"They better, or I'll raise hell." His blue eyes are glistening.
"She'll be fine," I insist, patting him sheepishly.
"She's not on my floor now."
"But she's on the right floor now, you said so."
"I know, but now we won't get to watch TV all night." He looks so forlorn I have to suppress a smile. His eyes raise slowly. "Tammy?"
"Hmmm?"
"How long are you going to be here? Till New Year's?"
I gaze at him steadily until he loses the contest. "I'm going to stay."
His body jumps. "What about your job?"
"I can transfer to the UC Davis station and do my show. I've been wanting to move back home for a few years," I tell him. "Besides, Mom needs me."
He nods with a little smile.
I smile back, willing him to hold eye contact, to show me what's inside of him. But he won't.
"Jamie?"
"Yeah?"
"I've missed you."
His eyes close, his body jumps a little again.
"Every time I came home to visit Mom for a day or so, I'd look for you. I couldn't find you. I even looked in the church..."
"We don't go much anymore." His dry lips part. "I mean, I don't..."
"I'm sorry about Lloyd, Jamie..."
He nods.
"I looked for you at The End."
"We must have been at work that night."
"You still sing duets with Stace, huh?"
"I won't sing without her."
"Are you with her?" I ask, dreading the answer. They're Siamese twins, always have been. I'm sure Jamie is gay, but I wouldn't be surprised if they became a couple anyway, because that's karma. I should have accepted his love when I had the chance.
"No, Tammy," he says then. "She's my best friend, and I love her. I'd give my life for her. But we aren't like that."
"Are you with anybody?" I ask in my usual headlong way.
He gulps. "No... I don't go out..."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Jamie... I'd... I'd like to... I'd..." I falter, lean closer to him. "I've thought about you constantly, since..."
In a melancholic whisper, "I've thought about you too. And I miss you..."
"I've come home because I want to be with you... I always have."
"Tammy... I... I... don't know..."
"Please, Jamie. Please, let's try. Let's go out to dinner or something. I want to get to know you again."
"You do?"
I nod.
Jamie's mouth half smiles. He's still not looking at me. I don't know what kind of smile it is. "I have to go back," he stammers, and jerkily tries to stand up.
I hold him down by gripping his forearms. "Please, please, give me another chance." I close the chasm between us, touch my lips to the corner of his mouth, feel him tremble. A soft sigh escapes him, spills over my lips. I shiver.
"I'll never be mean to you, I'll never hurt you, ever again..."
He says nothing.
"I love you, Jamie. I've always loved you."
"Please," he sobs. "I have to go back now."
I let him up, preparing for him to react to my declaration by walking away from me.
He steps away, walks toward the building, turns back, faces me. "Are you staying for a while tonight?"
"Yeah," I choke on my relief. "I'm gonna go up and sit with her for a while, then I'm going to call it a night."
He waits for me and we walk back in together.
While we're in the elevator, I take his hand. I hear and feel the change in his breathing, but he doesn't pull away, and I don't turn him loose until we reach his floor and the doors open. He practically leaps away from me. "Bye." We regard each other pensively until the elevator doors separate us.
It's not till I get to the house that I realise that I didn't even thank him for saving my mother's life. All I did was throw a tantrum.
I'm the reason he was crying.
I can't sleep.
I have to make it up to him.
The next afternoon, I show up at his front door. His home is out in the country just northeast of town. It's mostly a brick house, like the ones you'd see in Oklahoma or Kansas. The front porch is cement with a green metal porch swing. A small topiary of neatly pruned green bushes with small, glossy leaves encircles the front yard. Pink roses embellish the small flowerbeds along the base of the house.
I relish the look in his eyes when he sees me. "Hi."
"Can I come in?"
His sigh shudders out of him. "Yeah."
The living room is small and homey, with a hardwood floor, little braided area rugs, two big overstuffed beige recliners, a big dark blue couch and an oak coffee table. On each piece of furniture a cat dozes. "So, you're a cat lover too!" I exclaim.
"You like cats?" Jamie's eyes widen to thrice their normal size.
"I love cats. I've been volunteering at a cat shelter down south."
"I never had a cat when I was a kid," Jamie says. "Lloyd adopted these guys." His eyes fix on the hardwood floor.
"What are their names?" I ask, and he introduces me to "Misty", a pretty long haired female with silver and gold fur, a salmon coloured nose, and light gold eyes, a male orange tabby named "Tigger", a solid black male named "Sam", and a beautiful orange and white long haired male named "Ginger".
As I hold Ginger and scratch his head, I say, "I came to ask if you want to come to the Christmas party at The End with me."
Again, his huge, sapphire eyes widen until I see the whites all around the irises. He quickly shakes his head. "Oh, no, thank you, Tammy. I'd better not."
"Why?" I implore softly. "You have plans? Where are you going? Can I come with you?" The questions fly out of me before I can catch them.
"No. I... I'm just going to stay home tonight."
"Why?"
He stammers, "It's... it's my... first... first Christmas without L-Lloyd... and I'm feeling... I'm..." He gives up and shrugs.
I let Ginger off my lap and stand. "Jamie, I need to apologise to you."
He backs away a step and murmurs, "What?"
"I didn't even thank you last night."
"For what?"
"You saved my Mom's life."
He stumbles over his dismissive laugh.
"You found the blood clot. Jamie. She could have died if you hadn't been there." I step forward.
He retreats instantly. "It's just my job. I pay for liability insurance too, you know." His smile contorts into an alarmed grimace as I step forth again, and before he can take another step back, I kneel down. Of their own accord, my arms go around him, my face nestles into the crook of his neck. "Thank you, Jamie. Thank you for saving her."
Now he's shivering so violently that I'm shaking myself like a building next to one that's being detonated. I press him against me. The mild, musky scent of his skin sends a hot flood into my dick. "Come on," I murmur. "Come to the party with me."
"Oh, n-no, Tammy. Y-you g-go ahead and go. I-I-I'll only r-ruin it-t. I d-don't think-k I'll be m-much f-fun."
"It won't be any fun unless you're there."
"I'm depressed. I'm..."
"That's why you need to get out."
"I'll ruin it for everybody."
I shake my head slowly, rolling my forehead against his. "That's impossible."
"Please, Tammy... I..."
"Look at me."
He won't.
"You can't spend Christmas all by yourself," I scold softly.
His eyes are clouding over with something I don't like.
"Jamie, look at me."
His lips barely move. "I can't."
"Yes, you can. Come on, look at me."
The shaking has stopped. His eyes are lifeless, his body like a mannequin.
"No," I plead. "Don't turn off your feelings, Baby, please."
No response.
"Please, look at me, Jamie."
"I'm scared," he says, and lets out the breath he's been holding.
"Don't
be," I whisper. He's not faking this. "Look at me."
An agonised wail, "I can't!"
"Come on," I insist. "Come on, look at me." Patiently, gently, I coax him. "Come on. Come on, Jamie." Slowly, agonisingly, his eyes lift, and when they touch mine, we both gasp as the current, so familiar and still so mysterious, twists and curls and entwines itself around us, inside us, between us, drawing us closer... closer. He can't hide from me now. My eyes refuse to leave his. He stares into me, his eyes caressing me, adoring me. The desire in those eyes, the guileless lust, the innocent, ravenous hunger, reaches in, robs me of breath.
I stand on tiptoe to give him my kiss.
He leans over the safety rail on the shopping cart, and I receive his...
My arms are like boas around his slender form, crushing him closer, closer. For an eternal moment, we're motionless, his lips so close I can taste his warm breath. Then he's kissing me, his lips latching fiercely to mine, releasing, latching on again, releasing. He struggles to free himself, sobbing, "I'm sorry!"
"I'm not!" My arms tighten around him again. "I'm not," I repeat and fasten my mouth to his. The sweet, almost-forgotten taste of him drives me crazy as our lips meet and part in a frenzy of firm, moist kisses. The soft yearning sounds escaping his throat reach all the way into my core, and I almost come.
I release him, we labour for our breaths, and I say, "You're coming with me to that Christmas party."
He nods.
"Yeah, I know you are," I growl, kissing him softly on the place where his shoulder joins his neck. I take his hand, refuse to let go, all but dragging him out to my car, opening the passenger door for him, smiling inwardly at the look on his face. I love this. I've never had anything close to this. And I want this. I want to treat him like a prince. He deserves nothing less.
As soon as I'm belted into the driver's seat, I seize his hand again. His eyes fly up to meet mine, his lips part in a gaping smile.
It's here. It's been here since that day in church over a decade and a half ago, since that day in line at a supermarket thirty years ago.
It's always been here.
Where else would it be?
Where else had it ever been?
eighteen:
jamie
(approaching christmas)
"We're going to eat first," Tammy says, one hand on the wheel and the other holding mine prisoner. "Where to?"
I'm still in shock. "W-Wherever you w-want." I don't tell him I hate eating in front of people. I'll get something inexpensive, like a salad, and I'll hide most of it in a napkin and flush it when I get a chance. It isn't because I'm watching my weight. It isn't because I think Tammy will think I'm a pig if I eat something that actually has flavour. It's because I need to be calm. I need to keep my head. I need to maintain jurisdiction, because right now I'm so scared I'm ready to shit my pants.
He smells the same. He tastes the same...
He picks a nice Sizzler-esque restaurant with a huge bar of potatoes, salads, breads, pastas and desserts. My stomach doesn't know whether to cramp with hunger or churn with nausea. I love food as much as anyone. I could shovel these goodies down and rupture my stomach like any glutton.
But I like to stay empty. I like to stay strong.
I hope he's not planning to pay for both of us. It was his idea to have dinner, but if I can just pay for my own meal, I can order a nice simple green salad.
"What do you want," he asks as we get in line.
"I'm just gonna get a salad," I say, digging into my wallet.
"Put that away. I'm buying."
"Oh, no, Tammy," I protest. "Don't do that."
"Put it away," he says, eyes narrowing.
"You shouldn't. I'm not very hungry..."
"Bull. You're starved. I saw the way you looked at that food."
"But..."
"Nope," he says firmly. "Tonight you're eating. You can go back on your pointless diet tomorrow."
"I'm not on a diet!"
"You sure as hell don't need to be. You're too skinny!"
I'm obviously taking too long to decide, so he orders the entire smorgasbord for both of us: salads, muffins, pastas, potatoes and desserts. To add to my suffering, he also orders a small steak for each of us. As we approach the pasta bar, he says, "Oh, macaroni and cheese. My favourite."
It's not my favourite anymore.
I'll eat just enough to keep from offending him. I'll take whatever I can hide and flush it. I'm going to throw up after I eat anyway. I don't even have to force myself. It just comes up whenever I eat more than a few bites.
I spend more time watching him eat than eating myself. He digs in with knife and fork, snatching huge bites of steak and potato and chewing. His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows his soda. He catches me staring at him. I avert my eyes.
"Eat!" he orders. So I take small bites of the seafood salad and the steak. My stomach clenches its rebellion. After a while, I excuse myself, most of my food tucked into a wadded napkin. After my visit to the lavatory I'm wonderfully evacuated, weak...
...calm.
When we get to The End, Tammy lets go of my hand. "Only for a while?" he asks. I agree.
Then I wonder, is he mad at me for not eating much of the food he paid for?
Stacy's there, along with Lydia and some of the kids we hung out with in church and school. It's a reunion in fact. Ray Battle is home for Christmas too, and sitting at our table. I guess he and Stacy are friends again because they're being quite chummy after all these years. Even Lard-Ash Battle-Feldman and her husband Benny are sitting at a table nearby. I freeze when her dagger eyes meet mine.
As soon as Tammy finds Ray and they start schmoozing about the good old days, Stacy pulls me aside. "What's going on?!" she squeals her eyes dancing back and forth between me and Tammy. "Did you guys come together?"
"Uh... he... uh... brought me... to thank me," I stammer, thanking God she can't see my blush because of the Christmas lights over our table.
She grins wickedly. "For what?"
"Oh... uh... I helped his mom yesterday. She was really sick. I put her in ICU."
"Hmmmm," she winks. "So... tell me everything."
"Oh, Stacy, really! We just went out to eat!"
"Ohmygod, I'm so excited for you!" she gushes.
"Please stop!"
Tammy's trying to recruit Ray and Benny to go up and sing karaoke with him. But they decline, shaking their heads good-naturedly at him as they guzzle their beers.
He crooks his index finger, "You."
I cower down in my chair, shaking my head so hard it's about to fly off my neck. He comes to me, and whispers clearly and crisply in my ear, "Get your ass up."
I glance at Yvette and the look she gives me sends a bolt of fear up my spine.
I entreat Stacy to join us, and Tammy sings "Blue Christmas," in flawless imitation of Elvis. Stacy and I sing the "Ooh-ooh-woo-ooh" backup part. Cheers, candy canes, and mistletoe shower us when we're finished. While he's chuckling with Ray and Benny, Tammy shoves a sprig of mistletoe into his pocket, and his eyes flash darkly.
Your eyes touch me... physically...
As I leave the bar to visit the restroom, Tammy watches my every move and my knees nearly fail me. As I wash and dry my hands, I feel him coming...
I find the back exit. I open the door, relieved by the fresh air on my face. I rest against the cold bricks and wait, knowing he's going to find me. My heart thumps wildly in my ears.
The back door bursts open and he charges me. "Trying to get away?"
"No!" I squeal as he dangles the mistletoe over me for a second before throwing it into the shadows. He seizes me by the shoulders and slams me against the wall, kissing me savagely, deliciously. I'm frightened and excited by his roughness as his tongue slips into my mouth for the first time, and I cling to him like a limpet, making ridiculous mewling noises as his mouth rips away from mine, moves over my neck and ears, whispering, kissing, softly biting, while his arms crush me into hi
m.
"Ohmygod." He's hugging me, his face against my neck, squeezing me full against him. "I missed you so much," he groans.
I'd answer him, "You just saw me five minutes ago," but he's cutting off my air with his crushing embrace. It feels so good. I don't realise he can until he constricts around me even harder. My legs wrap around his hips as I press him closer, trying to absorb into him.
He loosens his hold on me, tries to set me down. "Again!" I beg. "Do it again!" He smiles wickedly, his arms roping around me, smashing me against his solid warmth. An incoherent verbal stream trickles out of my mouth, and I slide my fingers into his dark hair, pull his face down to mine. I let myself go, kissing him, releasing the love I've been storing, not only the sixteen year old love I've had for him, but the love I've had inside of me for thirty-one years, the love I've always wanted to give to somebody. It's like a caged pride of lions, liberated, roaring forth, invading him, saturating him. He shivers and crushes me even closer.
The stubble on his face scrapes my mouth as he ravages my lips with his. I wonder if anyone can see us here in the dark alley behind The End, how we're all over each other.
Tammy pulls away. "We have to stop, Jamie."
"I don't want to," I gasp, reaching for him.
"We have to go back."
"I don't want to."
"Come home with me tonight," he whispers, and I tremble anew. God, I know what this means. I can't conceal my concern. "What is it?" he asks, nuzzling me. His hand slides up my arm, covers my hand. The skin of my palm is so sensitive to every tickle of his fingers. "I'm nervous," I gasp.
"You don't want to?"
I do, oh God, I do. But...
"Jamie, I want you to come home with me. Don't be nervous."
I'm not nervous. I'm fucking terrified.
"You don't have to do or be anything. I just want to spend time with you," he pleads so sweetly.
"Okay," I say with a tremendous shiver.
We go back inside and I make a bee line for Stacy. "He wants me to go home with him tonight!"
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Jamie–"
"What if he wants to have sex?" I practically scream my panic.
She stares at me incredulously. "Are you kidding?!"
"What am I going to do?! What am I going to do?!"
She braces me. "Calm down. You don't know that's what he wants."
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