by Andrew Grey
“Yes.” She stepped beside him. “We don’t have much time.” Impatience was always her excuse. Actually, James thought she would be happier if he lived at home and she did things for him all the time. That way everything in his life would be on her schedule.
“Then let me.” James reached for a hanger. He used all different kinds and had worked out a system with Mrs. Ledbetter. “These are gray dress slacks, and I thought I’d wear this blue shirt with it. Now, are there any holes or issues as far as you can see?”
“No.”
“Then let me get cleaned up and dressed and we can meet Dad.” He pulled on his pants and went into the bathroom.
“Do you need help?”
“No, Mom. Just give me a few minutes.” James knew she meant well, but every time he was around her, she acted like he was still fourteen years old and struggling with learning everything he needed to. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself in his own house as long as no one moved things around.
He didn’t get a response and went about his morning routine. Once he was done, he returned to his bedroom and finished dressing, then found his mother in the kitchen.
“I did up the few dishes and put them away for you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” It wasn’t necessary, and while his mother would never say it, the act was her way of apologizing. “We can go now.”
She headed to the door, and he locked everything up behind him and then let her guide him to the car. Once he was in, James settled in the seat while she drove him through town and on up to Mequon.
By the time his mother pulled into the club, James felt a little sick. She always drove erratically, never making a single smooth turn, and since he couldn’t see, they all came as a surprise. After being bounced around for half an hour, pressing as far back against the seat as possible, he was never so glad to get to a destination in his life. “Good lord, Mother.”
“What?”
James unfastened his seat belt and got out. “It wasn’t a race.”
“We were going to be late.” As though that explained everything. She came around to him, and James extended his cane. “There’s a step about ten feet ahead.” His mother began her usual cadence of letting him know what was coming as she guided him up the walk, inside the club, and eventually to their table in the restaurant.
James found a chair and sat, relieved that part of the journey was over. He loved his mother, but she made him nervous as hell. He was her little boy, but truth be told, he didn’t like being dependent on her. James trusted her, but she represented dependence to him, and he didn’t want that.
“Hi, James,” his sister, Marti, said, lightly squeezing his shoulders.
“Uncle Jimmy,” Zack, her son, said, and James smiled as he touched his leg. That was their signal, and James reached for his nephew and lifted him on his lap. They were best buds.
“You’re getting so big.”
“I’m four.”
“You are? Is today something special?”
“Uncle Jimmy…,” Zack said, as though anyone could forget his birthday.
“I know. I’d never forget. Grammy has your present, and I hope you like it.” He ruffled Zack’s hair and gave him a hug, wishing, not for the first time, that he could be able to see his nephew’s face, even just once. He had a picture of him in his mind, but it wasn’t the same. There were times when the longing to see the people around him, even for a few minutes, grew almost overwhelming. “Are you going to sit next to me and help me?”
“He sure is.” He’d know that voice anywhere. His brother-in-law, Tim, was an amazing man, and he leaned down to give James a hug. “He’s been talking about nothing else the entire ride. Haven’t you, bud?”
“Can I come stay with you sometime?” Zack asked. “I’ll be good and I can help you.”
“I know you will.” James hugged Zack once again and then zoned out of the rest of the conversation at the table as he talked to his nephew and helped him down so he could sit in his chair.
“He asks that all the time,” Tim whispered, hand resting on his shoulder. “So I was thinking that he and I would come stay soon. That way you can spend time together.” Sometimes it amazed James that of all the people in the family, it was Tim who understood things the best.
“That would be awesome.” James squeezed Tim’s hand, and Tim patted his shoulder and then stepped away, a chair dragging on the floor as he sat next to Zack.
“All he wants is his daddy,” Marti was saying to their mother. “I don’t get it.”
“He’s going through a boy phase.”
“James,” his dad said, touching his shoulder. His father had always been a man of few words, so a single-word greeting was par for the course.
“Carl,” his mother said in the lightly scolding tone that she reserved for his dad. “You’re late.”
“My round of golf took a little longer than expected.”
More chairs scraped on the floor as everyone else sat down. The conversation swirled around him and James tried to keep up, but he didn’t have much to say. “What should I order?” he asked Zack.
“Chicken fingers,” Zack said, which was his usual answer. He had a fixation for chicken fingers.
“Is that what’s you’re getting, chicken fingers?”
“Yeah, and french fries.” He sounded so happy, and that didn’t sound too bad if James were honest. At least he wasn’t going to make a mess in front of everyone.
James knew the menu by heart, and as the server took the drink orders, he asked for iced tea.
“The new menu is interesting,” Tim said, and James knew that was for his benefit. God, James loved his brother-in-law more every time they got together. “The chicken pot pie looks good, and so does the fried chicken.”
“It’s all right. I’ll order for James,” his mother cut in, as though he were six.
As the server made her way around, James ordered the pot pie and asked for his salad to be dressed for him, which made things a lot easier. His mother fussed, but he was able to care for himself.
“Is there cake?” Zack asked.
“Yes. If you eat a good lunch,” Marti said, even though everyone knew no one was going to deny the birthday boy his cake.
“I need to use the restroom,” James said.
“I’ll take you,” his mother said.
“I’m fine, Mom.” James pushed back his chair and used his cane to feel his way. He’d been here so many times, he had the space measured out.
“I got you, Uncle Jimmy.” Zack took his hand and led him slowly through the restaurant. “See, I can help.”
“Yes. You’re a big boy. Now you have to tell me what’s ahead. Be my eyes, okay?”
“Okay. There’s a table over there with a big thing of ugly flowers, and over there is a man watching you.” Zack stopped. “Did you do something wrong?”
“No, why?” James asked as he kept moving.
“He’s watching you the way Mama watches me when I don’t put my toys away.” Now that was a great observation. This kid was going to be a writer or something.
“Let’s get me to the bathroom.” James could deal with whoever had caught Zack’s attention when he got out.
Zack led him inside, and James used the facilities and washed his hands, then let Zack guide him toward their table. Of course, James really didn’t need his help, but it was nice of Zack.
“Is that man still there?”
“No.”
“Okay.” Zack got him to the table and James sat back down.
“Your salad is in front of you, with the forks on the left. Use the outside fork. I cut the tomato for you,” his mother said, then resumed her conversation with Marti.
James patted the table until he found his fork and slowly began to eat. He always made a bit of a mess. At home he had plate guards that helped keep the food from spilling, but eating out was always tough.
“It is you.”
James stilled as the voice of the man he’d
spent most of the night dreaming about appeared. “Trevor?” He was already warmer just listening to his deep honey voice.
“Yes.” Trevor gently touched James’s shoulder, and damn, he wanted to lean into that touch. “I saw you and your little helper.” His voice was so close, James imagined Trevor right next to his chair. “Are you a member of the club?”
“My parents are.” James remembered his manners. “Trevor, this is my mother, Joyce; my father, Carl; my sister, Marti; and her husband, Tim. And you saw my helper, Zack, earlier.” He smiled. “This is Trevor.”
“It’s nice to meet you all.” Trevor stayed close enough that James could feel the heat coming off him and smell testosterone and musk mixed with a splash of light, earthy cologne. It was heaven. “I’ll let you return to your lunch, but I wanted to come over and say hello.” Trevor took his hand and squeezed.
“Are you a member here?” James asked, wanting Trevor to stay for a few more moments.
“No. This is my first time here.” James picked up the strain in Trevor’s voice and wondered what the source was. “I’ll see you later.” Trevor’s breath ghosted over James’s ear and then he was gone, the scent leading to heaven swirling around him and then dissipating so fast, James wondered if it was real.
“Who was that and where did you meet him?” Sometimes his mother was so stuck-up, James swore if it rained, she would drown.
“Wow,” Marti said, the ice in her glass clinking as she picked it up. “Doesn’t matter. Sorry, hon, but if he looked at me the way he just….” Marti cleared her throat. “Sorry.”
Tim chuckled. “Yeah, I saw that too.”
“Nonsense,” his mother cut in. “He looks like a gang member. Who wears leather to a country club? It looks like he rode here on a bike. That’s not the kind of person James needs in his life.”
“Forget that, Mother. He was hot.” Thank God for Marti. “If he’s interested, you cast your line and reel him in, James. I sure as heck would… if I weren’t already married to the best guy on earth.” The last part was added hastily, and James imagined the scowl she was getting from Tim.
“I met him the other night. He was nice. That’s all.” James returned to eating his salad.
“You made a mess. I fixed it,” Zack whispered.
“That’s nice of you. Remember that Uncle Jimmy can’t see his food like you can.”
“I know. That’s why I fixed it.” Zack sounded so pleased, James gave him a smile, hoping he didn’t have salad dressing all over his face.
He went back to eating and managed to get some of his salad in his mouth. He half expected his mother to offer to feed him, but thankfully the conversation continued around him and no one mentioned his mess.
James was grateful when the dishes were cleared and his main course placed in front of him. “The dish is very hot,” the server told him, so James waited for it to cool.
“Mr. Hot and Hunky keeps looking over here,” Marti stage-whispered across the table.
“Please. He’s probably part of a motorcycle gang or something.”
“Trevor is a business owner. He has a chain of garages and works hard.” James located his spoon and carefully broke the crust on his pot pie, then tested it for heat before taking a bite. Dang, that was good.
“Selling stolen car parts, I bet. You remember last year when Susan Miller got her car stolen? They found it stripped clean. They took every part they could use and left the shell.”
“That doesn’t mean he had anything to do with that. You’re such a snob sometimes.”
“Daddy, what does snob mean?” Zack asked.
“It’s another word for your grandmother,” James’s dad piped in, and James nearly dropped his spoon. “Let’s have a nice meal without the running commentary, Joyce.” He grew quiet once again, and thankfully so did his mother.
“Yes. We’re here to celebrate Zack’s birthday,” Marti said.
“I’m ready for cake,” Zack pronounced.
“You need to finish one more chicken finger and eat a few more french fries before you get cake,” Marti said firmly.
James continued eating his lunch. Everyone else around the table talked, while he concentrated on not making too big of a mess. Somehow he didn’t think he was successful. At least no one commented on it, which he counted as a win. When he was done, he sat back, and the server took his plate.
“Cake now?”
“Yes,” James told Zack. “And presents.”
“Your dad needs to get the gifts out of the car,” Marti said, and a chair scraped the floor as Tim got up. His dad got up as well, and James reached for his glass but missed, spilling it on the table.
His mother gasped and growled under her breath—a sound James had heard so many times in his life.
“I have napkins,” Marti said as activity blossomed around James, his family cleaning up his mess the way they always did.
“It’s all right. If everyone could slide your seats back a minute.” James did as the unknown voice asked, and things were moved in front of him. “Thank you. We’ll get the table cloth off.” A snapping noise and a slight breeze went past him as the new cloth fell on the table. Silverware clanged as it was reset. “There you are. I’ll bring you another tea.” She was gone, and James scooted himself back to the table. He wanted to go home and save himself the embarrassment and his family the trouble of him being here.
“It’s okay, Uncle Jimmy.” Zack patted his leg, and James lifted him onto his lap. “You can use my sippy cup if you want.” Zack pressed the plastic cup into his hand, and James wasn’t sure if he should be further embarrassed. There had been moments when he thought he should have a sippy cup for times like these.
“Thank you. But you keep your cup, and I’ll try not to spill again, okay?” He figured he could last until he got home before drinking anything again. That should prevent any other sort of embarrassment for his family.
“Are you ready for cake?” James hugged Zack to him, and he nodded against him.
“And presents.”
“Yes. Definitely presents.”
“Are your daddy and grandpa back yet?”
He felt Zack’s hair against his cheek as Zack turned to look. “They’re coming in now!”
James put him down and let the activity take place around him.
Paper ripped, and Zack squealed at whatever he’d found inside the package. “A truck!” He immediately made motor sounds, and Tim had to remind him that there were more things for him to unwrap. More paper tearing followed. “Books.”
“Open them up,” James said. “See the bumps? These are books that I can read to you.”
Marti’s hands slid around his neck, and she leaned against his back. “That’s perfect.”
“I asked Mom to get them for me. I hope it’s okay.” He placed his hands on top of hers, needing the comfort about now.
“More than okay. I want him to get to know his uncle Jimmy and he needs ways to bond with you, so this is perfect. He loves to be read to, and now you’ll have stories that are all your own.” She kissed his cheek. “He needs to grow up to understand your world, just like you try to understand his.” She released him, and James felt her hands slip away as Zack ripped into another package.
“It’s a Wii, Daddy!” Zack sounded thrilled. That must have been from Grandma and Grandpa. They always went overboard, in his opinion.
“Yes, it is.”
“We got him some educational games,” his father said as Zack tore into yet another package.
James stood, excused himself, and used his cane to travel the known route toward the bathroom.
“Are you having a good time?” Trevor’s voice came from right behind him, making James jump. “Your nephew looks like he’s having the time of his life.”
“He’s four and there are presents, so… yeah. Are you having a good lunch?”
“Yes. It was fine. I have the door for you.” The door squeaked slightly, and James went inside. “How was yours?�
��
James sighed before he could stop it. “My family puts up with a lot.”
“You mean the spilled glass? Please. That can happen to anyone.”
Trevor ran water at the sink as James went into the stall, glad to have a few moments where no one could see him. Times like this, when he was hidden and private, always seemed like the great equalizer. James took care of business and sat quietly, waiting for Trevor to leave, but he didn’t seem to be doing that, so James finished up and went to the sink to wash his hands.
“Trevor, I know you’re here. I can smell you.”
“Just waiting… and you can smell me?” The scent got stronger. “What do I smell like?”
Dang, he was so close. James ran the water cooler than usual because he was suddenly very warm. “Do you usually do things like this in bathrooms?” He wasn’t going to try to put into words how Trevor smelled, especially in a bathroom.
“No. But it’s probably the only time I was going to get you alone, and I wanted to talk to you.” Trevor leaned close once again. “So, tell me what I smell like? Is it good?”
James groaned.
“I’ll take that as a yes and that you like how I smell.”
“You do realize you’re flirting with a blind guy, in a bathroom, and I have a cane and I’m not afraid to use it.” James smiled. He’d often been told, especially by his mother, that he rarely made facial gestures, so he tried to pay extra attention to his expression, but it was hard because he had very little reference.
“You have a nice smile. And yes, I know I’m flirting, and I can tell you like it.”
“You sure?” With Trevor so close, James wanted to lean against him, but this was a dream and Trevor was most likely playing with him.
“Yes. Your cheeks are flushed and your right leg is shaking.” Trevor took his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you back to your table before you do something to get yourself hurt.”