Page 49 of The Blessing

chapter 21

zombie

Quinton makes me feel like my old self: the person I was before the boozing, fighting, and whoring around. He brings me back to the days when I was much younger and my life was much simpler. Before the drugs, fighting, and sex—I’d stay in my room all day reading comics and pretending I was anywhere but home. My life wasn’t perfect then, but it was before I fucked everything up so thoroughly.

When I think back to that time, I realize things had never been great for me. I always thought since I hadn’t been abused or severely neglected, my childhood really hadn’t been that bad. In many ways, it was fine, I did have some great memories involving my brother and father, but I never felt content. I’ve always felt like an outsider. I’d been depressed for a very long time. I never wanted to admit it growing up—but something inside me never felt quite right. Everyone would be smiling and laughing around me, and I’d just be there—merely existing.

Reflecting on my childhood now causes me to look at it with a more critical eye. Had my mother ever really been nice to me? Had she ever shown me any emotion, other than indifference, when it hadn’t directly benefited her? I can’t answer that question, mostly because I don’t want to believe what’s obviously the fucking truth—even when the truth is staring me in the fucking face. I can’t think of one instance where she was ever really warm toward me. When my dad was around, she’d show an appropriate amount of affection, but when he wasn’t… well, she’d barely even acknowledge my existence. I felt like the odd man out in my own home.

I think Dean picked up on it because he spent so much time making sure I was all right. He must’ve known something was wrong because whenever our mother would show him affection in front of me he always seemed uncomfortable, and almost apologetic. He witnessed the coldness in her heart, even though he never had to experience it firsthand. Perhaps that’s why he appointed me as Grey’s guardian; he knew that beyond my rough exterior and troubled past, I’d be able to love his son the way a child should be loved. Unlike my mother, I can give Greyson the love and guidance he deserves.

One particular memory has stuck with me from my childhood. It’s random, but I’ve always remembered it. When I was around six years old, I remember I went with my mother to one of Dean’s plays in elementary school. I’d been so excited about seeing my older brother—who had always been my idol—acting on stage with all of his friends. I wanted to sit on my mom’s lap so I could see better, but she wouldn’t let me because she was holding the camera. I remember feeling sad, but I’d been quickly distracted by the play. Halfway through, I had to go to the bathroom, but my mom didn’t want to take me because she’d miss some of the play. “Go ahead, Trevor. You know where the bathroom is.”I went off by myself and found the bathroom easily enough, but on the way back to the auditorium I got lost. I hadn’t recognized my surroundings and I cried because I was so scared I’d never see Dean again. Eventually, some nice older woman found me. I remember her yelling at my mom when we finally found her. As scared as I’d been, all I can remember was how frightened I was at the thought I’d never see my brother again. Looking back, I can’t believe my mom let me go off by myself like that. I couldn’t imagine letting Grey go anywhere alone at that age. Just the thought of him walking around empty hallways with tears running down his face makes me want to throw up.

“You okay, man?”

Quinton pulls me from my thoughts. I give him a tight smile, not wanting to talk about it. I hate how weak memories of my past make me feel. I feel as though I’m still the same helpless, confused little boy I was back then. It’s times like this when I wish I could drink. The cool taste of a hoppy IPA from Evergreen Tap House would really hit the spot right now.

“I’m fine,” I finally answer him. “Just thinking.” One of the things I like about Quinton is that he’s great about knowing when and when not to ask me questions. It’s as if he can sense my emotions or some shit like that. We’ve only hung out twice since we met this past weekend and we already get each other. “Do you think the girls are having fun?” I ask, steering the topic of conversation away from me.

He snorts and takes a drink of his soda. I feel bad that he can’t drink around me, but he’s insisted he doesn’t mind. “Well, they’re at the mall, so my wife is definitely having fun. I’m not sure about your girl, though. She’s never seemed like the type to like long shopping trips.”

Eden had insisted that Harper and Ronnie go with her to the mall for a “girl’s day.” I’m not sure what the fuck that means but, judging by the look on my girl’s face, it didn’t seem like that much fun. She doesn’t like to go shopping because she finds it frivolous, but she was happy about spending the day with her sister and Harper. Plus, she wanted to give me some “bounding time”—her words not mine—with Quinton. So, we’ve been watching movies with Grey while they’ve been out on their little adventure.

“Yeah, Ronnie doesn’t seem to like shopping. The only shopping I’ve ever seen her do is online,” I say conversationally as Grey begins to stir awake in my lap. He stretches his arms above his head and his mouth forms a little “o,” before he opens his eyes and looks up at me with a toothy grin. He has two little teeth now. My little guy is growing up so fucking fast! He yawns again, and reaches his little arms toward me, indicating that he wants to be held.

“God knows I love Eden, but I can’t stand to spend more than an hour at a time at the mall. I always end up sitting with the other miserable looking husbands at the food court while she does her shopping.”

I chuckle at his comment.

“You’ll understand one day. I’m sure Ronnie will drag you somewhere boring as hell until you’ll end up sitting with all the other men, too.”

Hell, I’d let Ronnie drag me anywhere and I’d be perfectly content.

I turn my attention to Grey, who’s resting comfortably on my shoulder. He’s happy now that I’m holding him close to my chest. “Dada,” he says as if he were testing out the word again. “Dada, dada, dada.”

Quinton smiles at the interaction and I quickly explain, “It’s the only thing he knows how to say.”

“Hey, I get it. Every boy loves his dad. Hell, I can’t wait until Eden and I have another. I’ve always wanted to have a son.”

I almost correct him, saying Grey isn’t biologically mine, but I keep my mouth shut. Grey is my son now, in almost every sense of the word. “I’m lucky to have him, I’d never thought I’d be a father.”

“Well, you’re doing great, man. It seems like you’re a natural.”

I smile at his compliment and look down at my son. “Well, he’s pretty cool and doesn’t give me too much grief.”

“I was thinking,” Quinton says after a while. “Eden and I can babysit sometime if you want. I know you must want some alone time with Ronnie.”

My mind reels with possibilities. I haven’t had a night to myself in so long and with the way our relationship is progressing, I know a night alone with my girlfriend is long overdue. I’ve purposely taken things slow with Ronnie, not wanting to ruin our relationship by allowing things to get too physical, too fast. I want her desperately, but I also want our first time together to be special. I don’t want to just fuck her like some asshole. That was how the old me would treat a piece. I couldn’t imagine the old me ever getting a chance to fuck a girl like Ronnie. I’m just not that guy anymore. Back then, I’d probably end up banging her brains out on the couch or the floor of my apartment. I shudder at the thought of it. My girl deserves the absolute best, that is, if she wants to move forward with the physical side of our relationship. If she’ll agree to let me make love to her, I’ll make sure it’s the most incredible and loving experience of her life.

“That’d be great, man. I could take Ronnie out on our first real date as a couple and see how the night… progresses.”

Quinton laughs at me. I’m know I’m being fucking dumb. He obviously knows what’s on my mind. “Well, good luck to the two of you.”

I don’t need luck. God, that overly confident thought makes me want to laugh. If I’m going to plan the perfect date for my girlfriend, I’m definitely going to need all the luck I can get.

Work is slowing down now that the end of September is approaching and the air is getting much colder. Despite the cooler temperatures, I still love this time of year. I love the way the cold air feels as it engulfs my lungs; it’s so cleansing after smoking for so long. Thankfully, the sun isn’t as painfully hot as it once was, which makes working outdoors for hours at a time less of a shit-show.

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite after work?” Jaxson jovially asks as soon as we’re finished for the day.