My Hometown

by SJD Peterson

  “I did. You slept through it.”

  Dad huffed but didn’t make any more attempts to pretend.

  “Hi, Mr. B,” Eric greeted, coming in behind Jimmy.

  “Is that you, Eric?” Mom called out from the kitchen.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And your son,” Jimmy pointed out with a mock pout when he walked into the kitchen.

  “Don’t be a brat,” she chastised lightly and pecked him on the cheek before going to Eric and giving him a hug. “Good to see you. Are you hungry? There’s apple pie in the pastry box.”

  “Wow, he gets a hug and apple pie. I only came from your womb. I mean nothing special or anything.”

  “He’s such a drama queen,” Eric sniffed. “And yes, I’d love a piece of pie.”

  “No you don’t. Not till you help me pack.”

  “Pack what?” Mom asked in confusion.

  Eric shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m as much in the dark as you are here.”

  Jimmy grabbed a couple of longnecks from the fridge and tossed one to Eric, who caught it easily. “Do we have any of those cardboard boxes left or did Dad burn them all?”

  “James Calhoun, stop being so damn vague. What do you need boxes for?”

  Oh, middle name. Not good. He popped the top on his beer. “Oliver’s moving out.”

  “What?” they both said in unison.

  “When did this come about?” Mom inquired.

  “When I caught him playing bucking bronc behind the horse trailers,” he said nonchalantly. Mom gasped and covered her mouth, and Eric’s eyes went wide, but Jimmy didn’t acknowledge either of them because his phone began to ring. He pulled it out and grinned at the display. He hit the Answer button. “Hello, Oliver,” he said in a cheery singsong voice.

  Jimmy had thought it impossible that Eric’s eyes could have gotten any wider, but he’d been wrong. He had to swallow down the snort of laughter. This wasn’t a laughing matter. Not at all. It was serious business.

  “Hey, sweets. Where are you?”

  “Getting ready to pack. Where are you?”

  “Packing? Where? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  Jimmy leaned his hip against the counter, listening to Oliver but not taking his eyes from Eric nor did he lose the smile that curled his lips. “Oh, I’m sorry. I decided to come home. I had things to do.”

  “What do you mean home,” Oliver gritted out. “I have walked all over this entire fairground looking for you and you’re going to tell me you’ve been home all this time?”

  “No, not the entire time.”

  “What the hell?” Eric whispered.

  Jimmy winked and gestured with his fingers for Eric to come closer. Eric stood next to him and Jimmy put the phone on speaker.

  “Are you coming back?”

  “No.”

  “No? How in the hell am I supposed to get home?” Oliver asked angrily.

  Jimmy could picture Oliver’s face getting bright red while he stood there with his hand on his hip. The image made him laugh. “Walk?”

  “Walk? Are you fucking kidding me? It’s a good five miles. You get back here right this minute and pick me up.”

  “No can do.”

  “What do you mean, no can do?”

  “I’m packing.”

  “Jimmy!”

  Oliver’s high-pitched screech caused both him and Eric to burst out laughing. Mom just shook her head and left the room. With the big grin on her face, Jimmy hoped she was going to go look for boxes.

  Jimmy let Oliver curse and scream for a few more seconds before he interrupted him. “Oliver, if you’d stop screaming, I’ll give you a suggestion on how to get home.”

  “Really? Really? You are going to give me a suggestion? It better be that you’re getting in your car and getting back here.”

  “Nope, sorry. But if you’re not in the mood to walk or call a cab, maybe that cowboy who was fucking you will give you a ride before he heads to his next rodeo.”

  The silence that followed was priceless, and he and Eric burst out laughing again. Jimmy turned off the phone and shoved it into his pocket.

  Eric held up his hand and Jimmy gave him a high five. “If we hurry, we can have his shit packed, on the porch, and be doing shots at the watering hole in thirty.”

  “Best offer I’ve had all day. Let’s go.”

  “Cool.”

  ERIC PULLED the last of Oliver’s clothes from the closet and dumped them into a box. Since they’d started packing, he’d barely taken his eyes from Jimmy, waiting and watching for the telltale signs he was breaking down. There were none. No tears, no red eyes, and no wayward glances. Jimmy simply hummed as he packed Oliver’s things with an almost gleeful expression on his face.

  “What?” Jimmy asked when he caught Eric staring at him again.

  “I’m waiting for the freak-out.”

  “There won’t be one.”

  Eric plopped down on the bed and ran his hands up and down his thighs. “Bullshit. You don’t have to hide your emotions. May I remind you I’ve seen you cry plenty of times?”

  “You have not,” Jimmy huffed.

  Eric patted the mattress next to him. “C’mere and cry on my shoulder. I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Fuck you,” Jimmy balked and flipped him off. “I’m not going to cry. Besides, if I were to, I know you’d tell everyone you could and I’d lose my macho image.”

  “You’ve never had a macho image,” Eric countered. He ducked just in time to avoid being beaned with a notebook.

  “You can go home now. I thought you were mad at me.”

  “I am, but I’m a big enough man to set it aside while you’re obviously in a fragile state. I’ll resume my pissed-off attitude towards you later.”

  Jimmy threaded his fingers through his hair and then leaned his shoulder against the wall. The happy-go-lucky expression turned serious. “This isn’t the first time.”

  “I know. You spent your whole life trying to piss me off at one point or another.”

  “No, you dork. I meant this isn’t the first time he’s cheated. Crazy thing is, I’m not really that upset about it, which is kind of freaking me out a little. I should be upset, shouldn’t I?”

  That didn’t surprise Eric. Oliver was just all around bad news. “I don’t know that he’d be worth the effort. He tried coming on to me the other day.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “Same thing I was thinking,” Eric laughed and then sobered. “Look, I’m not trying to make light of it. You may be acting like it doesn’t bother you right now, but it will hit you later once he’s gone,” Eric said gently. He remembered what it felt like when Tammy Curtis dumped him. It sucked. They hadn’t been that serious, and he’d definitely had no plans to make a future with her, but it still had hit his ego hard. He could only imagine what it would be like to be betrayed by someone you were in love with.

  Jimmy folded the tops of the final box and then shook his head. “I don’t think it will. I’m not angry or upset or sad. Honestly, I’m feeling okay about this.”

  “It’s called being numb. But I say let’s go have some fun and hopefully you’ll be too drunk to care when the numbness wears off.”

  “You buying?” Jimmy asked.

  “Nope, you’re the doctor. I’m just a poor-ass rancher.” Eric grabbed the box and carried it out to the porch, Jimmy right behind him.

  The boxes piled on the porch, he and Jimmy sat down next to each other on the top step at the same time headlights lit up the driveway.

  “You want me to give you two some privacy?” Eric offered.

  “Nope, we don’t need it. Ain’t gonna be no talking.”

  “Well, then do you mind if I go hide in the house and watch out the window like your mom is doing? ’Cause I have a feeling this is going to get ugly.”

  “Stay, please,” Jimmy pleaded and laid a hand on Eric’s thigh to keep him from standing.

  Eric swallowed down his
sigh. He really didn’t want to be here, but how could he say no?

  OLIVER STEPPED out of the truck and slowly walked up the walk, the light from the porch illuminating his face. Gone was the normal cocky confidence; instead he looked scared, which struck Jimmy as funny.

  Oliver stopped near the bottom step, wringing his hands. “Eric, would you mind giving Jimmy and me a moment alone?”

  “We don’t need a moment and he’s not going anywhere. He’s here to help load your stuff,” Jimmy said coldly.

  “Jimmy, please, can we just talk about this?”

  Jimmy nodded toward the truck, which was still running. “You want us to load it in that?”

  “Dammit, will you talk to me?” Oliver implored. “I can explain. It’s not what you think.”

  Jimmy laughed, he couldn’t help it. “Way I see it, it is exactly what I think. Well, unless you accidentally dropped your drawers, cowboy accidentally dropped his, and his dick just happened to land in your ass.”

  Eric shifted next to him, looking like he was about to flee, but his shoulders were shaking like he was holding back his laughter. Jimmy nudged him. “Was that too much information?”

  Eric covered his mouth, the snorts of laughter muffled, and he nodded.

  “Thought so.”

  “Jimmy, please.”

  Jimmy jumped to his feet, jerking Eric up with him when Oliver started for the first step. “Not another fucking word other than yes or no as to whether or not you want me to load your shit on that truck.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to go,” Oliver sobbed, big crocodile tears rolling down his face.

  Jimmy had no sympathy. He knew those tears weren’t for him; Oliver was crying them for himself because he’d been caught. “I can store your shit in the barn until you can make arrangements, but you are not staying here.”

  “Baby—”

  Jimmy pointed a finger at Oliver warningly as his irritation grew and began to bubble over into anger. “Do not fucking call me that. Now this is your last chance. Am I loading your shit on that truck or storing it? I won’t ask again.”

  Oliver bit down on his bottom lip, looking back and forth from Eric to Jimmy as if one of them would jump to his rescue.

  Not fucking likely. “You have until the count of three before I lose my cool and dump your shit in the burning pit and set it on fire. One. Two. Th—”

  “Store it,” Oliver cried out. “But can we please talk about this?”

  Jimmy nudged Eric with his elbow again. “C’mon, let’s get this shit in the barn.”

  Eric nodded and grabbed a box, practically running down the stairs, no doubt glad to be done with the uncomfortable confrontation. Jimmy was done too. He grabbed another box and without so much as sparing a glance in Oliver’s direction, followed Eric to the barn.

  As soon as they were in the barn and set the boxes down, Eric rounded on him. “You dick! You could have let me hide out with your mom. That was so fucking awkward.” But much to Jimmy’s surprise, instead of Eric knocking him upside his head, he pulled Jimmy into a tight bear hug. “I’m so proud of you. I hate that guy and never understood why you were with him.”

  “Yeah, well, we all make mistakes.”

  Eric released him and ruffled Jimmy’s hair. “But leave it to you to make the whoppers. You’ve always had piss-poor taste in dates.”

  Jimmy swatted his hand away. “Me? What about you?”

  “Pfft, I’ve never made one that bad.”

  “Connie Humphries?”

  Eric froze. “We are not to speak that name.”

  “Dude, she stunk so bad you couldn’t get within a mile of her without gagging.”

  “Oh, knock it off,” Eric huffed. “She wasn’t that bad. Besides it wasn’t her fault her mom had a penchant for mothballs.”

  “That was to disguise the scent of the rotting bodies under their house. I’m sorry, but that was one creepy family.”

  “I took her to one dance,” Eric protested. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his grin turning sheepish. “Plus I was a horny teenager and she had big tits.”

  “And even bigger teeth,” Jimmy pointed out and then whinnied like a horse. He darted out of the barn, Eric right on his heels. Luckily, Jimmy was faster than the bulkier Eric, and even better, Oliver was gone. “I’ll grab my keys,” Jimmy yelled and raced up the stairs.

  “Everything okay?” Mom asked when Jimmy burst through the door.

  “Never better.” He slowed long enough to peck her on the cheek and then grabbed his keys from the hook. “Eric and I are goin’ out for a while. Don’t wait up.”

  Mom didn’t respond, but he didn’t miss the huge grin on her face as he headed back out the door.

  He really should pay more attention to her when choosing someone to hang out with. She really did have great taste in men.

  “YOU’RE DRUNK.”

  “No, it’s true. I am a fucking idiot. I ignored my family and my best friend for….” Jimmy flopped his hand back and forth, and his brow dipped as if he were searching for the right word. He finally shrugged and settled on “That. The sex wasn’t even that great.” Jimmy leaned in, misjudging the distance, and nearly fell on his face. He caught himself at the last second by grabbing Eric’s shoulder and then slung his arm around Eric’s neck. “Tell you a secret. He’s got a really small dick. Like really small.”

  Jimmy’s voice was so loud that it certainly wasn’t a secret anymore. Eric was pretty sure just about everyone in the bar now knew of Oliver’s lack of endowment.

  “All right, that’s enough for you tonight.” Eric took the beer from Jimmy and set it on the bar behind them. He’d been smart enough to switch to straight Coke two hours before when he realized Jimmy was hell-bent on getting knee-walking drunk.

  “Aww, c’mon, man. One more,” Jimmy slurred.

  Eric slipped his arm around Jimmy’s waist and steered him toward the door. “I’ve hidden a fifth of Jack under your seat,” he lied.

  “You’re so good to me. I love you.”

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s keep walking.”

  “I always have, you know. Never loved anyone but you.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eric got them out the door and he propped Jimmy up against the truck while he searched his pockets for the keys.

  “I picked what’s-his-name because he was nothing like you,” Jimmy continued. “I couldn’t be with anyone who had the same hair color or eye color as you. Hurt too fucking much.”

  Eric got the door unlocked and helped Jimmy into the truck. He buckled his seat belt the entire time Jimmy kept babbling about things Eric wished he wouldn’t. He was the keeper of his own secrets, had his own demons, and he wasn’t about to continue this line of conversation. Especially since he doubted Jimmy would even remember what he’d said come morning.

  Eric slid behind the wheel and fired up the truck. He switched on the radio, tuning it to a country station and hoping to either drown out Jimmy’s drunken confession or distract him. It did neither.

  “It’s part of the reason I picked Chicago. I had to get away from you before I really fucked up our friendship. Aren’t I stupid? I ended up hurting our friendship anyway because I’m a big fat coward.”

  Eric maneuvered the back roads, feeling more uncomfortable than he had witnessing the confrontation with Oliver. It wasn’t so much what Jimmy was saying, although that was definitely part of it. But mainly it was because he knew these things were Jimmy’s secrets, and in his drunken state, he didn’t realize he was exposing them. It didn’t matter how Jimmy’s confessions caused Eric’s chest to tighten or that he had the crazy urge to pull Jimmy close and ease all his fears and wipe away the frown that was marring his brow. But he couldn’t.

  He was tied up in knots, going fucking crazy, but this wasn’t about him. I shouldn’t be hearing this!

  As the tension ratcheted up, Eric cranked up the radio. “I love this jam,” he yelled, although he had no goddamn idea what was playing. He just needed Jimmy to stop
.

  Luckily it was a song Jimmy knew and he began singing along.

  By the time they pulled into Jimmy’s driveway, Jimmy had blessedly passed out. Eric helped him into the house and into his bed.

  Eric’s heart shredded when Jimmy looked up at him from beneath the comforter and said, “You’re the most important person in my life.”

  Eric slipped quietly from the house, making it to the back porch before he lost it and his legs gave out. He sat on the top step and hung his head.

  Chapter Twelve

  OH, THE sweet horror of not learning from one’s stupid teenage mistakes. Jimmy had made a pledge that if he survived the half fifth of Crown Royal he’d drunk on his eighteenth birthday, he’d never, ever be that dumb again. The way his mouth felt as if it were stuffed with rank cotton balls, the drumline playing in his head, and the nausea he was suffering, apparently he was that fucking dumb.

  He’d give his right nut for a drink of cold water, but that would require movement and he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea at this particular moment. What the hell had he done last night? He remembered the pool game, numerous rounds while drinking, and having more fun than he had in a long time. Remembered playing darts—that’s when the shots started and unfortunately he sucked at darts. After that….

  Nothing.

  Christ, how many games had he lost?

  Without opening his eyes or making any sudden movements, he tried to assess if there had been any trauma to his body, but other than the pounding head, churning gut, and severe case of cotton mouth, he didn’t seem to have any other issues. Well, his bladder felt as if it were about to burst, but that was only a minor inconvenience at the moment. First he had to figure out a way to open his eyes without his head exploding.

  He took a deep breath. On three. One. Two. Three. He cracked one eye open. Ow! Nope, bad idea. He closed it again when the shooting pain in his head nearly caused him to upchuck.