by Tia Fielding
“Coffee?” Dad asked, and went to the machine.
Wyatt nodded, and balled his apron up in his hands.
Maybe caffeine would help jolt him awake again, force him to break the surface. He leaned against the counter while Dad got the coffee machine started, and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he ached, and he missed Izzy. And maybe that was stupid because they barely knew each other, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t real. He and Izzy were supposed to be figuring things out together. Wyatt wasn’t meant to be doing it on his own.
“I talked to Harper last night,” Dad said. “She’s gonna try to come down for a visit.”
Wyatt opened his eyes.
“She misses you,” Dad said.
Wyatt missed her too. His fierce, outspoken in-your-face older sister. She’d always had his back, from the moment he was born. He wondered what she’d think of him now.
Dad set a coffee down beside him. “You hungry?”
Wyatt shook his head.
“Not even for quiche?” Dad asked. It was hardly a quick breakfast food, but Dad’s recipe had been one Wyatt’s favorites since he was a little kid.
Wyatt wasn’t hungry though. He shook his head.
Dad stood in front of him, and put his hands on Wyatt’s shoulders. “Kiddo, do you even know what you’re doing?”
No. Story of his fucking life.
“Wyatt, I’ve asked you a bunch of questions, and you haven’t answered a single one,” Dad said. His dark eyes were crinkled with worry. “Not verbally, at least. Can you talk to me, please? Can you say something?”
Wyatt held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away and shook his head.
Maybe he just didn’t have anything to say.
* * * *
Dad’s worry hung over the house like a pall for the rest of the day while Wyatt curled up on his bed and watched cooking shows on his laptop. He thought of Izzy, just over the road at the greenhouses, and wished he had the courage to go and see him there. But the thought of Justin finding out, and of Izzy losing his job for it, was enough to quell that idea.
Wyatt had never been the bad kid. He’d never been the rebellious one. He’d never been the sort of kid that Dad and Justin stayed up late at night fretting about. Harper had had her moments there, and so had Lettie, but Wyatt had always been too introverted to actually go out and get in any trouble. It turned out though that he hadn’t had to go far at all to find trouble, had he? He’d found it very close to home.
That’s what Dad and Justin thought, at least, but Izzy wasn’t trouble. Not like that. Izzy…Izzy liked Wyatt, and maybe even more than that.
“I’m sorry Wy, I love you but I won’t put you into danger.”
I love you.
I love you.
Wyatt’s eyes stung.
He got off his bed and walked to the window. He remembered the day he’d looked out to see Izzy arriving, and thought he’d looked like a rock star. He remembered Izzy saying that Wyatt should leave his window open for him, and all the fantasies that Wyatt had spun from that, about him and Izzy in his bed. Wyatt looked down toward the road, following the curve of the driveway past the pond, and over toward the greenhouses. He couldn’t see anything from here, but the thought that Izzy was so close and yet out of Wyatt’s reach was painful. It seemed cruel, and Justin had never been cruel before. And Wyatt understood, at least partly. He understood that Justin thought Izzy was a bad influence on him because that was exactly the persona that Izzy wore proudly. Except it also wasn’t fair, because Justin was always the guy who’d seen past that in everyone else, and the only reason he couldn’t do it with Izzy was because he knew Izzy and Wyatt had been together.
Wyatt wasn’t a little kid anymore. He didn’t need Justin to protect him from the big bad world, at least not like this. And okay, yeah, he’d always been anxious, always been more fragile that his peers, more likely to break instead of bending, and he’d always liked that Justin and Dad kept him safe, but he’d been brave with Izzy. He’d been so brave he’d shocked himself, and he didn’t want Justin to wrap him up in cotton wool now, not when he finally knew how good it felt to be without it. Still terrifying, yes, but liberating too. He’d seen and been seen, and Izzy loved him.
Wyatt wanted to feel brave again, but he couldn’t go to the greenhouses, not when Izzy would get in trouble for it, and certainly not to the trailers where there was no cover story in the world that would excuse why he was really there.
Wyatt went downstairs and headed for the front door.
“Wy?” Dad called.
Wyatt turned and found Dad standing in the hallway behind him.
“Where are you going?”
Wyatt shrugged.
“No, kiddo,” Dad said. “I’m sorry, but I’m gonna need you to use your words for this.”
Wyatt swallowed. “Just a walk.”
“Just a walk,” Dad repeated. “Not to see Izzy?”
Wyatt shook his head.
Dad looked at him, his face etched with worry. “And you’ll be back soon from this walk?”
Wyatt wrinkled his nose. What did Dad think he was going to do? A mountain trek or something? “What?”
“You’re coming home soon from this walk, aren’t you?” Dad asked him, stepping closer. “You’re not running away, and you’re not planning on hurting yourself, are you?”
Wyatt felt a rush of dizziness. “What? No!”
Dad closed his eyes briefly, as though in relief. “Because when you don’t talk to me, Wy, when you don’t tell me what’s going on in your head, I worry, okay? I think the worst, and I worry.”
“I’m not running away,” Wyatt said. He didn’t even have his backpack. “And I’m not…I’m not going to hurt myself!”
There was something a little humiliating about Dad even asking that question, even though he knew it came from a place of love, and Wyatt squirmed under Dad’s careful scrutiny.
“I’m not,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t do that, Dad.”
“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that?” Dad asked him gently.
Wyatt nodded, his eyes stinging.
“Okay,” Dad said, and opened his arms. Wyatt stepped into the hug without even thinking about it. Dad’s arms had always been the safest place in the world. “Okay. Love you, Wy.”
“Love you too,” Wyatt mumbled into his shirt.
“And…” Dad leaned back to look at him. “And Justin loves you too.”
Wyatt bristled, even though he knew it was the truth. He nodded and scowled, and felt like the bratty little kid he never had been. “I just…” He sighed. “I just wish he’d listen, Dad. He’s only treating Izzy like this because of me! If it was anyone else—”
“Kiddo, if it was anyone else Justin would have made him leave the second he saw he was high,” Dad said. “Yeah, he’s treating Izzy differently because you were involved with him, but he’s also given him leeway he wouldn’t have given anyone else. It’s complicated, Wy. Justin’s doing his best, but he’s struggling here too. Can you try to be patient with him while he works through this?”
“But it’s not fair,” Wyatt whispered. “Izzy’s not a bad guy.”
“Can you be patient?” Dad asked.
Wyatt thought of how Dad was somehow stuck in the middle here, and how it wasn’t fair on him either. He swallowed and then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Thank you,” Dad said. “We’ll figure something out, kiddo, once everyone can move without stepping all over each other’s feelings.”
When will that be? Wyatt wanted to ask, but he kept his mouth shut again, because he knew Dad wouldn’t be able to answer that.
* * * *
It was late afternoon when Wyatt made his way to the small rocky outcrop that was his special place. He sat on the same wide rock he always did, and soaked in the warmth. Maybe if he sat here long enough, it’d seep into his bones and kill the sick, cold feeling that had been festering inside him since Izzy had walked out the door.
He stared down t
he tree-covered hillside, past the dirt road, and his gaze settled on the roof of the neighbor’s shed. There was a bird perched on the roof. It was too far away for Wyatt to make out more than a hint of movement as it bobbed along the edge of the roof, but he thought that maybe it was some kind of pigeon or dove. He wondered if it was nesting there, and hoped, if it was, that it was building a sturdy one.
His thoughts flew back to Oregon, to the family they’d been before Justin came back, and before they met Dad. When it was just him and Harper and Lettie and Mom. And whatever guy Mom was seeing at the time. She’d had a string of boyfriends. Most of them had been dealers too, Wyatt figured now, though he hadn’t known any different then. Lots of Mom’s friends were dealers or users of some sort. Wyatt couldn’t remember their faces. He only knew that it hadn’t been strange at all to climb out of bed in the morning and find a house full of people sleeping last night off.
And then Mom had died, and Justin had come back. Wyatt didn’t remember that much either. Justin had been just another stranger to him back then. It was Dad he remembered, because Dad had been different. Dad had been warm and kind, and he’d got down on Wyatt’s level to talk to him, and he hadn’t minded when Wyatt hadn’t talked back. He’d taught Wyatt to cook, and the rattle of pans was one of the most comforting sounds in Wyatt’s world, then and now.
But Justin…Justin had been nineteen, the same age Wyatt was now, and he must have been terrified. Maybe not in the same way that Wyatt was, but nineteen years old and suddenly having three kids to look after? Wyatt couldn’t have done that. And Justin had always filled this strange place in Wyatt’s life—part brother, part parent—and maybe Wyatt had never quite realized the weight of the parent part. He knew Justin loved him—he’d never doubted that for a second—but he’d never seen Justin and Dad at odds before when it came to protecting him. They’d always been a united front, right up until now. Dad had always been more likely to go into what Harper called ‘protective papa bear mode’ than Justin, and maybe Wyatt had mistaken that for thinking it was because Justin was his brother, when really he was just as much his parent as Dad was.
Wyatt sat on the rock as the sun dipper lower in the sky and the shadows lengthened into dusk.
He just wished Justin could see Izzy the same way that he did.
“I’m stupid, everyone knows I’m stupid. I’ve been told that all my life.”
Wyatt’s chest felt tight, and his throat ached with tears. Izzy wasn’t stupid. He’d made some bad decisions, made some mistakes, but who hadn’t? And he was trying so hard to turn his life around. And Justin saw that in every other one of his workers, so why couldn’t he see it in Izzy?
He hoped that Dad was right and Justin just needed time. But what was Wyatt supposed to do in the meantime, when all he wanted to do was be with Izzy and his heart was breaking?
He bowed his head as tears slid down his cheeks.
And then he heard boots crunching on the ground behind him.
Chapter 18
Justin had let him stay and work at Abbot Organics. There were new rules, one including “and stay the hell away from my brother!”
Mrs. Rossi had waited until Justin went back inside before hugging the life out of Izzy and telling him to have faith that the universe was done fucking him over—her words, not his—and that good things would come. He just needed patience, she’d said.
He’d driven back to the trailer and unpacked his stuff. He assumed his work schedule was still the one he’d had before last night, so he didn’t contact anyone.
Izzy went to bed instead and tried to sleep, but sleep didn’t come. Eventually, Sam got off work.
“Izzy?” he called, sounding so fucking happy that Izzy felt a bit choked up.
“In here.” His voice was raspy, and it wasn’t until then that he realized he’d been quietly crying all fucking afternoon. He didn’t want to examine why exactly that was, he wasn’t ready to.
“You get to keep your job?” Sam asked, trying to get a read of him.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why are you…” Sam didn’t seem to find a suitable adjective, so he gestured at Izzy instead.
“Can’t go to the house or see Wyatt.”
“Oh, I see.” Sam sighed, then turned around. “I’m going to make something to eat. For you too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Sam repeated, sighed again, and went to cook.
* * * *
Izzy kept his head down. He worked his ass off, harder than before if that was possible. He didn’t talk to people like he used to, he just kept his head down and made a point of not giving anyone a reason to doubt his abilities as a worker.
One morning, he was moving some tomato boxes from the greenhouse with the bees. Patty was there with him, picking one of the boxes to take to the stall because she’d sold everything she had already.
“Izzy,” she said suddenly, and he glanced at her. “Don’t move.”
There was a bee walking on his shoulder.
Izzy stood there, looking at the creature that might sting him and kill him, and felt…nothing. He watched as Patty coaxed the bee onto a tomato leaf she picked from the closest vine and took it away from him.
“You have your EpiPen, right?” she asked worriedly, and he patted the thigh pocket of his work pants, ready to say yes of course, but…it wasn’t there. She must’ve read his expression, because she looked so sad for a moment. “Oh, Izzy.”
Feeling uncomfortable, he picked up the boxes he was supposed to be moving and left the greenhouse with them. He didn’t need or want her pity or her sadness. He just wanted to be left alone.
* * * *
For some reason Izzy and Wyatt had never exchanged phone numbers. Maybe it was because they were on the same property all the time. It didn’t cross their minds to text each other, because they could walk to the other side of the road and just meet.
Except now they couldn’t, and Izzy was…he didn’t know. Everything felt muted. Like color had been washed out of the world, if he wanted to get poetic about it.
He didn’t know what Wyatt thought of all of this. He’d begged for Izzy to not go, but not going hadn’t been an option. Sure, they were both adults, but Justin was Izzy’s boss and Wyatt’s parent and, yeah. Wasn’t like he blamed Wyatt. It wasn’t like he even blamed Justin. Wyatt deserved better.
Every evening, Izzy looked at the list on their fridge door that told him what time he needed to be at work the next day. He went to work, came back to the trailer, barely ate because nothing tasted good, checked his schedule, and went to bed.
Sam kept giving him worried looks, but Izzy couldn’t muster the energy to try and calm his friend.
Days linked together, but he couldn’t really say which day it was, unless you’d asked him in that ten-minute window just after he checked the schedule each night.
One day, instead of going back to the trailer, he decided to walk a little. He didn’t feel like it, but something was calling him to move instead of sit still inside his bedroom.
His feet took the familiar route along the path he’d walked several times since the first day he met Wyatt. Wyatt. Izzy hadn’t thought he’d ever meet someone as incredible as Wyatt, let alone have someone like him be interested in Izzy. And he’d had Wyatt for a while, seen how it could be when you truly found someone who felt like everything good in the world.
Izzy wiped his cheeks. His eyes were leaking again.
Maybe it was just another proof of stupidity. That he’d thought anything good could come from this. That’s he’d be allowed to have someone as good as Wyatt.
He swallowed to ease the feeling of nausea he felt suddenly. He barely lifted his gaze from his work boots as he traced the old route to the lookout spot.
“Izzy.”
Izzy froze and looked up. Wyatt was standing awkwardly in their spot.
Izzy didn’t know what to say. S
uddenly his heart was trying to bounce its way out through his throat. He didn’t know what to do, either.
He tried to figure out what to do, whether he should turn around and flee or to go closer. He couldn’t read Wyatt’s face then, familiar as it was by now.
“Izzy,” Wyatt repeated. His hand twitched forward, as if he knew Izzy was about to run.
It was that small gesture that broke something inside him.
With an animalistic sound, Izzy strode forward and then they were hugging, clinging to each other and crying their eyes out.
It was as if time stopped and nothing mattered but standing there with Wyatt in his arms, clutching him back just as tightly.
After some time, Izzy couldn’t have told how long, they separated enough to look at each other from the close distance.
Wyatt looked awful. He was still the most beautiful person Izzy had ever seen, but now he looked gaunt, as if he hadn’t been eating either. There were dark shadows under his eyes that seemed to have lost some of their shine.
Izzy closed the gap between their faces and kissed Wyatt gently, as if he’d break otherwise. Wyatt clung to the front of Izzy’s smudged work shirt and kissed him back the same way.
Finally, they moved to sit on the ground, Wyatt easily straddling Izzy’s thighs so they could be as close together as possible.
“I don’t think I can be without you,” Izzy murmured quietly. The words scared him, and he supposed they would scare Wyatt, too.
Wyatt nodded against his shoulder where he’d burrowed himself as soon as they’d settled down.
“I know,” he whispered. “I can’t be without you, either.”
“None of this makes any sense,” Izzy stroked Wyatt’s back, wanting to feel him as much as possible. “How can we…” He trailed off, not knowing how the sentence ended.
“Feels right, though.”
“Yes, yes it does.” He hadn’t felt this complete since the before that night. Everything made sense again. He could hear the birds and look at the nature around them and truly see it.
“What do we do?” Wyatt asked, leaning back so he could look at Izzy.
“I guess we wait. Maybe Justin will calm down?” It was the only hope they had, if you didn’t count running away and Izzy refused to do that to any of the Abbots, Wyatt included.