Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits

by Brandon Witt

  Cal bit his lips together and looked away from Tommy. “It can,” he agreed before looking back at him. He finally asked, “How are the kids?”

  Tommy could feel his temper rising. “Oh, you remember them?”

  “I do,” Cal whispered. “Do they have a place to stay? Was anyone hurt?”

  “It’s real good of ya to ask after them and all, but don’t give it another thought, all right, Pop?” Tommy spat the words at his father. “They’re doin’ just fine. We’ve always done fine on our own.” It wasn’t the six weeks Cal had been missing that was pissing Tommy off. It was over twenty years of his bullshit pushing Tommy over the edge. He was still trying to figure out if the rehab thing was for real or if his father had discovered a way to steal prescription pads or get loaded up with methadone or some other scam. Tommy’s money was on the scam, but he didn’t say it. “Why’d you wanna see me, Pop?”

  It looked to Tommy like this was the part Cal had been dreading. He took a moment to respond.

  “I wanted you to know I was here, and I wanted you to know that it was because I wanted to be. Or, well, because I need to be.”

  Cal stopped there, maybe waiting for Tommy to say something. But what could Tommy say? Great job, only twenty years too late. Go you.

  When Tommy only looked at him, Cal said, “One of my steps is to make amends.” He fidgeted with the envelopes in front of him.

  Tommy couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. One day years later, maybe he would feel guilty about it, but not then.

  “I know I can’t make up for what I’ve done or change anything now, but I wanted you to know I’m trying.”

  “Trying to what?” Tommy asked, feeling bitterness and anger roil in his blood. “Trying to apologize? Trying to tell me you’re sorry and you wish you could take it all back?”

  Cal sat there, looking like he was thinking long and hard about something. “I do wish that. But that’s not what this is about.”

  “Then what?”

  “Look, Son, I know I haven’t got any right to ask you this, but… I’ve written letters for you and the kids and I was hoping you might give them to them. Or at least read yours.”

  Tommy had to inhale slowly to keep from throwing himself across the table at his father. “Look, Pop. Tell ya what. If you’re still clean and sober in a year, if you’ve got your shit together by then, got a real job, stayed outta jail and off the streets…. If you still wanna make amends… you look us up and bring the letters yourself.” He stood up and leaned over the table, his voice thick with rage as he whispered, “But I swear to God, if you try to fuck up what the kids have now, if you do something crazy like try to get custody back, I’ll sign my own confession in your blood over your dead body. You hear me, old man?”

  Bobby hadn’t been kidding about the security guard in there. He seemed to take notice when Tommy moved. He stepped closer when things got more heated. But Tommy backed away. He looked at the guard and said, “I’m done here.”

  He didn’t even glance at his father as he stalked toward the door and waited for the nurse on the other side to let him out.

  BOBBY HAD been waiting for him when he got to the lobby, but he didn’t say anything to Tommy. Probably because Tommy was muttering to himself and walking fast on his way to the exit.

  When they got outside, Bobby finally asked, “Didn’t go well, I take it?”

  Tommy was patting down his jacket pockets, praying there was one cigarette left. Clearly, finding out the kids were okay and that Bobby was probably going to keep him around a little longer was the last bit of luck Tommy was going to get for a while. His pockets were empty.

  “You know, some stupid part of me had thought for one minute on the way over here that maybe—just maybe—he’d pulled himself together and he was actually going to stand up and take responsibility.” Tommy stood in front of the hospital, pointing at the doors. “But that? That’s the last fucking thing I need.”

  He turned to walk toward the car and Bobby followed. Tommy was still growling. “All I need is for him to get it together just long enough to fuck up our world again and then ya know what’ll happen?” Tommy looked at Bobby but he kept talking over anything Bobby might have said. “He’ll derail again and drag us all into the ditch with him.”

  Bobby unlocked the car and waited for Tommy to duck inside before he did the same. He started the car, and as if he had been waiting to make sure Tommy was done, he finally asked, “What did he want?”

  “He wanted to make amends.” Tommy filled each word with as much contempt as they would hold. When Bobby didn’t say anything, he went on. “He wrote us letters, ya see. But did he have the balls to hand ’em out himself? No. He wanted me to do it for him. Just like every other goddamn thing in his life.”

  Bobby pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m guessing you told him to go fuck himself?”

  “You think I shouldn’t have?”

  “I didn’t say that, Tom.”

  “I told him that if he got his shit together and stayed clean for a year, he could look us up and give them to us himself.”

  As Bobby pulled onto the freeway heading back to Judy’s house, he said, “That’s not an unreasonable request, Tom. Your father has a lot to face, both in himself and with his family. You telling him he needs to prove himself for more than a few weeks in a locked-down facility isn’t unfair.”

  “I don’t give a shit if it’s fair or not.”

  “Given what you’ve been through with him,” Bobby said with a small breath of a laugh. “I’d say that’s pretty fair too.”

  Tommy didn’t tell Bobby what his parting message for Cal had been. He decided there were still some things Bobby simply didn’t need to know.

  THEY DIDN’T say much the rest of the way home. Tommy was glad for the peace until he remembered Bobby’s words earlier. We need to talk. When they pulled in to the driveway, Tommy decided it was best to get it all over with in one day. He turned to Bobby. “You still need to talk?”

  Bobby turned the car off and looked at him. “I do, but it can wait until later.”

  “Nah,” Tommy said as he got out of the car. When Bobby stepped out, Tommy continued. “Let’s just get it all out in the open today, okay?”

  If Bobby disagreed, he didn’t say so. Instead of going to Judy’s front door, he led Tommy to the door on the side of the garage and let them both in to his apartment. It seemed smaller and less friendly to Tommy than it had before. He was hoping that was just his imagination. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about Tommy moving in with him. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about him in general.

  He watched as Bobby kicked off his shoes and set his keys down on the kitchenette counter. When Bobby walked around the couch to the makeshift bedroom, Tommy followed him.

  Bobby stretched out on the bed with a pillow under his head, and he smiled at Tommy.

  “Is ‘talking’ the new euphemism?” Tommy asked. “Because I don’t mind talking so much if it is.”

  “It’s not,” Bobby told him with a laugh. “The last two days I’ve been worried out of my mind, then I was pissed off, and then I just plain missed you.”

  Tommy bent down to untie his boots and then crawled over the bed to where Bobby was waiting for him.

  They shifted and stirred and moved together until they were both in a comfortable position. Bobby was on his back, and Tommy’s head was on his chest. Bobby had snagged a throw blanket from somewhere and draped it over them. Tommy wished he could take a nap, but that wasn’t why they were here either. “This was your idea,” Tommy said. “Talk, copper.”

  Bobby ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair and was quiet for a minute before he asked, “How do you feel about me, Tom?”

  Tommy lifted his head and looked at Bobby. “We’re goin’ on a year here, and you still feel like you need to ask me that?”

  “I do, yeah.”

  For some reason, hearing Bobby say those words hurt deep inside in a place To
mmy didn’t even know existed.

  Bobby went on. “I know you love me, but…. I want a partner, and I need to know if you do too.”

  He probably shouldn’t have taken so long to respond. He could sense Bobby getting nervous while he waited, but this was an answer Tommy had to get right. He knew what the word “partner” meant to Bobby. He was a cop. It meant more than just someone you share your life with. He depended on his partner to watch his back and keep him safe, to take a bullet for him if it came down to it. Tommy figured, to Bobby, a partner was the guy who was always there for you, who would listen to you and take your advice and get you out of a tough situation. A partner was the guy who let it go both ways. Give and take. Tommy sucked at give and take, and they both knew it.

  He must have taken too long, because Bobby said, “I don’t want to just be the guy you fuck and ‘oh by the way’ love.”

  Tommy knew that. He cleared his throat and said carefully, “I want you to be it for me, okay?” Bobby only looked at him. “I want a partner too, but,” Tommy paused there and then said softly, “I need you to teach me how.”

  He didn’t actually say the word “help,” but it was close enough, and Tommy could feel the sting of fear rise up with his words.

  Bobby tightened his fingers in Tommy’s hair and pulled him closer. “I can do that,” he whispered.

  The kiss they shared then was long, almost painfully tender. When Tommy pulled back, he could feel his blood flushing over the surface of his skin. He was breathless and suddenly needy, and he hoped the conversation was over.

  Bobby seemed to agree. He rolled himself over Tommy and spread his legs so they could grind their hips together. Tommy’s breath caught on a gasp when Bobby slipped his hands under his shirt and started to push it up over his head. They were moving roughly, trying to get through the layers of clothes, shed their jeans, and nothing was going quick enough for Tommy. He wanted Bobby like he wanted air. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, an instinct running so deep inside him it felt primal.

  Once they discarded their clothes and Tommy could finally touch Bobby’s skin, he spent long minutes trailing his fingers over every inch. He kissed Bobby’s arm where the small scar still looked pink and livid after more than five months. He traced every curve, every sharp angle of Bobby’s body, like he was memorizing him, mapping out every muscle.

  Tommy let his eyes slide shut as they explored each other, gasping when Bobby scraped his teeth against Tommy’s throat.

  Bobby interrupted the greedy touches and small whimpers. “Have you been tested lately?”

  Tommy nearly told him his entire life was a test, but he knew what Bobby meant. “About a month ago.” HIV tests were one of the few things that were actually free at the clinic. “You?”

  “Every three months, like clockwork.” That didn’t surprise Tommy at all.

  Bobby was quiet for another moment. Tommy’s blood was thrumming through his veins at the speed of light. He wanted to stop talking again. Bobby looked like he was about to ask a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. Tommy nearly stopped him, but instead he let Bobby ask, “Been with anyone else?”

  Tommy searched his eyes for a beat. He wanted to tell Bobby what a stupid question that was, but he knew Bobby was asking for more than the obvious reasons. Tommy whispered, “I haven’t touched anyone else since the first time I touched you.”

  “Good.” Bobby’s lips were tender as they brushed against Tommy’s with the word.

  He didn’t say anything else, but Tommy didn’t care. He knew it was the same for Bobby, and he didn’t need to hear the words to be sure.

  When Bobby pulled away and reached into the nightstand, he didn’t get a condom, only the bottle of lube. He moved closer, kissed Tommy again, and simply asked, “Okay?”

  That seemed like a bigger commitment than anything else they’d done. Moving in together, putting up with each other’s bullshit, even Bobby helping him raise the kids didn’t seem as big of a commitment comparatively. Bobby was ready to trust Tommy with his life and his health and his future, and he wanted to make sure Tommy was ready to do the same.

  “Okay,” Tommy whispered in response. One question, one answer, one word from each of them, and it was settled.

  There was no going back.

  They took their time with tender strokes and slick fingers. Tommy’s erection was aching, precome glistening against the head, as Bobby straddled his hips again. He lowered himself slowly and looked intently into Tommy’s face as he gasped and groaned and rocked his way down on Tommy’s cock.

  It always felt amazing with Bobby. Even a quick hand job in the bathroom at four in the morning felt amazing with him. But that night, looking up into Bobby’s flushed face, looking into his eyes for maybe the first time when they were together, Tommy understood in one fraction of a heartbeat every love song he’d ever heard, every dream he was afraid to have, every memory of anything good that had ever happened to him. It was all wrapped up in Bobby. He was the music, he was the dream, he was the love, and… he was the hope.

  Tommy O’Shea finally understood.

  They moved together slowly at first, almost silently, as if they were both having their own revelations. Tommy ran his hand up Bobby’s chest, wrapped his fingers around the back of Bobby’s neck, and pulled him down close, wanting to taste him. When Bobby followed for him and leaned down, he brushed his lips against Tommy’s and whispered, “I love you, Tom.”

  Some new space opened up inside Tommy then. They’d said those words to each other dozens of times, but then, in that moment, it felt like someone turned on a light inside of him. “I love you too, Bobby.”

  He grinned, and Bobby laughed before he kissed Tommy again and sat up. He started to ride Tommy like he meant it, like he couldn’t do anything else.

  Tommy gripped Bobby’s hip with fingertips biting in against the muscles and ran his other hand down Bobby’s body. He wrapped his fingers around Bobby’s cock and started to stroke him with a firm, sure grip. They knew how to drive each other to the edge, and after a few moments, it felt like they were racing each other. Bobby fell harder and faster, slamming down on Tommy, taking him deep inside with every motion, and Tommy’s hand slicked with more urgency over Bobby’s cock.

  Before long Tommy was lifting his hips in sharp thrusts, meeting every move Bobby made. When Bobby groaned in the back of his throat and his hips started to jerk, Tommy knew how close he was. Bobby spilled hot across Tommy’s chest, up his neck. Tommy let out a ragged cry then, muttering Bobby’s name as he came hard, buried deep inside Bobby.

  Tommy’s breath was rushing out in hard pants when Bobby fell down over him. Bobby pressed his face against Tommy’s neck, and Tommy could feel the quick, out-of-rhythm beat of Bobby’s heart against his own. He trailed his fingers down Bobby’s spine, traced the pattern of each vertebra as they recovered together.

  “I just realized something,” Tommy whispered, his voice rough, husky. When Bobby lifted his head, he looked curious. “I get to sleep a whole night with you. Beginning to end.” He added with a laugh, “Hell, I get to sleep all my nights with you now.”

  Bobby grinned. He leaned close, caught Tommy’s bottom lip in his teeth, and then kissed him. “Well, I’m on first shift tomorrow. Gotta leave pretty early.”

  Tommy considered that for a minute. He liked the idea of watching Bobby get ready for work in the early morning, maybe getting up and having a cup of coffee with him. “You’ll have to get ready early.”

  “Why?”

  “So you’ll have time to get dressed again after I undress you,” Tommy told him with a smirk and a pat on Bobby’s bare ass.

  THE STADIUM was crowded and hot, and the twins were getting restless. They were almost four years old, and they’d run out of Goldfish crackers and had gotten tired of playing with Bobby’s phone. Thankfully, the graduating seniors were walking in and taking their seats.

  They’d landed pretty good spots, considering the size of the
place, but Tommy was still searching for Mike amid the sea of dark blue gowns and red tassels.

  “Do you see him?” Zoe asked. She rose up on her knees between him and Bobby to get a better look. Max did the same. He leaned his little arm on Bobby’s shoulder and peered out at the crowd.

  Cal was sitting on the other side of Tommy, and he said, “I think that’s him, Zoe. He’s in the fourth row from the front.”

  Judy was next to Gene. She was taking pictures like a mad photographer while Carrie, Colleen, Davey, and Collin talked quietly among themselves.

  Their family had been through hell and back, and days like today reminded Tommy of how lucky they really were. They never had made the big decision about what to do with the kids, but they were all still in Judy’s care, on paper at least. Tommy still acted like their father and so did Bobby, for that matter. They’d tied the knot the year before. Tommy had never figured himself for marriage, but he’d never figured on anyone like Bobby either, so that was okay.

  Cal had turned up on their doorstep, almost exactly one year after Tommy had visited him in rehab. He had the letters with him. It wasn’t a magical cure. It didn’t wipe away the years of pain and frustration Cal had created, but even at the time, Tommy had to give him credit for showing up at all.

  He still didn’t trust his father and probably never would, but he let Cal have supervised visits with the kids just about any time he wanted. He even invited Cal over for family barbeques and holidays. Though the first time had been mostly Judy’s idea.

  Colleen was working on her Associate’s Degree at the community college, and Mike surprised the hell out of them all when he earned himself a scholarship to Berkeley. It was out of state, and just getting him there was going to be a very expensive pain in the ass. Tommy hated to see him go so far from home, but when Mike had said he was going to turn it down so he could stay with the family, Tommy had nearly kicked him out the door. It was only four years. They could take it.