Page 14 of Up In Smoke
“Anton and I are working on Becca Bean’s Halloween costume!” Sawyer Nelson, Quick’s best friend, announces joyfully. “You should join us.”
“There’s so much glitter,” Quick says, sounding haunted.
I laugh and shake my head. “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.”
Quick has the kind of modern family I really admire, although I appreciate he went through a lot of heartache to get where he is now. His parents are very much ‘pray the gay away’ kind of people, so he denied who he really was for years, marrying a lovely lady called Meagan. They had their daughter, Rebecca, and he was happy to a certain extent for a while.
I’m not sure what triggered it, but eventually he did come out. The twist is…she was his biggest champion and protector. Still is. Especially when his own flesh and blood got nasty with him, calling him an unfit parent and trying to push him into conversion therapy. Meagan was there for him through thick and thin, including when he finally went no contact with them all. When she married her new husband, Brent, Quick was her best man. Even though he has his own place, the three of them co-parent Becca together.
I’m sure Meagan would be supportive of involving a fourth person into the mix, but I’ve never been aware of Quick dating. At least he’s got Nelson, who takes his role as honorary uncle very seriously. You’d have to if you’re committing to spending your day off helping hand make Halloween costumes.
“What’s Becca going trick or treating as?” I ask, genuinely interested.
Quick shakes his head as we wander out of the locker room. “A cyborg pop star,” he says like he can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “Apparently it absolutely has to have working electronic parts, or it just won’t do.”
“And glitter,” I remind him.
He scowls at me while Nelson laughs. “Can’t forget the glitter, bro!” his best friend cries, squeezing his shoulders and just generally hopping around behind him. Knowing Nelson, he’s making himself an ensemble to match Rebecca’s.
Seeing the natural way they approach their unconventional dynamic reminds me that some families do survive greater challenges, but also…it’s normal that some don’t. After all, Quick’s parents still pop up every now and again demanding visitation rights and even threatening to sue for custody of Rebecca, all while condemning their son to the devil.
At least my folks aren’t like that. We talk. I see them for the holidays. They just haven’t visited my place once in the seven years I’ve lived there. In fact, Jesse is the first person to occupy the spare room in that whole time. They always say they’ll make the effort one day, but…
Ah, it’s cool. They’re just getting on with life as best they can. Sometimes I think about growing up and how we had relatives in Mexico who we only spoke to on special occasions and only saw maybe once a year or even less. It’s only because of the internet and smart phones that we think it’s weird now if we don’t connect with family all the time. By the standards of a couple of decades ago, me and my folks are doing just fine.
Probably.
I leave Quick and Nelson debating whether or not Rebecca needs a real LED eye patch, chuckling softly to myself as I walk to my car. But there is a hint of melancholy to my mirth. My parents did what they could, I’m sure. But they certainlynever doted on me the way Becca’s parental pod does.Especially after…
That’s just the hand I was dealt. There’s no point in dwelling on it.
Although…it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why I’m pondering about the people I’d intended the spare room for versus who’s actually inhabiting it currently.
Jesse Silverman.
Is he still going to be there when I get home? What will I do if he isn’t? What will I do if heis?
The drive back to my apartment doesn’t give me nearly enough time to reach a satisfactory conclusion. But I only dawdle in the parking garage for a few minutes, deciding I’d rather know than not, and sooner rather than later. I take the stairs rather than the elevator to the fourth floor, preferring to keep moving rather than standing still even for twenty seconds.
Before turning the key, I take a breath, then push onward.
Both literally and metaphorically.
“Hello?” I call out, shutting the door behind me and dropping my keys in the bowl on the table in the entrance hall. “Jesse?”
Nothing. My heart starts beating faster. I try and remind myself as I move through the apartment that he’s a grown man, and if he wants to take off and keep ruining his life, that’s his own decision to make. I just don’t want him to. A lot.
I hesitate outside the spare room door. “Jesse?”
A groan comes from the other side and relief rushes through me. “Yeah?”
“I, um…”I was just checking you were still under my roof where I might have a chance of stopping you from doing something incredibly stupid.“I was just going to make breakfast. Do you want some?”
The pause stretches out. But then he groans again. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
Dinner had been awkward yesterday, but I’ll suffer sharing as many meals as necessary to know that Jesse’s eating properly again. That kitchen was…well, I shudder just thinking about it. Nothing in the cupboards or refrigerator but dirty crumbs, out-of-date ramen, and ketchup packets. He must have been eating something, but I have no idea what. Maybe that’s where all his money has gone—on takeout.
And other things.