Page 29 of Holiday Wishes and Tentacle Dreams
“What shift?”
“My sea monster-watching shift, sweetheart. Several sightings have occurred here, so the Society tries to have someone on duty on this bench for at least a few hours every day.”
Jake couldn’t help but laugh at the notion of a bunch of elderly townies taking turns sitting in the winter cold for the sake of catching sight of a mythical creature, but when he did Dorothea shot him a deadly glance, communicating just how serious she was.
Uncomfortable at her response, Jake turned to Doren, who had gone as white as a sheet.
“Sightings?” the surfer asked, gripping the back of the bench with both hands as if to steady themself. What was wrong with Doren? Dorothea was being silly, maybe, but it was harmless.
“Oh yes, dear. We’ve had at least one sighting a year here since the founding of the Society. Last year, the tentacles got quite close to the shore.”
Doren said nothing in response, but couldn’t seem to keep their gaze off Dorothea even as she surveyed the horizon with her binoculars. After a minute or two of awkward silence, Jake threaded his arm through Doren’s to interrupt their brooding.
“Are you okay?”
Doren blinked several times as if returning from a dream, then gave Jake a small smile. “I’m fine. Just lost myself in my thoughts there for a moment.”
Jake leaned over and brushed his lips against Doren’s cheek. Doren laced their fingers through Jake’s in response.
“Should we get some lunch?” Jake asked, and Doren nodded. They headed off down the path, but Jake couldn’t help but notice that, as they walked away, Doren’s gaze kept flitting back to the old woman on the bench.
Chapter Ten
JAKE
Shame was a constant struggle for Jake. He’d hoped the energy of the kiss, of dating someone new, would carry him through into the following days, breaking him out of his depressive cycle.
Unfortunately, the opposite happened. When Doren was there, Jakewasquite content and engaged, but the rest of his time was spent in bed. The exhaustion took over, and everything was an insurmountable obstacle.
Showering? Too much work. Making food that wasn’t a bowl of cereal? Impossible. Getting up and opening the door when Doren arrived? Barely doable.
Jake took to leaving the door unlocked so that he wouldn’t have to get out of bed to let them in. Doren would enter, feed Miranda Priestly, and wait for Jake to wake up. Sometimes Doren would do the dishes or a load of laundry; sometimes they would read a bit.
That’s where the shame came in. The thought that he had this wonderful person waiting for him downstairs, this gorgeous surfer who wasveryinto making out with him, and yet he couldn’t move his body, was ridiculous.
But Doren never complained.
They simply waited patiently, and when Jake descended the stairs every day, whether or not it was afternoon, they were never less than ecstatic to see him. Doren would jump up from the chair and come in for a kiss, followed by handing him a cup of coffee.
There was no judgement, no disappointment. Not a mote of disgust at kissing someone who may or may not have brushed his teeth or showered. Only joy.
Doren would happily snuggle up as Jake drank his afternoon coffee, chatting about, well, anything really. Doren had many obsessions, and Jake was glad to hear about them, considering that he had trouble formulating words when he first woke up. He’d much rather listen to Doren go on about seabird migration, or the history of cobblestone, orpeppermint lattes, than have to speak.
Doren never complained about his silence. That was a gift.
On December 19th, Jake woke with a start. He’d had an intense dream, one of those nightmares where he knewsomethingwas wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. Instead, it was almost as if he was going about a normal, waking day with the portent of doom hanging about his neck.
The first thing he noticed was the light. It was still dark out. That was unusual. Jake hadn’t woken up before dawn in months. Yet he was fully awake.
Jake grabbed his phone and checked the time. 5:30. Early, yes, but not awful. It would be nice to get a head start on the day for once, instead of sleeping away the morning and half of the afternoon. He was okay.
The feeling dissipated once he noticed an important overlooked fact. The clock on the phonedidsay 5:30. 5:30 P.M.
Shit. It was evening. A line had been crossed in Jake’s mind, and on the other side of that line was a variety of scarytreatments he should now consider. Going back into a hospital program. Group therapy. Ketamine.
Jake swallowed hard as he threw on a shirt to head down. He hoped Doren hadn’t stuck around all day. The thought of sweet Doren waiting for hours upon hours filled his heart with sadness and shame.
As he swung open the door to the bedroom, stepping into the cold air of the hallway, Jake was stopped in his tracks by…was that music? Some kind of song was playing. The tinkling of a piano floated up from below. He couldn’t place the tune, although there was something familiar about it.