May in December (3 page)

Bruce snapped his fingers, remembering something he wanted to tell them. “Oh, speaking of growing up, guess who I ran into a few days ago?”

Everyone shot out a name, but none were right.

“So who is it?” Gail asked, sounding bored with the game.

“Jorry Nelson.”

“Really?” Kelley and Kerri said in unison, both brightening up immediately.

“How is the boy?” asked Gail.

Bruce sat back in his chair, feeling all warm and dreamy, some things he had not felt in a long time. “He’s a man now. And peculiar. A little melancholy. Shy. Short and slim. And works hard with dogs.”

“Sounds like the same Jorry to me,” Kelley said. “He always wanted to do something with animals.”

Kerri agreed. “If you see him again, tell him we said hi and invite him to the wedding.”

Bruce nodded. “I’ll be seeing him tomorrow afternoon after work. In fact, I’ve been seeing him almost every day for the past week.”

Gail’s perfectly manicured eyebrow rose. “Oh? Why didn’t you tell me?” Gingersnap and Snickerdoodle whined at her high-pitched voice.

Bruce ignored all three.

“That’s great, Daddy,” Kerri gushed. “You’re getting out more.”

Kelley swallowed a sip of coffee. “How’s the moving coming along?”

“It’s had its moments. Some days it’s easy, since everyone I love has moved on. Other days, I get stuck in memoryville, and that sucks.” Bruce glanced around his living room, noting everything that still needed to be Bubble Wrapped and boxed. “I’ve packed up your bedrooms and put the stuff in storage, so you can have access to it anytime. I finally cleared out Robert’s dressers and closet and sent the clothes to a local men’s shelter.

“Whoa, Dad.” Kelley scratched the inside of his ear. “Back up. I didn’t hear that right.”

“You did what with Robert’s stuff?” Gail asked.

Kerri’s jaw dropped. “That’s great. As much as we all loved Papa Robert, this is a major event. What made you do it now?”

Bruce shrugged his shoulder and winked at Gail. “Someone talked me into making an early New Year’s resolution. Otherwise, I’ve donated a couple of trucks worth of furniture and knick-knacks, but there is still a bunch of stuff to be packed and taken to the new apartment.”

“Sounds like you could use our help.” Kelley flexed his muscles to the screen. Gail whistled, and Kerri sputtered a raspberry. “When we come home for Christmas and the wedding, me, Kerri, and her worthless, pampered Bill can spend a day helping you.”

This comment, of course, irritated Kerri, and the two siblings battled it out like old times. Bruce chuckled to himself. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

* * * *

A week later, Jorry woke to a pounding sound on the roof of his car. Focusing his blurry eyes, he scraped a small peephole on the icy glass and saw his best friend, Tabitha, standing outside in her fuzzy pink bathrobe. With her hands on her hips, she didn’t seem happy.

He slowly rolled down his window. “Hey there.” He yawned. “What time is it?”

“Time to get your ass inside the apartment, where it’s warm.” Tabitha scowled, her breath billowing in the cold. “While you’re at it, take a shower. Breakfast is in thirty minutes.” She turned her back, stalked toward the redbrick building, and stood waiting.

Jorry opened his car door and got out. With a long stretch, he yawned again, shook his cramped legs, and glanced around.
Damn, it got cold last night
. Glistening frost covered the Dumpster and most of the cars in the parking lot. Sleeping in his grandmother’s old car in different parking lots was uncomfortable as all hell, but at least it was a shelter. With another yawn, he reached over to his passenger seat and picked up a small duffel bag. He slammed the door shut and followed Tabitha into the apartment.

Once inside, the warmth hit Jorry, and he rubbed out the pins-and-needles feeling from his hands and fingers. Afterward, he reached in his pocket, drew out a fast-food napkin, and blew his dripping nose. “Ahhh. That’s better.” He walked into the kitchen alcove, and colored paper turkeys hung on the refrigerator, no doubt the artwork of Tabitha’s four children. He flinched when she banged a bowl and spoon down on the snack bar.

“How many times do I have to tell you my couch is always open?”

“I know, but I didn’t get off from work until two o’clock this morning.” Jorry pushed the sleeves up on his hoodie and sat on a stool. He was still tired and wasn’t in the mood to bicker. “There’s no way I was going to knock on your door and wake you and the kids up at that hour.”

“Come on, Jor. In this day and age, it’s too dangerous to sleep in your car. Not to mention how cold it’s gonna get.”

“At least I have a car to sleep in,” Jorry said. “Everything I own is inside, including my grandma’s ashes. It’s my home. For now.”

Tabitha’s features softened. “Hon, I know. I worry about you. But this job at the Dawg Haus isn’t kosher, and you know it.” With what Jorry presumed was motherly concern, Tabitha clasped her hand over his wrist and gently squeezed. “You’re worn-out, and don’t think that hoodie of yours is hiding your weight loss.”

Jorry huffed his best manly grunt and waved her off. “I’ll survive and be better for it.”

“Here.” Tabitha poured boiling water in a cup filled with instant cocoa. “Drink this and go take your shower. I’ll make some stick-to-your-ribs oatmeal.”

“Will you doctor it up with butter and lots of brown sugar?”

Tabitha nodded. “I’ll use the whole damn bag if it makes you happy.”

Feeling much older than his twenty-three years, Jorry snatched up his duffel bag and padded down the short hallway into the small bathroom. He stripped and, within minutes, was under the hot, cleansing spray. After a good soap up, including scrubbing gingerly across his new bruises, he wearily pressed his head against the shower wall and watched the swirl of watery bubbles run down the drain, carrying with them the surface sweat of four days’ work.

Wish my problems would wash away like that.

He snorted off the self-pity as he grabbed the shampoo and lathered his head up. In the grand scheme of things, circumstances could be worse. In fact, after his grandmother had died, it had been worse. His mother, drunk or high all the time, had brought home a different man every other night. If he was lucky, those men treated him either with indifference or as a punching bag. Sometimes, when his mother was passed out, they would come into his bedroom and…

Jorry shook his head.
Time to change my mind to a different station
. Too bad the next channel was worse than the first one.

Visions of how far he had fallen from his lofty goal of becoming a veterinarian washed over him. He had truly thought the job at the Dawg Haus was legit, and he’d felt blessed he was hired without a high school diploma. Then Pickworth W. Johnson III had acquired the struggling business and brought it under the umbrella of his other pet-care enterprises, turning the dog-care business into a front for illegal activity.

Jorry closed his eyes, wishing for the images to vanish, but they only came on stronger, in 3-D gory detail—the drugs he was forced to sell while delivering the dogs from their walks, the times he was made to sell his body under orders of the boss, the bruises and abrasions he received from clients or Todd when he failed to please or argued about his involuntary participation with the illegal activities. Thank the gods, he hadn’t had anything to do with Pickworth’s other illegal doings. Yet.

“Stop it!” Jorry’s harsh whisper rose above the sound of the shower spray. “I’m vowing my New Year’s resolution early. I’ll pay the cemetery the full amount, and Grandma
will
be rightfully buried with a headstone. I’ll find a decent job and work on my GED, and I’ll have a man in my life that treats me like a king.”

Jorry sighed. If only his heart would believe what his mouth said.

Twenty minutes later, Jorry exited the bathroom feeling like a new man. He slid back on the bar stool and practically inhaled his oatmeal. Tabitha stared at him the entire time. It was a bit unnerving, but he understood her concern. Call it the mother in her, and he had to admit, he kind of liked the attention. He finished his oatmeal and was treated to a second cup of hot cocoa. Glancing about the apartment, he noticed the time. The children should be up and getting ready for school. “It’s too quiet in here. Where are the kids?”

“Spending the week with their father. Speaking of which, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“Walking the dogs whose owners are out of town and delivering gourmet meals for pampered pooches.” Jorry set down his cup. “It’ll be busy. I should make a killing in tips.”

“You mean that damn dog business is open on Thanksgiving? Jesus.” Tabitha sipped at her coffee. “That doesn’t seem fair to the employees. I mean, you guys have lives too.”

“I volunteered because Patti has a baby.” Jorry shrugged, ignoring a minor ache in his shoulder from the most recent beating he’d received. “Not everybody has family to be with. Bruce says nowadays everything is open. Places like bars and movie theaters do great business on the holidays.”

“Bruce?”

“A…friend of mine.” Jorry toyed with the spoon in his empty bowl, not sure if he wanted to share his feelings. “We talk every day when I walk the dogs in the afternoon.”

“Oh? And how long has this been going on?”

“I dunno. Right after Halloween.”

“Woo-hoo! A social life.” Tabitha pumped her fist in the air. “It’s about time you started seeing someone.”

“It’s not what you think. He’s the father of a friend I grew up with.”

Tabitha placed her elbows on the counter, her chin balanced in her hands. “What’s he like?”

“Wise. Interesting. Funny. He’s about ten inches taller than me, broad shoulders and dark hair with a touch of gray. He has a beard, which used to be big and bushy, but now he keeps it neatly trimmed. He has green eyes and always smells like Old Spice. We both love the movie
Dr. Horrible
and watching sumo wrestling. We both collect comic books, and we both like listening to the oldies station.” Jorry stared dreamily past Tabitha’s shoulder. “When I’m around him, I feel comfortable. Like I trust him. He respects me. He listens to me and makes me feel like I’m important.”

“So he’s a good guy, not like the other losers who have passed through your life.”

Jorry winced. Yeah, he had an unsuccessful track record with men. Young guys his age were too immature and didn’t
get
his old-fashioned ideas, like taking things slow and enjoying life one day at a time. Older men didn’t take him seriously and regarded him as a mere child. And then there were those who liked to treat him like he was a worthless piece of trash.

“Do you
like
him?” Tabitha asked as she scrutinized him. “You do, don’t you?”

“What’s not to like?” Jorry leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I’ve secretly had a crush on him for years.”

“Then go for it.”

It was a moment before Jorry snapped his mouth shut. “Did you hear me? He’s the
father
of a friend.”

“It’s okay.” Tabitha brushed a blonde strand of hair from her face. “In this day and age, it’s no biggie to be with someone older. In fact, I think you would do better with a mature man.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? You already said you like him and you guys have a lot in common.”

Jorry shifted on the bar stool. “This is different.”

“Different how?” Tabitha touched her fingers to her mouth in mock shock. “Oh, wait. Let me guess. It’s that blasted self-esteem issue again.”

“Well, duh.” Jorry slapped his forehead with his index finger and thumb sticking out to form the letter L. “I’m a loser. Blue-ribbon, first-class, and pedigree-papered loser.” He slumped his shoulders forward and studied his holey shoes. “Hell, I have no GED, I’m homeless and working a job that’s not always on the up-and-up. What could he possibly see in me?”

“Are you dense? What man wouldn’t want a young guy who’s full of life, hardworking, and totally devoted to whomever he gives his heart to? And I bet an older man would appreciate you.” Tabitha moved over to the calendar hanging on the wall and flipped a page. “If you play your cards right, he could be yours by New Year’s.”

Jorry jerked his head up and glowered. “I’m not about to play childish games with Bruce. He’s too good for that.” He bowed his head. “He’s too good for me.”

Smack!

“Ow.” Jorry rubbed the top of his head while glaring at the spoon Tabitha had hit him with. “Whatcha do that for?”

“Whaddya think? I’m not gonna stand here and let you put yourself down.” Tabitha dropped the spoon back in the empty bowl, skirted around the counter island, and firmly gripped Jorry’s elbows. “You’re special.”

“Yeah. Special ed maybe.”

“Jorry Nelson, listen to me.” Tabitha shook his elbows with each word. “With all the obstacles you have overcome, you deserve to treat yourself nice. Cut yourself some slack. You owe it to yourself to explore any avenues life offers you, and I think the gods have dropped a golden opportunity in your lap.”

“Bruce Deirmann is so out of my league. I’m just happy to have him as a friend.”

“But you want him,” Tabitha pressed. “I hear it in your voice.”

“Wanting him and actually having a shot at him are two different things.” Jorry stood up and collected his duffel bag. “Besides, in his eyes, I’ll always be a kid.”

“You don’t know that,” Tabitha challenged, her eyes ablaze. “Don’t underestimate him. Or yourself.”

Too many things were swirling around in Jorry’s head. He appreciated the pep talk, yet part of him squelched the hope in his heart. After all, if he didn’t hope, he wouldn’t be disappointed. He glanced at his watch, relieved to see the time. “I gotta go. I’m due back at work.”

Before Tabitha could respond, he was already out the door and headed for his car, ready to start another long day.

Chapter Three

For the next week and a half, Bruce kept busy at the resort. Gail put him in charge of setting up the winter seasonal lighting displays, stating it would do him some good to get in the holiday spirit. Bruce doubted it would work, but he kept his mouth shut and got down to business. After punching out at the time clock, he would walk to the park and wait for Jorry at their favorite bench.