?”

“I guess so, yeah.”

“I don’t believe in God, so no. Once you take him out of the equation, it becomes a simple matter of consenting adults.”

I could tell right away that made him uncomfortable.

“So you don’t believe in God at all?” He didn’t sound offended by the idea, just surprised.

“Not really. I just wasn’t raised that way. My dad was an atheist. My mom, well, I guess you could call her a spiritual agnostic with Buddhist inclinations, if you know what I mean.”

The look on his face told me that he didn’t. “I guess I figure there may be something out there that’s godlike. Something we can’t even begin to comprehend. But I can’t imagine that he, or it, cares much who’s in my bed.” He didn’t seem to disagree so much as to just be completely baffled. “I take it you’re Christian?”

“I guess so. I don’t know. I’m not a Bible thumper or anything, but I guess I’ve always believed that it must be true. My family’s Baptist. Didn’t go to church that often but always said grace before dinner. That kind of thing. I just never really thought about it much. How can so many people believe it if it’s wrong?”

“The number of people who believe a thing has no bearing upon its truth.”

He was still thinking about that when Cherie brought our food. “Need anything else, honey?” She didn’t even look at me. He ordered two more beers.

I figured turnabout was fair play. “So how about you? You never felt attracted to another guy?”

His cheeks turned bright red, and the result was beautiful. “No, absolutely not.” But it sounded like a lie to me. It was a little too quick and too harshly stated. In my experience, men who are truly straight don’t have to defend themselves so obstinately.

“It’s okay, you know? It’s okay to admit that you’re sometimes attracted to men. It doesn’t mean that you’re any less of one.”

“No!” Not angry but a little annoyed.

“Okay. Did you play any sports in high school?” That might have sounded like I was letting him off the hook, but I wasn’t through yet.

“I wrestled.”

Perfect! Of course, now I was trying to picture him in one of those tight little leotard things that wrestlers wear.

“And when you were wrestling, rolling around on the floor with another guy, you never started to get turned on?”

“That’s not the same.”

That surprised me, actually. I had been expecting denial. “It isn’t?”

“No. Everybody had that happen from time to time. It didn’t mean anything. We’re all wearing cups, so it’s not like the other guy knows. I just, you know, thought about baseball or something until the problem resolved itself.” He was recovering a little now, getting back to his usual bantering tone.

“Did thinking about baseball players make it go away?” I was grinning then, and I’m sure he knew I was teasing.

“Maybe not, but thinking about having the rest of the team kick my ass generally did the trick.”

“Yes, I suppose it would.”

We finished dinner and headed back to the shop. Despite the awkward topic over dinner, we lapsed easily back into comfortable conversation.

“So why did you become a cop?”

“Seemed like the thing to do. Do my duty. Protect and serve. God and country. All that happy horse shit.”

“God and country? Are you a Marine or something?”

He frowned again. I was really wishing he would smile more. I was betting that his smile would be amazing. “No. My dad was, though. I was supposed to be. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for not enlisting. I joined the ROTC, but that wasn’t really enough for him.

Everyone else—my dad, my uncle, my grandpa—they were all military. I don’t think they could ever understand why I didn’t want that life. As far as he’s concerned, it was my duty, and I failed.”

Boy, did that explain a lot! He was looking embarrassed now, and I had the distinct impression he hadn’t really meant to tell me all that. I wasn’t surprised when he suddenly changed the subject.

“You ever gone geo-caching?” he asked.

“Nope. I’ve heard about it, but I don’t have a GPS.”

“I thought I would give it a shot next weekend. Want to join me?”

“Sure.” I was trying to tell myself that this was not a date. Just buddies. And it would be nice to have a buddy, to be honest. Lizzy and Brian were great, but I was still lonely a lot. The idea of having a friend to hang out with was nice. I figured I better take advantage of it before one of the eligible women in town started monopolizing his free time. “That sounds like fun.”

“Great! I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.” I was sure Lizzy wouldn’t mind if I took the day off.

I gave him directions to my house and spent the rest of the week counting down the hours, cursing myself for a fool the entire time.

HE ARRIVED at my place at nine fifteen on Saturday. I wasn’t expecting him so early. I hadn’t shaved and was only wearing boxers. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Late night?” he asked jokingly.

“No, not at all. I’m just a bum, and you’re early. Come on in.”

“I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” he asked, glancing toward the bedroom.

I laughed. “God, I wish. The only option for me in this town is Mr. Stevens, the high school band teacher. And he’s thirty years older than me. I’ve never been quite that desperate.”

“Glad to hear that.” He was headed for the kitchen. “Got any coffee or anything?”

“Sure. Help yourself. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

From the bedroom, I heard the refrigerator open, and then he called out, “Good Lord, don’t you have any food?”

“There’s food in there!”

“I see milk, beer, a brick of cheese, two carry-out containers, and three—no, make that four!—jars of mustard.”

“There you go—milk, beer, and cheese: the three basic food groups,” I told him as I came into the kitchen. “I didn’t say there was a lot of food. I don’t exactly cook.”

“Me neither. Although, I dare say my fridge looks a little better than this.” He closed it and turned to me, rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Let’s stop by the deli and get some sandwiches to take with us. I’m starving already.”

I wasn’t sure our sandwich shop (I couldn’t quite call it a deli) would be open yet, but we could at least hit the grocery store.

“You ready?” he asked.

“All set.”

“Great. We’ll get some food, then, um”—why was he looking so flustered?—“we need to stop by and pick up Cherie on our way out of town.”

I felt like he had just punched me in the stomach. “Cherie?”

He at least had the decency to look miserable. “I know. Here’s the deal: A few nights ago, we got a call for a domestic disturbance. And it turned out to be her house. Her loser ex- husband—what’s his name again?”

“Dan Snyder.”

“Right. He was there. He was so drunk he could hardly stand up. She was crying, and he was screaming, calling her a whore and worse. And it looked like maybe he had hit her, too, but of course she denied it. On domestic calls, we have to take somebody in, so we arrested him. And that got ugly.

“Anyway, she tracked me down the next day. She showed up at my house, for Christ’s sake. Said she wanted to
thank
me, so would I come to dinner at her place? She didn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. So I got her to agree to come along with us today instead.

Seemed a lot safer than going alone to her house.” He sighed and then cocked his eyebrow at me, one corner of his mouth barely twitching up. I was beginning to realize this was what amounted to a smile for him. “Consider yourself our chaperone.”

“So you need me to defend your virtue?” I was trying not to smile.

“Not my virtue so much as my independence.”

“I’m defending your independence?”

He winked at me. “Exactly.”

I had to laugh. “Sweet! I’ve always wanted to be a goddamn freedom fighter. But you’re definitely going to owe me a beer for this one!”

He looked enormously relieved. “I promise.”

Knowing that he wasn’t too interested in seeing her made me feel a little better. It was obvious when we picked her up that Matt hadn’t really clarified that they weren’t going to be alone. She wasn’t any happier to see me than I was to see her. Still, she seemed determined to make the best of it. I got out of the Jeep and started to climb into the back.