Chapter 5

Beast of burden

My first day on the job without Jaxson’s guidance is fucking brutal. I can’t remember the last time the sun felt so blistering fucking hot. By the end of the day, sweat pours down my body and my muscles throb, begging for a break. We’ve been digging a form for a sidewalk for days now and it’s been more difficult than I’d imagined. Thankfully, I’ve stayed in decent shape over the years. Otherwise, the job would’ve been fucking embarrassing. I don’t want to look like a pussy next to some of the other men my age.

By quitting time, I’m starving and not particularly in the mood for chit-chat. I’m an introvert by nature and after being surrounded by these guys all day, I just want to enjoy the quiet of my own company. I say a quick goodbye to the crew before heading to my truck, which is parked aimlessly on the side of the road. When it comes to food, there aren’t a lot of good options around this job-site. All the restaurants have bars—which is how I ended up in a small coffee shop a few miles away named Sufficient Grounds. I clean up my appearance, although, I know my efforts are basically futile. My unruly hair is worse than usual and my body is covered in dirt and sweat. My white T-shirt is so wet it’s practically molded to me like a second skin and my jeans are covered in mud. Well, fuck it. It’s not going to get much better than this. I jump out of my truck and head inside the coffee shop with the intention of making this trip as quick as possible.

I keep my head down as I dodge around the people exiting the coffee shop and head straight inside. I just want to order and get the hell home. As I wait in line, I notice everyone ahead of me is on their phones. I feel awkward standing around without a bright screen to look at. I’ve had the same phone since high school and it looks like a brick compared to the new ones I’ve seen people have nowadays. I don’t see the point of buying something fancier. It’s not like I have a Facebook or an Instagram account to share my shit with the whole world. It’s not like I want any of that social media crap anyway. I don’t need to see what everyone I know is doing. Hell, I don’t even know that many people. Come to think of it, I really don’t have any friends at all now. When I left my old life behind, I left my friends from that life behind, too. I knew they would just drag me down and tempt me into going back to that lifestyle.

Excluding the friends I’ve had for the past few years, I’d only have my friends from high school left to chat with on social media. I cringe at the thought of seeing them now. I bet they all have nice houses with white picket fences, promising jobs, 2.5 kids, and a dog. They’re probably off living the “American dream” while I’m hanging on by a thread. I just can’t stomach the thought of seeing snapshots of their perfect lives. Or maybe they’re just perfect snapshots of a life that is truly mediocre?

As I watch the people in line ahead of me play with their phones, I shift uncomfortably on my heels. As I look around the small coffee shop, I can’t help but notice the appreciative looks I’m receiving. I can’t understand why because I imagine I look like complete shit after working outdoors under the summer sun. However, the women in this place don’t seem to mind. Hell, if I didn’t have so many responsibilities and people who depend on me, I’d take them up on the offers their eyes suggest. The thoughts of my little guy waiting for me at home keep me from making any rash decisions and, before I know it, it’s finally my turn to order. I grab a random espresso drink with two extra shots—after the barista recommends them to me since I probably look haggard as fuck—and a sandwich from their little display at the counter. For a moment, I wonder if I should order something for Grey, and the thought causes me to laugh at myself. It’s not like a five-month-old baby can eat a giant cookie.

As I move to stand at the edge of the counter to wait for my order, I hear the front door chime and the energy in the coffee shop seems to shift. My skin pricks with goosebumps and I turn around to find a familiar face sauntering in. It’s the woman from Safeway. The shy and sexy brunette I couldn’t keep my eyes off of. I try not to stare this time, not wanting to make a complete ass of myself. She’s going to think I’m stalking her or something if I keep looking at her like she’s something to eat.

She doesn’t seem to see me at first. She’s fumbling through her purse as she walks toward the line with her head down and her long, dark chocolate colored hair hiding her pretty face. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll notice me. It sounds fucking crazy, but I felt her when she walked into the room. She stands in line and smiles as she finally finds her wallet and pulls it out of her purse. As she does so, she looks up and her eyes meet mine. They widen as they take in my appearance and I can’t help but grimace. I know I look rough. Especially to a beautiful, polished girl like her. I bet she likes preppy, successful guys. I know the type of guy who’s usually with a chick like her and it’s definitely not me. Her eyes trail up and down my arms, taking in my tattoos before they pop back up to my face. She’s blushing! Maybe she does like what she sees, after all.

“Trevor!” The barista calls my name, causing me to break eye contact with the beauty across the room.

I grab my sandwich and coffee drink and, for a moment, I consider walking up to the brunette and asking her for her number. I could program it into my phone along with my six other contacts. Wow, how sad is that? Especially considering one of those contacts is for a take-out place. After deleting all of my old “friend’s” numbers, I really have no one left. I know I shouldn’t ask for her number. Even if she was interested in me that way—which I highly doubt—I don’t have anything to offer her. Hell, I can’t even afford to take her out on a proper date. I can’t keep kidding myself. So, I give her an awkward smile as I walk past her and head to the door.

She watches me the whole time, with a constant, curious gaze. I wish I could read her mind. What I wouldn’t give to know how she’s summing me up. I couldn’t help but notice the small smile which tugged on her lips as I passed her by. I wonder if that smile was for me. I hope so. I could use a beautiful smile from a beautiful girl.

I eat my sandwich and drink my espresso on my drive home with the sexy girl in my thoughts the whole drive. I wish I had the courage to at least introduce myself and ask for her name. I would like to know the name of the woman who haunts my thoughts—in the best of ways. She was more beautiful today than I remembered. She’s been in my mind since I saw her at the grocery store. I haven’t been consciously fantasizing about her or anything like that, but her face just drifts into my thoughts while I’m working or as I’m falling asleep. I run into hot women all the time, but none of them get under my skin the way she does. My thoughts certainly don’t linger on the other attractive women I see. Out of sight, out of mind, just like most men. We see someone hot, appreciate them while they’re in view, and move on. I suppose it’s only the exceptional ones which stick in our minds. And this brunette is definitely exceptional.

She remains in the forefront of my mind as I drive home, and my thoughts only shift as I see Grey. I find him in the living room in his usual spot while my mother lounges on the couch with a magazine in her hands as she keeps a watchful eye over him. I give my mother a smile—which she doesn’t even bother to look up to return—before joining Grey on the floor. He squeals as soon as he sees me and tries to wiggle his body across the blanket to reach me. I’ve got to chuckle as I watch the little guy; I appreciate the amount of progress he’s made. Unable to resist, I pull him into my arms and tickle his stomach.

My mother sighs, dropping her magazine onto her lap. “I’m going to get started on dinner, Trevor. Are you okay with him?”

“Do you think you could watch him for a little longer? I really need to take a shower,” I say, gesturing to my filthy clothes.

She gives me a tight smile and nods. While it’s not exactly warm, it is progress for her. She only really smiles around my dad now. I often wonder if being around me is too painful for her. Maybe I’m a constant reminder of Dean not being here with us. I quickly thank her before heading to the upstairs bathroom. I strip and jump into the shower, moaning in relief as the hot water hits my skin.

As I wash off the dirt and grime, my mind drifts to my beautiful brunette. Well, she’s not my brunette, but this is my fantasy, so she belongs to me. I think of her pretty green eyes and voluptuous figure as my hand drifts slowly down my body. Fuck, I can’t help myself. The water is so soothing; I barely get time alone between my job and taking care of Grey. I close my eyes and allow myself to fall victim to my fantasy. I enjoy every second of it.

 

 

I bound down the stairs wearing a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt, feeling like a new man. I retrieve Grey from my mother and hang back for a moment as I watch her take a long drink of wine as she stirs whatever she’s making in the pot on the stove’s burner. I stare at her drink for a moment, and even lick my lips with desire for it before the sounds of Grey’s laughter pull my thoughts back to something more positive.

I smile at him, grateful he saved me from a possible slip up. “Want to go read some comic books with your uncle?” I ask in a light, happy tone. His eyes widen and he smiles at me. I’ll take that as a “yes.” “Okay, little man. Comic books it is.”

I read him one of my old favorites: Ultimate Spider-Man #33. From the expression on Grey’s face, he seems to love the Venom arc, as well. As the comic comes to its end, Grey’s smile transforms into a constipated frown right before an unbearable smell quickly fills the room.

“Shit, buddy,” I say with a laugh as I wave my hand in front of my nose. He giggles at my expression and kicks his legs around, making the stink even worse. “Let’s get you cleaned up, little man.”

Changing diapers is more difficult than I fucking imagined. I’ve been changing these things for weeks now and I still haven’t gotten the hang of it. How does my mother make this look so easy? Of course, Grey’s no help to me at all; he just kicks his legs around and laughs at my struggles. I suppose I do look funny. A grown man fumbling around and freaking out about a diaper.

“Come on, Grey. Behave for a minute and be still for me,” I plead as I pull his dirty diaper out from underneath him, ball it up, and throw it into the trashcan next to me.

He giggles at my actions and cocks his head to the side, gazing up at me for a moment before he squeals in excitement and waves his little hands around. I guess he’s really happy about not being covered in shit. I’ve got to laugh at him because he acts like a little drunk person. Laughing, mumbling, and shitting himself… it’s hilarious to watch. I open my mouth to say something to him but close it immediately as I see piss shoot up, aiming at my face. I cringe as it gets all over me. As soon as my body can manage a reaction, I throw my hands up in an effort to shield my face from his attack. When my mind finally kicks into gear, I jump out of the way and grab a few baby wipes. I wipe my face and hands off, scrubbing my skin like a fucking germaphobe.

“Buddy,” I complain, after I’ve sufficiently wiped off my face and arms.

He giggles and claps his hands together, causing the corners of my mouth to twitch until I break out into a smile. He’s just so innocent and untroubled as he enjoys the beginning of his life. I envy him. It takes me a moment, but I manage to get him into a clean diaper and dressed in a comfortable onesie. As soon as I’m finished, I pick him up, holding him against my chest, enjoying the smell of baby powder and the feeling of his fuzzy, little head against my cheek.

“Why don’t we watch a movie, buddy,” I suggest as I carry him into my room.

I place him carefully on the floor next to me as I crouch down and look through my old DVD collection. I have to snort at some of the choices, remembering the many movies I purchased just because they featured a hot female lead. I’ve got a plethora of action movies, science-fiction, and movies that are so bad, they’re funny. Knowing I can’t watch a movie like The Room with a baby present, I decide on a sci-fi movie without nudity and special effects form 1977. I put the disk into the DVD player before leaning back against the side of my bed. Pulling Grey onto my lap, I give him one of my fingers to play with as the opening titles sound.

Just as Alderaan is being destroyed, I hear my door creak open and find my dad standing in its frame. “I just wanted to check on you guys,” he says with a smile, before stepping inside of my room. He sits down on my bed and chuckles as he sees what movie I’m watching. “You were so obsessed with this as a kid. You would dress up like Luke and you’d force Dean to dress up like Han and fight you. For some reason you thought they were enemies,” he says with a chuckle.

I smile at the sound of his laughter, it’s so satisfying to hear since it’s a rarity these days. “Hey, I thought they were both battling over Leia. I had no idea she was his sister back then,” I say in my defense.

“You two were a force to be reckoned with,” Dad says in a voice rich with melancholy. With a bittersweet smile, he asks, “How have things really been for you, Trevor? I know this has been quite the transition for you.”

He’s known about my struggle. He’s always known, although, he’s never admitted it. He always had faith in me when it felt like no one else did. He never gave up hope on me, even when I was a plane ride away and almost so far gone I was forever out of his reach. He’s stronger than he gives himself credit for and has always been the glue which held this family together. I always admired him for that.

“It’s been fine,” I assure him, not wanting to open up. “The new job has been good so far. I’m sure it will be a nice, steady income.” I shrug my shoulders, knowing my few accomplishments don’t sound like much. “Maybe once I’ve saved up enough money, I can get a place for Grey and me.”

“That sounds wonderful, son,” he responds, his voice strong with pride and sincerity. “Do whatever is right for you. I’ll support you every step of the way. I’m very proud of you, Trevor.”

A comfortable silence fills the room as we all focus on the movie. I’m thankful for the silence, because I’m so overwhelmed I can barely speak. I’m afraid if I reply to him, my voice will crack, making me feel like a child again. I feel so young all of the sudden, relishing in the fact that my father’s proud of me. It’s something that could be easily taken for granted by so many, but hearing those words means everything to me. He believes in me, and because of that, I feel like I can do anything.