At ten after six, Jim was standing at a window that looked up the drive wondering what was keeping Bobby. Nathan was in the kitchen cooking. Jim's mind wandered to how often that was happening these days, and how Nathan seemed to only go back to his place to change clothes and to see his patients in his little office. That little room off the living room that Jim hadn't decided what to do with would make a perfect new office for Nathan.
He'd have to find a perfect time to broach the subject of Nathan moving in with him - and Bobby. He wondered what Bobby would think about living with Nathan. He didn't think there would be any problem since Nathan was always there anyway.
At that moment, a little silver Honda Civic pulled up in the driveway. Jim watched Bobby get out and walk around to the driver's side where a tall slender blonde young man got out and leaned against the car. Bobby had his hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked on his heels while talking to his friend.
The blonde boy suddenly kissed Bobby on his cheek, got back into his car and quickly backed out of the driveway, leaving Bobby to watch with his hands still stuffed in his pockets.
Feeling like a voyeur, Jim turned away from the window and headed into the kitchen. A few moments later Bobby walked in and dropped his books on the kitchen table. Jim busied himself washing a couple of utensils that Nathan had used and put into the sink. He glanced at his young ward who was absentmindedly staring out the window.
Nathan turned away from the stove to give Bobby a hug. "So, how was your day, Bobby?"
Jim watched Bobby smile as he hugged Nathan and moved to sit at the table. Jim thought his smile looked forced.
"I met a really cool girl. She's from Houston, Texas. You should hear her accent."
"So, you've already found a girlfriend?" Nathan asked. He had turned back to the stove.
Jim watched Bobby's smile fade as he turned to stare out the window again. "Don't know," Bobby answered.
Jim wanted to ask him about the boy who'd brought him home, but realized that Bobby would know he'd seen the boy kiss him. Instead, he asked, "So, she brought you home?"
Jim wasn't looking at him as he asked, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Bobby look at him sharply. "Her friend from next door brought me home. He's in our class, too."
Jim just bucked his head.
"These two new friends have names?" Nathan asked.
"Fred and Sandi. They're close friends."
"Boyfriend girlfriend close?"
"No, Fred's gay."
Bobby noticed that Jim kind of nodded to himself and wondered what was going on in his mind.
The consummate psychologist, Nathan asked, "How do you feel about that?"
"Doesn't bother me. Why should it? I've hustled the streets in Hollywood... and now live with my gay cousin... heck, even my shrink's gay."
Nathan was dishing up the chicken he'd sautéed and almost dropped the platter. He turned to glance at Bobby and muttered, "Smart ass."
Bobby giggled. "That's not a very professional response, Doc."
Nathan set the platter on the table, then grabbed Bobby in a headlock and gave him a noogy. "How's that for professional?"
Bobby yelped and pulled free with a big grin while rubbing his abused scalp.
"Would you remove your books and set the table right quick? Dinner is ready."
From the fridge, Jim pulled a bowl of coleslaw he'd made earlier while Nathan dished up the mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans. Once they were seated, Nathan said a quick blessing and they dug in.
With his mouth full, Bobby moaned, "Mmmm, comfort food."
"You like, huh?"
"Yeah, it's almost like Maria used to fix when I still lived..." Bobby's expression of ecstasy faded as he dropped his fork on his still full plate and vacantly stared out the window.
Jim was immediately on his knees next to him, pulling him into a hug. Nathan rubbed his back, muttering under his breath.
Eventually, Bobby pulled away and Jim sat back onto his chair.
"Does it ever go away?" Bobby asked. The pain in his voice tore at both men.
Before Nathan could say anything, Jim answered, "No, but you learn to live with it, and not let it affect your life."
Bobby picked up his fork and listlessly stirred his mashed potatoes. "I wonder if he knows, or even cares, about the damage he's done."
Nathan laid down his fork, wiped his mouth, folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate. He stood and rubbed Bobby shoulders. "Jim, you're going to have to excuse us. Bobby and I need to talk."
Jim studied the man he'd come to love, then looked at his young ward and nodded. "I'll take care of this, you guys go talk."
Nathan half lifted Bobby from his chair as he stood, then led him into the living room. With a box of foil in his hand, Jim stared at the three untouched plates of food and cursed his uncle. Sighing, he wrapped the three plates, put the rest of the food into containers and placed it all in the fridge. He stared out the window over the sink into the failing light while he automatically washed and rinsed the bowls, pots and pans, placing them into the dish drainer to dry.
Jim thought, 'No, you never get completely over it; you just learn to get through each day without letting it overwhelm you. Some days it's easier... you almost forget and feel normal, but most days, it's like a dark cloud looming on the horizon of your conscience.'
He sighed again as he drained the sink and rinsed it out before picking up a dishtowel and drying the things he'd washed. When he'd finished wiping down the kitchen, he made himself a cup of tea, sat at the table and stared out into the night.
His reverie was broken by Bobby coming in to retrieve his school books.
"Would you like me to heat up your dinner?" Jim asked, noting Bobby's swollen red eyes.
"Maybe later. Right now I want to get my studies done."
"Where's Nathe?"
"He went home."
Jim nodded and watched Bobby leave. 'This is his home. I've got to ask him to move in with me.'
He stood and stretched, then headed to Nathan's. The light was on in Nathan's office. The front door was unlocked, so he let himself in and headed through the living room and down the hall to the office. He stopped at the open door and lightly knocked.
Nathan raised his head from his folded arms resting on his desk. "What?" he asked.
For a moment, Jim felt like saying, "Nothing," and leaving. Instead, he walked in and placed his hands on Nathan's shoulders and massaged his tense muscles.
After a bit, Nathan began to relax and laid his head back against Jim's abdomen. "Damn, I'd love to get my hands on that bloody father of his. I swear to God, I'd rip his damned genitals from his body with my bare hands. How the son of a bitch can stand to live is beyond me."
Jim kissed the top of his head and just continued to massage his shoulders. "I love you, Babe," he whispered.
Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Cheerios when Jim stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. Jim wasn't aware of him until the clink of his spoon against his bowl woke his awareness and he turned around to greet the teen with a silent hug.
"That's one thing I like about living here."
"What?"
"The hugs, and just knowing that you guys love me."
"We do, you know."
Bobby nodded with a smile. "I know."
Jim turned back and watched the coffeemaker. There was nothing to see except the dribble of brown liquid into the glass pot.
"It makes it better... knowing."
Jim bobbed his head. He wasn't awake enough to get into a meaningful conversation. But that didn't stop Bobby from continuing.
"It's a good feeling, loving someone and having them love you back. I used to love my dad, but I don't think he ever loved me. I was just a handy hole to him."
Jim cringed. This was bringing up emotions that he wanted to suppress, yet, he couldn't just tell Bobby to shut up. Instead, he pulled the boy out of his chair and wrapped his arms around him. "He'll never use us again, Bobby. Never... ever... again."
The coffeemaker beeped, signaling that it was finished. Jim let go of the boy and filled two mugs with coffee. Bobby put his dishes in the sink and started rinsing them.
"If you'll give me a few minutes, I'll get you a lunch," Jim said as he headed for the door.
"Thanks, Jim. All my friends are envious of my lunches. Joe said he wants you to be his mom."
Jim sputtered and headed for the stairs. Bobby chuckled to himself.
As school life fell into a routine, Bobby found a popularity that he suspected couldn't happen anywhere except at this school. One morning he sat in Math class being bored by the lesson. He turned his mind to that first afternoon he'd gone home with Sandi and Fred.
He hadn't known what to expect, plus he was very confused by the signals his two new friends were giving him. He constantly had the feeling that they were both putting the make on him - not each - but both together. After an hour of this disconcerting flirting, Bobby broke down, and after getting them to promise that what he told them would stay between the three of them, he told them about living with his father, running away and ending up living with his cousin Jim. He didn't tell them of his hustling on the streets of Hollywood, or of ending up in juvenile detention. Of these, he was more ashamed than what his father had done to him.
Things changed after that. Sandi's attitude changed almost visibly, from carefree, to caring and solicitous. She continued to flirt with him, but stopped throwing his attraction to Fred in his face. Fred, still shy, began to treat Bobby as a friend, instead of a possible boyfriend.
Fred loaned Bobby a pair of surfer trunks and they spent an hour playing in the pool that nestled in a corner of Sandi's expansive back yard. Bobby pulled himself up on the edge of the pool to sit and watch his two new friends cavorting. Their carefree loving playfulness tugged at him. They were more like brother and sister than best friends.
At five thirty, after they rinsed off under the poolside shower, the two boys said goodbye to Sandi and went next door to Fred's to dress. Bobby found it amusing that once alone with him; Fred lost his 'reticence.' He'd stripped of his swimsuit right in front of Bobby and took his time finding clean boxers to slip into before putting his pants on. Bobby noted that Fred covertly glanced at him to see if he was looking, which of course he was, and that seemed to please his lithe blonde friend.
As Fred slipped a T-shirt over his head, he asked, "How old were you when you ran away from your dad?"
Bobby studied him for a moment, not wanting to think about those days, but Fred was waiting for an answer and Bobby didn't want to put him off. "Fourteen."
"Where did you go? How did you manage to survive?"
"Promise you won't tell Sandi?"
"She'll figure out herself that there was a period of time between your running away and your moving in with your cousin."
Bobby knelt to tie his Addidas. "She's a smart girl," he agreed.
He stood and faced Fred, who shook his head. "I don't think I could have survived that young."
"Sure you could. You just do what you have to do."
"You didn't answer my questions."
Bobby grinned with a hiked eyebrow. "I didn't hear any promise to keep your mouth shut."
Fred smiled back and then turned serious. "Bob, I gained a new respect for you this afternoon. I promise I won't ever do anything to hurt you. I promise I won't say a word to Sandi."
"Well," Bobby sighed, "I guess your respect is about to hit the dust. I lived on the streets in downtown Hollywood. I hustled."
Fred stared at him for several seconds before collapsing to sit on his bed. He looked up at Bobby and said, "You're so brave."
"Yeah, brave... right. Hey, look, I don't want to be late. I told Jim six. Can you give me a lift home?"
"Sandi will be pissed."
"I'll call her and explain. She'll be okay."
"Smooth talker," Fred smirked as he grabbed up his keys and headed for the garage.
There were four car stalls. Fred's little Honda Civic was parked next to a long sleek Jag sports car.
"Wow, that's a beaut."
Fred glanced at it as he got into the Honda. "Mom calls it my dad's penis extension."
Bobby thought about it for a moment, then said, "Oookay."
When they turned onto Lake Street and headed through Pasadena, Fred asked, "So, what does hustling entail?"
Bobby stared at him as Fred kept his eyes on his driving. "Surely, you're not so naïve that you don't know what a hustler does."
"So, you went from letting your old man have your ass for free, to selling it to sleaze bags on the street?"
"I never let my father have my ass. He forcefully took it. He raped me nearly every day from when I was eight until I ran away at fourteen. And no one has touched it since."
Fred's countenance sobered. "I'm sorry, Bob. That was a shitty thing for me to say. Please, forgive me."
Bobby sighed as he stared out the side window. "That's alright. It's probably what most people would think."
"That doesn't make it right."
They rode in silence the last few blocks. Bobby just pointed at the driveway and Fred pulled his car up behind the two already parked there. Bobby got out and headed around to the driver's side to thank Fred. Fred got out of the car when he saw that Bobby was coming around to his side, closed his door and leaned against it. Bobby walked up to him with the intent of offering to shake his hand. Fred asked, "Are you going to be okay?"
Bobby stared at him a moment, shoved his hands into his pockets, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"I apologize again for being so unthinking in what I said."
"Don't worry it. It's okay."
"I've got to get back home."
Bobby nodded and rocked on his heels.
"Yeah. Thanks for the ride."
Fred impulsively kissed Bobby on his cheek and quickly got into his car. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said as he put the car in reverse.
Bobby watched him back out of the drive and disappear down the street before he turned towards the house.
Being already upset by his conversation with Fred, Nathan's question about how he felt about Fred being gay threw Bobby's mind into even more of a turmoil - although he tried to ignore it and joke with his answer. For a bit, he thought he was going to be okay, then he thought of Maria, who had been more of a loving mother to him in his childhood than Marti had ever been; and the overwhelming feeling of just ending it all swept over him again.
But the two men had again shown him that he was loved, and that they cared for him. That was enough to push the thought of surcease out of his head, and an hour and a half of talking with Nathan had gotten him back on track. He could tell, though, that he'd left Nathan in a foul mood because he left the house as soon as Bobby headed back into the kitchen. He felt bad about it, but at that point, he wanted to only bury his head in his homework and forget about everything else.
He'd succeeded in doing that until he was interrupted by Jim coming in with Nathan's arm wrapped fondly around his shoulders.
"We're hungry, Kiddo, are you ready for some warmed over comfort food?" Jim asked.
Bobby slammed his history book closed and grinned at the two men. "Yeah, I'm starving - now that you've mentioned food. Let's eat."