by Alexa Land
“What TV?”
“The one you brought to me in pieces.”
“You’re kidding! That was just a ruse to come see you.”
“I know. I fixed it anyway.”
I smiled at him and said, “That’s kind of great, actually. You just don’t have it in you to leave something broken, or to turn away from a challenge. No wonder you like me. It doesn’t get much more broken or challenging.”
“You’re not broken.”
“I used to be.”
“You’ve come so far, Zachary. I’m proud of the incredible progress you’ve made, and I hope you are, too.”
“I’m…cautiously optimistic,” I said. “I still think about using maybe twice a day, but the pull’s nothing compared to what it once was. Here’s the thing, though. I feel like a glass figurine that’s been shattered and glued back together. I may be back in one piece, but those cracks are never going away. They’re a permanent part of who I am now.”
“But maybe that’s okay. Maybe the glue that’s holding you together makes you even stronger than you were to begin with. And maybe those cracks, the ones we all have, should be worn with pride. We’re still here, after all. We survived being broken into a million pieces, and we’ve put ourselves back together and become stronger than ever.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.” We were quiet for a while, and I put my head on his shoulder and looked up at the stars, trying to commit the names of the constellations to memory. After a while I asked, “What were you escaping from?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you’d escape out your apartment window. Were you trying to get away from your parents? You mentioned once that your dad was an alcoholic.”
“Exactly. He was a pretty decent guy, until Friday rolled around. He’d cash his paycheck and go straight to the liquor store, then spend the entire weekend drunk out of his mind. Somehow, he’d always manage to sober up and make it to work Monday morning. But the weekend…yeah, it wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He just shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
Where was your mom during all of that?”
“Getting smacked around with me, until one day, she just wasn’t there anymore.”
“What happened to her?”
“She left. I heard she met a guy. Don’t know if that’s true or not. All I know is, one day I came home from school and she was just gone. So was her stuff. I don’t blame her for running. I would have too, in her situation. Only, I would have taken my kid with me.” His voice was very quiet and emotionless.
“Oh God, TJ, I—”
“Don’t. Please? It was thirty years ago, and after what I did to my son, it’s kind of hypocritical to blame her.”
I moved over to my chair and tried to look at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “You didn’t do anything to Trevor, TJ. You were an addict, and you went to jail. I know exactly what you were going through, because I was there, too. The drugs were in control, not you.”
He shook his head and said, “It’s not the same thing. You never sold drugs or went to jail for it.”
“No, but I did get arrested for possession.”
“You also didn’t have a child depending on you when you started to use. That makes it a hundred times worse. A thousand.”
“You didn’t plan on getting addicted. Nobody ever does,” I said. “You were a teenage dad, for God’s sake! I can see how pressure could drive you to find an escape from reality. You didn’t know how it would turn out.”
“But I should have. I wasn’t a total idiot. If I’d never started down that path, I wouldn’t have missed out on nearly twenty years of my son’s life. He wouldn’t have been shot, and he wouldn’t have had to grow up raised by some asshole uncle. His life would have been so different.”
“He was shot? By who?”
“His mom,” TJ said quietly. “That’s why she went to prison. She’d been aiming for her boyfriend, apparently, and little five-year-old Trevor got in the way, on purpose. He was trying to save that guy, who in turn didn’t want a thing to do with him after she was locked up.”
“Jesus. I just assumed she went to jail for drugs.” He shook his head.
When I tried to take his hand, he pulled away from me and said, “Please don’t try to comfort me. I don’t deserve it.”
“You blame yourself for all of this,” I whispered, and he looked away. “TJ, you didn’t pull that trigger. You got addicted and went to jail, that’s it. How can you hold yourself responsible for the rest of it?”
“Because it’s all my fucking fault! Absolutely none of that would have happened if I’d stepped up to my responsibility as a dad, put down the fucking drugs, and been there for my son!”
I leaned back in my chair and was quiet for a while before saying softy, “I get it now. I didn’t fully grasp why you feel so guilty where Trevor is concerned, or why you don’t feel like you deserve to be a part of his life. I can see your perspective now, even though you’re wrong about it all being your fault. Taking the blame lets his mother off the hook, and I’m sorry, no. She doesn’t deserve to be blameless, not after what she did. Did you fuck up? Yeah. So did his mom, and so did a lot of other people where Trevor’s concerned, poor guy. But you can’t change the past. It’s over and done.”
“I know.”
“Here’s the thing though, TJ. Three years ago, you were given a gift. You and your son were reunited. You have this incredible opportunity now to get to know the man he’s become and to be a part of his life. But you’re pissing it away, because of all that guilt! And in the process, you’re continuing to deny your son the chance to know his father. I know you think you don’t deserve him after everything that happened, but can’t you see that he deserves you? He wants to know you. Trevor wants you to be a part of his life. He deserves that!”
TJ was quiet for a while. Then all he said was, “Fuck,” before getting up and walking to the edge of the campsite. His back was to me, and he just stood there for a long time, staring into the darkness. After a while, I decided to give him some space, so I gathered up my blanket and went back to the tent. When I reached the straw mat, I pulled off my dirty socks and left them behind before stepping inside and zipping the door shut behind me to keep the bugs out.
I was curled up in bed, lost in thought, when TJ came up to the tent sometime later and asked, “Is it alright if I come in?”
“Of course.” I turned up the lantern slightly, and it filled the space with a warm glow.
He let himself into the tent and sat down just inside the doorway. After a few moments, he asked quietly, “What should I do?”
“The same thing you did for me. Find a counselor. Work through some of that guilt, so it stops getting in the way of your relationship with your son.”
“You’re right.” After a few moments, he asked, “Do you really think Trevor wants to spend time with me?”
“Absolutely.”
“He should hate me though, for the million ways I let him down.”
“But he doesn’t.”
“I’m still letting him down by keeping him at arm’s length.”
“So, learn to stop doing that.”
TJ glanced at me and said, “You make it sound so easy.”
“In some ways, it is. I’m not saying you can just toss aside a lifetime of guilt. That’ll take time, counseling, and effort. But you can let your son into your life. That’ll do wonders for both of you.”
“It’s taken us weeks to find the time for a simple family dinner,” he said.
“No excuses. Be flexible, and give him lots of options. Hey, here’s an idea: you could text him and see if he and his family want to drive down here on Sunday. It’s not very far, and he has the day off and isn’t expected at Nana’s until dinnertime. We could go to that general store we passed on the way in and make brunch for everyone.”
“I don’t know why he’d want to drive all the way down here.”
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“Like I said, give him options. Maybe he won’t want to, or maybe he already has plans. But invite him anyway. Put the ball in his court.”
TJ thought about that for a moment, then pulled the phone from his pocket. He glanced at the screen and said, “I’m surprised I have coverage,” then started composing a text.
“Are you messaging him right now?”
“Yeah. It’s a little before ten, so he’s probably still at work. He’ll get it when he finishes his shift.”
“I’m glad you’re getting right on this.”
TJ sent the message, then set his phone aside and said, “Well, I already wasted a lifetime.”
“Not a lifetime. You both have decades ahead of you to build your relationship. As long as you’re still breathing, you have the opportunity to make a change. I got that one from Murphy. He’s a great guy and a damn fine counselor. It’s too bad he’s going to hate both of us now that we’ve inflicted Chaplin on him for the weekend.”
TJ grinned, just a little. “The cat’s not that bad.”
“Based on what? I’ve spent hundreds of hours in your apartment, and he’s no closer to warming up to me. The only time he seems to like me is when I’m unconscious, but I have this theory that when I wake up and find him on me, it’s because he was trying to smother me in my sleep.”
His grin got a bit bigger. “You hate my cat.”
“Your cat hated me first. You should actually call Murphy and make sure he’s okay. Or here, I’ll do it.” I pulled my phone out, then hesitated for a moment before asking, “How do you feel about asking Murph for a referral to a counselor? Are you ready to take that step?”
TJ nodded. “It’s time. Actually, it’s way past time.”
I decided to video call him, and Murphy answered on the third ring with, “The cat hates me.”
“He hates everyone. Okay, let’s see today’s shirt.” He panned the camera down to his chest, revealing a picture of a long bone above the caption ‘I find this humerus.’ “You never disappoint,” I said with a smile.
“This is true.” He pushed his thick dreads behind his shoulder and asked, “Are you calling to see if the cat’s murdered me yet?”
“Yes. Glad to see you’re still among the living. I also wanted to ask if you could help TJ with a recommendation for a counselor. He has some things he needs to work through.”
“About damn time! I’ve offered to find him a referral for years, what with that metric ton of guilt he’s dragging around. But does he listen to his best friend? No, he does not. Good thing he got himself a cute boyfriend to talk some sense into him. Where is TJ, anyway?”
“Right here,” I said, turning the screen toward TJ. He offered Murph a little wave.
I turned the phone to face me and said, “Thanks for your help with that, Murph, and thanks again for pet-sitting. You’re a great friend.”
“I really am.”
“How’s the pet-sitting going, overall?”
“The goldfish are no problem, they just float around minding their own business. But that cat is something else! Do you know that little furball tried to bite my ankle when I was using the toilet? What’s up with that?”
“Hell if I know. Sounds like he’s actively hating on you, sorry about that. All I get is clandestine attempts at murdering me in my sleep.”
Murphy smiled and said, “Clandestine, good word. You and TJ are starting to sound alike. Tell me, how many books did he bring along for your weekend camping trip?”
I glanced at TJ, and he called, “Fourteen, but I don’t intend to read them all cover to cover over the next two days.”
Our friend chuckled at that. “Figures. You two go have fun now while I raid your fridge and eat all your ice cream. I’ll start working on that referral in the morning. I already have a couple counselors in mind, but I need to see if they’re accepting new clients.”
“You’re awesome, Murph. Talk to you soon.” After we disconnected, I set my phone aside and told TJ, “He’s amazing.”
“I know. He does so much for us, and how do I thank him? By making him spend time with Chaplin.”
I grinned at him. “Shame on you.”
TJ grinned too, but then he said, “Seriously though, I wish I could pay him back somehow for the million things he’s done for us. I always come up short, through.”
“No, you don’t. He knows you have his back, just like he has yours, and he’s told me dozens of anecdotes about things you’ve done for him over the years. Don’t you think it all balances out in the long run?”
“I hope it does.”
“Why are you all the way over there?” I held up a corner of the blanket and said, “Come here, TJ.”
He crawled under the covers with me, and I turned off the lantern. Leaves rustled as the breeze picked up outside, and we snuggled close, comfortable and secure in our little tent in the woods. As we held each other, we began to talk with hushed voices, the way people spoke in church, with a sense of reverence for the peacefulness that surrounded us.
We ended up talking all night, about everything, about nothing. Just talking. I felt so close to TJ, so safe. I could tell him anything, and I knew he’d understand. That was such an incredible gift.
Sometime before dawn, as he started to drift off with his head on my chest, he murmured, “What would I do without you?”
I held him securely and whispered, “You never have to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-One
It was warm and cozy in the tent the next morning, as long as we stayed under the covers with the little heater cranked up. But eventually, the need for a restroom drove us from the tent, and I exclaimed, “Holy crap, did we get transported to the Arctic tundra? It’s about twelve degrees out here!” TJ informed me that it was actually in the high forties. Close enough.
We put on our shoes and literally ran to the restrooms. The exercise warmed us up a bit. So did the roaring fire TJ built as soon as we returned to camp. We worked together to make coffee and a quick breakfast on the rickety propane camp stove, and we ate our meal while huddled around the fire. After we cleaned up, I said, “I’m going back to bed and staying there until I’m sure my balls are no longer at risk of freezing off.”
TJ went with me. We each picked out a book and got comfortable amid the blankets and pillows. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair as we read.
His hand stilled after a while, and he was staring into space when I glanced up at him, the book on his chest forgotten. “You look like you have a lot on your mind,” I said.
He blinked at me, bringing himself back to the present. “I was just thinking about what happened at the gallery yesterday. Christopher Andrews seemed so sincere, and he said he loved every one of the pieces we brought in. Do you think…I mean, they won’t actually sell at the prices he suggested, will they?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“But they’re just these little toys I make out of junk.”
“Christopher didn’t look at them that way, and he loved the fact that they were made out of recycled parts. He thought that added to their charm.”
“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” TJ said, “but that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m sitting here thinking about what that money could do for us, and the romantic dates I could take you on with my share, if he sells even two or three pieces a month. But nobody’s going to pay those prices. They’re just not.”
“I guess we’ll see what happens. Oh, and it’s sweet that you want to be able to take me on romantic dates, but we’re actually on a wonderfully romantic one right now.”
TJ brushed my hair back gently as he said, “Still, though. I’ve always wished I could do more for you.”
“Isn’t there anything you want for yourself?”
He shrugged and said, “It’d be good to build up my savings.”
I grinned at that. “So practical! Isn’t there anything you’d want to buy for yourself?”
TJ thought ab
out it, and finally came up with, “Well, if I had money to spare, I’d probably get a couple more fish for my tank.”
“They’re goldfish, how much could they cost?”
“More than you might think.” His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out and read the message before turning the screen to face me. The text from Trevor said: Thanks for inviting me, sounds fun. I’m going to come on down, so’s the family. See you soon. TJ said, “He just means Vincent and Josh, right? Not, like, all the Dombrusos.”
“I assume so. Hey, why don’t you text Josh and ask him to invite Darwin? I bet he’d like that.”
TJ fired off a text, then rested his hand on my shoulder and said, “Sorry that half our romantic weekend getaway is going to turn into a family thing.”
“No, this is good. You and Trevor need to spend some time together. Maybe you two can go for a hike after brunch tomorrow and talk a little.”
“We don’t exactly have that kind of relationship. He’d probably think I was crazy if I hit him with, ‘Hey son, how about going for a hike with your old man?’ Like all of a sudden, I’m acting like we’re in a beer commercial or something.”
“It doesn’t have to be some big, cheesy moment. You could just casually suggest going down and buying more firewood at the park entrance or something.”
“Okay, you’re right.”
I sat up and stretched, then said, “It seems less subarctic now, so I’m going to fold down a couple of the privacy flaps and let in some fresh air. Camping in November might have been a slightly crazy idea, not that I’m complaining. I’m just saying next time, I’m packing some long johns.”
“I should have gotten us some thermals. I’d checked the weather and it said it was going to be in the sixties all weekend. It may be November, but it’s also California. That’s the daytime high though, and it did get a bit brisk last night.”
As we were talking, I unzipped a panel over one of the mesh windows and rolled it up, then moved over to the door panel and started to do the same thing. I asked TJ, “Do we have a plan for the day, and does it involve anything rugged and outdoorsy? If so, I’m going to need some time to draft a formal protest.”