Nobody’s Hero

by J. Leigh Bailey

  Mrs. Ortega nodded but watched him with concerned eyes.

  “Fine.” His mother pulled an envelope out of her bag and held it out to Brad. When he didn’t get up to get it from her, she sighed and set it on the end table next to the couch. “Here’s your plane ticket. Your flight leaves on August third, out of Minneapolis.”

  “I’m not going to St. Louis. I have a job and a life here. I don’t want anything to do with Nolan’s appeal.”

  His mother flinched. Not at his refusal. Brad knew that hadn’t registered. But mentioning the appeal in front of strangers, that got the reaction. It might tarnish her perfect image to have it known one of her children was in prison.

  “Of course you are. Don’t be difficult.”

  “I’m not being difficult, I’m being honest. I’m not willing to give up my life here in order to help the family who rejected me put up a perfect, united front.”

  His mother’s eyes darted around the room, before halting once again on Brad. “You owe it to the family to be there. This never would have happened if not for you.”

  “No. That’s bullshit.” Brad ignored the way his mother’s mouth tightened at the profanity. “I didn’t do anything. Nolan made his choice. And, to be clear, I believe he got what he deserved.”

  Sitting straighter in her seat, Mother clutched at her bag. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but if you do not reconsider your decision, your father and I will be forced to cut you off from your inheritance. You’ll be forced to fend for yourself.”

  A bitter laugh was Brad’s response. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m fending for myself fine. I haven’t taken any money or used any family resources since before graduation. I refuse to be tied up with all of the strings attached to it.”

  “And look where that got you. Living above a garage, doing manual labor for these...immigrants.”

  “Don’t you dare speak of the Ortegas that way. They are the best people I have ever met and they know what it means to be family. A family supports its members, and loves each other, no matter what. Parents don’t allow their children to beat the crap out of one of the other kids, or send their son off to the roughest military school in the country.”

  “It was for your own good. You were being brainwashed by that boy. Intervention is never pretty.”

  “Intervention? Mother, I’m gay, not a drug addict or a sociopath.”

  “You are not gay. You are confused. We had hoped the staff at Norton Academy would be enough to get things straight in your head—” Danny snorted at Brad’s mother’s unfortunate choice of words, “—but it’s clear we should have taken Dr. Weisman’s advice and enrolled you in one of those conversion centers. With Norton Academy, at least no one needed to know why you were sent away.”

  “Do you hear yourself? Those conversion therapy centers are nothing short of torture. And you didn’t want me there because of the rumors it might have caused? Not because of the trauma to me?”

  “Well, at least you wouldn’t be living with these people, still thinking you’re...homosexual.”

  “Look,” Brad said, any lingering hope he’d held that his family would someday accept him smothered, “let’s give it a clean break, here. A compromise. I won’t bother the family. I’ll cut all ties and move forward with my life. You and Father and anyone else who wants to sympathize or strategize about Nolan’s prison sentence can go about your business. Pretend you don’t have another son. That way we’re all happy.”

  “Ridiculous. You do realize your father and I have control over your trust fund and your inheritance from your grandfather until you’re twenty-five, right? If you don’t do what’s required, we’ll make sure you never get access to those accounts.”

  “Don’t you get it, Mother? I don’t want the freakin’ money! I want to be left alone to live my life as I see fit. I have a life here that I enjoy. I’ve got a job, a place to stay, college plans, all without any help from the family.”

  She sniffed. “You are exactly like my father. I had hoped his...disgraceful tendencies had been an anomaly. But you, you’re just like him.”

  “Your father?” His mother never talked about her father. Ever.

  “He walked out on Mama and me when I was a kid, leaving us to be with his male lover. Mama went crazy. There was no money, no family to help us out. Our life was ruined because my father decided he’d rather be with a man.” Her voice had changed a bit, losing the cool edge and taking up the slightest southern Missouri drawl.

  “Holy crap,” Danny whispered behind Brad, the words echoing his own thoughts.

  “That’s why you’re so anti-gay,” Brad said. “I always knew your reactions were extreme, but I never suspected...”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said crisply, straightening as though settling into her conservative rich-woman persona. “In the end we were better off without that filth in our lives. I won’t accept it in you, however. You will come to the hearing and you will support the family. You have a responsibility to your brother, your father and me, and I mean to see you keep to them.”

  “No,” Brad said firmly. “I’m sorry your father walked out, but it’s not my fault and doesn’t change anything. I’m staying here.”

  “It’s this boy, isn’t it?” She nodded toward Danny with a look like she’d stepped on a worm and had to clean it off the bottom of her shoe. “Have you considered that he’s only after your money? He’s no better than a whore, using you for what you can do for him.”

  For the first time in his life, Brad understood the expression seeing red. Anger, pure unadulterated rage, surged through his body and brain, tinting his very soul scarlet.

  “You will leave my house. Now.” The hot, strident words broke through the red fog. Mrs. Ortega stood and crowded close to Brad’s mother. “You will not come into my house and talk about my child this way.”

  Brad’s mother stood up, towering over Mrs. Ortega’s petite form. Mrs. Ortega wasn’t cowed. She jabbed her finger at his mother and continued her tirade. “You are a disgrace. You are his madre, no? He is your child and you talk to him of duty and money? What about love and protection? Not in my house. You will leave this minute.”

  With every step Mrs. Ortega made, his mother took one back, until she’d backed all the way to the front door. Brad’s mother flinched when Mrs. Ortega reached toward her, but Mrs. Ortega yanked open the door and gestured at it. “Out. Now. You will leave Brad alone. He deserves a madre who will love him, not one who threatens him. And no one, no one, talks about my child in such a way.”

  Brad’s mother spun in her elegant high heels and strode away from the house as though she were a queen leaving her throne room, but her steps were hurried for all of her icy poise. Brad watched her until she’d gotten into the car and the Mercedes had driven off. As soon as she was no longer visible, Brad turned, his heart suddenly beating like he’d run five miles, and wrapped Mrs. Ortega in his arms, holding her close.

  He let the scent of baking bread and gardenias surround him. “I love you, Mrs. Ortega. You’re amazing. I love you.”

  She returned his embrace, patting his back and whispering something to him in Spanish. They stood like that for a few minutes and it was only as he stepped away from her warmth that he realized he’d been crying. The love and understanding in Mrs. Ortega’s eyes nearly undid him.

  She wiped a tear from his face.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice cracking. He didn’t know exactly what he was thanking her for, wiping his tears or sticking up for him to his mother or for being the wonderful woman she was. It didn’t matter. Nothing he could say could convey the full extent of his gratitude at that moment.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  After meeting Mrs. Greene, Danny got it. Between the ice-bitch mother and the attack on Carson, he understood why Brad was afraid. He understood
the rules Brad had in place, the separation between in-public and in-private dating. He understood, but trying to make Brad happy was starting to make him miserable.

  It was like dating two different people. No, not dating. When they were in public, at work or during one of the rare times he’d convinced Brad to do something in town, they might as well have been coworkers and nothing more. No touching. No flirting. No PDA, no matter how casual.

  In the privacy of Brad’s apartment, it was a whole different story. They could cuddle. They could touch. They could flirt and play.

  Brad was pushing him back into the closet, a closet he’d never accepted in the first place. The closet may have been a garage apartment with used furniture and a sexy boyfriend, but it was still a closet.

  The night before, they’d gone to a movie. One of those high-action, low-plot blockbusters.

  Brad kept an open seat between them.

  Toby had texted him about another party. He’d even included Brad in the invite.

  Brad refused to go. He hadn’t cared if Danny went, but he didn’t want to be around so many people.

  Brad was a bit of a loner, but he didn’t seem to dislike people in general. What Brad meant, Danny was sure, was he didn’t want to be seen by so many people with Danny.

  When Danny was eight, he was the only one in his class not to get invited to Dustin Hollister’s birthday party. When he asked why, Dustin told him his parents didn’t want some dirty Mexican brat in their house. It was the first time he’d ever felt different, as though he was somehow less. This thing with Brad kind of felt the same way.

  The whole thing had him tied up in knots. Which was why he was awake at six on a Saturday morning instead of dead to the world in his bed, like any normal guy would be.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, he stared out the window to the staircase leading to Brad’s apartment.

  “Buenos días, mi hijo.” Mamá shuffled in, rested her hands on his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, the same as she had done since he was a toddler.

  “Morning, Mamá.” He covered her hands with his, holding her there a little longer than usual.

  When he let go, she sat in the chair next to him. “Why are you awake so early?”

  He shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  She gave him one of her mom looks, the one that said she wasn’t buying it.

  “You like Brad, right?”

  “I do, yes. And you do too. What has you so sad?”

  “Not sad. Not really. Just...conflicted.”

  She patted his hand. “Tell me. I’ll make chilaquiles.” She stood and walked to the refrigerator then started hauling ingredients out.

  Chilaquiles was the ultimate in breakfast comfort food. Man, his mamá was awesome.

  “Here’s the deal. Brad’s been through a lot. You saw his mother, right? She’s just a part of the crap he’s had to deal with. It’s left him with a few hang-ups.”

  While she cooked, he told her about their dates and his concerns. “After everything he’s been through, I know he needs time. I want to be understanding and give him what he needs.”

  “What about what you need?” Mamá slid a plate in front of him.

  “I want him. When we’re alone, he’s amazing. And he’s doing so much better than he was. I think he’ll get past this eventually.”

  Mamá poured herself a cup of coffee and sat. Her eyes were serious.

  He took a bite of the chilaquiles but the familiar combination of eggs and enchilada sauce tasted like cardboard. “I really like him, Mamá. Maybe I’m pushing for too much, too fast. I’m sure things will improve with a little more time.”

  She patted his knee. “I like Brad, but you are mi niño. It is good you want to help him, to be what he needs, but it is not so good if being what he needs means hiding who you are.”

  He pushed his plate away. Mamá was probably right. She usually was. Unfortunately, he still didn’t have a clue what to do about Brad.

  * * *

  Danny dropped onto Brad’s bed, tucking his legs underneath him. “I’ve got tickets.”

  Brad looked up from the laundry he was putting away. This had become the Saturday routine. He did his laundry in the morning and Danny would drop by to make plans for the day.

  “Tickets?” He added a stack of T-shirts to the shelf in the armoire.

  “Tickets. There’s an a cappella group at St. Olaf tonight. They’re supposed to be pretty amazing.”

  “St. Olaf? Aren’t they the enemy?”

  “Only during football season. Toby and his girlfriend are going. We could do like a double-date thing.”

  He shut the armoire door harder than he meant to. “You didn’t tell Toby, did you?”

  Danny rolled his eyes. “I didn’t have to. He knows I’m gay and assumes we’re dating. It’s no big deal.”

  “You can’t know that.”

  “I do know that. He’s my friend. Obviously he doesn’t give a shit.”

  “But he’s not the only one who’ll be there, right? If it looks like a double date people will assume, and not everyone will feel the same way.”

  Danny closed his eyes, clearly frustrated. “You’re saying you don’t want to go.”

  “Why don’t you go without me? It sounds like it should be fun, and you can hang out with your friends.”

  “I want to hang out with my friends and my boyfriend. I like them. I like you. I think you’ll like each other. You can’t keep to yourself forever. You need friends.”

  “Why? Friends didn’t do me any good when Carson was hurt and they found out I was gay. Where were my friends then? I’ll tell you where. They bailed. Just like everyone else.” He swept his arm out, knocking the half-empty laundry basket onto the floor.

  “Did they bail? Or did you?”

  “Excuse me?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Danny.

  “Did you even give them a chance to be there for you? You lied to them, hid from them. Then, when things went to hell, you were immediately shipped off to military school. When were they supposed to show their support? Did you try calling them? Emailing them? Getting in touch with them at all? Or did you assume they’d be as bad as your fucked-up family?” Danny stood, mirroring Brad’s stance.

  “If they’d wanted to, they could have found a way to get in touch.” But could they have? Would his parents have shared the info if someone asked for it? Probably not.

  Danny didn’t say anything, but the weight of the silence had Brad popping his knuckles. “Look.” He bent to pick up the basket, taking a second to figure out the right words. “It doesn’t matter now, anyway. None of it has anything to do with us, with this.”

  “It does. And I’m worried you don’t see it.” Danny sat on the bed again, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

  Knees suddenly weak, Brad sat hard on the floor. It took three tries before he could get the words out. “You want to break up?” Where had this come from? They’d been doing great, hadn’t they? Everything seemed to be moving smoothly. For the first time in a long time, he’d been happy.

  “God, no. I don’t want to, but this is killing me.”

  “What do you mean?” He clutched a towel to his aching chest.

  “Do you like me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “What do you like about me?”

  Looking into those dark, serious eyes, he knew Danny wasn’t looking for compliments. “You are the most cheerful, outgoing person I’ve ever met. I love your confidence, how you know who you are and you don’t apologize for it.”

  Danny took a deep breath. “Sometimes you make me feel like I should apologize for who I am.”

  If he hadn’t been sitting, Brad would have fallen over in shock
.

  Danny continued, “It’s like we only have a relationship when we’re here.” He gestured around them. “Anywhere else, I have to watch what I do, watch what I say. It’s like you want me to be someone I’m not, like you’re ashamed to be with me.”

  “That’s not it.” He tried to touch Danny’s knee, to reassure him, but Danny pulled his leg away. He pushed the hurt away. “You know why—”

  “I do know. And I didn’t think it would be a big deal, but I can’t keep living this way. I want to touch you, flirt with you, whether in this room or out there.” He pointed to the door. “It’s who I am. I can’t be in a relationship with someone who wants me to be someone else.”

  Brad swallowed back the lump in his throat. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  Danny nodded, face sad. “I know.” He got up and walked out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Brad ran.

  He ran until sweat drenched his body and plastered his hair to his head. He ran until his heart was ready to burst and his muscles burned. And still he ran.

  He couldn’t believe Danny had walked away from him.

  Danny knew what he’d gone through; he’d understood. Or so Brad had thought. He should have stayed away, kept his distance, as he’d intended. But no, Danny and his crooked-tooth smile and charming personality had wormed his way into Brad’s life. It had taken Danny less than two weeks to dump him.

  He should have known better.

  He turned down a street leading to the river. When he got back to the apartment he’d go online and find a place to sublet for the rest of the summer. Someone had to have a bed or a couch, or even a sleeping bag he could rent for a few weeks. If that didn’t work out, there was always his pickup and the parking lot of the Flying J. The only way to avoid the awkwardness that would undoubtedly suffocate him at the jobsite was to avoid Danny altogether. He might even have to quit.

  Avoidance is just another form of running away.

  Danny’s words echoed in his head.

  His foot slipped on a rock and he almost fell on his face. Only his windmilling arms kept him upright. He slowed and made his way to a wooden bench facing the river. He dropped onto the bench, clutching his side.