Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

24. Clyde

twenty-four

Clyde

I peered out my motel room door, double-checking the creepy man wasn’t watching and waiting for me. When the coast was clear, I slipped out and through the parking lot toward town.

I sighed in relief as I approached the donut shop. I hadn’t been anywhere but the café and the grocery store since arriving, and I figured I needed to expand my horizons a bit. I ordered a long John and hoped it would taste as delicious as the place smelled.

A good-looking guy behind the counter took my order. I almost thought he was gay until a woman carrying a wiggling toddler and tugging a kindergarten-age child came in and kissed him. Not that I should be speculating about who was gay or not anyway. I wasn’t interested, I reminded myself for the umpteenth time. The guy, even if he was bisexual and not in a relationship, wasn’t my type anyway. Too skinny, too, well…not enough. I like my men bigger, meatier, like Ruther. I inwardly sighed. No, no, not like Ruther. I’m not looking—

The young couple were cute together. The woman wanted to help, but the toddler wasn’t having any of it. Eventually, she kissed the man again, then pulled the kids back out of the bakery. I watched as the sweet young family headed for the swings in the park just beyond the shop.

Would that ever be my reality? I doubted it. I think I’d have loved having a family, though. Lord knows I’d helped raise my nieces and nephew. Being the youngest—significantly younger than my siblings—meant I was a built-in babysitter for their kids.

I enjoyed watching them grow up. Now they were all teenagers and hardly had time to acknowledge me when I did come home, which was seldom. Such is life, I guess. Once again, I wish I’d been closer to my family.

They weren’t particularly religious or anything, but they were also not great about me being gay. My dad’s abusive nature didn’t lend itself to a close-knit family either. After my parents divorced, Mom married another abusive man, divorced him, and married another. I hadn’t been around enough to know if the latest husband was abusive, but I didn’t doubt it, if history was any indication.

My sisters had done the same, but unlike Mom, they’d at least gotten rid of theirs and kept another one from coming in. Me, well, I’d followed the same pattern as Mom, except I got rid of mine before I could tie any knots. Fortunately for me, gay men didn’t procreate without planning and outside help, so children never factored into my messy relationships.

Small blessings, I guess. I sat pondering that as I finished my donut and coffee.

“Can I get you anything else?” the cute dad asked me from behind the counter.

I smiled at the thought of surprising Ruther and Corey. “Yeah,” I said before thinking better of it, “can you box me up a couple of your jelly donuts to go?”

He nodded and went to do as I asked. It was still early and probably crossing some line by just stopping by, but isn’t this what a friend would do? Besides, if we were going to drink wine, we needed full stomachs. That’s the excuse I could use. Mostly, I just wanted to see Ruther because seeing him kept me from thinking about my own bullshit. That’s probably codependency, but it sure beat being alone to dwell on things.

I rushed out of the bakery and down the road toward Ruther’s place, as I now thought of it, and was just about to go inside when I glanced back toward the street. A black pickup drove by, going way too fast for this part of town. I didn’t recognize the truck, but shit, shit, shit, was that—

I shook my head. No, the creepy guy from last night had just frayed my nerves. Jimmy wasn’t here, and he sure as hell didn’t drive a black pickup truck. He loved his crappy old Corvette, which ran horribly and smelled like exhaust inside.

Despite being sure that Jimmy driving by was just my imagination, I dashed into Ruther’s building. I took a few moments to still myself inside the front door and was just about to enter the hotel side, since I didn’t know where Ruther’s condo was, when Corey stepped into the hallway.

“Hi,” he said when he spotted me. “How are you this morning, Clyde?”

I smiled. “I decided to bring treats for you and Ruther,” I said and handed him the box, feeling way too awkward all of a sudden. “I-I figured we needed a full stomach if we’re going to drink this afternoon, so…anyway, I’ll see you around noon.” I turned to go.

“Wait, I’m sure Ruther would like to see you. We’re going to Jake and Lance’s soon to review some preliminary numbers for a project we’re considering, and I was about to talk to the hotel manager about…anyway, Ruther would probably like to thank you.”

I swallowed hard, resisting the urge to run. Instead, I nodded and followed Corey to the second floor and into the condo.

“Ruther, we’ve got company, and he brought…what did you bring?” Corey asked and looked into the box. “Oh, you are naughty.” Humor spread across his too-handsome face. “Ruther, he brought jelly donuts!”

I blushed. “Sorry, do you not like them?”

Corey laughed. “I’ve gained ten pounds since I’ve been here. Ten, and I’m not even exaggerating. I’m going to have to run an extra five miles on the treadmill to get rid of this, but it’ll be worth it.”

I smiled. I didn’t run on treadmills. Usually, the only running I did was away from my exes, but I knew how Southern food could put weight on. My pitiful small frame would likely always be next to nothing but skin and bones, no matter what I ate.

Before I could go through my normal self-deprecating internal speech about how unattractive I was, Ruther came out of a back bedroom. He was buttoning the top button of his shirt, and I caught a glimpse of his delightful chest hair. I swallowed hard and had to force my eyes to the floor and try to remove the vision of running my hands through that fur.

“This is a nice surprise,” Ruther said, causing me to look up at his smiling face.

“I…well, I tried out the donut place this morning and thought since we’re having wine for lunch, maybe you’d both like something to fill your stomachs before, you know, we go do that.”

“Smart thinking, and I love jelly donuts. Someday, when you come to New York, I’ll take you to my favorite bakery. It’s been in the same family for generations, and the donuts are so delicious they make you want to weep.”

I blushed this time because even if I were to throw caution to the wind and jump into bed with Ruther, I would likely never visit him in New York. It was a sweet comment, though.

“Well, Corey said you’ve got somewhere to be soon, so I won’t linger, but y’all enjoy those, okay?”

“No, wait, why don’t you join us? I’m sure Jake and Lance would enjoy your company as much as me, um, us,” he said, looking toward a bemused Corey.

“Oh, no, I don’t want to impose. Besides, I’d like to go wander around the park. I haven’t been over there yet, and I should probably stretch my legs a bit since I don’t do much of anything when Mrs. Cole gets her clutches into me.”

Ruther laughed and nodded, but I could tell he was disappointed. I probably should’ve stayed, but I was too nervous about just popping by. That, and I was still hot and bothered by the too brief glimpse of his chest. That image gave me way too many feels to deal with while sitting in front of him and his assistant.

“I’ll see you around noon. Enjoy the donuts,” I said, then made a beeline out their front door.

I sighed heavily and left the way I’d come, thankful I didn’t have to go through the hotel lobby to exit, so no one noticed me acting like a nutjob just because I’d been foolish enough to bring donuts instead of leaving well enough alone.

I checked the street, and not seeing any signs of the black pickup truck, I darted off toward the park.

It only took a few minutes to get there, and I sighed with relief as I walked under the canopy of some old trees that cast comforting shade, blocking out the already hot morning sun. It would be ridiculously hot this afternoon in these dog days of summer, as my granddaddy called the last days of the season.

Usually, I was inside running around the café, and although it got hot while I was working, I at least had some nice air-conditioning to get through the worst of it. I wandered around the park until I came to a swing set that sat mostly abandoned. It was older, and the newer set of swings across the park, closer to town, had clearly been used significantly more than this one in recent years. For me, though, it was perfect. Sorta concealed but with a view of Ruther’s building across the way.

My motel lay just around the corner from there. I swung myself up and watched to see if there was any evidence of the pickup truck. Luckily, there wasn’t, just the regular folks I’d met while working at the café. I let that comfort me, convincing myself I was being overzealous. Which with how good things were going, it was like me to be looking and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The breeze swept through my hair, and I felt the telltale signs of a thrill from swinging higher than I should. For a moment, the sensation made me feel like a kid again. Not the kid who spent most of his life afraid of his dad, but a kid who was free just to be happy.

I slowed my swinging and thought how odd it was to feel like that after so many years being afraid. I felt the emotions overtake me and quickly reached up to wipe away a tear that had escaped. I thought I’d long ago cried out the tears of my difficult childhood.

This time, I felt for the little boy who was never allowed to be a little boy. Too many years tiptoeing around an abusive jackass father and a codependent mom. I pushed off again and let myself embrace the joy of the moment.

I leaned back flat on the swing as the air rushed around me, and I laughed. I don’t know what magic they were brewing in Crawford City, but it felt like the right kind to heal my damaged heart.