My Hometown

by SJD Peterson

  “For the love of God, someone put me out of my misery,” he rasped, his throat dry and raw, making him sound like Joe Cocker.

  “You always have been a bit of a drama queen.”

  Another couple of deep breaths and a little bit of “man the fuck up” and Jimmy opened his eyes slightly. It took a second for his eyes to adjust and the pain in his head to dip back down to a more tolerable level before he spotted Eric sitting in the chair across the room, his feet propped up on the pulled-out bottom drawer of the dresser.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Eric said cheerfully.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “I do believe if you check your wallet, oh, and you might want to check your credit card statement too, you will discover that this is all on you, Jimmy boy.”

  “Why did you let me do it? Better question is why in the hell aren’t you smarting as bad as I am?”

  “Because contrary to popular belief, I am smarter than you. I quit drinking a good two hours before you did. And you’re a big boy. I figured with you being off at college, you’d have built up a better tolerance. I’ve seen Animal House, ya know.”

  Jimmy slowly rolled onto his side and carefully pushed up to a sitting position, dangling his legs off the bed, and hung his head in his hands. “I need water and food and aspirin. A lot.”

  “Water and drugs are on the table next to you.”

  “It’s too far away,” Jimmy grumbled. And he was too busy trying not to puke and willing the room to stop spinning to actually reach out blindly for them.

  “Like I said, you always have been a drama queen.”

  “No, just a queen,” Jimmy clarified. He mustered up the energy to lift his head, and like discovering the Holy Grail, he grabbed the water and chugged a good amount before he popped the two tablets into his mouth and then drained the glass.

  Sitting there holding his empty glass limply and breathing like he’d just run a marathon, he became aware that he was in his own room, wearing nothing but boxers, his clothes, wallet, and cell phone nowhere to be found.

  “Did I come home like this?”

  “No, I put you to bed. Your mom came in earlier and took your dirty clothes. Your wallet and shit is right there.” Eric nodded toward the dresser.

  With the utmost care, Jimmy pushed to his feet and shuffled to the dresser, keeping his eye on his wallet and not the floor—because it was moving—or the walls—because they were still doing that carrousel thingy. His wallet looked intact even if it was lighter than when he went out, but his cell phone hadn’t fared so well.

  “What happened to this?” he asked as he picked it up and studied the spiderweb pattern.

  “After about the tenth time it rang, you dropped it on the floor and slammed the heel of your boot into it.”

  “Makes sense.” Jimmy set it back down. It really didn’t, but it seemed a trivial thing at the moment. “I need to piss and shower. Are you just going to sit there being useless?”

  “Nope, I’m going to sit here and laugh at your hungover ass.”

  “I hate you,” Jimmy muttered and stumbled toward the bathroom.

  “That’s not what you said last night.”

  Jimmy stopped near the door and held on to the doorframe. “Whatever I said last night cannot be held against me.”

  It was a feat of endurance, but Jimmy managed to piss, brush his teeth, and shower without upchucking or face-planting. He deemed it a win-win situation and went in search of clean clothes.

  “You’re still here,” he grumbled. “Have you no shame?”

  “Not even a little,” Eric said with a grin wide enough to set off his dimples. “Plus, I promised your mom I’d make sure you made it to the kitchen.”

  “I don’t think I could eat. My gut really isn’t all that happy with me right now.” Jimmy pulled on a pair of old sweats and a T-shirt. Eric’s snort of laughter caused Jimmy to look down and only then did he realize he’d put his clothes on over his damp towel.

  He struggled to free it from his sweats and threw it at Eric. “Shut up.”

  “I didn’t say a word,” he protested.

  “You didn’t have to. I can read your mind.”

  “I seriously doubt that. Let’s go get some grub.”

  Jimmy stopped him near the door. “Um, did I do anything embarrassing, illegal, or immoral?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh God,” Jimmy groaned. “Which one?”

  “All three.” Eric chuckled and bounded down the stairs.

  Jimmy scrubbed his hands over his face and through his wet hair. He so hoped no one got it on video and that the hospital admins wouldn’t find out.

  When he stumbled into the kitchen, Eric was already shoving eggs into his mouth and Dad was looking at Jimmy with a disapproving expression. Mom was the only one he found a trace of sympathy in, and he went to her and laid his head on her shoulder.

  “I think I’m dying, Mommy,” he said pitifully.

  She ran her hands soothingly through his hair. “My poor boy.” She allowed him a few heartbeats to wallow in his misery and then shoved him toward the table. “Now suck it up and eat your breakfast. You have chores to do.”

  “Nobody loves me in this house,” he whined and flopped down into the chair next to Eric.

  “If you can’t run with the big dogs, you might want to stay on the porch,” his dad commented. “Eric here seems to be fine this morning.”

  “That’s because Eric poisoned me or forced me to drink or something. I’m not really sure, but I know it’s his fault,” Jimmy grumbled and filled his plate with eggs, home fries, and toast. His belly might not have been happy then, but it would be once he absorbed some of the alcohol with greasy and buttery starches. At least he hoped it would.

  “Now you stop telling tales,” Mom chastised and set a glass of juice and a mug of coffee down in front of him.

  “Thank you,” he said around a big bite of eggs. “And I’m not telling tales. I don’t remember anything. I must have been drugged.”

  “Or you simply can’t handle your whiskey,” Eric countered.

  “That reminds me. Mom, did the police show up?”

  “No, why?”

  He stuck his tongue out at Eric. “Illegal, my ass.”

  “Okay, so it wasn’t illegal, but embarrassing and immoral… oh yeah.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Suit yourself.” Eric shrugged and popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

  “Hey, where did you get that?” Jimmy asked, scanning the table. The more grease the better.

  “Sorry, you should have gotten up sooner,” Eric said unapologetically.

  “Why are you here? Go home.”

  “Boys, behave,” Mom said and set a fresh plate of bacon down.

  “At least someone loves me,” Jimmy announced and grabbed some bacon before his piggish best friend ate it all.

  “Now thank him for taking care of you last night and making sure you made it home safe,” Mom demanded.

  Jimmy shoved a whole slice of bacon in his mouth.

  “Don’t bother, Mama B, he’s got no manners and besides he told me plenty times he loved me last night.”

  Jimmy tensed. He hadn’t thought of that. How much had he revealed? Could he blow it off on the stupid rambling of a drunk who had just caught his boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—cheating on him again? Oliver!

  “Oh shit, now I remember why I smashed my phone. Did Oliver call here last night?”

  “I finally had to tell that whiny man to stop calling. That guy really needs to grow a pair,” Dad grumbled.

  A snort of laughter caused Eric to choke on his mouthful of eggs. “That he does, sir. That he does.”

  “I’m really sorry I got you all involved in that mess. I never should have let him move here.”

  “It’s okay, son,” Mom said and brushed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

  “My head hurts, still am at risk of praying to the porcelain gods, but other than that,
I’m okay. I had hoped moving here would make it easier to trust him again, but I should have known it was inevitable he’d do it again.”

  “Again?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, I should have known better. If it looks like a skunk and stinks like a skunk….” He shrugged.

  “He was definitely a stinker,” Mom said, which caused Dad and Eric to laugh. What else could he do? He laughed along with them. Oliver definitely stunk.

  LEANING AGAINST the railing on the back porch, Eric pulled the pack of smokes from his shirt pocket and lit one up. He was thankful for the moment of peace. As easily as they’d all fallen back into the familiar light banter, he was still reeling from the declarations Jimmy had made the night before. A big part of him wished he’d never learned Jimmy had wanted Eric for more than a friend. He was still undecided if he would tell Jimmy about the secrets he’d revealed or if he would just keep that information to himself. If he wanted to reestablish the closeness he and Jimmy once had, then he’d best keep his mouth shut. Relationships came and went, but friendship was forever.

  There was also that little issue of being totally fucking freaked out that he felt that way for a man, even if it was Jimmy. A lot of guys experimented with their buds when they were young, but he and Jimmy never did. He almost wished they had. At least then he’d know if what he was feeling for Jimmy was just some fleeting curiosity or if it was more. What if he gave in to his desires and it ended up becoming really fucking weird and it ruined their friendship? They certainly could no longer brush it off as adolescent curiosity. They were both grown men, for fuck’s sake.

  “That shit’s not good for you,” Jimmy commented when he walked out the back door.

  “Neither is drinking till you black out,” he pointed out.

  “Sure it is, as long as you have a good friend to take care of you.”

  Eric arched a brow.

  “Okay, not even then,” Jimmy conceded. “But I don’t do it every day.”

  “Point taken.” He dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with the toe of his boot. He then remembered where he was and picked it up and stuck it in the cellophane of his pack.

  Jimmy sat on the railing and wrapped his arm around the support post. “Thanks for getting me home last night.”

  “No sweat, after what you had to deal with, a little drunken binge was completely understandable. You doing okay with it this morning?”

  “Yeah. You know, it’s funny. I was worried I was the worst human being in the world because I had brought Oliver here. Allowed him to pack up and leave his comfortable surroundings and family when I didn’t trust him, and I’m not even sure I cared about him. I mean, what I did was still wrong, but after what happened, I don’t think I’ll lose any sleep due to my lapse in humanity.”

  “What about him?”

  “He’s not my problem.”

  “No, I meant are you going to lose any sleep over him? Being cheated on cannot be good for your ego.”

  “It did mess me up the first time, I won’t lie. Nearly went to jail when I popped the guy in the nose. But it’s true what they say: the first time shame on you, the second time shame on me.”

  “And who the hell is they?”

  “They, you know… they.”

  “Yeah, that made a whole lot of sense.” Eric chuckled.

  Jimmy’s smile fell and he dropped his head momentarily before he finally asked, “Did I say anything last night… um… you know, weird?”

  Eric started to come back with something about Jimmy’s lifelong weirdness but quashed the idea because in that split second he had to decide whether to tell the truth or lie. “No, nothing weird except everyone at the watering hole is now aware of Oliver’s lack of endowment.” Partial truth it was. It would serve no purpose right then to reveal everything.

  “Oh fuck, I didn’t?” Jimmy asked with apparent horror.

  “Yup, and how he squats over a mirror to shave his balls, about his nose job, his limp wrist.” Eric tapped his chin as if he were trying to recall it all. “Oh yeah, and you really, really despise being called sweets.”

  “I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again,” Jimmy mumbled and covered his face with his hands.

  “Aww, don’t worry, it was the dick size you shared with the bar, the rest of the shit was between you and me. I tell ya, Jimmy, I just don’t know what you ever saw in that guy.”

  Eric regretted the last comment the second it came out of his mouth when Jimmy’s confession came rushing back. “I picked what’s-his-name because he was nothing like you.”

  Thankfully Jimmy was oblivious to what he’d confessed, and instead of the conversation getting really awkward, Jimmy simply shrugged one shoulder and said, “I don’t know either.”

  Bullet dodged. “I gotta get home. That beekeeper is going to be at my place soon. You going to be okay?”

  “I’ll live. I’m going to beg Scott to do my chores and then crawl back in bed and do a little rehabilitating.”

  Eric waved good-bye and headed home to do a little rehabilitating of his own. Only it wouldn’t be sleep he’d be indulging in but trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do with the new information.

  Jimmy loved him, and not just in the “best friend I’ve known you forever” kind of way, but the in love kind. He had no idea how he was going to deal with that knowledge.

  Chapter Thirteen

  JIMMY PINCHED the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “Oliver, you have to stop calling. It’s over, there is zero chance we are getting back together, and you need to move on.”

  “I haven’t slept, eaten, or done anything but cry for three days. I can’t go on like this,” Oliver sobbed.

  “You’re going to have to. You cheated on me not once but twice—that I know of. I can never trust you again.”

  “Twice, I swear that’s all it was. You were ignoring me and I was so lonely and feeling unappreciated with you always with Eric or Scott or your parents. I had no one, Jimmy. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Sure, I understand that you’re a cheating piece of shit. Now stop calling,” he demanded and hit the Off button.

  Jimmy wasn’t sure which was irritating him more, the constant calling or the lame-ass excuses. Like it was his fault Oliver couldn’t stop fucking random men. The son of a bitch had actually set up the meet and fuck before they left Chicago. What kind of man in a committed monogamous relationship put an ad on Grindr? A cheating piece of shit like Oliver, that’s who.

  “Was that Oliver again?” Mom asked, coming into the living room where he’d been packing up some of her books and crafts.

  “Yeah. He’s not getting the hint. I don’t know what I gotta do to get it through his head that I’m not going to take him back.”

  “Change your number,” Mom suggested.

  “I wish it were that easy. My cell phone number has already been posted at the hospital. I can’t believe I was stupid enough not to think to get a second line strictly for business.”

  “Where is he staying?”

  “Does it matter?” Jimmy huffed and placed some more books in the box.

  “Not really, I was just curious is all.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. He’s staying at the Walkers’ boardinghouse. I’m hoping it’s only temporary and that he’ll either move to Coopersville or back to Chicago.”

  “You want me to speak to Janice?” Mom offered.

  Mom and Janice Walker were good friends, and he had no doubt Mom could get Oliver kicked out of the boardinghouse. But he wasn’t ready to stoop to that level. He simply wanted Oliver to go away, but if he didn’t, Jimmy might consider it.

  “Right now I think by being firm with him he’ll get the message. I can’t imagine that once he realizes it’s truly over, he’ll continue to make the thirty-minute commute. I’m sure he’ll move to Coopersville soon enough.”

  “We could always sic the Neff boys on him.”

  “Mom!”


  “What?” she asked, trying to sound innocent, but the smirk ruined it. “It was just a suggestion.”

  “Those boys have been kicked out of every bar within a hundred-mile radius for brawling. I don’t want him beaten up, just want him silenced.”

  “They could do that.”

  Jimmy pulled her into a hug and laughed. “You’re an evil woman.”

  She patted his chest and grinned up at him. “I get riled when someone messes with my boy.”

  “Settle down, Mama Bear, I got this.” When she looked hesitant, he added, “Trust me?”

  She paused a moment longer, but then sighed. “Okay, but I have a feeling this young man isn’t going to go away. So if you change your mind…?”

  “You’ll be the first to know. I ignored your reservations about my choice in men. I won’t make the same mistake twice,” he assured her.

  “Like you didn’t make the same mistake as on your eighteenth birthday?” she asked with a disbelieving expression.

  “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

  “Nope,” she responded flippantly and patted his cheek. “Now finish packing this junk up. I’m going to go start dinner.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about our last dinner in this house,” Jimmy commented, looking around the room longingly.

  “It’s not our last meal. We’ll be back in plenty of time to cook Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “I know, but it’s not the same.”

  “Everything changes, son. We just have to learn to stop wishing time away and enjoy the moment rather than constantly looking toward the future. When we do that, we neglect to take the time to enjoy today.”

  “When did you get so wise?” Jimmy asked as his chest tightened painfully. He might not have the years of wisdom that his mom did, but he certainly knew about neglecting to enjoy what was right in front of him.

  “I’ve always been wise. You’re only just now realizing it.”

  “I’ve always known. It’s just not cool to admit your mom is smarter than you.”

  Jimmy spent the rest of the morning packing up his parents’ things, his heart heavy as his childhood memories and treasures were wrapped in paper and tucked away. In his morose mood, he didn’t so much as spare another thought for Oliver. Sure, he was now part of Jimmy’s past but not one that would be missed or cause as much pain of loss as seeing his childhood home stripped bare. When the living room was finally finished, Jimmy’s heart couldn’t stand to do another room, not yet. He shuffled off to the office to find some mind-numbing task to do that had nothing to do with memories, treasures, or anything else that would tug at his heartstrings.