Page 10 of Letters Book Two
“When’s the last time you ate at a joint like this?” I’d asked. His brow furrowed as he thought about it. “That long, huh?”
“Maybe college?” He grinned and shoved a handful of his favorite salty fries into his mouth. “Good thing too. I’d weigh three hundred pounds if I lived here.”
“Would that be hard for you... you know, to live in a town like this?” I think I knew what his answer would be, but I needed to hear it from him.
Perry looked around, and at the locals sitting at picnic tables. They were old paint-chipped tables that sat on the sandy dirt our town was built on. “Yeah. I suppose it would be a change.” He looked out of place. That was at the beginning of his visit, but I thought he had grown more comfortable as the weeks went by. It seemed I was mistaken as it turned out.
The drive-in was open when I got near, but I remembered there were two boxes of mac-n-cheese at home. I could cook that on my electric burner. I also had a pack of hotdogs I could slice up to add to it. It wasn’t gourmet, but I wasn’t either. I drove down Main Street and pulled into the tow lot behind the station and walked around to the front. Clint was back at his post again. I crossed the street, and he rolled his window down as I approached. When I arrived at his truck, I found him bundled up in a heavy Carhartt jacket.
“Go home, Bowers. I’m home now and everything is fine.” I rested my hands on his open window edge. “This is nice of ya, but I’m fine. Really.”
“I’m not leaving.” He had a box of wheat thins and a Coke between his legs.
I nodded to his snack. “Dinner?”
“Yeah. Sort of. There’s nothing at my apartment to eat.” The massive hunk of manhood looked like a sad little boy sitting there. “No one to go home to either, so why bother.”
I looked across the street at the station. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe I was lonely. “Come up. Have dinner with me. It ain’t much, but I’d like the company.”
“You sure?” he asked, looking relieved or saved. Maybe both. “It would be nice to warm up. It’s going to be a long night.”
“What do you mean,long night? Are you sleeping here now?”
“Sort of,” he admitted, looking away.
“Grab your shit then. You can shower and stay the night.” I wasn’t sure why I invited him in. Here again, maybe guilt, maybe the company. I’d been alone for way too long, but I had gotten used to it. Used to it, but sick and tired of it.
“I won’t be a bother, Jenson.”
“You’re not a bother, Clint.” I used his first name. That seemed kinder.
Clint and I sat at my secondhand table, happy to have each other. I cooked both boxes of the generic brand of mac-n-cheese and added six hot dogs.
“This is good, Lucas. You’re a good cook.” He grinned as he made noises of delight at the meal.
“It’s a box of mac-n-cheese and some dogs, dude.”
“True, but it’s still delicious.” I grabbed the rest and put it on his paper plate. “You sure you’re full?” he asked. I nodded and turned back to the counter. Clint grabbed my hand and pulled me back. “Thank you for being so nice to me,” he whispered. His eyes welled up. “I’m sad most of the time when I’m home alone. If I didn’t watch you at night, I’d have nothing else to do.”Jesus!My heart just shattered.
I stood staring into his eyes. Here was a person that cared so much about me, that he worried about my safety. I felt ungrateful and undeserving of his friendship. Sure, he was stuck in his closet. Didn’t we all have some sorta closet we were stuck in? We were both certainly stuck in the prison of this conservative town, but here he was, looking out for me.
I squeezed his hand. “I’m sad too, Clint. I feel all alone again, and my life feels like it isn’t important,” I admitted.
“It’s important to me. I’d miss you if you weren’t here, Lucas. I know we aren’t boyfriends and stuff, but I want to be your friend still.” He stood up and opened his arms for me. I walked into them and felt his strength as he wrapped me up and pulled me close. “I want you to be happy too, Lucas. You’re too good for this town. You get that, right?”
“Is that what you think?” I asked. It felt nice being held.
“Yeah, I do. That’s why I want you andWall Streetto patch shit up.”
I pushed myself from him and looked at his face. I tried to read him. He really did want the best for me. He understood that he and I weren’t meant for each other as well. “You really mean that, don’t you?” I asked.
“Sure, I do. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jenson. Just because I can’t have you doesn’t mean I want you to be alone.”
I had misjudged Clint Bowers. He was definitely a man-boy. That part was true, but he was honest and kind. He was a reminder that there was some hope in this town. Who was I to judge his journey? I couldn’t figure the fuck outta my own, why belittle him and his?
He glanced around the room. “Where’s your cot? I’ll set it up for ya.” He looked toward the closet where I’d pulled it from before.
“Let’s fold out the sofa. We can share the bed,” I said, grabbing the sheets from the dresser drawer. His eyes widened. “To sleep, Clint. That’s all.”
