Page 25 of The Sound Of Us

“Don’t say he’s trash, Ben.” Really, I don’t know why I do this. I don’t know why I defend Frank.

Ben levels me with a glare. Someone watching us may have become alarmed, thinking we’re about to throw hands, but Ben and I have been having this argument for nearly ten years. I understand and respect his concern for me. It’s hard to explain my sympathy for Frank when someone points out his bad side. I don’t understand it myself.

Ben finally says what he’s been trying to say since I walked into the store.

“He isolates you from your friends. I’m lucky I get to see you sometimes. He made you stop playing the piano at church and he knows how much you loved playing. He’s so fuckin’ jealous. He still berates you about James, for fuck’s sake, and your phone never stops ringing when we just go down to the bar for a fucking beer. He blows up for no fuckin’ reason. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about how he always calls you names. And anyway, what did he say about going to the bar?”

My answer is a sigh.

Ben shakes his head. “The fact that you have to even ask for permission in the first place is fucked up .”

I dream every day of running away from Frank and starting over somewhere where no one knows me. But I just… can’t. I’m totally dependent on him. Without him, I have no home, no one to check on me in the middle of the night if I suddenly got sick. But most of all, the thought of being all alone all over again makes me want to vomit. And if those were not good enough reasons, then that damn gun sure is. Frank isn't shy about telling me he'll shoot me if I leave him.

And then there are those times when he’s so good to me.

“You’ve been through so much, Ax,” Ben says. “You fought so hard to just live. Why don’t you have a husband who worships you? Because that’s what you deserve. I hate how he treats you.”

“Maybe in my next life.” My way of acknowledging that my current life is nothing like I’d imagined it would be without directly throwing Frank under the bus.

Ben slaps the back of my head.

“Hey, that was not a death joke. I really do believe in the afterlife.”

“Okay, I’ll let that one go.”

The gay fiction section looks like Disneyland. Not that I’ve ever been, but I’d imagine it would be as colorful and… happy as this book aisle.

There’s a shelf with a sign that says WARM AND FLUFFY. Another shelf says YOU’LL STILL BE CRYING NEXT YEAR. Behind me—

I laugh. Ben throws me a rotten grin. “You’ll love everything from there,” he says. The sign over the shelf I’m laughing about says NO AMOUNT OF SOAP WILL HELP. SORRY NOT SORRY.

“Guess whose titles go there?” he asks.

“C.P. Harris.”

“You know it.”

Across the space, near the window, is a display table. Above it is a sign that says,

JamieReadsRomance FIVE STAR READS.

“You have a bookstagram corner too? That’s so fuckin’ awesome!”

“Yeah, I did that one for Casey. That girl worships that bookstagrammer so I started stocking her five star reads. Casey's going to make a career out of reading romance novels, I'm telling you.”

Ben moves to the calendar stuck to the side wall. “Okay, next up. If either of us needs time off, we’ll add a note here. Like, see here—” He points to a date a couple months from now “—I have my exam in a couple months, so I made a note for you.” Ben’s entrance exam. “My exam is late morning but I'll be leaving early so you'll open the store on that day, okay?”

“Okay. I can’t believe you’re gonna be a whole ass lawyer one of these days.”

“Me either,” Ben laughs.

There’s a tinkle at the door.

“Let’s get to work,” Ben announces and heads to the front.

When I look up, it’s like the world slides into slow motion and I’m in the middle, spinning off my axis at an unearthly speed.

Ben greets the new customer using sign language.

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