"So, Mom says you're crashing at the old homestead."
"Yeah, it was really cool of her." Richard said this as he reached for Jerrod's duffle, not looking at his friend's face.
Quickly he turned the conversation to the job he'd gotten, and how it was enabling him to make headway on his student loan. He was gaining new skills and starting to get on his feet. Then he spent the drive home quizzing Jerrod about basic training, who was only too happy to extol the rigor of the exercise, and swear praisefully about the men who had shaped him into a soldier.
Richard commented with honest admiration, "That's really cool, man."
As soon as they got home, Richard excused himself to the garage, saying there was a project he had to finish before work the next day. Louisa was just getting home from work. Out of habit he took a step toward her, remembering in a split-second he wasn't supposed to kiss her. Just as he turned away, he caught the look of suspicion on Jerrod's face.
They got through dinner without too much trouble. Louisa wanted to hear about basic training, too, so a good part of the time was passed with Jerrod telling tall tales. Mother and son had always shared a sense of humour.
"So," she said, wide-eyed, "they made you scale Mount Everest with nothing but three Hershey bars and a pick-axe?"
"That's exactly right," Jerrod grinned. "And I had to buy my own axe!"
Richard guffawed into his Coke. It was almost like old times again — the three of them laughing around the dinner table. But throughout the evening, a sense of awkwardness wandered in here and there. The truth choked at Richard's throat.
Finally he cleared his plate. "I'll take out the trash," he offered.
"Let me give you a hand." Jerrod stood up.
Oh, no, here it comes. Richard straightened his back and focused his attention on the task at hand. Open the cupboard door under the sink. Pull out the wastebasket. Lift out the garbage bag. Tie it shut. Put in a fresh bag.
Jerrod picked up the garbage and strode out the back door. Richard followed his friend's retreating back, pausing only to throw a glance over his shoulder at Louisa. He mouthed, What now?
Her silent reply was to blow him a kiss.
Jerrod got right to the point. "What's going on between you and my mom?"
"It's not like that."
"Don't you lie to me. Are you shacking up with her?"
"Hold on. Just hold on, dammit—"
Jerrod's face was six inches from Richard's. The soldier poked his finger into his friend's chest. "You are not the man of this house. Don't even think about it!"
A stab of rage pierced Richard's forehead. He knew damn good and well how solidly he had been contributing to the household. "Well, you sure as hell aren't! Where are you! Going halfway around the globe to get shot at! That's a big help!"
"Motherfucker!" roared Jerrod. He grabbed Richard's shirt and the two men went down, scuffling and throwing punches. Blue language filled the air.
The screen door banged but neither looked up. "Stop it!" yelled Louisa. They paid no heed.
The sound of her retreating footsteps made no difference, either. A moment later they were both drenched by a sudden wave of water. They looked up to see her holding an empty bucket.
"I said STOP!" Louisa burst into tears. "I love you both, do you think you could not fight like dogs?!"
Immediately Richard was filled with shame. "I'm sorry," he began. He looked over at Jerrod, ready to make amends.
But Jerrod was on his feet and stomping around the side of the house. "You two enjoy your love nest!" he spat. "I'm gone."
* * *
The lovers lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. It was after eleven. Jerrod had not come home.
"I'm sorry." Richard apologized for at least the fifth time.
"You can stop saying that now. I've already accepted your apology."
"I know. I still feel bad."
There was silence for a while. Then: "I wonder when I should call the police."
Richard laughed. "Baby, he is the police."
Her little snort of answering laughter gave him a ray of hope, one about the size of a light bulb on a Christmas tree. She hadn't cracked a smile since dinner. For her buoyant spirit, that was a long time.
He rolled to his side and lay his arm across her chest. "You know he's fine. He just needs to cool off."
She kissed his forearm and turned in to his embrace. "I know," she sighed.
"How come you never told me?"
"Told you what?"
"That you loved me."
"Oh." In the darkness he could feel her shrug. "You never asked."
Her little giggle made Richard feel better — he thought maybe her worries had eased back some. But as the mother fell asleep, she mumbled, "I hope he comes home soon."
The sound of a buzzsaw awakened Richard at dawn. Leaving Louisa sleeping, he tiptoed down the hall.
The snoring was coming from Jerrod's room. Richard's lips quirked into a near-grin. "Chowderhead," he muttered. Things might be rocky for a while, but the three of them had been friends for a long time. How could they not work this out? They just had to. With that forced sense of optimism, he pulled on his work clothes and left as soundlessly as he could.
* * *
Richard had just finished lunch and was getting back to work when Louisa's car pulled up at the site. Jerrod was driving. He was alone.
A ripple went through the crew as Jerrod got out of the car. He was all spiffed up in his dress uniform. He picked his way over to Richard.
"Nice duds." Richard looked his friend up and down. "Come on, we can talk over here. How come you're all dressed up?"
Jerrod looked somewhat embarrassed. "I wanted to talk to you, and I thought I might have to convince your boss I was here on official business."
Richard had to laugh. "No, he's cool." Over Jerrod's shoulder, the man in question was staring. Richard waved and his boss nodded in return. The older man held up five fingers.
"I've got a few minutes. What's on your mind?"
"Well obviously, I'm sorry about last night, but I wanted to explain."
"No, I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry we weren't truthful with you."
"Thanks," Jerrod nodded. "But it isn't just that. There's something else I want to say."
Richard didn't say anything, just lifted his eyebrows and waited.
"My father — that miserable sperm donor, I mean — you know he never married my mother. He basically got her pregnant, then disappeared, the bastard. I know it doesn't make any sense, I know you're not him. I just couldn't stand the thought of her getting taken for a ride again."
"I'm really sorry." Richard didn't know what else to say.
Jerrod waved an arm. "Forget it. I didn't know," he inhaled and rolled his eyes straight up, as if the next part was hard to say: "I didn't know how much you've done to make her happy. You know that, don't you?"
"I think so. I hope so. I've tried to."
"We had a long talk over breakfast this morning. She said to me, 'Don't you think I deserve some happiness?' I felt like a jerk. I just never perceived my mom as someone who might — I mean, she's an adult in her own right. She has a right to be with someone. Even if it's you, I guess." His words were grudging, but his mouth suggested a smile.
Richard saw a glimmer of Louisa in Jerrod's face. He replied, "I would never do anything to hurt her or make her unhappy."
"I know that now."
The two men regarded each other. There was peace between them.
"I'm going to head on out, I just wanted you to know things are cool."
"She misses you, why don't you stick around a few more days?"
Jerrod shook his head. "Maybe next time. I still need some time to think, you know?"
After he drove off, Richard's boss asked what that was all about.
"Oh, you know. Taxes." The men laughed, and let it go.
* * *
Louisa wiped her eyes on Richard's shirt. He had filled her in on the afternoon's events. Her tears had not been violent, but left her feeling in need of comfort.
Her boyfriend kissed her forehead and settled her on the couch. "Wait here." In a few minutes he returned with a cool wet cloth. Lovingly he swabbed her face.
"Better?"
"Yes... I just wish I'd handled things differently." She had already said this.
He set the cloth aside and kissed her again. "It's not the end of the world, and things will be okay. He needs time, and that's fair."
Then he made a show of checking his watch. "And speaking of time, I'm only going to give you five more minutes to beat yourself up."
The tenderness in his voice helped lift her sadness. "Hm, five minutes." Lightly she rested her cheek in one hand, pretending to ponder. "How can I milk this for all it's worth in the next five minutes?"
Richard pulled her into his arms. "I know a way. Here, let me show you."
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