Page 15 of The Road Home
CHAPTER SEVEN
Orson wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but the last time he'd asked someone, right before leaving the storage units, it had been a quarter to nine. It only took five minutes to walk to the clinic. His biggest worry was that he'd misread what Jared had said, and he wouldn't show up. As scared as he was to go alone with him, he really hoped everything was true and he would have a chance to make some money.
It had been a long night of tossing and turning as he thought about everything. Experiences in the past told him that he was putting himself into danger going with a man he hardly knew, but there was something different about Jared. He didn't come across as a pervert. He didn't seem interested in using him for sex. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't want to and was just better at hiding it.
It sucked that he was to the point of putting his safety on the line to make a few dollars. He swore when he first hit the streets he wouldn't be like so many others and have sex for money. That didn't mean that some men hadn't taken it from him for nothing anyway, but he could at least say he'd never sold himself for money. Now, if Jared pushed for sex, he'd be stuck alone in some unknown place and wouldn't have a way to escape.
He hoped his read on Jared was right. He didn't take him as a violent guy. He seemed nice enough. There were ways he would catch Jared watching him that stirred something deep inside him that he'd long thought dead. He liked how he felt around Jared, but he could easily be reading the whole thing wrong. Was he so desperate for friendship that he would blindly throw himself into the lion's den?
Orson glanced up as a car pulled up beside him. He took a deep breath before forcing a smile and going to the car where Jared was waving at him.
"Hi." Jared grinned as Orson opened the passenger door. "How are you this morning?"
Orson pushed back his fears, keeping his mind on the money he needed so desperately. "I'm good." He settled into the seat and shut the door. "How about you?"
"I'm good. Stayed up too late working." Jared pulled away from the curb. "Woke up late and didn't have time to eat. I figured you didn't eat either. You okay if we run by McDonald's and pick up something for us before we head to my place?"
"I'm not hungry, but I don't mind." Truth was, Orson couldn't recall the last time he had anything for breakfast. He ate at night when he could get in line for a meal, but never this early.
"Grab something. I know I sound like a nag, but it's the doctor in me. Breakfast is important. I want you to have the energy to get through the day or I'll be watching for you to collapse."
"Plan on me working that hard?" Orson glanced over at him.
"No harder than I plan on working, but food is a must. We kind of need it for survival," Jared said. "I know your circumstances don't allow you to get a good meal as often as you should, but I would really like to know you're eating while you're working with me. It's not as if I'm going out of my way for you. I need to eat too."
He watched the people walking down the street as Jared drove. "I appreciate it, but you don't have to do all this for me."
"I know I don't, but I want to, so just let me, okay?"
Orson rubbed the hand over the cast that still covered his right arm. "I'll try, but honestly, I'm used to eating once every two or three days. I'm not sure I can eat more often. My body isn't used to it."
"I won't force anything. Just get something. If you only take a few bites, it's still better than nothing." He turned into a drive-thru. "What do you want?"
"I don't know. I had a bacon and egg thing back when I still lived at home. That was good." Orson honestly hadn't been to McDonald's since he'd left home. He wasn't sure what he liked.
"Bacon it is, and to drink?" Jared glanced at him as he stopped by the speaker to order.
"Orange juice, please." Having him pay for two meals in just a few hours was hard. He hated taking charity, and that was what this felt like.
Jared placed the order and pulled around to wait to get to the window. "I'm actually looking forward to today. I've been putting off so much of this stuff, but having someone to help me with it kinda makes it not so daunting."
"You don't have to help me. You're paying me to do a job." Orson wasn't willing to take money unless he earned it honestly.
"There's more than enough for both of us. I've been wanting to fix up my yard. In the front, I'd hoped to get some flowers and stuff in this spring, but that didn't happen, so the flower beds are overgrown with weeds now, and the backyard, well, I haven't touched it since I moved in other than to mow the lawn. It's time to make it presentable."
"How long ago did you move in?"
"Two years ago." Jared grinned. "I warned you I'd let things go. My intentions are good, but my motivation isn't. I don't expect us to get it done today. I'm hoping you'll like working with me and we can plan another day next weekend to do more."
"When do you work?"
"I have Sunday's and Monday's off most of the time. I worked at the clinic last night for Cam, and had another doctor fill in for me at the hospital for half of my shift, so I have today and tomorrow off."
"I have to check in at the shelter tomorrow afternoon. I keep forgetting what day it is." Orson blushed. "It's never really mattered until now."
"I'll try and remind you, and if you decide to help me around my place once a week or so, it will be easier to keep track. I can't promise we'll do this every weekend, but I do know I need my lawn mowed every week, so unless I have something going on, that job is yours if you want it. We can figure it all out later today once you see what you're getting yourself into. I know it's not a fulltime job like you want, but until you get one, it will help you out a bit."
"I'd like that. I hope to get in this program and get set up with a job, but even then, if you need help, I'm happy to stay helping you when I'm off the other job. I've been sitting around doing nothing for so long that I can't wait to be busy and have something to do for a change." Orson loved the idea of being so busy that he never had time to sit and think about everything again. Thinking and remembering was painful. He'd done enough of that to last a lifetime. He just wanted a job, wanted to have a reason to wake up every day. It was getting harder and harder to find a reason to go on.
