Page 10 of Vespertine
Jasper smiled and hung up. He tilted his chair back andstared around the little office. It was an old room with faded wallpaper andfurniture that could do with an overhaul, but it was functional. Jasperpreferred to pour the funds in the kids’ rooms since he didn’t spend all thatmuch time here anyway.
Maybe you’d like me to forgive you forfucking me through the mattress until I cried for your precious God.
Jasper rubbed at the uneven wooden surface of the desk. He’dmade a decision when he was seventeen years old, one that irreparably changedhis life. He’d based it on facts he’d doubted more than once since, but none ofthat mattered anymore. Thinking about something he did when he was young and inlove with his best friend would do neither of them any good.
Two pairs of footsteps thundered down the steps along thehall and Jasper startled a little. Time to do his rounds with the kids, sayhello to Mrs. Wells, and then go home.
Mrs. Wells tried to feed him and the kids wanted to rope himinto playing basketball with them, but for once Jasper declined when he saweveryone was doing well. It pleased him to see that Amberlynn was interacting alittle with the others. She’d been so quiet for months everyone had started tothink maybe it was just her nature, but there she was, laughing with Eric andOlivia in the bright sunlight, looking carefree and happy. Mrs. Wells gave hima small smile that told him she’d seen it too.
Looking forward to some alone time, Jasper hopped on hisbike and turned the corner, passing by the church so he could cycle down MainStreet toward the other side of town.
The classic farmhouse he lived in was too big for just him,but Jasper loved it. It sat a little ways off the road, and stood out brightlyagainst the summer greens with its clean white siding and dark green shutters.
He steered the bike into his drive and swung his leg overthe saddle as the bike still rolled onward, neatly hopping off right before heparked it against the garage door. Taking the steps two at a time, he climbedup to his porch and unlocked the door. It opened into a small formal livingroom to the right and the kitchen to the left, which had a large brick-framed fireplaceand warm red wooden floors.
Jasper closed the door behind him and walked underneath thethick exposed beams toward the fridge so he could grab a bottle of water. Hedidn’t have to worry about Lizzie’s accommodations; Mrs. Wells would have thatall in hand and then some, but he hadn’t had the chance yet to read through herentire file since he’d heard last week that Blue Oasis would get a newresident.
About to retreat to his study, Jasper turned back when heheard a tapping noise against the kitchen window. A large ginger cat satperched between the begonias on the window ledge, and as he watched, the fatbeast tapped the window again.
“Well, you’re early,” Jasper said when he twisted the oldwindow lock open. “No birds to harass?”
“Meow.” The cat rubbed her face against the faucet.
“Ah. Empty bird bath, huh?”
“Mrrrw.”
Jasper opened the tap and let the water dribble out slowly.The cat looked at him. He held up his hand, she high-fived him, and began todrink at leisure. She’d be at it a while, so he grabbed the little red wateringcan he kept under the sink and went outside to refill the birdbath. The farmcame with a small well he used for watering plants, and as he pumped hewondered again where the cat came from. Obviously well-cared for, she couldn’tbe a stray, but she never wore a collar and wasn’t chipped—he’d had herchecked. And yet every day she showed up at least once, and sometimes evenspent the night.
By the time he’d pinched a few dead flowers from the bedshugging the side of the house, the cat was done drinking. He turned off thetap, left the window open, and retreated to his study. When she decided tofollow him up, he wasn’t in the least bit surprised.
An hour later, the cat had stopped purring in his lap andsettled into a deep sleep, her nose whistling on every breath. He kept readinguntil he was done with the file, and when he slowly closed it and exhaleddeeply, she woke up. She stretched, dug her little claws into his legs, andjumped off. Thoughts whirling with all he’d just read, he straightened two penson his desk and lined up the file with the edge of the desk pad.
Foster care was never easy, not on any child. How could itbe? Teens who ended up in foster homes rarely entered the system from happyfamilies. It was even harder for a transgender girl. Jasper closed his eyes,found his balance with one hand on the desk and sank slowly to his knees wherehe pressed his palms together and lifted his face to heaven.
“O Lord,” he murmured. “I thank You for the privileged lifeI’ve lived. I thank You for the kindness in my youth and the forgiveness andguidance You provided when I most needed it. I know I can be prideful. Help meremain humble. Let me find the way to do Your work to the best of my abilitiesand continue to give safe homes to people like Lizzie. I know You will not setanything on my path You and I can’t handle together.” Jasper paused and loweredhis forehead so it rested against the tips of his praying fingers. “Give me thestrength to be what Nicky needs, to show him the way out of darkness into hislight.”
Because he used to shine so brightly.
Jasper covered his face and whispered, “Amen.”
The rolling green hills followed Nicky out of town. Thecar he’d rented at the airport was a little blue mini Cooper with white racingstripes. The turns and bumps were tighter and bigger in the small car, and withthe windows rolled down, the wind tossed his overlong hair and buffeted hisarms and upper body. The intense sensations comforted his jangled nerves, inputcanceling out craving.
He crossed the intersection where Main Street turned intothe country-bound Letterhead Pike and then took the right turn ontoAndroscoggin, which ran beside the river of the same name. He let his foot growheavy on the gas pedal. The evergreens and maples flipped by him in a steadyrhythm that he could almost hear—hand claps and escalating stomping feet—naturescreaming for him like fans in an auditorium.
Bad blood and semen stains
Memories of you
Eating through my veins
No. He’d done what he needed to do. He’d confronted Jazz andnow he was going to let it go. He was going to learn to live without him.
He snorted. He really wasn’t very good at lying. Never hadbeen. Jazz was the one who’d always been an expert at that. Which was how Jazzhad ended up with a whole summer’s worth of being grounded, wasn’t it?Convincing little shit had insisted that the drugs were his and not Nicky’s orJimmy’s. He’d done it thinking it’d keep Nicky out of trouble, but it’d justmeant the beginning of the end.
He blinked, almost hearing a melancholy melody climbing to acrescendo until it subdued to the cry of a single violin. But before he couldgrasp it, the music was gone.
Nicky had sat in the back during Mass, observing Jazz fromafar. Thirty-four looked good on him even if the priest’s robes obscured a lotabout his body. Nicky had been able to see that he was still lean and tallerthan Nicky now. Up at the altar, with the congregation rising and falling forhim, he hadn’t seemed like Jazz at all. He’d seemed a mystery almost, a priestwith Jazz’s plush mouth, dimpled chin, and long-lashed green-hazel eyes. Astranger called Jasper. Someone Nicky had as yet to know.
