chapter 21

zombie

Quinton makes me feel like my old self: the person I was before the boozing, fighting, and whoring around. He brings me back to the days when I was much younger and my life was much simpler. Before the drugs, fighting, and sex—I’d stay in my room all day reading comics and pretending I was anywhere but home. My life wasn’t perfect then, but it was before I fucked everything up so thoroughly.

When I think back to that time, I realize things had never been great for me. I always thought since I hadn’t been abused or severely neglected, my childhood really hadn’t been that bad. In many ways, it was fine, I did have some great memories involving my brother and father, but I never felt content. I’ve always felt like an outsider. I’d been depressed for a very long time. I never wanted to admit it growing up—but something inside me never felt quite right. Everyone would be smiling and laughing around me, and I’d just be there—merely existing.

Reflecting on my childhood now causes me to look at it with a more critical eye. Had my mother ever really been nice to me? Had she ever shown me any emotion, other than indifference, when it hadn’t directly benefited her? I can’t answer that question, mostly because I don’t want to believe what’s obviously the fucking truth—even when the truth is staring me in the fucking face. I can’t think of one instance where she was ever really warm toward me. When my dad was around, she’d show an appropriate amount of affection, but when he wasn’t… well, she’d barely even acknowledge my existence. I felt like the odd man out in my own home.

I think Dean picked up on it because he spent so much time making sure I was all right. He must’ve known something was wrong because whenever our mother would show him affection in front of me he always seemed uncomfortable, and almost apologetic. He witnessed the coldness in her heart, even though he never had to experience it firsthand. Perhaps that’s why he appointed me as Grey’s guardian; he knew that beyond my rough exterior and troubled past, I’d be able to love his son the way a child should be loved. Unlike my mother, I can give Greyson the love and guidance he deserves.

One particular memory has stuck with me from my childhood. It’s random, but I’ve always remembered it. When I was around six years old, I remember I went with my mother to one of Dean’s plays in elementary school. I’d been so excited about seeing my older brother—who had always been my idol—acting on stage with all of his friends. I wanted to sit on my mom’s lap so I could see better, but she wouldn’t let me because she was holding the camera. I remember feeling sad, but I’d been quickly distracted by the play. Halfway through, I had to go to the bathroom, but my mom didn’t want to take me because she’d miss some of the play. “Go ahead, Trevor. You know where the bathroom is.” I went off by myself and found the bathroom easily enough, but on the way back to the auditorium I got lost. I hadn’t recognized my surroundings and I cried because I was so scared I’d never see Dean again. Eventually, some nice older woman found me. I remember her yelling at my mom when we finally found her. As scared as I’d been, all I can remember was how frightened I was at the thought I’d never see my brother again. Looking back, I can’t believe my mom let me go off by myself like that. I couldn’t imagine letting Grey go anywhere alone at that age. Just the thought of him walking around empty hallways with tears running down his face makes me want to throw up.

“You okay, man?”

Quinton pulls me from my thoughts. I give him a tight smile, not wanting to talk about it. I hate how weak memories of my past make me feel. I feel as though I’m still the same helpless, confused little boy I was back then. It’s times like this when I wish I could drink. The cool taste of a hoppy IPA from Evergreen Tap House would really hit the spot right now.

“I’m fine,” I finally answer him. “Just thinking.” One of the things I like about Quinton is that he’s great about knowing when and when not to ask me questions. It’s as if he can sense my emotions or some shit like that. We’ve only hung out twice since we met this past weekend and we already get each other. “Do you think the girls are having fun?” I ask, steering the topic of conversation away from me.

He snorts and takes a drink of his soda. I feel bad that he can’t drink around me, but he’s insisted he doesn’t mind. “Well, they’re at the mall, so my wife is definitely having fun. I’m not sure about your girl, though. She’s never seemed like the type to like long shopping trips.”

Eden had insisted that Harper and Ronnie go with her to the mall for a “girl’s day.” I’m not sure what the fuck that means but, judging by the look on my girl’s face, it didn’t seem like that much fun. She doesn’t like to go shopping because she finds it frivolous, but she was happy about spending the day with her sister and Harper. Plus, she wanted to give me some “bounding time”—her words not mine—with Quinton. So, we’ve been watching movies with Grey while they’ve been out on their little adventure.

“Yeah, Ronnie doesn’t seem to like shopping. The only shopping I’ve ever seen her do is online,” I say conversationally as Grey begins to stir awake in my lap. He stretches his arms above his head and his mouth forms a little “o,” before he opens his eyes and looks up at me with a toothy grin. He has two little teeth now. My little guy is growing up so fucking fast! He yawns again, and reaches his little arms toward me, indicating that he wants to be held.

“God knows I love Eden, but I can’t stand to spend more than an hour at a time at the mall. I always end up sitting with the other miserable looking husbands at the food court while she does her shopping.”

I chuckle at his comment.

“You’ll understand one day. I’m sure Ronnie will drag you somewhere boring as hell until you’ll end up sitting with all the other men, too.”

Hell, I’d let Ronnie drag me anywhere and I’d be perfectly content.

I turn my attention to Grey, who’s resting comfortably on my shoulder. He’s happy now that I’m holding him close to my chest. “Dada,” he says as if he were testing out the word again. “Dada, dada, dada.”

Quinton smiles at the interaction and I quickly explain, “It’s the only thing he knows how to say.”

“Hey, I get it. Every boy loves his dad. Hell, I can’t wait until Eden and I have another. I’ve always wanted to have a son.”

I almost correct him, saying Grey isn’t biologically mine, but I keep my mouth shut. Grey is my son now, in almost every sense of the word. “I’m lucky to have him, I’d never thought I’d be a father.”

“Well, you’re doing great, man. It seems like you’re a natural.”

I smile at his compliment and look down at my son. “Well, he’s pretty cool and doesn’t give me too much grief.”

“I was thinking,” Quinton says after a while. “Eden and I can babysit sometime if you want. I know you must want some alone time with Ronnie.”

My mind reels with possibilities. I haven’t had a night to myself in so long and with the way our relationship is progressing, I know a night alone with my girlfriend is long overdue. I’ve purposely taken things slow with Ronnie, not wanting to ruin our relationship by allowing things to get too physical, too fast. I want her desperately, but I also want our first time together to be special. I don’t want to just fuck her like some asshole. That was how the old me would treat a piece. I couldn’t imagine the old me ever getting a chance to fuck a girl like Ronnie. I’m just not that guy anymore. Back then, I’d probably end up banging her brains out on the couch or the floor of my apartment. I shudder at the thought of it. My girl deserves the absolute best, that is, if she wants to move forward with the physical side of our relationship. If she’ll agree to let me make love to her, I’ll make sure it’s the most incredible and loving experience of her life.

“That’d be great, man. I could take Ronnie out on our first real date as a couple and see how the night… progresses.”

Quinton laughs at me. I’m know I’m being fucking dumb. He obviously knows what’s on my mind. “Well, good luck to the two of you.”

I don’t need luck. God, that overly confident thought makes me want to laugh. If I’m going to plan the perfect date for my girlfriend, I’m definitely going to need all the luck I can get. 

 

 

Work is slowing down now that the end of September is approaching and the air is getting much colder. Despite the cooler temperatures, I still love this time of year. I love the way the cold air feels as it engulfs my lungs; it’s so cleansing after smoking for so long. Thankfully, the sun isn’t as painfully hot as it once was, which makes working outdoors for hours at a time less of a shit-show.

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite after work?” Jaxson jovially asks as soon as we’re finished for the day.

I know that they usually hit up a nearby pub after work. They sit in the restaurant, far removed from the bar, but the ambiance alone isn’t good for me. I would know alcohol’s there, and I know I’d feel it tempting me from across the fucking restaurant. It’s so fucking difficult to find a place where I’m safe from the temptation. With my problem, it could easily cause me to become an outcast. Due to my appearance, people tend to think I’m down for anything. Throw the multitude of men I work with into a mix… and it’s almost as if I’m expected to kick it and drink.

“Thanks for the offer, man, but I actually have plans with my girlfriend after this.”

Jaxson’s face transforms into pure fucking glee as he gives me a firm pat on the back. “Ronnie’s your girlfriend now? Why didn’t you mention it sooner? That’s great man! Congratulations!”

I shrug my shoulders, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. I didn’t mention my new relationship because I thought by speaking too soon, I’d mess it up. I don’t want to jinx things.

“It’s still new, but things are going great so far.”

“That’s awesome, man! By the way you’re always talking about her, I knew things must be heating up between you two.”

Do I really talk about her that much? I guess this shouldn’t be a shock. I know her name flies out of my mouth every two seconds. What can I say? She and Grey are the two things I’m most proud of.

“Yeah, man. You talk about her a lot.” Jaxson chuckles, letting me know that I said all that shit out loud. “Well, have fun tonight. Maybe you and I can get together later this week?”

I nod and begin to pack up my stuff. On the few occasions Jaxson and I have hung out, he’s always made it a point to take me somewhere that’s been “safe” for me to go to. I don’t like having to always put him out like that. Maybe Dr. Russell was right. Maybe a few A.A. meetings would go a long way in helping me cope with my issues. I’ve never been addicted to alcohol per se, but now that I’m sober, I realize my problem was worse than I thought. Quitting never gave me the shakes; I never flipped my lid at someone over it—but I still crave alcohol constantly. If it weren’t for my beautiful, supportive girlfriend—whom I doubt I deserve—and Grey, I honestly don’t believe I’d be as successful as I am now.

I consider the meetings on the drive home. I think it’d be a good thing to talk it over with Ronnie. She always gives the best advice and is supportive of me no matter what. The thought of attending any meetings used to make me feel weak—as if I went to a meeting all my problems would instantly be real. Although, now the more I think about it, the more I’m warming up to the idea. The thought of talking about my dependencies in front of a group makes me feel sick, but I could always just sit quietly and listen. Maybe that could be beneficial in its own way—at least, in the beginning. I grow weary as I inwardly wrestle with the idea, and by the time I make it home, I’m exhausted both physically and mentally. It must be obvious because Ronnie gives me a sympathetic look as soon as I walk through the door.

“Baby, we don’t have to go out tonight,” Ronnie says as she pulls me into a hug. “Grey and I would be just as happy eating in.”

I pull back and smile at her, grateful that she knows me so well already. “That sounds good, babe. I’ll just have to take you out some other time.” I give her a long, appreciative kiss before pulling away to look at my girl again. She looks so down-to-earth and radiant in her yoga pants and sweat-shirt, even without a single ounce of makeup. She’s such a natural beauty. I’m so lucky that she’s mine.

“We just need to run to the store first,” Ronnie says breathlessly, obviously still reeling from my kiss. “Do you guys want to stay here, or we can all go to the store together?”

As a family? Going to the store is just so fucking… normal. Normalcy was something I’ve actively avoided for the majority of my life, and now I crave it with everything in me. “We can all go,” I answer with a grin. “Just let me change real quick.”              

Ronnie’s gaze follows me as I walk toward my bedroom. Feeling her eyes on my body makes me wonder how she’d react if I changed in front of her. I leave the door to my bedroom open and stand where I know she could see me if she wanted to. When I feel her eyes on me—I strip. I don’t look down the hall at her because I don’t want to be too obvious, but I can feel she’s sneaking glances. I take my time changing, to give my shy girlfriend a little peepshow. However, when I hear my son begin to cry I speed it up. I know her seeing my ass is not more important than tending to him. Grey isn’t too bad when I’m gone, but when he knows I’m nearby he’ll cry if I don’t give him enough attention. I pull my shirt over my head and hurry back into the living room to pick him up off the floor before he has a fit. As soon as I meet Ronnie’s gaze, she blushes and bites her bottom lip as she gives my now clothed body a once-over.

“You ready to go?” I ask as if I hadn’t just stripped naked in front of her on purpose.

She gives me a sheepish smile and a nod. She’s still fucking blushing! I can’t help the cocky smirk that’s on my face as we make our way out to my truck. Ronnie makes me feel so incredible. I’ve never had any confidence in myself, but one smile from her and my self-esteem skyrockets.

The drive to the supermarket is short and Grey spends the duration babbling loudly in his car seat. I hold Ronnie’s hand on the center console, rubbing circles on her palm as I enjoy the feeling of the warmth of her skin against mine. She straightens up in her seat as soon as I pull into the parking lot of a nearby supermarket. This girl may hate shopping for things she deems “frivolous” but she sure as hell loves shopping for groceries.

“Okay, we’ll be in and out really quick, I promise,” Ronnie assures me as we walk past the rows of cars to the store’s entrance.

I give her a knowing smile. Every time she’s gone grocery shopping in the past, she’d be gone for over an hour. I never understood what took so long to buy such a small list of items. Now, I know why. As soon as we walk through the automatic doors and enter the store, she’s all smiles. Her eyes are darting all over the place as if she can’t decide where to head to first. Ronnie insists we take a “lap around the store,” and I find I’m too in love to argue with her. However, thirty minutes in the women’s clothing section is where I draw the line. Grey’s entertained at least; he reaches out to touch each and every piece of clothing just to feel the fabric.

“Do you mind if I take him to the toy department?” I ask, not wanting to let on to how bored I am, and I chuckle to myself as Quinton’s words come back to bite me in the ass.

She looks up at me from the pile of clothing in her hands. “That’s fine, I’ve got to try on this stuff anyway. Just call me if you get lost.”

I bend down to give her a quick kiss, but as soon as her lips move against mine, I find it hard to pull away. We kiss longer than what’s appropriate for a public setting and I’m completely lost in the pleasurable taste of her sweet tongue working against mine. It takes my very loud son to bring me back to my senses.

“Dada,” he says as he pulls on my shirt, trying to get my attention. “Dada!”

I finally pull away from Ronnie to look down at my distraught son, who’s now yanking vehemently on my shirt. “Dada!” He reaches up for me and I give him a small kiss on the forehead, which immediately appeases him.

“We’ll be back soon,” I promise.

As I leave the clothing section, I notice women who are blatantly staring at me. I wonder if it’s due to the fact I practically mauled my girlfriend in the middle of the store. The staring doesn’t stop as I leave the women’s clothing section. No, it continues as I make my way down the aisles until I finally reach the toys. There are a few women who are openly ogling me. They’re whispering to each other as they’ve abandoned their carts in the middle of the aisles. They’re attractive in a way—but would look much better if their faces hadn’t been so surgically enhanced. That shit has honestly always freaked me out. I’ve always liked the more natural looking women. Natural like my Ronnie.

“That’s such a cute baby,” says the blonde with the most plastic looking face out of her entire group. “He looks so much like you,” she flirts. “Such a handsome little boy.”

“Thanks,” I comment, taken completely off guard by her blatant flirting.

“Do you need help finding anything? My friends and I can show you around if you’d like?”

I give her an uneasy smile, looking around in hopes that my girlfriend would choose this moment to show up. “I’m good, actually. I’m just taking my son to look at the toys while my girlfriend shops.” I’ve got a girlfriend, so fuck off, is what my tone is screaming, but apparently that’s not obvious to this chick.

“Well, your girlfriend shouldn’t leave a guy like you alone for too long.”

“Yeah,” I say, curtly. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” I lie before continuing down the aisle of the toy section.

“We’ll be right here, baby!” one of her bolder friends yells in my direction. Is this how women feel when they get cat called? Fuck, that must be terrible.

I shake the unpleasant thoughts those women caused my mind to conjure up and focus on Grey—who starts kicking in my arms as soon as he sees the toys. I take a moment to enjoy the Star Wars action figures and Lego sets. I wonder if it’d be considered way too geeky for me to buy a Millennium Falcon Lego set for myself? The sensible part of me knows having a bunch of Lego pieces lying around wouldn’t be safe for a baby, and I’d rather be safe than sorry. Honestly, that’s the only thing that’s holding me back from indulging. I can’t wait until he’s older and can build these sorts of things with me. Sighing, I move on to the toys I know are deemed safe for his age.

We pass a line of different rattles and bathroom toys, until we reach a mountain of stuffed animals. Grey lets out a squeal as soon as he sees a Winnie-the-Pooh bear that’s bigger than he is. He reaches for it and strings together a bunch of syllables. It must be his way of say, “Give me, daddy! Give me!”

I pull the toy from the shelf and hold onto it, since it’s too big for my son to wrap his arms around. I select a couple more bath toys from the shelf before heading to the children’s book section. There’s some board books I remember from my childhood and a few more mature titles I know he’ll love as well. I pick a copy of The Giving Tree, one of my favorites as a boy despite how depressing it is, and then I choose several Dr. Seuss titles. Grey eyes the large green book in my left hand and points, as if to ask, “What’s that, daddy?”

“This was one of your daddy’s favorite books when he was a kid.” It was one of Dean’s favorite books, as well. Our father would read this one to us all of the time.

Grey pulls on the corner of the book’s cover, trying his best to open it. He’s so curious and I know, from his behavior, he wants me to read to him. I place the toys I was holding in my left arm on the shelf and open the book with my right hand while positioning Grey so he can see the pages from his spot in my arms. The book’s illustrations captivate his attention, but as soon as I begin to read the Shel Silverstein classic, his eyes are on me.

Grey gives me a gummy smile, showing me his two small teeth, and wiggles in my right arm. I point to the artwork of the little boy with a crown of leaves as I read and Grey giggles, kicking his legs like he usually does when he’s excited about something.

I hear the sound of someone approaching and I stop reading the story. I gaze up, expecting to find Ronnie, but instead I notice a woman who I’ve never seen before. She’s beautiful with chestnut brown hair and green eyes. She has a lovely face, with a few wrinkles that suggests she’s in her late forties. She seems familiar, but I can’t exactly put my finger on why.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she quickly apologizes. “I just heard you reading the story and got distracted,” she admits with a girlish laugh.

She takes a step closer, but I don’t move back. The woman gazes down at Grey and her attractive face looks troubled suddenly.

“Is something wrong?”

She shakes her head and doesn’t look at me. “No, it’s nothing. How old is he?”

“He’ll be a year old in January.”

She nods and continues to stare at my son. Before I can question her about what she’s doing, she speaks again. “He just reminds me a bit of my son when he was a baby. He looked a lot like your son—in a way.” She smiles at the memory. “A full head of hair and big, bright eyes. The book you’re reading… I used to read that to my son all of the time when he was a newborn. It was his absolute favorite, as well as mine.”

Ronnie comes down the aisle with a pile of clothing in her cart. She gives the woman next to us a kind smile and introduces herself. The woman suddenly looks embarrassed and backs away from us. She apologizes, before stepping back over to her cart and walking away.

Ronnie looks as confused as I feel. “Who was that woman?” she asks as she helps me place our toys and books in the cart.

I’m baffled. Although she seems familiar, I can’t—for the life of me—place her. “I’ve no idea.”