Page 13 of A Little Christmas! Johnny
“Don’t worry, Uncle Dex. Johnny prefers sweet and sour sauce. My barbie-ranch is all mine.”
I file that information away with a grunt while I finish up my food. After telling Russ to head on back to his own home, I go upstairs to shower and change into my work uniform. I still have over an hour before I start, but it’s going to take at least half of that to find a parking space. When I get back downstairs, Russel has already let himself out – hopefully headed only to his place for the evening. I don’t have the spoons to deal with a rampaging Russ tonight on top of another shift at the store.
I was mostly right in my estimation on how long it would take to find a spot. I’m only ten minutes late for my shift tonight. Jeff tells me that he’s disappointed, I lack work ethic, yadda yadda. I never really care when he goes into one of his lectures because I know nothing will ever come of it. Until they can stop bleeding people to the bigger corporations that can afford to pay better, they’ll never fire the people who actually show up. Plus, the longer Jeff rambles, the less time I have to deal with the general public.
Eight and a half painful hours later, I pull into my driveway. I’m off for the next forty-eight hours and plan on spending at least twenty of those sleeping. I got complacent the last few years with having office jobs for the holidays. I swear people were not this dickish to retail workers the last time I worked it. Glancing over at Russ’s side of the duplex, I notice a strange car in his driveway.
I really hope he didn’t go out and buy a car by himself. Dave might actually kill me if his son gets duped again so soon. But considering it’s like three in the morning on a Wednesday, I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see it. Knowing the little hurricane, he’ll be blowing through the front door in about four hours to tell me all about it before he leaves for work.
Once I unlock my front door, I have to run back to my car to get the stuff I picked up on my lunch break. I don’t so much mind if the pasta and cereal sit in the freezing car all night, but the stuff in the glass containers and case of pop need to be brought in. I saw what kind of cereal Johnny likes in his office, but I wasn’t sure what brand of sweet and sour sauce he prefers. Our store carries only three brands, so I bought a bottle of each. If he doesn’t like them, I’ll donate them to the food bank. At least I didn’t buy anything that needs refrigerated, so I drop it just inside the door and drag my ass up to bed.
It’s not until my body is buried in the covers that I remember that I still haven’t gotten Johnny’s number, nor did I remember to give him mine. I slam my fists into the mattress beside me.
“FUCK!”
There goes any good mood I managed to scrape up.
13
JOHNNY
When the cops arrived at the shop earlier, Paul was running his mouth about all kinds of things – including the fact that I have been sleeping there for the last month. When they asked me and Steve about it, my friend told them that it’s not uncommon for one of us to need to catch some Z’s at the shop after long shifts and that I’ve been pulling a lot more than the other guys because of time off requests or some bullshit he pulled out of his ass. When they moved on to the other guys about the fight, Steve pulled me aside and told me that I have to at least find somewhere for a few weeks just in case they send out an inspector.
Russ overheard my predicament and offered me his guest room. He told me each half of the duplex has three bedrooms, so it’s not a big deal if I crash in his guest room for a while. I arrived at his place around eight, after making sure Jeremy was good to go for the next few hours until Dan could relieve him. Between them and Steve and a half asleep Jackson, I was practically pushed out the door.
The room that Russel offered me is way more than I could have ever expected from a total stranger to offer. My brainimmediately went to all of the possible issues that could exist with the room from poltergeist to sewage leak, but beggars can’t be choosers. In exchange for the room, I brought over my current project car – a 1999 Volkswagen Jetta Turbo – for him to use until he figures out what kind of car he wants to get to replace his Aveo. Since the guys have basically banned me from the shop for the next two days, I don’t have to worry about anything that I can’t use rideshare or delivery for.
After a late dinner consisting of some awesome Chinese food – sweet and sour shrimp with extra sauce – and laughing more than I can remember doing in someone else’s presence in years, I help clean up from dinner. In short, I hold the bag while Russ pretends to dunk the empty containers. I take the bag out back to the big trash can since I can’t see one inside the kitchen. I’ll have to remember to ask him about it later.
“Thanks again for this,” I say after coming back inside from tossing the bag of trash in the can outside. “I’ll be able to crash at my sister’s place while they’re on the cruise which should give me more than enough time to find a place.”
“I still can’t believe that they all just up and abandoned you for Christmas. Even my deadbeat dad sends me a plane ticket to visit every year.”
My shrug is automatic. I’m used to the abandonment from my family at this point. Russ gently grabs both my hands and pulls me down onto the couch, and I’m suddenly kind of uncomfortable with the situation. I get the whole attraction to older guys thing, but I prefer guys closer to my own age thatactolder. There’s nothing wrong with older guys. Some silver foxes are sexy as fuck. I just don’t usually feel anything for them. Plus, I totally only want Dexter right now, and fucking around with his neighbor and friend would be the most obvious way to screw me over royally... Not in a good way, either.
“Oh. My. God! The look on your face!” Russ falls over laughing, gripping his stomach. “We aretotallynot compatible romantically nor sexually. I’m hetero so far in my life and at thirty-seven, I think I’m pretty set in that.”
Wow. So I wasreallyoff base when I was thinking that he and Dexter were together. Not gonna lie, the relief that surges through me makes me shiver. I don’t even notice I’m grinning until Russ reaches out to poke my dimple. That small gesture makes me giggle. Usually, I try to hide that side of me, but something about Russ makes me relax and I can be myself.
“Don’t worry, Johnny. I’m not gonna steal your Daddy from you.”
I duck my head from the sudden shyness that overcomes me, but then what he said registers...Daddy?
Russ stops his giggling and sits up straight like he’s suddenly switched personalities back to the scary person from the shop.
“You do want Dex to be your Daddy, right? Cuz I won’t let anyone hurt him by stringing him along again. He needs a Little boy of his own and if that’s not you, then I’ll get you a place on the other side of Wrenshaw to stay in. My dad has a lot of properties, so it’s not a problem.”
Little boy? Does Dexter want to have kids with someone? I thought he’s gay...
Tears start to fall against my will at the thought of Dexter having a wife and kids while I’m somewhere else, still on the outside because I can’t do it myself. If I could have kids without worrying about my family treating them like they treat me, I totally would. I like being around kids, but I’ll never have my own. I’ll always just be the gay uncle who gets called to buy the expensive gifts or dogsit because it’s ridiculous to think I might actually have a life or something that their plans would interrupt.
“Johnny?”
Russel’s hand on my shoulder makes me jump, and I pull my feet up onto the couch to hide behind my knees. I’m a man and men don’t cry like babies because they’re alone. They don’t cry at the thought of losing something they never actually had. They don’t cry at the thought of failing at the only task their father ever asked of them.
“Oh, man. What did I say wrong?” Russ sounds worried, but I can’t answer him. He wasn’t wrong. Dexter deserves a man who has his shit together – who doesn’t fall apart when he runs out of Cherokee Red and can’t get to Duffy’s for more.
The sounds in the background are drowned out by the voices of my family echoing in my head telling me to grow the fuck up, man up, grow a pair and all of the other multitudes of ways to tell me that I’m not enough for a man like Dexter. He’s confident and cool and so sure of himself.
