Page 27 of Tommy

I pretended to look at a watch on my wrist. “You’re eating into those twenty minutes.”

“Well, that was my rule, so I can stretch it to thirty,” he said. “I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to pretend. Or you can pretend around me. And I feel like this was a bit of an ambush now.”

“It’s a weight off my shoulders, actually,” I told him. “But I’m freaking boiling up now. Guys don’t usually just tell me they’d been watching me or that they know who I am. So, it’s a bit weird, but not like bad weird. Weird like, I don’t know what to do with the information.”

Hardin had a little chuckle in the back of his throat. “You don’t have to do anything with the information,” he said. “I was mostly just hoping you’d feel more comfortable here. And, again, I’m clearly not doing that hard cowboy rep any favors.”

I didn’t know what it was he was trying to tell me. In my fantasy world, this is where he would then sweep me off my feet and kiss me. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen, my legs were not up for standing, let alone being swept off.

He clapped his hands together the once. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, let’s get some of your stuff, and take it over.”

“So, what prompted all of that?”

“Break the ice,” he said. “Ice broken.” He made an explosion with his mouth. “Go on, pack a bag. I’ll deconstruct thismessof a fort you’ve got going on in here.”

All I really gleaned from what he’d told me was that we were going to build another fort, in fact, he said it was going to be a better fort, and I was very much looking forward to that in the nice, fancy house. I hurried as fast as my aching legs would take me to the bedroom. My teddies were there in the bed, comforted from the cold inside the thick duvet.

“Damn, you’ve made a mess,” Hardin called out.

“It’s not a mess,” I called back to him.

“No, I’m pretty sure this is a mess,” he said. “For an artist, I thought you’d take better care of your crayons.”

With my arms full of teddies, I walked out of the bedroom. Hardin had whipped back the blankets and bundled them into a large ball on the sofa. He stood over the so-called mess of coloring pages and crayons from within the former blanket fort.

“Those aren’t the crayons I use for art, they’re mylittlecrayons. If you want to see my actual art, I can show you,” I said. “In my bag, I’ve got my comics. I’m not sure if you’re a big reader, so—”

“I’ll read ‘em,” he said. “Might get a deeper insight into who I’m sharing a house with. And fingers crossed you’re not an axe murderer.”

I scoffed, dropping the teddies onto the sofa. “I do not possess the upper body or core for those types of shenanigans.”

“I was kidding. I’d have figured that out already if you were.”

“You’d hope you’d have it figured out,” I said. “Wait until you read my comic books.”

He tilted his head and smiled. “You know, I’m actually looking forward to reading them. I wanna get an insight intowhat forced you all the way out here in the elements you’re not equipped to handle.”

Huffing as I leaned on the back of the sofa to take some of the pressure of my legs, I glared at him. “How long do you have?” I asked. “Because I can absolutely fill you in on why I’m here and all the shit that happened.”

This time, he tapped his wrist. “Not sure if you’d be able to make it quick.”

He was right. It wouldn’t be a quick story at all. I’d have to go in deep on my life and how the crushing success of a singular book had forced my brain into feeling like an absolute imposter. I bet he’d never been through anything like that before. Lucky him.

“Also, I expect an introduction to your friends later,” he said, nodding to the teddies on the sofa. “And you might not want to leave them laying around. The dogs will rip them to shreds.”

I clamored around to pull the teddies into my arms again. “Don’t you dare let them hurt my babies.”

“Can’t really control Pip, just gotta keep stuff out of his way,” he said. “Let’s get this stuff moved over before I change my mind.”

As much as he’d never admit to it, Hardin had a soft spot for me. It might’ve been because we were both gay and seemingly alone in the world, him physically and me by my own actions to isolate while recovering from a depressive creative burn out.

Together, we managed to take a bulk of my things. Hardin quipped about how it was only until the storm was happening, but he didn’t seem convinced by his words. Not that I had a problem with it, the main house was so much nicer.

Sully had this small tractor machine that threw out salt grit. It almost sounded like a salt grinder crunching it out as hedrove. It looked more fun than riding on horses, but the idea of sitting on anything right now was painful.

Once my things were in the spare room, again, another wildly improved room from the one I was sleeping in. The mattress had layers, and when you sat on it, you didn’t feel your ass touching the wood support beams beneath it. I discovered the gift I’d bought for Hardin when I was in the convenience store on my way up with June. A magnet.

“I have something for you,” I called to him, stumbling out of the bedroom. My legs in the worst shape of their entire life.

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