Senses 03 - Love Comes Home (DA) (MM) (8 page)

“I’d do anything for Davey.”

“I’m not saying you wouldn’t. But the life you had where Davey was a normal kid playing sports and going to school like everyone else is gone. It’s okay for you to grieve.”

Greg turned to him. “I don’t have time.”

Tom didn’t argue. Greg moved into the kitchen and began making dinner. In the quiet moments, Tom could hear the audio from Davey’s story. The meal was indeed simple, with heated frozen chicken nuggets, some vegetables, and french fries cooked in the oven. “We’re living on stuff like this because it’s what he can eat,” Greg explained. “I offered to help feed him….” Greg’s tone was heartbreaking.

“Things will get better,” Tom reassured him. The sadness and doubt he saw in Greg’s eyes tore at Tom’s heart. “The food doesn’t matter. It isn’t forever, and Davey will learn a whole new set of skills. Then he’ll be able to do a lot of things on his own. He’ll need some time, but it will happen.

“Davey, do you think you can make it to the table on your own, or do you need help?” Greg asked.

The audio stopped and Davey reached to set the tablet on the table, but seemed to change his mind. He held it and stood up, slowly making his way along the route he’d used earlier. “You don’t need to carry the tablet,” Greg said.

“But if I put it down, I won’t be able to find it again,” Davey said, clutching the tablet to his chest. Tom said nothing and lightly touched Greg on the arm. He could tell Greg was holding his breath. Tom was, as well, and they both breathed again when Davey touched the back of one of the dining chairs. He placed the tablet on the table and then pulled out the chair and made his way around until he was sitting.

“Very good, Davey,” Greg said.

“Do you like the story?” Tom asked, carrying the dishes that Greg had set out to the table. Greg motioned for him to take a seat, and Tom sat.

“Yes. It’s really good.” Davey placed his hand on top of the tablet like he had to make sure it was still there. “Can I listen to more after dinner?”

“Yes. But first you need to eat.” Greg placed a plate in front of Davey and explained where everything was.

Davey felt around and picked up one of the french fries and began to eat. He held the plate and continued eating. Tom noticed that Greg watched Davey rather than eating his own food. Tom didn’t say anything and just ate his dinner. What they were eating was less important than the company. It turned out Tom was hungry, so he ate, and eventually Greg did as well.

Davey, of course, made a mess. Half of his food ended up on the table rather than his plate. He’d pick up one piece of chicken and in the process knock another off his plate. Tom ignored it, and occasionally Greg would place the food back on Davey’s plate. Tom thought that might be confusing to Davey, but he kept quiet and let Greg do what he thought was best. Not that it really mattered. Davey seemed content enough, and Greg somewhat less nerved up.

By the time the meal was over, Davey had eaten most of his dinner and managed to drink a full glass of milk without spilling much. He got up, bumping the table. Tom steadied it, and they both watched Davey make his way to the sofa. He’d forgotten the tablet and began making his way back toward the table. Greg began to get up, but Tom touched his hand and smiled as Davey reached the table and began searching for the tablet. He came close twice, and finally Tom picked it up and handed it to him.

“Thank you,” Davey said as he took it and began to go back the way he came.

“Do you need help restarting the book?” Tom asked. Davey reached his seat with a small sigh. Tom stood and walked over to where Davey sat, then helped him locate the buttons to restart the audiobook once again.

“It’s hard,” Davey said and then turned around. “I never thought about how hard stuff could be until I couldn’t see it.”

“That’s why we’re going to class, so you’ll be able to do things for yourself. Tom says there’s software that will read the screens to you. I’ll see if we can get it on your tablet,” Greg said.

“Okay.” Davey smiled slightly and then settled back with his story.

Tom returned to the table and took his seat across from Greg. “I think he’s going to be fine,” Tom whispered. “He wants to learn and be able to get around. He only needs the instruction and skills. He’ll learn fast, I’m sure.”

Greg nodded. “A lot faster than I will.”

“You both have support. All you have to do is be willing to ask,” Tom said as he reached across the table and took Greg’s hand.

“Why would you do this?” Greg asked. “For that matter, why put in all the effort to research sports and things for Davey? What do you get out of it?”

Tom was stunned, but since Greg hadn’t let go of his hand, he didn’t pull it back. “Why do I have to get something out of it? Can’t someone be thoughtful?”

“Yes, but people rarely are,” Greg said. “At least I haven’t experienced it very much. Sure, I have friends, but how much can I ask of them before I don’t have any friends anymore? I have to do things for myself and for Davey.”

“And if someone is there to help or is willing to spend some time and effort to make Davey’s and your life a little easier, or to add some fun, then that person wants something from you?” Tom challenged. He gently tugged back his hand and shook his head. “I was raised to help others. When I was born, I had everything money could buy… except my parents’ attention. Luckily I had my grandfather, who spent time with me. I told you about him at the party. He came from nothing and said that with money and prosperity come responsibility.”

“So Davey and I are some charity case to fulfill your sense of responsibility?” Greg challenged.

Tom looked over at Davey, grateful he had earbuds in. Tom wondered where he’d gotten them for a second, but then he shifted his attention back to Greg.

“You aren’t a charity case,” Tom said, standing up. “I like you and I care about Davey. He’s a good kid who’s going to have a tough time of it. When I heard that story about blind kids playing baseball, I thought of him, and you.” Anger welled inside him. “I don’t understand how you could think I’d want anything from you.” He stepped back from the table. “I spent the week wondering if you were okay. Regardless of how things ended the last time we were together, I like you and I thought you liked me too. Maybe I was wrong,” Tom whispered, his anger shifting to disappointment. “Hell, I was only being nice.”

Tom took another step back and then headed for the front door. He wasn’t sure what to think, but it figured—he always seemed to end up with the crazies or the guys who only wanted to use him. He pulled open the door and paused, deciding he’d say good-bye to Davey. When he stopped to look at Davey, he was engrossed in his story. Tom turned to leave and felt a light touch on his shoulder.

“Why?” he asked Greg.

“I….” Greg hesitated.

Tom waited for some sort of explanation.

“It’s hard to explain. I’m sorry I jumped to that conclusion. I shouldn’t have.”

“You’re damned right about that.” Tom shook his head for emphasis, the hurt settling like an ache in his heart. “Freud said that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and sometimes a person who’s willing to help is just that—someone doing something unselfishly.”

“I know,” Greg whispered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thought that. You’ve been nothing but kind and thoughtful.” Greg moved back, motioning for Tom to come back in, and Tom closed the door.

“What’s going on?” Davey asked, taking out his earbuds.

“Nothing. Tom and I were just talking. Go back to your story.” Greg kept his voice level. He motioned back toward the dining table, and Tom followed him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Greg had to say. His better judgment told him to leave and cut his losses, but he sat back down.

“I told you at the party about the fight with my ex-wife,” Greg began, and Tom nodded. “After I got custody, my parents offered to help. They were living nearby and offered to help me take care of Davey. It was a load off my mind and a huge help. I hadn’t told them I was gay, but when Davey was about a year old, I had a conversation with them about it. They were surprised and didn’t say a great deal. When we were done, I got up to get Davey, and my father stood between me and my son and said I wasn’t fit to raise him.” Greg paused, his voice breaking slightly. “My own father.”

“My God,” Tom whispered.

“They said they would help me raise Davey but only on their terms. Actually, my father did the talking, and my mother sat silently. If she disagreed, she said nothing.” Greg took a deep breath and looked to where Davey sat, oblivious to this conversation. “I’ve never told him what they said, but I took Davey that day and told my folks no, thank you. Their help was not worth my self-respect.”

“I don’t understand,” Tom said. “What did they want?”

“Me to live my life the way they wanted. ‘There will be none of this gay crap,’ my father said, and he instructed me on the way I’d live my life if I wanted their help.” Greg humphed. “The funny thing was, at that time, I was just really figuring out who I was. But in that second I knew their help would come at too high a price. So I said, ‘No, thanks,’ took Davey, and left.”

“You walked away from your parents? Just like that?”

“I didn’t have a choice. They were trying to dictate who I was. The strangest part was, it wasn’t until they delivered their ultimatum that I really made up my mind. I guess you could say I had a bit of an epiphany standing in front of my father. See, he’s a big man, formidable, and when he stares at you, you not only see it, but feel it too. He stared at me hard, arms folded over his chest, and I stared back. Then I got Davey and left.”

“So you raised him on your own?”

“Yes. My parents thawed after a while, but I never forgot the lesson of that day: help comes with a price.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s a price you’re willing to pay?” Tom asked.

“Excuse me?” Greg said.

“What if the price demanded for someone’s help is what you’re willing to pay. See, I have a story about the other side of helping. I was”—Tom thought for a few seconds—“maybe nine, and on one of our Saturdays together, my grandfather took me to a place downtown where they served people free meals. Grandpa went down there sometimes, and they knew him. I don’t know if they knew
who
he was, but the people who ran the place knew him. He brought a donation, filled the trunk, and it was my job to bring everything inside. Then he and I helped with the cooking. It was a long morning, and I remember being really hot without air-conditioning in the summer. Once it was ready, I helped serve the food, standing on a chair because I wasn’t tall enough. I handed out rolls to the people who came through the line.” Tom stopped. “What shocked me was the number of kids, no older than me, and then I nearly fell off the chair when I recognized one of the kids. He’d been at my school the year before, but had left. We’d heard rumors, but nothing more, and then there he was standing in front of me, confirming what I’d heard: his family couldn’t afford the tuition any longer.”

“What did you do?” Greg asked. “Did you say something to him?”

“No,” Tom said. “I gave him his roll like everyone else and pretended I didn’t know who he was. But Grandpa noticed. He saw the way I looked at him, and on the way home he asked what had upset me. I told him that I’d seen Billy and who he was. My grandfather just nodded and drove me home. When school started up in the fall, Billy was there in my class once again. I never asked him why I saw him at the shelter, and he never mentioned it. The next time I saw Grandpa, I asked him about it. He shrugged and pretended to know nothing about it.”

“Do you really think your grandfather had anything to do with it?” Greg asked, leaning across the table

“I never gave it much thought after that,” Tom said. “Billy was smart—really smart. Anyway, he and I continued on in school together, and he was eventually valedictorian of our graduating class. In his speech, he talked about perseverance and being kind to others.” Tom leaned over the table. “He talked about how his father had lost his job and he’d had to leave the school. Then his family was contacted about how he’d been awarded a scholarship, and shortly after his father landed a good job with Country Foods. He’d never found out how he got the scholarship, but things turned around for him and his family. He went on to talk about how we should all share our good fortune with others. That was when I knew Grandpa had done something. I don’t know what, but he was behind all of it. I remember sitting at my high school graduation with all the other students, listening to that speech. When Billy was done, everyone applauded. I did as well, but not for the same reason as the others. I was applauding my grandfather. Though he’d been dead for a number of years, he was still touching people’s lives and they didn’t even know it.” Tom took a deep breath. “See, he did all that without anyone knowing. He didn’t make a big deal out of it; he just helped and he left them their dignity. That was the example I was given growing up. I’ve been given a lot in my life, and I’ve been lucky.”

“I understand, I think,” Greg said. “But what did you mean by paying the price I was willing to pay?”

“You’re right, Greg, that sometimes help comes with a price, and sometimes it’s more than we are willing to pay. And sometimes, it’s exactly what we want to pay to get exactly what we want.” Tom looked deeply into Greg’s eyes, willing him to understand the point he was making.

“I don’t get what you’re saying,” Greg said.

Tom nodded and stood up, then stepped to the other side of the table. He leaned down, locking gazes with Greg, and kissed him.

Greg hesitated for a split second before responding, returning the kiss. It didn’t deepen, but the energy was there like a live wire. Tom ran his hand gently over Greg’s neck, dipping into the open vee of his shirt and then stopping himself. He longed to touch, and every instinct propelled him to dip deeper, to run his fingers over the small buds he’d caught glimpses of through Greg’s shirt and then slide them farther down Greg’s belly. He wanted to hear Greg moan softly and know it was for him.

Tom heard movement and it pulled him back to the present. He jerked his hand away and looked over at Davey, who was still engrossed in his audiobook. Granted, he couldn’t see them, but he still didn’t want Davey to catch him making out with his dad. Tom pulled away, pausing to look into Greg’s eyes. Neither of them moved for a few seconds. Tom smiled softly and then lightly touched Greg’s shoulder.