Chapter Eight

HE SHOULD HAVE probably gone home, to the familiar, shabby sanctuary of his apartment, but instead, he found himself sitting on the back porch of his parents’ house, staring at the snowy expanse of the yard.

Tears burned his eyes and the back of his throat, but for some reason, they wouldn’t flow. Which was unfortunate, because he’d much rather break down in private now than in front of his family later.

Voices drifted to him from inside the house, mingling with music coming from the TV. The sun had begun its descent, swift and unrelenting this time of year, twilight already setting in. Soon, it’d be too cold to sit outside wallowing, and he’d have to either retreat to the warmth of the crowded living room, doing his best to maintain the fake veneer of holiday cheer, or go home to watch Netflix and drink himself into a stupor until he passed out.

Considering he couldn’t really afford the required amount of alcohol, that option seemed less likely.

Despite the cold and the gathering dusk, Justin lingered on the porch step, listening to the snatches of chatter drifting on the clear air. The windows in the neighboring houses on either side were like shining beacons, glowing brightly. From this vantage point, he couldn’t see the gabled roof of the Turners’ house, but he remembered the secret path that wound around the neighbors’ back yards through the patch of woods that separated them, leading to the little pool house Elliot’s dad had built on the edge of their property. Their family had rarely used the pool since, and the structure, little more than a shed with padded benches and storage for towels and swimming gear, had become Elliot and Justin’s little hideaway. It was their pirate lair when they were children, and their kissing spot when they were old enough to act on their mutual attraction. It was the place where they’d lost their virginity to each other after senior prom, whispering broken I love you’s in the dark.

Justin’s face heated thinking about that night. It definitely wasn’t the best sex he’d ever had, with both of them being too eager and too inexperienced for it not to be awkward. But, in hindsight, it meant so much more to him than any other sexual encounter he’d had since.

If he were to follow that hidden path, would he find Elliot waiting for him at the pool house, hoping for a last chance to mend things between them?

Justin took out his cell phone to check the time. Five PM. Not much chance of that, then. Elliot was probably on his way to the airport, ready to catch his flight back to LA. If this were a romantic movie, now would be the time for Justin’s mad dash against traffic to make it at the last possible second to stop Elliot from boarding that plane.

He put the phone back in his pocket and remained seated.

The back door opened with a soft creak, and Trish gasped.

“Oh my God, Justin! You scared the hell out of me! What are you doing here?”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, glancing up at her and quickly lowering his head so she wouldn’t notice how red his eyes were. “I needed a few minutes to clear my head.”

“I know what you mean,” Trish said, coming to sit beside him and wrapping her arms around herself. “If I didn’t take regular breaks from Aunt Marnie, I’d go ballistic. I wish Mom hadn’t invited them for an entire week.”

“I don’t know how you stand all her digs.”

Trish shrugged. “She just likes getting a rise out of people, so I don’t let her. You’ve been pretty patient with her yourself, and God knows she takes every chance she gets to vex you. She still thinks you’ve done Mark wrong, ditching him like that.”

Justin chuckled humorlessly. “Who cares what Aunt Marnie thinks? She believes in horoscopes and watches Dancing with the Stars.”

Trish huffed in agreement before giving him a sideways look.

“I thought you were spending the day at Elliot’s,” she said, her tone too carefully casual.

Justin sighed. “Mom told you?”

“Dad, actually. Did something happen?”

“Nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

They sat together in silence for a few minutes, watching the purple shadows under the hedges turn to black.

“I’m gonna head inside,” Trish said finally, rising. “It’s freezing out here. You should come too before you catch a cold. Dad is making his grilled chicken sandwiches, and there’s a ton of leftovers.”

“I’ll be there in a minute. Thanks, Trish.”

She nodded and disappeared inside. Justin lingered on the porch for a few more moments before wiping his eyes and following her.

 

DINNER WAS A much quieter affair that evening. Justin couldn’t tell whether it was because of the general mood or because of his efforts to tune out the din of voices around him while he made perfunctory motions with his knife and fork. He thought he was doing a good enough job. Until the sandwiches were served.

“Where’s the Turner boy this evening?” Aunt Marnie inquired, zeroing in on the sore spot with her usual acumen.

“He had to take a flight back to California,” John said, setting the tray at the center of the table. “Avoid the New Year’s traffic, he said.”

Marnie huffed, neatly cutting her sandwich into halves.

“I can’t see what the rush was. He could have stayed here well into January and gone home after the holidays, like everybody else. Guess there wasn’t much left here to entice him.”

Justin concentrated on the tiny pile of Brussel sprouts on his plate, studying them as if they held some particular symbolism.

Kelly glared at her sister, her usual sweet countenance hardened with uncharacteristic fury.

“Marnie, honey,” she said, her voice dangerously tight. “Do shut up.”

They finished the meal pretty quickly after that, with Marnie keeping an injured silence. Uncle Tony claimed to have a headache, so they both retired early to their bedroom, leaving the rest to tidy and pick a movie to watch.

Justin volunteered to do the dishes, but instead of taking his mind off things, the mundane task left his thoughts doing a circle dance of self-pity. Too emotionally wrung out to hold himself in check, he stared out the window above the sink, the neighbors’ festive lawn lights twinkling cheerfully in the darkness.

“Are you okay, dear?” his mother asked, walking into the kitchen, and he started, dropping his gaze to the soapy plate he was holding.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kelly picked up a plate he’d just rinsed and started wiping it.

“I’m your mother, Justin. I can always tell when you’re sad. Well, sadder than usual these days.”

Justin didn’t know quite what to say to that.

“Why did you really invite Elliot over, Ma?” he asked quietly instead. “I get the part where you didn’t want him to be alone in an empty house. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there?”

She was silent for a moment, setting down the plate and fiddling with the tea towel. Finally, she sighed.

“I always knew you and Elliot belonged together,” she said, sounding almost apologetic—but only almost. “I could see it long before you told us you liked boys. You were such fast friends, and you were both into art. And I know you loved each other, sweetie. That you two were…romantic.”

Justin swallowed around a spiky lump in his throat.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely audible to his own ears. “We were.”

“Romantic” was such a dainty, old-fashioned word to describe what they had been, but perhaps it wasn’t wrong. Even in high school, neither of them had hung out with the cool and edgy crowd. They’d been together through their growing up and figuring out who they were; they were each other’s firsts in so many ways.

“When your father got sick and you couldn’t go with Elliot to art school in California, I told myself it was a temporary setback,” his mother continued, bunching the towel over and over in her hands. “But it didn’t end up being temporary at all. And when you and Elliot broke up…”

She trailed off, wiping a tear with the corner of the towel.

“Ma, please, don’t,” Justin said. He didn’t know what it was that he didn’t want her to say; he just hated seeing her so devastated. He hated even more that she was devastated because of him. “I don’t regret not going to LA. I don’t regret any of it.”

“But I do!”

The raw pain in her voice surprised him. He reached out and clasped her hand, and she squeezed his wet fingers in answer.

“I do.” She sounded calmer, but tears were welling up in her eyes. “I’ve always regretted not being able to let you live the life you dreamed of, sharing it with the person you truly loved. When I saw Elliot walk into that grocery store, after all these years… Well, I thought it must be God, showing me a way to make things right for you again, darling. And if it wasn’t God, I was going to try to make them right anyway.”

That lump in Justin’s throat was getting so big it was difficult to breathe around it. His mother’s face blurred and distorted, and he blinked rapidly, fighting his own tears.

He hadn’t cried in what felt like forever, and in the last few days, it was as if someone had turned on the waterworks.

“I’m sorry if I butted in where I didn’t belong. But I’m not blind, Justin. I could see you weren’t happy with Mark. You haven’t been happy for a long time.”

Justin shook his head. “I broke up with Mark.” Getting those words out required no small effort, but once he cleared that initial hurdle, the rest came tumbling out. “We were having problems for a while now, and when I caught him cheating, that was it.”

“Oh, honey. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to spoil the mood. And, frankly, I couldn’t handle admitting to another failure. Things were going bad enough as it was. Having my relationship crumble on top of everything else… It was too much.”

“Come here.”

Kelly abandoned the long-suffering tea towel and opened her arms. Unable to resist, Justin hugged her back tightly. She felt so much smaller and more fragile than when he was little, but her embrace was just as comforting as it had been then.

“You could never spoil anything for us, darling,” she whispered fiercely in his ear. “You hear that? No matter how tough you have it, you’re never a failure.”

“I’m sorry, Ma,” he whispered back. “I have to tell you and Dad something. It’s about the store. It’s not…doing well. In fact, I don’t think I can keep it open much longer without going into huge debt. Nothing I’ve tried has done any good.”

The words burned his tongue as they poured forward, but there was a cleansing quality to the fire that trailed behind them. The truth, which he’d fought so long to keep hidden, was finally out, and, despite the shame that still clung in his mind, coming clean felt cathartic.

“We had an inkling.” She drew back, offering him an encouraging smile. “Ever since they opened that chain store on Main Street, you’ve been wound tighter than a two-dollar watch. Your father and I, we could both see the stress wearing you out. We’ve been meaning to have a serious talk with you after the holidays, but I might as well tell you now.” She took a deep breath as if steeling herself against his reaction. “We want to sell the hardware store, honey. It’s time.”

“Don’t tell me you let Marnie get to you—”

“This isn’t about anything Marnie or Tony say. It’s our decision, and it hasn’t been an easy one.”

“If you lose the business Dad spent decades to build because of me…” Justin shook his head. “What kind of a son am I?”

“The best kind there is,” she said firmly. “You’ve done everything you could, Justin. But sometimes life forces you to take a different path, for better or for worse. We couldn’t be prouder of you and everything you’ve done for us. That shop has been such an important part of our lives for so long, but it’s much more important to us to know that you’re happy.”

“I can’t promise that I ever will be,” Justin said, his voice raw.

He wanted to, desperately, but with so much heartbreak piled onto him during the last few days, it was a difficult thing to believe.

“Just promise me you’ll do your best to try,” his mother said.

 

IT WAS A clear night, with neither snow nor rain to distract Justin from his thoughts during the drive home. It had taken him a while to compose himself after the conversation with his mother, but now a strange sort of calm descended on him, enveloping him in soothing numbness.

Justin couldn’t quite tell if it was comfort or despair.

He’d forgotten to leave the entrance light on again when he’d left, and he fumbled with the keys in near complete darkness. As he opened the door that led into the back hallway, a white rectangle on the floor caught his eye.

He crouched and picked up an envelope. Despite the dimness, he instantly recognized the neat handwriting that spelled his name.

Heart hammering, he shoved the door closed and flicked on the light switch before opening the envelope. He expected a letter (both he and Elliot were old-fashioned enough for that sort of thing), but there wasn’t even a note. He stared at the contents of the envelope for several long moments before closing and tucking it carefully in the inner pocket of his jacket.

It seemed he would be going to LA after all.