The Mason List (37 page)

“Just add
it on to Sprayberry?”

He
reached up, running his fingers through his soft, black hair.  “I don’t know. 
It has been Triple L as long as most can remember.  I might keep it separate. 
It’s a big decision though.   I’m already strugglin’ with what I got.”

I felt
the stress oozing from his body.  He was different than the carefree boy I’d
left behind at Sprayberry.  This man felt the weight of the world driving him
along, pushing and pulling alongside a cliff.  Lifting my head from his strong
shoulder, I peered into the familiar face.  “You’ve changed.”

“I
have?”  The eyebrows furrowed up.

“Not in a
bad way.”  I touched his cheek, feeling the stubble under my index finger. 
“I’ve known you for so long, I guess you just feel different.  It’s a good
different.  I know it’s hard, but it makes you happy, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,”
his lips turned into a wry grin on the corners that faded into a little laugh,
“Happy as a gambler who won a three-tit hooker.”

“What?”

“Frank. 
Gotta love the nasty old bastard,” he chuckled, letting out another yawn.  His
eyes seemed heavy as he leaned his head back on my wall.  I nestled myself
against his side.  “The Bar got pool tables and some coffee shop couches. 
Ernie’s tryin’ to upscale the place I guess.  I’ve been there some with Buzz.”

“Buzz is
back?”

“I
thought you’d heard.  He blew out a knee his second year at West Palo.  He was
picked up by Tech before it happened too.  Shitty luck, I guess.  He went off
the grid after that and worked as a rough neck down in the Gulf.  He got tired
of living on the rigs and came back lookin’ for a job.  Buzz said he missed
Arlis.  Oh, and he goes by Bobby now.  You’ll have to see him before you
leave.  I hired him to work at Sprayberry.”

“Buzz
goes by Bobby and he works for you?”

“Yup. 
Still gettin’ use to usin’ his real name too.”  He let out a big yawn, drowning
out the last works.  “Ashley’s back too you know.  She’s got a kid.”

“No!  She
has a child?  Like, she’s a mother?”

“Yup. 
Little girl.”

“She doesn’t
look anything like you, right?”

“You just
like bein’ nasty don’t you.  She’s not tellin’ anyone who the father is.  I
don’t think he’s from here.  She just showed up with the baby.  She’s workin’
at the hospital as a nurse too.”

“Wow.  I
just can’t see her as a nurse.  That would require Ashley to actually be nice.”

“It has
been a long time, you know.  My dad says she’s not too bad.  I haven’t seen her
yet.”  His boots hit the wood floor as he stood up.  My chest tightened. 
Jess
was leaving.
  The clock arms turned at warp speed this visit.  One blink
and I would board a plane.  One blink and he would be gone for another year or
more. 

“You
leaving?”

“Nah.” 
Jess pulled off his shirt. “I’m stayin’.”

“Wha…what
are you doing?” I tried not to look, feeling my cheeks turn red.  His body had
changed into a more filled-out adult version of himself, with a center patch of
dark chest hair.  In a few more years, Jess would be the mirror image of Dr.
Mason; most considered him an attractive man stuck with the perpetual boyish
face.  Jess would look even better, with the smile of that ornery boy frozen in
time.  And as he grew older, that pair of blue eyes would still shine like
sunbeams from a pile of wrinkled skin.

“I’m
exhausted.  I think I’ve been awake for ‘bout thirty hours, and before that, we
worked cattle for several days straight.”  Each boot came off, and he lined
them next to my bed. “I stayed up takin’ care of one last night.  Prolapsed
uterus and lots of blood.  She pulled through.”

“Guess
you have learned something.” 

“Guess I
have.  I lost two the other day though.  Coyote pack took ‘em down.”  He
dropped his jeans, leaving just his blue plaid boxers.  He knew I was looking
at him and gave me a wink.  I rolled my eyes back at him shaking my head
no
. 
“Come on, Al.  It’s not like your Dad’s here to kick me out this time.  How old
were we?  Twelve or thirteen?”

“Thirteen.”

“I never
saw him get worked up ‘bout us too many times.  But that night.  Damn.  He
looked like he was goin’ to explode.  He threw my duffle bag right out your
window.  I stood there confused as shit.”

“Dad had
taken me to buy tampons that day and freaked out.  Then he tried to give me
some kind of sex talk.”

“Betcha
just turned bright red.”

“No,
jerk.”  I frowned, throwing my pillow toward his head.  He ducked and the
fluffy square hit my desk instead.  A book fell, vibrating off the wood floor
while the graduation picture teetered on the edge.  Distracted, I didn't see
Jess grab the pillow for a quick hit to my face, smothering me down against the
bed.  I screamed into the fabric as he let go, laughing so close I could smell
his brushed teeth.

“So
what’d he say ‘bout me?” 

“Nothing. 
He just said you couldn’t stay anymore and then kicked your stupid ass out like
I’m about to.” 

“You
can’t kick my ass.   And you know what happens when you try.”  Jess climbed on
the bed next to me and held the pillow up like a threat.  He smiled with
humorous eyes racked in fatigue.  I felt a tightening in my chest as I watched
my friend.  I had missed him more that I could even put into words.

“Maybe
I’ve gotten better at it while I was gone.”

“Doubt
it.” Letting go of the pillow, Jess lifted the blanket up, exposing my bare
legs sticking out from under his shirt.  He reached over and pulled the hem down
to cover my panties from being exposed.  His face grew serious.  “Tell me to go
and I will.” 

“Don’t
go.” Nothing inside of me could look into that sweet face and tell him to
leave.  I moved to the edge letting Jess slide between me and the wall.  Under
the faded purple comforter, his body fit snug against my back and curved around
my butt.  I reached up and turned off the lamp, bathing the room with only
moonlight.  I relaxed into the steady beat of his heart against my shoulder
blades. 

“You
still smell like peaches.”  

“You just
want me to smell like peaches.”  I smiled in the darkness, feeling his left
hand settle in the center of my stomach over my belly button.  Our feet
intertwined, making the cold stiffness of my toes melt into his skin.  Our
bones settled and our muscles relaxed. 

“I hate
workin’ all day and crawlin’ into bed alone,” he whispered into my hair.  “It’s
a sad feelin’ bein’ here sometimes.  It makes me miss you.  It only feels right
when you’re here too.”

“Maybe
this isn’t a good idea, Jess.”  I tried to move away, but his biceps grew
tighter into a bear hug, clutching me to his chest. 

“Please
stay.  I just want to lay next to you tonight.  Feel you beside me.  Hold you. 
I need this, Al.”  His heart beat faster through the fabric of my shirt.  I
needed to say no.  Staying with him was a very bad idea.

“Ok.”

He
released his tight grasp, letting his fingers graze over my arms.  They skimmed
across my breasts and settled into a comfortable embrace back over my stomach. 
His breath felt warm against my neck.  I fought the internal struggle and
relaxed against his chest again.  He felt too damn good.

“Tell me
about Paris,” Jess whispered in my hair.

My eyes
darted to the old poster that was tacked to the wall with the yellowed tape; the
one I had stared at night after night in this very bed.  That picture failed to
give it justice.  “It’s beautiful.”

“More
than Sprayberry?”

“Different
than Sprayberry.” I thought about all the days I had spent wondering around the
city; all the places I traveled.  “I like the buildings.  They’re so incredibly
old.  The history is just different when you walk down the streets.  You see it
and feel it in an entirely different way.”

“I don’t
even know all the places you’ve been.”

“Mainly
Paris.  I saw Marseille.  I took a train down to Avignon and Nice.  Italy was
so incredible.  I loved Florence and Rome.  A few months ago, I flew over and
spent a weekend in London.  I took a bus out to Stonehenge.  I sent you
postcards.”

“I
know.”  I felt his breath settle into the folds of my hair.  “I kept ‘em all.”

“I draw
bridges now.”

“What
makes you do that?”

“I don’t
know.  Something about them being so large and vacant I guess.  Even with all
the people, they exist as lonely giants towering over everything.” Just like
me, but I kept that part out.  “Parc Monceau has this little red one.  I must
have sketched it twenty different times, from twenty different spots.” I felt
his hand link through my fingers and rub over my knuckles as if he imagined the
pencil clasped there in frantic motion. 

“Parc dec
Buttes Chaumont has this waterfall.  They made it I think, but it’s still
beautiful shoved in the middle of a city.  A white marble gazebo looks over the
water.  It’s not a really a gazebo like the ones in Texas.  They call it
Temple
de la Sibylle
.  There’s a cement bridge sticking out of the rocks.  I’ve
never seen anything like it.  So I had to put it down on paper.”

“I like
hearin’ you talk about it.  Makes me know that you’re happy there.  I can hear
it in your voice.”

With his
arms wrapped around my body, his words made me feel sad, not blissfully content
the way Jess imagined.  The thoughts caused me to pause for a moment before
continuing with the story he wanted to hear.  I talked of Gustave Eiffel’s
suspension bridge and the one dubbed the suicide plunge.  My voice grew faint
with Montmartre Hill and Luxemburg Gardens.  His breath grew shallow against my
ear as I described every inch of the Louvre Museum. 

Our
bodies breathed the same, they breathed together, but I think they always did. 
Listening to Jess sleep, a peaceful feeling came over my body and whisked me
away into my own dreams.  A night full of haunting images flashed like
snapshots from my subconscious; a colorful strobe of pictures very far from
Paris.

I dreamed
of the meadow full of green grass.  The wind brushed my face.  I heard the
sound of laughter as I looked over my shoulder.  A dark-haired boy tackled me
to the ground.  A set of blue eyes stared down at me with a wink.  I smiled,
feeling his lips press against my skin. 

The
intensity of the need for him spread through my body.  I clung to the secret
hidden images, never wanting them to stop.  His hand teased up my leg and over
my knee.  His fingers spread across the smooth skin of my thighs.  I wanted
this.  I wanted him.  He pulled the hem of my shirt slowly over my head.

I was
naked beneath him as he kissed me.  It felt incredible.  His mouth tugged at my
bottom lip.  He slipped his tongue over mine, leaving a sweet, minty trail.  A
warmth spread through my body, alerting my mind; making me more awake, more
aware with each kiss that I wasn’t in some dream.  I blinked back into his blue
eyes, watching me from my childhood bed.

“Is this
real?”  I whispered.

“Yeah.” 
His lips moved over my bare skin. “You still think ‘bout it, don’t you?”

I was
having a hard time staying focused as his mouth touched my right breast.  My
breath caught in my lungs. “We were supposed to forget.”

He lifted
his eyes and watched my face.  “I never was much good at forgettin’ you.  I
thought ‘bout us every day that you were gone.  I thought ‘bout how this would
feel.”

Those
words broke through the shreds of my reserve.  I wanted to see Jess tonight,
but I needed to feel him too.  Placing a hand on each side of his cheeks, I
looked into his sweet face.  The sincere admission caved whatever was left of
right or wrong.  I kissed him.  I kissed him hard, giving him everything I
could in that moment.

“Alex.  I
just want you to know.  There hasn’t been anyone else,” he whispered the faint
words against my lips. 

I had no
right to feel happy, but the emotions twisted up through my chest. “Me either.”

“No?”
Jess seemed relieved.

“No,” I
whispered.  Wrapping my legs around his hips, I pulled his warm body as tight
as I could against my bare skin.  Nothing would ever compare to the way it felt
like to really be us.  My nails dug into his shoulders with every movement. 
His warm breath spread across my neck with each gasp; a frenzy of lost time
ending almost before it started.  As the moonlight came through my bedroom
window, the second time lingered more like the drip of sweet honey as I slipped
into another beautiful and hazy memory of being completely consumed by Jess.

We kept
going until he collapsed asleep, with me draped across his body.  I heard the
peaceful sound of his steady heart beating against my ear.  In the morning, the
guilt would eat away like acid into undeniable regret.  Tonight, I pushed it
away.  Tonight, my dream was real.  I drifted off to sleep, with my cheek against
the soft patch of curls in the center of his chest, and his hand resting in a
possessive embrace over my bare hip.