Page 44 of From the Ashes
“So, how are things?” he asked, plopping down in the chair. He popped open the tab of his can and took a swig. “Everything going alright?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, taking a seat beside him. I left my can on the small side table, waiting for the pressure to recede. “I guess so.”
“You guess so?”
“It’s just the same old stuff,” I added. “Things aren’t getting worse. But they aren’t getting better either.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to it. How are things with you?” I asked, hoping to change the subject. Talking about my problems was something I tried to avoid. “Did your dad recover from his surgery alright?”
“Yeah. He’s been a right pain in the ass ever since though. Being waited on while he was laid up spoiled him,” Patrick laughed. “But he’s getting around okay now. Seems that double bypass really did him a world of good. I’ve never seen him so energetic. Now if I could just stop him from eating junk for every meal, he might actually live a bit longer.”
“My mom was that way too,” I smiled, recalling the memories. “We didn’t have a lot of money, but she always made sure we had tons of junk food around the house. And she was always bringing fast food home after work.”
“You must miss her.”
My smile faded. “Yeah.”
It had taken me a long time to start speaking in past tense about her. Even so, there were still times I didn’t realize she was gone until someone mentioned it.
“You ever gonna get that SUV up and running?” Patrick asked, changing the subject for me. “It might need a little work to get it going, but I’m sure it would get you around just fine.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to be in a car ever again.”
“Charlie… I understand what you’re saying, but… isn’t it a bit much to sentence yourself to life inside the confines of this tiny town?”
My gaze caught his as I furrowed my brows in anger. “You mean likeyoudid?”
I could tell from the look on his face that I’d gone too far. Immediately I felt the guilt well up in my chest.
“I’m sorry, Patrick… I–”
“No,” he said, holding up a hand to stop me. “You’re not wrong. I did choose to stay here in Creekside instead of taking that footballscholarship up in Portland.” He looked up at me, his gaze intense. “But Ichosethat, Charlie. I didn’t stay here out of fear. I know you have your problems and your reasons. But I stay here in Creekside because I want it to be my home. You stay here because it’s the prison you’ve crafted for yourself.”
That got my hackles up immediately. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I spat, getting up from my chair. “I have a disorder!”
“Charlie,” he said softly. “I’d like to think we’re friends.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but he silenced me once more with a wave of his hand.
“I say this with all the love in the world. You are a good man and you deserve to be happy. But sometimes it’s hard to watch you play victim to your own trauma. I get it. What happened to you was awful. Nobody should have to live through that. But you did.” He looked at me with pity in his eyes. “But what good was you surviving if you refuse tolive?”
My jaw worked, my muscles tensing over and over as I gnashed my teeth, trying to figure out what to say. But nothing would come. I wasn’t sure if I believed he was right, but I knew that hedefinitelywasn’t completely wrong either. And that pissed me right the fuck off.
“I’m gonna go finish the lawn,” he said at last, getting up from his chair. Before he left, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tyler and I would really like to have you over some night for board games or whatever. We could even come here if you like. He really wants to meet you still.”
“I’ll think about it,” I grumbled, trying not to be too venomous. After all, Patrick was my only friend in this town. He and his boyfriend were the only other gay men I knew. “I... I’m going inside.”
Patrick squeezed my shoulder and let me go. “Talk to ya later, Charlie.”
I stomped back inside, the lawn mower firing up a few seconds later. Leaning against the wall once more, I let myself slide to the floor. In my attempt to forget about Nix, I was reminded how pathetic my life was here in this tiny town. Patrick wasn’t trying to hurt me, I knew that logically. And when I really thought about it, I wasn’t mad at him.
I was mad at the situation, mad at the hurt I’d experienced, and mad at myself for being hurt in the first place.
If only the accident had never happened. Then, just maybe, I could be happy.
CHAPTER 19