Christmas Home (The Coming Home #6)

46. Clyde

forty-six

Clyde

T he knock at the door didn’t surprise me. I figured Ruther would come, and to be honest, I was feeling bad about my outburst. I hadn’t meant to let my insecurities cause me to lash out at him. It took a long cry to figure out that’s what I’d done.

I opened the door and was disappointed to see Corey. “Um, hi, come in,” I said.

Corey nodded and came in, shutting the door behind him. “I brought you this,” he said, handing me a letter.

He was about to go, but hesitated. “Can I…I might be overstepping here, but can I offer some advice?”

I didn’t know what Ruther had told him, and I was afraid this letter was telling me to fuck off for good, but I nodded anyway.

“Can we sit?” Corey asked, and I pointed at the dining table. “Have you ever heard of Queensbridge?” he asked, and I shook my head no. “It’s a housing project for poor people in Queens. That’s where I grew up.”

That revelation shocked me. “You grew up in the projects?”

He chuckled. “I did. Listen, Clyde, I don’t know what happened. Ruther didn’t go into detail, but he told me enough to know you were questioning your social status compared to his. I think I can help you overcome some of that. I applied for a job with Ruther’s father twice, determined to get a job working as anything they had open. They were starting a project near where I grew up. I remember envying all the people driving beautiful cars and wearing designer clothes. The only other people I’d seen in those around my hood were drug dealers. But these men had legitimate businesses. Ruther’s father was an ass. He might have touted the Quaker heritage, but he was as judgmental as any New York elite. I was determined, though. I knew that if I could get in with them, they might be my way out of the projects.”

He paused and looked at me, making sure I was listening. “Ruther’s father wasn’t there the day I came back to beg for a job. I was willing to clean their fucking toilets if it meant earning a position there. Ruther looked at me in the suit my dad had bought at a thrift store. I was waiting for him to kick me out like his dad had done the day before. Instead, he said, ‘Do you know where I can get a good cup of coffee?’ I didn’t. Honestly, I’d never bought coffee before in my life. Neither of my parents drank it, but I’d seen a Dunkin Donuts down the street from Queensbridge. ‘Um, yeah,’ I said, praying the coffee I’d seen people taking out of the donut place was decent. He handed me ten bucks and told me to bring him a latte. A word I’d only heard on TV. I ran all the way and cut in front of several people, ignoring their protests and announcing I needed a latte.” He chuckled at the memory.

“The barista shrugged and asked what size. I froze. I had no fucking idea. I just told her to give me the biggest she had. It worked. They gave me the coffee, and I almost burned my fingers rushing it back to his office. Ruther saw me come in, took the coffee, tasted it, and smiled. Then he asked when I could start.”

A tear slipped out of his eye, and he wiped it gently away. “Clyde, that man shouldn’t have given that ghetto boy a chance. No one else would’ve. He did, and because he did, I went to college and eventually graduated with an MBA. All of which Ruther paid for, using his father’s company funds.”

He stared at me for a long time, looking thoughtful, before he continued. “You aren’t right if you think Ruther would ever snub you or toss you away because of how you grew up. Ruther doesn’t judge people, even though sometimes his demeanor indicates that he does, or could.”

I sighed and nodded. “I was just about to go over and apologize. I-I should do that now.”

Corey shook his head. “No, he’s gone to Nashville.” He sighed and stood up. “I love Ruther like he’s family, so this is me being overprotective by overstepping. You aren’t the only person who can get hurt here. I know you’ve had a hard past. Shit, man, I have too, but Ruther’s heart is delicate. He’s taken a liking to you, more than any other man I’ve ever seen him with. I was there this morning when he admitted to Jen that you hadn’t even given him your phone number. I saw the hurt he always hides so well. You might not mean to, but you’re hurting him by not trusting him. If you’re fucking him around because you want someone fun, you should let him go. Ruther has some major shit he’s dealing with right now, and I’ve never been more impressed with him for facing it down. He needs friends, but he sure as hell doesn’t need someone pulling his chain and leading him on.”

He paused, like he wanted to say more, then took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, staring at me the entire time.

“As his friend and now business partner, I’m asking you, man to man, to do right by him, Clyde. If you want him, hold on because you’ll never find a better man to love. But if you don’t, for all that’s good in this world, let him go before you break him beyond what those of us who love him can repair.”

He stood up from the dining table and left without saying goodbye.

I just sat there, stunned by Corey’s unvarnished words. He’d dressed me down pretty hard, but he also made me think about things in a way I hadn’t until now.

I opened the letter and read. I’ll admit it hit me harder because of Corey’s words. I could see the pain Ruther was suppressing as he wrote, and I ended up having another long bout of crying.

After I got myself under control, I gave Anita a call. I’d never taken her up on the offer to call her when things were more than I could handle. It never felt right, and I had to force myself to swallow my pride about disrupting her when I knew she was having family time.

When she answered, and I asked if she had a moment, I told her what’d happened.

“Do you not trust him, Clyde?” she asked.

I wiped away the tears that hadn’t stopped flowing since Corey left. “I do trust Ruther, and Corey confirmed what I already knew, that he’s a good guy. But I-I fuck men up.”

“How, how do you fuck men up?” Anita asked. Although we’d discussed this before, the argument felt more real when it concerned an actual man.

“I’m cursed, Anita, if I love him, he’ll—”

“He will become the monster your father was?” she asked, and I nodded, even though I knew she couldn’t see me.

“I’ll make him a bad man.”

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, using an endearment, which I don’t think she’d ever done before. “Listen to me, you’re not cursed, you’ve been hurt, and none of that was your fault. The adults in your life were supposed to protect and keep you safe. Not hurt you, not damage you. They made you think you were the problem, but sweetie, it never was you. You are beautiful inside and out, and even though I know that’s hard for you to see, to accept, it’s what’s true.”

“Every man I ever went out with, every single one, hit me, or hurt me, or stole from me—every one of them, Anita. The common theme here is me, I’m the problem.”

She paused, and, for a moment, I thought I might’ve convinced her. “The common denominator here, Clyde, is you were abused by someone who should’ve loved you, protected you. You didn’t make those men damaged or abusive. They already were. They recognized you and were drawn to you because they believed they would get away with being abusive. Let me ask you this. Do you think Ruther would ever physically harm you?”

I shook my head and answered, wiping the snot away from my face. “No, I don’t think that’s him.”

“Did his friend not tell you he was the best man he knew?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“He won’t go bad just because you love him, Clyde. Loving someone good and decent makes them better and even more decent. Loving someone who is hurt and who isn’t doing the work to make themselves better? That’s a different story. But Clyde, you’re doing the work even now as we’re having this conversation. You might have to accept the fact that by letting Ruther love you, you might actually be giving him the ability to become an even better man than he is now.”

I drew in a breath, shocked at that concept. My mind wanted to reject that line of reasoning even before I could consider it. No way could loving me make him a better man. But then, I remembered when he’d been on the verge of a panic attack, and I’d touched or distracted him, and he’d calmed down.

He’d admitted that and told me my presence made him feel calmer and more in control.

“Is that even possible?” I asked Anita, wanting desperately to believe it to be true.

She chuckled. “It’s a given to most people, my dearest Clyde,” she said, once again using another endearment. “Love makes most people better, lifts us up, and causes us to see the world differently, through the eyes of another person. Yes, I think that’s possible, but the question isn’t for me to answer. Do you, Clyde, believe that could be true?”

I nodded, instantly believing and surprised that I could. “Yeah, I-I think so.”

“When you know, or feel confident enough to let that be a possibility, then you should let Ruther know. I’m going to come to the clinic on Tuesday. Is that soon enough for us to have another session?”

“Yes, sorry for calling you at home.”

“No, stop that. This is the commitment I’ve made to you, and you’re worth it. If you need me in the meantime, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“Clyde?” she asked. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. This is tough for someone who’s been through the trauma you have.”

The tears hit me again, just hearing those words from someone I admired as much as I did Anita.

“Thank you,” I managed to say before I hung up.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, holding onto a pillow and crying harder than I had since I’d been a little boy.

Unlike then, I wasn’t crying because I’d been beaten up. Rather, I was crying because I realized I had been standing between myself and my happiness all because I thought something was wrong with me. Something that would turn the beautiful man I knew Ruther to be into my father.

After talking to Anita, I could see that for the bullshit it really was. Ruther would never become my father, and neither would I. But if I didn’t step up to the plate or let him off the hook, I was going to, as Corey pointed out, hurt him. Maybe not physically like my dad had done to me, or like the men I’d let into my life in the past, but I was going to cause him pain, nonetheless.

Now was the time for me to decide whether to let him in or not. I just wish I knew what decision I was going to make. I might want him, but that didn’t mean I was strong enough to let him in. As I lay buried under my covers, I decided to use the time he’d given me to figure that out.

One way or another, I would give Ruther an answer the next time I saw him.