Hurricane Reese

by R. L. Merrill

  Nope. Jude was going to find a job and a room to rent. He’d been on his own for years. He could handle his own business.

  But Jude couldn’t walk away from Mr. Matheson. He’d become like Jude’s own grandfather. When he was having moments of clarity, they walked along the beach, and he sang to Jude and told him stories. He’d given Jude life advice that he found priceless. His own parents had been summoned back to the Philippines to care for his paternal grandparents, and they’d left him on his own at twenty.

  Thankfully he’d finished a two-year Nursing Assistant program so he could support himself. Living with Mr. Matheson meant he could continue to take online courses toward his nursing degree and help financially with his younger siblings. It hadn’t meant saving money.

  “I’ll help you on one condition,” he said to Reese.

  “Anything.”

  It was a bit evil to make Reese promise him anything while he was frantically looking for his grandfather, but it was nonnegotiable.

  “When we get him back, we do things my way.”

  Jude heard cursing on the other end of the line and what sounded like Reese fumbling with the phone.

  “Fine. Meet me at the house. Please, Jude. I’m so worried.”

  That melted his heart a little.

  “On my way.”

  Chapter Three

  REESE PACED frantically in front of the cottage. The past week had been exhausting and his sleep deprivation was a serious hindrance. Grandpa was much worse off than he’d originally thought. Jude had left lists of medications and routines that could have easily been for an entire hospital. Reese was never very good at keeping schedules. Even on the road, he had to be constantly reminded by the tour manager where he was supposed to be and when. Grandpa was up during the night several times, trying to get out the door. Once he even got as far as the back gate to the property, which led down to the beach. Reese had called an alarm company, but they couldn’t come out for another several weeks. Turned out that was too late.

  It would be hell admitting to Jude that he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Something about the young man put him off his game. He was so damned intense all the time. Reese had visited many times over the past two years, and always admired the quiet way Jude entered the room, gave Grandpa his medicine, and breezed right out without even disturbing anything. By contrast Reese moved like a hurricane, wreaked havoc with his crazy energy and enthusiasm, and then left the place a disaster in his wake. It was probably one of the many reasons his relationship with Jada hadn’t worked out.

  When Reese asked him how Grandpa was doing during these visits, Jude always started with the positives and then said, “His disease will worsen, so it’s important he stay on a routine. It will be easier for him that way.” His gentle voice sounded older than a twenty-two-year old’s should. It made Reese wonder why a young man would take on a job that basically required round-the-clock care. When Reese was his age, he’d been living the fraternity life at UC Santa Bonita, surfing, and making music with his friends.

  A beat-up Pathfinder parked at the curb, and Reese felt his stomach clench. He hated the way he’d left things with Jude. He hadn’t meant to waltz in and disrupt everything, but he really thought he should finally step up and take care of his beloved grandfather. He’d been trying to figure out how best to apologize when Jude climbed out of the cab of his truck and rendered Reese speechless for a moment. He almost forgot the purpose for the younger man’s visit. Jude moved with a purpose, every step graceful and efficient. Reese watched as Jude lifted his chin and sucked in a breath as he walked toward him.

  “Did you check the pool hall?” Jude called out. “The senior center? Have you called Lefty and Harry?”

  Jude passed right by him and into the house, his sturdy frame covered in worn scrubs. Reese had only ever seen him dressed that way. It made him wonder what Jude did with the rest of his life. And if he were in scrubs, perhaps he’d already found another job, which could be a good thing for Reese’s guilt, a bad thing if he wasn’t able to help.

  “I called Lefty. He said he hadn’t seen Grandpa since Tuesday when we met him for coffee. Harry didn’t answer his phone. And did you say pool hall? I don’t know any—”

  “The one downtown. I doubt he could have walked it. Did you check your phone to see if he called a cab? He tried that once with me when I wouldn’t take him out at night. The guys have a room in the back at Lucky’s where they play cards every Thursday. Perhaps he was confused and went down there. What time did you say you woke up?”

  Shit. “About ten I think? I don’t know. He’s been getting up at night. I was up with him last night around three, and then I couldn’t sleep so I was working on music, and—”

  “And you didn’t hear him leave,” Jude finished, irritated. “Let me go down to the pool hall.”

  “I’ll grab a coat and come with you,” Reese said as Jude headed for the door. He hurried into his room, which had clothes strewn all over. He tossed piles around until he found a hoodie. Then he dashed into the short hallway as he pulled it over his head and crashed into something. Or someone.

  “Oh, Jesus. Jude, I’m sorry.”

  Jude stood holding a hand to his head with his eyes closed as though he were taking cleansing breaths for patience.

  “It’s fine, Mr. Matheson. I was going to say—”

  “Please. Call me Reese. Look, Jude, I’m sorry. I really thought—”

  “Let’s go. He’ll be hungry soon, and if no one is there to bring him food, he’ll wander.”

  Jude turned on his heel and left the cottage. Reese cursed his clumsiness as he watched Jude walk away. He’d run right over the poor guy so many times. How could he ever get into his good graces?

  Chapter Four

  JUDE WAS trying really hard not to lose his cool, but the infuriating man would not get out of his way. Reese insisted on driving, which meant he was practically touching Jude in the front seat of his sporty electric car. His long arm stretched past the steering wheel, and his other one rested on the back of Jude’s seat as he was driving. He kept leaning close to Jude to look out the passenger window. Jude leaned back in his seat and tried to breathe.

  “I’ve never even heard him talk about this place.”

  Lucky’s was a short drive from the cottage, just over the border into Santa Monica. Jude had been taking Mr. Matheson there weekly to meet his friends for two hours every Thursday for the past year. He’d included that in the instructions he left for Reese, of course. Apparently he hadn’t paid attention. And why did he have to smell so good? Reese leaned across him once more to look around, and Jude sucked in a breath. He said a silent prayer for his sanity.

  “The card game moved here from Lefty’s bar when he sold it. Mostly they eat the popcorn and peanuts, hassle the young waitresses, and play cards in the back room. Your grandfather tends to bet too much money and then forget how much he bet, and then there’s a big fuss. Hopefully things aren’t out of control.”

  Just then a police car pulled up, thankfully with no lights or sirens. Reese and Jude watched in horror as two officers walked into Lucky’s. Through the window they could see the bartender pointing toward the back.

  “Oh, shit,” Jude whispered as he let himself out of the car. Jude felt Reese hulking behind him as they entered the room. The bartender, a thirtysomething blonde named Darla, shook her head and offered a sad smile. Jude greeted her with a kiss to her cheek.

  “So glad to see you, Jude. I’m sorry I had to call the cops, but things got out of hand today.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ll take care of it,” Jude said to the woman he’d befriended in his many trips there. She’d always helped keep an eye on Mr. Matheson, especially if Jude had to leave him for a bit to pick up medications or whatnot.

  Darla glanced at Reese curiously as she continued to clean up. Jude thanked her and walked through the pool tables toward a doorway covered in drapes. Shouting could be heard from inside.

  “M
r. Matheson, if you don’t calm down, I’m going to be forced to handcuff you and put you in the back of my squad car. Now, can we please settle this?”

  “Settle this?”

  Jude flinched as his former charge shouted, pointed his finger at his best friend, and shook it vigorously. “This bastard ain’t gonna call me no cheat and get away with it. I’ll show you how we used to settle things back in Jersey.”

  “Mr. Matheson,” Jude said softly. Though his voice was considerably lower than all the shouting, Mr. Matheson stopped arguing.

  “Jude,” Mr. Matheson said, and most of the fight bled out of him. He looked hurt and confused more than anything. “Tell these sons of bitches that I don’t welsh. Tell them.”

  Jude hurried to his side, put a hand on his arm, and gently coaxed him to take a seat. Mr. Matheson still wore his slippers and pajama pants with a sweater, a blazer, and a fedora. He brought a shaky hand up to steady his hat and glared at the cops.

  “I’m sorry, officers. I’m Reese Matheson. Thomas is my grandfather.” Reese sidestepped Jude and approached the officers with his hand extended. The officers’ faces lit up as they shook the celebrity’s hand. Reese pulled them off to the side and left Jude to deal with his confused grandfather.

  “Mr. Matheson, you left home without waking Reese. He’s been very worried about you.”

  “That boy sleeps all day. I can’t wait around for him. I called a cab. You should be the one taking me to my places. Why weren’t you there this morning?”

  Jude had already explained to Mr. Matheson that his grandson would be caring for him. He’d understood at the time.

  “I just want to go home. I can’t believe they think I stiffed them. I always pay my debts.”

  Lefty, the former gangster, now “retired businessman,” came over and placed a hand on Mr. Matheson’s shoulder.

  “Now, Tommy, you can’t be coming in here betting these high amounts without no money on ya. It ain’t right, and these guys ain’t gonna take too kindly to being stiffed.”

  Jude swallowed hard. “How much does he owe, Mr. Mancuso?”

  Lefty glanced between Jude and Mr. Matheson and sighed. He knew exactly why Mr. Matheson was confused and had been incredibly patient. But it seemed his patience had run out. “I’ll take care of it, but you see to it that he ain’t here without his stake, you got me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Reese wandered over, and the police left, autographs in hand, no doubt. Jude wanted to ream him for letting the situation get out of hand. Reese had no idea that his grandfather played some serious cards with those old guys, and most of them had all of their faculties. They knew exactly how much Mr. Matheson was in for.

  “Hey, Grandpa. You scared me this morning.”

  Mr. Matheson gave him a blank look and turned to Jude. “I think I’m ready to go home now.”

  Jude helped him to his feet and supported his weight when he suddenly seemed very weak. He likely hadn’t eaten since the night before, and it was going on two o’clock in the afternoon.

  “Grandpa, how about we—”

  Jude shot Reese a look over his shoulder that shut him up. He almost felt sympathetic when Reese’s handsome face fell like a kid being told he was grounded. The man-child had no comprehension of the severity of the situation.

  The drive back to the cottage by the sea was quiet. Mr. Matheson hummed an old Sinatra tune to himself. Jude had become versed in the classics from the Rat Pack era while he lived with him. Thomas Matheson had been friends with those men after he left the Navy and moved to Las Vegas from New Jersey in the 1960s. He’d played with big bands in the casinos and became the go-to guy for the crooners when they needed a fantastic pianist. Thomas could sing and play anything, and he’d done it for hours with Jude as his biggest fan.

  Reese had learned at his knee and made a career for himself as a singer-songwriter. He sold out shows all across the country, had been nominated for a Grammy, and had even won a Tony for work he’d done co-writing an original Broadway musical. Jude knew all about the younger Matheson’s career, as his grandfather bragged endlessly about him. The two were close, and very much alike—exactly why Jude knew the arrangement for Mr. Matheson’s care would never work. Reese was a wonderfully generous man and extremely charismatic, but he didn’t have the discipline it took to care for a man with his grandfather’s needs.

  Reese pulled up in front of the cottage, and Jude immediately hopped out of the back seat to assist Mr. Matheson. Reese started to come around, but Jude waved him toward the door.

  “If you can let us in, please,” he said in his calmest voice. “I think Mr. Matheson could use some supper and then take a nice nap.”

  “That sounds fantastic, Jude my boy. How about them noodles you make for me? I miss them noodles.”

  “Of course, Mr. Matheson. You come inside and have a seat in your recliner. I’ll have the soup ready in no time.”

  REESE WATCHED helplessly. He sat across from Grandpa and tried to ask him what happened, but Grandpa dozed in his chair. Reese covered him with a blanket—the fall afternoon was chilly on the Southern California coast. It was the most beautiful time of the year. The sun showed off grandly after hiding behind the stubborn fog the past few weeks, and Reese wished he could pull on his wetsuit, paddle out into the waves, and let all of his stress from the past week flow away. At least he could breathe easier with Jude there taking care of things.

  Jude. Lord, how that young man handled everything like a pro. His grandfather had fought him at every turn, but Grandpa did everything Jude asked with a smile and a nod. He had a magic touch. Reese wondered what it was about him that tamed his larger-than-life grandfather. He wanted to know him, wanted to understand where that magic came from.

  The delicious smell coming from the kitchen reminded Reese that he too had gone without food. He turned the corner and watched Jude cut up vegetables and fry some shrimp in a skillet that crackled and popped next to a pot with boiling water.

  “Your grandfather loves ramen. What can I say? I add veggies and meat to it to ensure he gets all of his nutritional needs met. He loves it.”

  Reese was mesmerized by Jude’s graceful hands as he expertly chopped the carrots, green onions, and mushrooms. He scooped them into his hands and brushed them off into the pot with the boiling water. He moved through the kitchen as though he’d done it a million times. Which he had. God, what had he done, letting him go like that? What if he didn’t want to come back? Reese was at his wit’s end. He couldn’t do it alone any longer.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” Reese murmured. He stood next to Jude by the sink.

  Jude’s lips turned up slightly in a closed-mouth grin.

  “I did this for Mr. Matheson. He’s been wonderful to me. I hate to see him….”

  “You can say it,” Reese said with a sad smile. “I fucked up. I never should have taken this on by myself. I’m sorry.”

  Jude shrugged. “You’ve always wanted the best for your grandfather. I know you thought what you were doing was right.”

  Reese laughed at the backhanded compliment. “I just wanted to have the time with him. Things are finally settled enough that I can stay with him and—”

  “And you found yourself needing a place to live. Look, Mr. Matheson—”

  Reese couldn’t help himself. He reached out and placed a hand on Jude’s shoulder.

  “Do you hate me that much that you won’t call me Reese?”

  Jude’s dark eyes were wide as he turned to look up at him. He glanced at the hand still on his shoulder and then back into Reese’s face.

  “I don’t. No. I don’t hate you. I just want to see Mr. Matheson cared for. I worry about him.”

  Reese realized the second time Jude looked down at his hand that he hadn’t moved it yet. Jude’s shoulder was hard and firm beneath Reese’s hand. Muscular. His hand slid down involuntarily over an equally firm bicep. Jude cleared his throat.

  “Will you stay?” Reese asked, his
voice cracking. He stepped back and took a deep breath. What am I doing? “I need help.” Obviously. I just fondled his biceps. Really nice biceps. Reese shook his head. “I’d like to work out an arrangement with you.”

  Jude turned back to the skillet, took the shrimp out with a spoon, and added them to the boiling water. He added the noodles and set the timer and then turned back around and faced Reese with determination on his face.

  “I told you if I came back, we’d do this my way. Mr. Matheson needs round-the-clock care, and that’s too much for one person. Even I had assistance from a day nurse three days a week and my tita Germaine came over in the evenings so I could go to class. You do need help, Mr. Matheson. Reese. I’m happy to take the early shift, since that seems to be problematic for you. We can work out a schedule that you’ll promise to keep this time.”

  Reese couldn’t help but notice that eyebrow again. Jude’s arms were crossed over his chest like they’d been when Reese let him go before, the same hip cocked out to the side. But this time Reese saw more than a man in scrubs. Jude may have been younger than him, but he had a commanding presence when it mattered. And he expected Reese to listen to him.

  “And you must follow the routines I prescribe for Mr. Matheson so we don’t have a repeat of today. You can’t let him get off schedule. He becomes confused. We were lucky today. Next time might be worse.”

  Reese needed to sit down. The idea that he could have lost his grandfather out there somewhere made him nauseated. He dropped his head into his hands and exhaled. Exhaustion weighed his body down, and he was near tears. A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. Reese looked up, surprised to find Jude standing over him with a sympathetic expression that Reese probably didn’t deserve.

  “I’ll do whatever you say,” Reese whispered. “Just help me, please? He means everything to me. I know he’s getting worse. I need a little more time with him.”

  “He’s very special,” Jude said and, he smiled. Reese’s heart instantly felt lighter at the sight. Jude started to pull his hand away, and Reese caught it in his own.