Nesting Habits Page 4

  “You don’t owe anyone an explanation, Phil. You don’t have to say anything you’re uncomfortable with. And while we’re on the subject, you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with either. You decide what to do and when to do it. Understand?”

  Phil nodded and then looked up—he was afraid he would cry from frustration. “But I d-do want to.”

  Jerry nodded. “Then you should.” He smiled. “Lee’s a good guy, and it’s clear there’s something between you, so just go until you have to stop and then start again when you can.”

  Jerry had a knack for making things sound simple. Not easy, but simple.

  “C-can I ask you something else?”

  “Phil, you can ask anything, anytime. You know questions only bother me when I don’t know the answers.”

  Phil smiled and his chin shook, which started the rest of him shaking again. “I never… I mean, I never thanked you for h-helping me. Why did you? I don’t mean to s-sound ungrateful—”

  “Hold on. You don’t sound ungrateful. It’s a logical question. And the answer is simple, unlike everything else in your life: you needed someone to fight for you, to help you, and I was in a position to do it. I’m glad I was. What you went through—nobody should have to go through anything like that, and especially not alone.”

  Phil swiped at his cheeks, but even though they burned, they were dry.

  “I know you wanted to give up, more than once or twice, but you didn’t. What happened to you would’ve broken a lesser man. You know that, don’t you? I’m proud of you, Phil. It wasn’t easy, and may never be easy, but you’re still standing.”

  Jerry stood and slowly approached the bed. Phil looked up, and when he realized Jerry would hug him, his eyes stung, but at the same time he felt like smiling. When Jerry wrapped both arms around his shoulders and pulled him close, Phil hugged him back.

  They stayed like that for a few minutes, and then Jerry moved away the half step he usually let stand between them. He smiled and then sniffled.

  “Thanks, Phil.”

  “I was just going to s-say that to you.”

  Phil wasn’t sure what Jerry was thanking him for and didn’t want to ask. The day had been exhausting, and he was ready to burrow into bed and read until he fell asleep. He was relieved when, after a moment’s pause to give him a chance to ask another question if he would, Jerry turned the conversation to food.

  They tried out the cupcakes—which were perfectly delicious without frosting, even if they did tend to crumble into pieces—and then said good night.

  Phil had left his phone on his desk, and normally it would’ve been dark because he rarely got calls or messages from clients on the weekends. But he had a new text.

  One word from Lee: Yes.

  He got into bed and puzzled over that message. One word from Lee was more interesting than a few thousand by someone he didn’t know, but this one didn’t make sense. Was it in response to his message? Maybe he just didn’t understand why people did the things they did; maybe he would never understand. Could someone like Lee really want a guy who couldn’t get a simple message?

  Earlier Phil had tried to prepare himself for taking the next step with Lee, but would Lee even want that? Sure, he enjoyed the blow job, but it’s a little difficult to not enjoy a blow job. Did he realize it meant more than just giving in to the overwhelming desire to suck a cock? Did he guess it was him Phil wanted, his dick and his lips and…. Was it possible he felt the same?

  Wow.

  LEE CALLED early Sunday morning. Phil was still in bed while he listened to Lee say his Uncle Lenny called him in to work—at double time—on an emergency job in a church basement.

  “Do you have any plans for next weekend?”

  Phil smiled. He didn’t even have any plans for breakfast. “No.”

  “How about if I pick you up and we head out to my mom’s place?”

  Phil’s stomach shivered. Meet his mom? Phil barely remembered his own mother. Among the things that had survived the sixteen years since he’d last seen her were that she had red hair and called him Phillip Anthony.

  A car door slammed in Phil’s ear and brought his mind back to the present. He had no idea what Lee expected him to say and panic licked at his heels.

  “Um, I kind of wanted to ask you a favor.” Lee’s car started, the familiar rattling of the engine helped Phil relax.

  “O-okay.”

  “Don’t you want to know what it is first?”

  Phil shrugged but then remembered Lee couldn’t see. It didn’t really matter, though. Whatever it was, he wanted to do it. “O-okay.”

  “Well, two of the restaurants she sells herbs to have closed in the past few weeks. She thinks she doesn’t need to advertise, but I think if you could get some good pictures of the herbs and her place, then Heidi could design some flyers or ads or whatever.”

  Traffic sounds and honking disturbed Phil’s enjoyment of listening to Lee’s voice while he lounged in bed. Sunshine streamed through the gap in the curtains over his tiny bedroom window, and even though they wouldn’t be spending the day together—Lee had thought of him. The day was off to a good start.

  “S-sure, just let me know what time. You need to hang up now before you get in an accident. Jerry doesn’t handle p-personal injury cases, so you’d be left to the whims of f-fate.”

  Lee chuckled and Phil’s lips tingled in response.

  “I’ll call you later. Have a good day, Phil.”

  “Y-you too. Lee.”

  Phil dropped his phone and hugged his pillow. He had plans for next weekend. With Lee. He’d never been to a farm before—he’d seen them alongside Highway 26, but it still seemed like farms belonged to another era. Still, the prospect of taking pictures in a completely new place—for Lee—wiped away all but the tiniest bit of his fear that Lee’s mom would hate the idea of some strange guy messing around on her property, taking pictures of her plants.

  That would take even longer than the heron-watching expedition. And it would probably be chaste. It was his mom’s place, and he had a little sister who lived there, so they wouldn’t be alone. Phil was surprised to realize he was disappointed.

  Phil

  LEE HAD suggested they leave at ten or eleven, and then his voice trailed off, inviting Phil to choose the time. He thought Lee would want to sleep in after working a long week, but Phil worried he’d miss the best light and wouldn’t get any decent shots. They settled on eleven. The light was best early in the morning, but maybe they’d stick around for the second best, late afternoon or early evening.

  When Lee pulled up in front of the house, Phil ran through the rain and wondered why he’d worried about lighting. Of course it would rain if he wanted to get pictures of a farm. For Lee.

  Lee pushed the passenger door open and reached for Phil’s camera bag to help him get inside faster. Phil appreciated the thought but was soaked just from running from the house to the car. They spent a short uncomfortable moment not quite looking at each other, and then Phil reached for his bag.

  “Are you s-sure we shouldn’t postpone this?”

  A panicked look raced across Lee’s face and was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He turned to face Phil over the console. “It’s not raining in Willston. At least it wasn’t twenty minutes ago. But if you changed your mind, we don’t—”

  “I haven’t changed my mind.”

  Lee smiled and started down the street. “There’s a towel on the backseat.”

  Phil twisted and was surprised to see a fluffy red towel folded neatly on the backseat. He put his camera bag on the floor between his feet and picked up the towel. It smelled like a meadow.

  “You’re prepared. W-were you a Boy Scout?”

  The grin fell from Lee’s face when he frowned and barked a quick no. Phil made it so his hair wouldn’t drip all over everything, and was just about to apologize when Lee sighed.

  “Sorry. That’s just a sore subject.”

  “N-no problem
.” No big mystery there. He didn’t want Lee to feel he had to relive it for his benefit, but wasn’t sure how to say that without saying it.

  Lee drove in silence for a little while, and when they reached the highway, he sighed again. “I should probably warn you about my sister. She may ask some strange questions. I’ll run interference, if you want, just give me a signal.”

  Phil didn’t quite know how to answer that. He didn’t want to insult Lee’s sister—he hadn’t even met her yet—and wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know Lee’s idea of a strange question. He was saved from spiraling down into complete silence by a song on the radio. He asked about it, and Lee gave him a strange look that was mostly smile.

  “You like Tool?”

  “If this is Tool, then yeah.” Phil smiled. Being completely stupid about music bothered him less and less. He liked the way Lee showed him around the music he listened to, like a tour guide through a normal guy’s life.

  The next song was just a lot of growling and screaming. Lee smiled as he reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a cassette tape. He showed it to Phil and then slipped it into the player: Tool. The glove box door fell back open, and it took both of them shoving it into place before it caught. By the time that happened, Phil realized he’d gotten some wood—just from Lee’s hand being that close. He hoped Lee didn’t notice.

  They talked about music as the car shimmied and hydroplaned its way west. Lee turned off the main highway just past the trail, and the car strained a little up the hill. Phil was busy trying not to gape like a tourist at the natural beauty on either side of the two-lane road when he realized the song playing was about one possible future created by the sexual abuse of a child. He couldn’t help the sound that forced its way out of him, something like the Whoa he’d heard when he told Lee he didn’t listen to music.

  “Everything okay, Phil?”

  He nodded. His whole body trembled, but his smile wasn’t forced. “I didn’t know people wrote songs about stuff like this.”

  Lee was silent for a moment. “You want me to turn it off?”

  “No. It’s a good song. I l-like it.” And that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s true.

  A few minutes later, the trees surrounding them thinned and homes started to appear alongside the road. And the rain stopped like they’d entered a tunnel. A few minutes after that, they drove up a steep hill and then down like a rollercoaster, then passed through an intersection of two two-lane roads. A few people looked up as they drove past, but nobody waved or even smiled.

  Maybe small towns aren’t like you see on TV after all.

  “We don’t have to go through much of town to get there. Don’t let them bother you. You’re not riding into Deliverance.”

  Lee froze and almost missed a turn in the road; he looked terrified. Phil searched for something to do so Lee could breathe again and looked down at Lee’s hand gripping the console between them. Phil covered Lee’s cold hand with his own and rubbed a little. Lee looked over at him, and the color returned to his face when Phil smiled. If it hadn’t, Phil was ready to say something to help it along. He didn’t know what that something would be, but anything that stopped short of spilling his guts would’ve been okay.

  THE ROAD narrowed as the town disappeared behind them, until it was barely two lanes with deep ditches on either side. Phil smiled again when he saw the big mailbox beside the road with “Redding” painted on the side. Lee turned onto the gravel road and stopped.

  “We can still turn back if you want to.”

  Phil shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I have a j-job to do here, and if we sit around talking about it too long, it’ll just start raining again.”

  Lee grinned and gave the car a little gas, and Phil realized it could’ve been Lee who wanted to turn back. Maybe he’d had second thoughts about bringing some strange guy he’d just met to his family’s home.

  The gravel road stretched out flat in front of them with a field to the right. On the left was a fence and on the other side of that, the slope of a hill thick with trees and blackberry vines. The road ended in a turnaround in front of a two-story house with a garage connected to the near end. Both had been painted blue many years before, and as far as he could tell, the folk-art figures had been added more recently. The house faced the hillside, but Phil couldn’t figure out which direction that was. He’d know if he was in the Jeep; it had a compass on the dash. All at once, he felt very far from everything he knew, and it was like someone had sucked all the air out of the car.

  Why did he ever agree to meet Lee’s mother, of all people? If he was uncomfortable around most men, it was exponentially worse with women. He didn’t hold all women responsible for his mother’s actions, but he didn’t trust them to follow through on anything they said. To anyone.

  He’d worked himself up a bit, so when he heard the first bark, he almost pissed himself. The dog wasn’t visible, but it sounded large.

  “Y-you have a d-d-dog?”

  Lee stopped the car a few feet before the driveway and turned off the engine. Phil couldn’t stop searching for the dog. He was afraid of what would happen when he finally saw it, but that didn’t stop him.

  “Phil?” Lee waited until he turned to face him. “Sit tight. I’ll go put him in the pen.”

  Lee jogged around the side of the garage, and the dog kept barking and barking until Phil was afraid he’d throw up, but then the barking stopped. A few seconds later, Lee came back around the side of the garage, and he didn’t seem angry. He wasn’t laughing either. He looked concerned, but not in a “what the hell is this bullshit” kind of way. He stopped beside the passenger door and waited for Phil to look up at him. He flashed an encouraging smile and gripped the door handle. And he waited.

  Phil’s stomach made half of the trip back to normal, and then he pulled the button up to unlock the door.

  Lee opened it and then waited again.

  Phil put his feet on the ground and tried to determine whether his legs would hold him. Lee’s patience almost drew out the tears that had threatened to spill when he’d heard the dog. He stood, and a small miracle allowed him to stay that way. He moved away from the car, and Lee grabbed his camera case off the floor before closing the door. Phil reached for the case, but Lee slung it carefully over his shoulder and headed for the far side of the house.

  A girl in a yellow flowered dress, faded jeans, and a floppy straw hat stormed in their direction as soon as they reached the path on the far side of the house. She was Lee’s sister, no question. An inch or two shorter, she had the same strong build and dark blond hair. A tall thin woman with long gray hair in a thick braid followed, trying to stop her or at least slow her down. Phil resisted the urge to hide behind Lee—it was obvious she wasn’t going to hurt him, or anyone, even if she did seem a little upset.

  “Why did you lock up Bruce? That’s just mean, Levi.”

  “Mom,” Lee whined.

  The tall woman caught up and placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders. She looked about seventeen or eighteen, and the cramping feeling in Phil’s chest loosened. Lee had only warned him about the questions she might ask. He trusted Phil that much, to be kind to his sister.

  “It’s my f-fault. I… don’t like d-d-dogs.”

  “Are you Phil?” the girl asked. Suddenly she didn’t seem upset about the dog, only curious about him.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Lee used to stutter like that too, but then he went to Miss Margie, and she taught him how to stop. Did you go to speech therapy, Phil?”

  “Becca.” Lee wasn’t whining anymore. He sounded like he was made of patience but was running interference. Phil wondered, for about 1/800th of a second, if he’d given a signal without realizing it.

  “It’s okay. Yeah, I t-tried that. Sometimes it works and sometimes n-not.”

  “Yeah, Lee, it’s okay. There’s no such thing as a dumb question. And anyway, maybe he didn’t even know about speech therapy. Is your long name Phillip?”<
br />
  All he had time for was a nod.

  “Then we’re all the same.” Becca smiled, and then inserted herself between Lee and Phil and linked arms with both of them. “Levi, Rebecca, and Phillip, or Lee, Becca, and Phil.”

  Becca started walking toward a low rustic-looking fence and swept Phil and Lee along with her.

  “Mom doesn’t have a long name. She’s just Tina. Why don’t you like dogs, Phil? Did one scare you one time?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Was it just playing, or was it a mean dog?”

  “It was a mean d-dog.”

  They reached the gate, and Becca released the guys so they could all walk through single file. Becca gave Phil a quick hug and then followed her mother into the garden.

  Lee leaned close to whisper, and Phil’s knees weakened when Lee’s warm breath caressed his cheek. “Sorry.”

  Phil shook his head and tried to smile, but his cheek was trembling. His skin tingled where Lee’s breath had touched it, and he was busy trying not to become noticeably aroused. Too many things to do at once, so he stopped and faced Lee.

  “It’s o-okay. She’s s-sweet.”

  Phil continued on the garden path, over the damp wood shavings that were too coarse to be called bark dust. Lee’s mother had wrapped her arm around Becca’s shoulders, and they walked ahead with their heads leaning together. He wished he had his camera out, because that would make a perfect shot.

  Off to either side of the path, raised garden beds were laid out in orderly rows—dozens of them. Some had trellises that looked like someone cut them off a tree and plunged them into the dirt. These were tied together about six feet above the ground with strings around the crosspieces disappearing into the dirt next to little plants working to climb up them. Other beds showed rows of leafy plants peeking up from the soil, and some didn’t seem to have anything in them yet.

  A few dozen yards opposite the fence sat a wide squat barn. Like the house, it was painted blue and embellished with every other color known to man. On one side of the door danced folk-art circus animals, and on the other stood a tall snowman—who looked like he was made out of rainbow snow cones. Grinning crows perched on his twig arms and top hat. As they approached, Phil wondered who the artist was who’d been brave enough to paint the family of owls above the door.