Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I don’t like that I just lost my cool.
I’m used to being in control of my emotions, of my responses to people, but Jackson seems to have a way of catching me off guard. Making me feel off balance.
Maybe because I can tell he’s paying attention to what I say, what I do. Most guys are so busy trying to get laid that I could be about to burst into tears and they wouldn’t give a crap. I know since one of the times I need to fuck around most is when I get sad.
“I’m just honest about what I want,” I add, trying to lighten the mood again.
“Which is sex, twenty-four seven?”
“Maybe twenty-two seven.” I wink at him, but he’s eyeing me suspiciously. Like he has some sort of secret that he’s not sharing with me.
“And that’s fine to want sex. I’m not saying you need other people’s validation. I just want to make sure you know I don’t think that’s all there is to you. I’m not sure if anyone has ever told you that.”
“Well, it’s a pretty good part of me. Just saying.” Flip as I am about his comment, I can’t help but acknowledge the truth in it, too. That really is how most people see me. It’s something I’ve learned to live with. Better they see that side than the other crap in my life.
“Now, tell me more about your uncle.”
“What?”
Of everything we’ve talked about, I can’t imagine how that was the thing that stood out.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine. Nothing much to say.”
I’m thinking he’ll let me leave it at that, but he continues with, “You said he was there for you when you were younger. How?”
I thought this was going to be a fun get-together where we made pretend conversation before we went back to one of our places for a quickie. Not this.
I play along, figuring if I try to ignore it, he’ll catch on to my issue about the subject and push even more.
“I stayed with him for a while during college. He was cool. Showed me around to the gay bars. Made me feel really good about who I was, which I didn’t really get from my family. Or anyone when I was growing up. Randy’s a big movie fanatic. Loves old comedies like Bringing Up Baby and Auntie Mame. They have these classic nights at the drive-in theater, and he used to take me there for the double feature.”
Shit, what am I doing?
I was just trying to say enough so I wouldn’t sound like I was avoiding the subject, but once I got started, memories of the good times with Uncle Randy raced through my thoughts. Of our times at the movies together. Working on jigsaw puzzles together. Eating pizza at our favorite pizzeria down the street from his house. These were the things we shared before the Alzheimer’s set in, before the little clues of casual things he would forget to the much more serious panics that came from not knowing where he was. Now he’s a man who sometimes looks at me and doesn’t even know who I am.
“He was the one who encouraged me to go to beauty school,” I say. “He knew that was what I really wanted to do. I’d learned to cut hair in high school, and it was kind of the thing that kept me from getting bullied.”
“How’s that?”
“When you’re cutting the cheerleaders’ hair, they keep their jock boyfriends from picking on you because they want to make sure you make them look fabulous.”
Again, I’m spewing TMI.
I need to shut it down, so I end it with, “Randy believed in me and helped me discover who I really am.”
“Where is he now?”
“Still around. Don’t see him much,” I lie, hoping to keep him from asking any more questions. “Just so busy these days. But anyway, moral of the story is, he was kinda the only one who I ever felt like was there for me.”
“That’s terrible. You shouldn’t have felt like he was the only one you could turn to, but I’m glad you had him.”
“Don’t go getting all daddy-ish on me about this. I’m fine. I haven’t needed anyone else. And besides, I got Charlie-boy.”
“Charlie-boy?”
“He’s a beta fish. Just one I saw in a pet store when I was with a buddy of mine. He looked really sad and lonely, and I thought he could use a friend. I don’t know.”
“You thought a fish needed a friend?” He snickers.
“What? Fish need love too.”
“I guess you’re right. How is that vanilla latte treating you?”
I take a sip and savor it.
“Mmmm.…Creamy goodness. I wouldn’t mind a little more cream, though.”
“And…back to your old tricks.”
“Looking forward to new ones, too.” As I wink, he grins, and I feel more relaxed again. Like the tension he stirred when he asked about Uncle Randy has settled a bit. Although it’s still there, lingering in the back of my mind. Not just my feelings about the past, but my worry about the future.