Page 2 of Beautiful Trauma
“No,” I said more certainly. “I’ll text you later and let you know everything is okay. Love you, Geoff.”
“Love you, H.”
I offered a watery smile then wiped my tears, squared my shoulders, and walked toward the porch.Abomination. Disgusting. Filthy. I regret the day you were born.If my own mother couldn’t love me, who could?
The front door opened when I stepped onto the porch. A tiny woman with gray hair and the kindest eyes I’d ever seen smiled up at me. “Oh, my lost lamb. Are you Henry?” Unable to speak, I nodded. “It seems like you found us just in time.” Delicious aromas wafted out of the open door, and my stomach growled, reminding me how long it had been since my last meal.
Esther was a retired nurse who lived down the street and volunteered at the transition home. She’d been a widow for a while, and instead of wallowing in grief over losing her Morty, she transferred her love and devotion to the boys of Ryan’s Place.
A deep hunger for so much more than food prodded me to open my mouth and speak. “In time for dinner?” I asked.
“That too,” Esther replied with a sweet smile. “Come in and make yourself at home. There are two empty rooms upstairs—one at the end on the right and the other across the hallway on the left. One overlooks the front yard, and the other overlooks the back. If you choose the back room, be cautious of Mr. Robbins. He has no regard for the neighbors and doesn’t bother pulling his shades when he undresses. I guess he thinks since our residents are gay, they don’t mind an eyeful of his drooping twig and berries. I’ve tried telling the old goat that being gay doesn’t mean you want to see every man without clothes, but there’s no teaching some people.”
I chose the room overlooking the front yard. It wasn’t very big, but it was immaculately trimmed with pretty bushes and flower beds which gave lovely bursts of colors. I learned the next day the residents were responsible for cutting the grass and weeding the flower beds. I’d had plenty of experience doing those tasks because my parents had insisted that having chores made kids more responsible. I liked staying busy because it kept my mind off the current state of my life. Esther liked my willingness to help, and we spent many hours bonding those first few days.
I knew she wanted me to open up and talk to her about what was troubling me, but I couldn’t. The person I’d trusted most in the world had rejected me and turned me out on the street. Part of me knew Esther was different, but I wasn’t capable of trust right then. She never pushed; she just gave me infinite, patient love.
The owner of Ryan’s Place, Archie White, worked from home as an accountant in addition to his duties running the transition home. One day I passed his office and heard him mumbling swear words as he frantically searched for something on his desk. Whatever he needed was hidden amongst the stacks of files and piles of paper. I thought it was a miracle he ever got anything accomplished.
“Can I help you sort this out, Archie?” I asked timidly.
He’d blinked at me behind stylish glasses for a few seconds before he accepted my offer. I helped him file the miscellaneous receipts on his desk, determine which invoices were still outstanding, alphabetize and organize his files, send out invoices for his accounting services, and set up a daily planner for him to stay organized.
“You’re a lifesaver, Henry,” Archie exclaimed enthusiastically when we finished. I basked in his praise, loving how good it felt to be useful and appreciated.
A week later, Archie’s desk was just as cluttered as it was before my help, and he was just as grumpy. That’s when he decided to offer me a position as his personal assistant. Even with my new responsibilities, I still made time to do physical chores because I needed to physically exhaust myself before I could sleep at night.
My transition wasn’t quick, and I was still a work in progress, but by mid-December, I was working a full-time job as an assistant for a lawyer friend of Archie’s and saving money for my own place. I attended bimonthly therapy sessions to deal with my anger and grief, and it was during one of those sessions that I had an epiphany.
When Esther said I’d arrived at Ryan’s Place just in time, she hadn’t meant for dinner. I had arrived in time to save my life. If not for Esther, Archie, and everyone else at Ryan’s Place, I wouldn’t be out on the town celebrating my twenty-first birthday with my best friend. I would’ve been another sad statistic: a young gay man who didn’t think his life was worth living. I knew better now, even if I had occasional setbacks.
“Earth to Henry!” A good-humored shout pulled me from my musings. Geoff smiled and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“I said there’s a sexy silver fox checking you out.”
“Nah,” I said, dismissing him. “Doubt it.”
“He’s been staring at you for fifteen minutes.”
“The old guy probably can’t see,” I quipped.
“Nine o’clock,” Geoff said, tipping his head to the left.
I glanced at my watch. “It’s eleven.”
Geoff threw his head back and laughed like I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Then his eyes widened, and he sobered up immediately. “He’s coming in hot.”
“What? Who?”
“The silver fox. He’s making his move. I swear, Henry, it’s like talking to a seventy-one-year-old man instead of a twenty-one-year-old.”
“I’m sorry I don’t know what the cool kids say these days. You know I’ve lived a sheltered life.”
“No worse than mine. You just followed all the rules while I broke them.”
“That’s you. A rebel without a cause.”