May in December (4 page)

He yearned for the short times they spent together. He enjoyed the banter they exchanged over trivial things, as Jorry always had something witty or profound to say in his shy, odd manner. Besides, watching the dog walker pulled by his herd of hounds made Bruce laugh, something he hadn’t done in a long time. It was obvious Jorry enjoyed his job and had a unique ability to reach out to each dog. It was also evident he had a special way of connecting with Bruce. He conversed with Jorry more than he had anyone for the past two years.

Today, Bruce waited for Jorry at the park entrance. When he caught himself pacing with anticipation, he stopped.
I am a grown man. This is ridiculous. Robert would be laughing until he pissed himself. This peculiar warm fuzziness filling my chest when I meet up with Jorry is nothing more than heartburn. But who am I fooling? I know what it is, and it’s been a long time since I’ve really connected with someone.

When Jorry rounded the corner and spied Bruce, his tired face lit up. Knowing his presence brought the young man joy made Bruce’s spirit soar, and he eagerly stepped up his pace to meet Jorry halfway.

“Hello, there.” Bruce handed Jorry a cup of hot chocolate, the steam still rising from the top. “I took the liberty of getting you something warm to drink. How’s it going?”

Jorry switched the dog leashes to his right hand and accepted the cup. “Can’t complain. I only have four dogs today, so it won’t be much of a workout.”

Bruce matched his stride with Jorry’s, and together they started down the path. “I thought I’d walk with you.” He patted his soft stomach. “Lord knows I could use the exercise.”

“I think you look great.” As soon as the words left Jorry’s mouth, he blushed and cast his gaze away. “I mean, I’d love the company. Anytime you want to walk with me would be cool.”

A brilliant, lingering feeling heated Bruce’s heart and put a little spring in his step. “You know, you still haven’t told me a lot about your job.”

Jorry dropped his head. “N-not much to say. The Dawg Haus is sorta like a doggy day care. We walk, feed, bathe, clip, train, and make homemade…treats. We also do other…odd services.” They paused by a cedar tree while a dog relieved its bladder. “It’s a job. I go in, do my duty, and leave.”

Bruce frowned. The tone in Jorry’s voice didn’t ring with confidence. In fact, it sort of sounded like he was embarrassed about the job. Bruce decided it must be the fact that he didn’t graduate from high school and had no GED. Maybe he could help the young man out. After all, it would mean more time together. Bruce quelled the odd sensation in his stomach at that thought.

Jorry changed the subject. “Are Kelley and Kerri coming home for Thanksgiving?”

“No. They’ll be home closer to Christmas for the wedding.”

“Oh.”

“But hey, I’ll be spending Thanksgiving by myself this year, probably doing some packing and cleaning. If you’re not doing anything on Turkey Day…”

Jorry’s slumped his shoulders. “I gotta work. Don’t know when I’ll get off.”

Bruce spotted a trash bin and darted over to throw his empty cup away. “By the way, I keep forgetting to tell you that Kerri has invited you to share her special day with us. All she needs to know is your address so she can send the invitation.”

“A-address? I-I’ll give it to you later.”

Bruce didn’t miss Jorry’s mask slipping into place or the apprehension in his voice. Was it something he had said? Perhaps Jorry didn’t want him to know where he lived. “No problem. In fact, I can give you my invitation. Maybe we could go together?”

Jorry startled. “Don’t you want to take someone else? A friend or something?”

“You’re my friend.”
Idiot. Of course he doesn’t want to hang out with an old guy
. Bruce shoved his cold hands into his coat pockets and tried to recover from his mistake. “It was just an idea. If you have a girlfriend you want to take, then, by all means, you should take her.”

“A-a girlfriend?” Jorry stumbled over one of the smaller dogs and spilled his hot chocolate down the front of his hoodie. “Ummm, I don’t think so. There’s no one in my life.”

Bruce collected the empty cup, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a couple of fast-food napkins. He handed them to Jorry.

“Besides,” Jorry continued as he wiped at his chest, “I don’t swing that way.”

Bruce faltered in his step. It took a moment for the information to sink into his brain. “You’re gay?”

“Out and proud.” Jorry puffed his chest. “Well, as out as one can be in northern Michigan.”

Bruce laughed. “Yeah. It’s not exactly the gay metropolis of the state, is it?”

“Amen.”

They strolled the rest of the way in silence, stopping every so often to let the dogs sniff at the things they found interesting. When Bruce and Jorry reached the parking lot, their steps slowed up.

“Well, this is it.” Bruce tried to hide the disappointment from his voice.

“Yep.”

Bruce glanced down at the impatient dogs wrapping themselves around Jorry’s legs. “You got to get back to work.”

“And you got to go pack more boxes.”

“Yeah.”

Jorry tilted his head. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Tomorrow? The same time?”

“Works for me.”

“Bye.” Bruce began to walk away, already wishing it was tomorrow.

“Bruce?”

Bruce turned around. Jorry hadn’t moved from his spot. “Yes?”

Jorry tilted his head, his inquisitive hazel gaze boring into Bruce’s. “Ummm, were you serious about me going to Kerri’s wedding? With you?”

A swarm of bumblebees took up residence in Bruce’s stomach. “Yes.”

Jorry flashed a shy yet brilliant smile. “I’d like that.”

“Then it’s a date.” The words tumbled out of Bruce’s mouth before he thought about them.

“Yeah…a date.” Though the word came awkwardly off Jorry’s lips, the fire in his eyes told a different story. The first fat, fluffy snowflakes of winter danced down from the gray skies.

Now, Robert, that’s a sign if I ever saw one.

* * * *

All evening long, Jorry bounced between elation and doubt.

A date? For real? Naw, he didn’t mean a
date-date,
did he? I like Bruce. I’ve always liked Bruce. Could he like me for more than a friend? Maybe our age difference will be a problem for him. Maybe he’ll dismiss me when he finds out how messed up my life is. Maybe I should back out. Tell him I have to work the day of the wedding.

“Hey, Jorry. What gives?”

Patti surprised him out of his thoughts, and he dropped a tray of utensils. In the back room of the store, the clatter seemed a hundred times louder than normal. “Patti. You startled me.” He squatted down to pick up the kitchen gadgets. “You were saying?”

Patti knelt beside him to help. “I was wondering wassup?”

“N-nothing. Why?”

“Because you’re swinging more than my bipolar mother. One minute you’re high on happiness, and the next you seem depressed.”

“Oh. That.” Jorry stood up and placed the filled tray near the dishwasher. “I got a lot on my mind.”

“So I see.” Patti paused. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Patti was sweet, but she was too young to confide in. A high-school dropout at eighteen and already with a nine-month-old baby, she had enough troubles of her own. Jorry opened his mouth to thank her and shut it quick when a blast of cold air swooshed into the back room. Pickworth entered through the rear exit, with Todd close on his heels.

“The only thing that should be on your mind is what you’re going to do with this.” Todd placed a couple of bales of marijuana on the counter, along with a container of pink crystal meth rocks. He left through the same door he’d come in.

With his delicate fingers, Pickworth reached in the inner breast pocket of his overcoat, withdrew a plastic bag filled with rose-gray heroin, and laid it on the counter. “And how are you both today?”

Patti gushed. “Doing good. The baby said her first word today. Ma.”

“Cool,” Jorry said. Hanging around with Tabitha, he knew how important those first words were to a mother.

Pickworth smiled. “Good for her. They are so precious at that age, or so I hear. My fiancée and I plan to have a houseful. But that will be in the future; for now, let’s get down to business. Both of you will have deliveries tomorrow. Todd will supply the addresses. I need two hundred dog cookies made with the grass. The rest are hanging in baggies and hidden in the toilet tank. If we are diligent enough, that should bring in enough money to buy multiple presents for all the children in the county foster care system, which will really look sweet for the community-minded society when I throw my hat into the mayor’s race next year. Why, I might even get an interview from the local news out of the deal. What do you think, Patti?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

Jorry turned around to watch Todd reenter the room with a large cardboard box. Pickworth opened the box and pulled out a couple of half-stuffed dog toys. “You will fill each one of these toys with a quarter gram of heroin wrapped in wax paper or”—he pointed to the heroin crystals and the condoms—“a bone of Strawberry Quick in a balloon.”

Patti peered inside the box. “But that will take all night. My sitter can’t stay past eleven.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Pickworth patted Patti’s head, then let his hand travel down her back and land on her ample ass. “I’ve already cleared it with your mother. She is happy to watch the little one overnight while you work.”

“Really?” she asked. “That was so thoughtful.”

His lips parted over perfect teeth, and it creeped Jorry out. “Besides, love, Jorry can handle this part by himself.
Your
talents are in demand elsewhere for the night.”

“But I can’t.” Patti backed up a step, knowing what his tone implied. “It’s during my, umm, you know, my period.”

Todd snickered. “Some men like that. There are other holes to use.”

Patti bit her lips to stifle a whimper.

Pickworth rolled his eyes and sighed in a put-off, aristocratic way. “Crude but accurate.” He offered Patti his arm. “Come, love. I have a change of pretty clothes that you can keep back at my hotel room. These men want a bedazzled woman.”

Patti stared at Jorry, apprehension clearly nestled across her eyebrows. Jorry had to do something. Patti didn’t deserve what was in store for the evening.

“Are you for sure these men don’t swing my way?” Jorry challenged Pickworth as he nodded toward Patti. “I can do more things for a man than a woman can.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Again, Pickworth smiled, and the gesture made Jorry shiver. “And as delightful and spirited as you are in bed, the needs of these men can only be met by a girl.” Pickworth pulled Patti toward the door. “Your chariot awaits.”

Patti locked eyes with Jorry, panic threaded through her stare. “Please…” she begged, unsuccessfully trying to disengage her arm from Pickworth’s firm grip.

“Mr. Johnson.” Jorry stepped forward. “Can’t you see a group thing is way too much for her?”

“Why, Jorry, I think you have a point. Don’t worry, Patti. I have something that will help you out and make it all better.” Pickworth nodded curtly to Todd. With a jerky yet quick motion, the store manager opened up a drawer and pulled out a diabetic syringe.

“A little Special K never failed to put a girl in a party mood.” Todd laughed as he jammed the needle in a vial and slowly drew the plunger.

“No!” Jorry and Patti shouted in union.

In a mad dash of desperation, Jorry rushed forward. He knocked the drug vial out of Todd’s grasp. Todd punched Jorry in the face. The force of the blow threw Jorry backward. He smashed the side of his head against the corner of the counter. The box of dog toys tipped and rained down on him.

“Jorry!” screamed Patti.

Through his dazed vision, he saw Patti’s attention shift from the puddle of blood around him and back to Todd. He was coming at her with the liquid-filled syringe.

“N-n-o-o-o! Don’t do this.”

Pickworth held the squirming girl’s arm, whispering in her ear to calm her down. Todd sank the needle deep into a vein. She collapsed in Pickworth’s arms, crying hysterically.

“There, there, my dear,” Pickworth cooed. “Everything will be all right. You’ll see.”

Todd’s rude snicker echoed in the room. “Or she won’t see. Doubt she will remember what is going to happen to her tonight.”

“Which is probably for the best.” Pickworth patted the sobbing Patti, his voice full of reassurance. “Think of this as a great opportunity. With the commission from this sale, you’ll be able to afford the Christmas you dreamed of for your little baby.” He removed a silk handkerchief from his pocket. “Dry your tears. Smile. There you go! I have all the faith in the world you will do fine tonight.”

Patti accepted the handkerchief, and Pickworth took her hand in his and kissed the top before leading her toward the exit.

“What about him?” Todd pointed to Jorry on the floor.

Pickworth rolled his shoulders back with authority. “Lay no hand on him.” He glanced down at Jorry. “I have plans for him this weekend, and I want no marks.” Pickworth and Patti left through the rear door into the snowy night.

As the door closed, Todd swooped over Jorry’s prone body and kicked his side twice with his snow boots. Jorry curled his body in, willing himself not to cry out. “I can still make you hurt without using my hands or leaving marks. Now get up and clean this mess. You’ve a ton of work to do.”

When Todd left the room, Jorry hobbled out the door.

* * * *

Ding-ding-ding dong…

“Who could that be at this time of night?” Bruce mumbled to himself.

He had been packing up some kitchen things for donation and, after detecting a slight twinge of strain in his lower back, welcomed the distraction. He climbed down from the step stool and wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. How kitchen items could get so dusty in the cupboards was beyond his comprehension.

Before he could reach the door, Gail was inside the foyer, stomping the snow off her feet. With her were her two constant corgi companions. “When you didn’t come right away, I let myself in. You know, you need to change the spare key hiding spot. Keeping it under the doormat is so 1950s.”