It was Sunday, and Jack was not feeling very religious at all.
Jack often wondered if there was a god after all. His mama had always believed - believed just as strongly in God as she had that her husband would eventually stop abusing their son. Sometimes the columnist reckoned that that was why he could never bring himself to go to church anymore. Other times when he was feeling less than sober he admitted it was because he always expected to see Jesus flying around the room when he prayed. But Jesus was never there, and when Jack had been little he had to see things to believe.
He'd never really grown out of that, never found himself able to trust in something unless he had proper evidence. There had been points when he had suspected, very briefly, that Bobby wasn't actually his, but when the kid turned those bright blue, perfectly innocent but obviously guilty eyes on him that had swiftly cured his worries. He hadn't trusted Christian at the start, preferring to think of the man as little more than an arrogant bastard who got away with too much, but when the Bostonian found him a job and then, when being employed by someone who wasn't his father-in-law got too stressful, gave him a holiday in the Caribbean, and then proceeded to expect nothing in return, Jack had revised his opinion substantially.
Now, did he believe that there was a chance for him and Ennis?... That tiny little question of Ennis's had been hopeful, but it wasn't proof. It was very close to being nothing, and Jack had a sneaking suspicion that if called out on it Ennis would claim it to be exactly that. But while he was thinking on what the mechanic had said, he recalled the little phrase that had very nearly broke his heart.
"Jack, no! This was a one shot thing!" That had cut straight to the bone. Even remembering it made Jack's stomach do unpleasant turns. He groaned and batted his eyes open to stare at the ceiling above his bed. He did his best thinking in bed with his eyes closed, without any distractions, especially in the early morning when he'd had the night to think stuff over. There never was one for making snap decisions like Jack Twist.
So, back to his original thought then - it was Sunday. And never mind the fact that Jack was currently practising atheism, it was much too cosy in his bed. It would have been cosier with someone else in it, but Jack knew when to cut his losses.
Cautiously he stuck a foot out from under the sheets. He withdrew it hurriedly, and snuggled deeper. Apparently his air-conditioner was being over-enthusiastic again, because it was freezing.
"Goddamn," he muttered, throat still scratchy from sleep. "Why don't you work half as well in the afternoons then?"
Now that he had questioned the air conditioner's aptitude at its job he was out of things to do. Well, there were two things, but one required getting up and the other wasn't going to happen because these were clean sheets.
Alternatively he could lie in bed and talk to someone on the phone, but he'd need someone to talk to. There was a list of four people - his mom, Lureen, Christian or Helena. He wasn't calling his
mother because that might end up in John Twist Snr. snatching the phone and screeching something along the lines of 'you're a filthy good-fer-nothin' faggot and I told yer to stop callin' this damn house' down the line, which Jack knew upset his mom. Of course it kind of upset him too but he didn't have to live with the sonovabitch anymore, so he cared less and less what the old man thought every day. Lureen was undoubtedly still in bed, and wouldn't be getting up for at least another hour, if Jack knew his ex-wife correctly. Christian was going to be seriously stressed about Meggie and heading off to church at the same time - Jack could never figure out why the man went but he supposed he had a name to live up to. And Helena was probably outside painting the sunrise or doing other impressively artistic things.
But calling people was going to sound needy, wasn't it? Exactly. So, therefore, even if there was someone to call, he wouldn't be calling them. Obviously.
His attempt to comfort himself failed miserably. He was alone and that seemed unlikely to change for a while. So, he better had make the most of the day and get up. There was TV to watch after all, and maybe a chance to spot that cute college kid that did the paper round.
Just as he was bracing himself to get up, the phone rang. He picked up the reciever.
"Jack?" It was Helena.
"Yeah?"
"Good, glad I got you. I've been dialling your cell phone for ages but you never picked up."
Jack absently looked around the bedroom, peering at the various places he'd normally set his phone down. "I dunno where it is. Probably left it in the car."
"Well, that's useful." The artist's tone was deeply acidic.
"What's wrong, hon?"
She sighed. "Ah, hell. Nothing's really wrong. Just feeling put out about dialling that goddamn number so many times. And my mother's invaded my house, and she's a nosy cow. So, what's up?"
"Nothin'..." Highly suspicious. Helena was making small talk. This was building up to a request for gossip or a favour, he could tell.
"No need to sound like that. Jeez, some people." There was a ceramic clatter on the other end of the line. "Damn. You'd think I'd know to make these vases easy to pick up one handed, wouldn't you? I mean I always seem to wait until I'm on the phone to freshen the flowers. Anyway, you doing anything interesting today?"
"Nope. Probably not."
"Darn, you are boring. Say, I'm not delaying you getting to church or anything, am I?"
"I ain't going to church. Couldn't be bothered."
"Good, good, good..." There was a sneaky pause. "I'm not interrupting anything else am I?"
This time Jack sighed. "No. Ain't interruptin' a damn thing."
"Pity. I'd thought you would have had a nice guy curled up beside you. Or making you breakfast. Or whatever."
"Hah. I wish." He couldn't stop the slight bitterness coming through into his voice.
"Oh, so you have a target?
"I have a fantasy. It ain't happenin', but I really wish it would."
"He's straight then?"
"No, he's just got closet issues."
"Ah, damn. Tough luck, babe." Another clatter and then a piercing nasal tone muttered something in the background. Helena snorted, and Jack heard a door close. "Sorry, that's my mother. I'm trying to avoid talking to her."
"And there was me thinkin' you loved me."
"I do J-" She was interrupted by a muffled screech. "Oh fuck, she's spotted the iguana. Gotta go!"
"See ya," Jack mumbled to the sound of the dial tone. "Nice of you to call."
There wasn't anything else to do at all, so Jack went for a walk.
It was warm but damp, the water from the recent rain still evaporating slowly. The result was mildly unpleasant, but Jack didn't care. He just needed to get out of his house or he thought he'd go mad.
He had found his way to the centre of the town and had ambled around the various buildings and parks for a while. The streets were empty, apart from one car which had nearly flattened Jack as he had crossed the road.
Near the Town Hall, the biggest park of all was dripping quietly in a damp green way. The columnist strode along the path, occasionally shaking his head to dislodge the water from his hair. He was absently watching the newly sprouted leaves above him when he heard someone jog up and fall into
step beside him.
"Hey."
He looked down and across and gasped. It was Ennis. A grin spread across his features. There was just something about the man that made him smile.
"Hey." Ennis repeated, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in confusion as Jack's smile continued to widen. "You goin' to church or somethin'?"
"Nah." Jack shook his head and stopped walking, surprised at himself for answering in a vaguely sensible way, crossing to the fence that surrounded a rather pathetic little pond. "You?" He swiftly formed a plan to keep Ennis around the place. Let's keep it simple, no big scary difficult questions. Keep it friendly and you're in with a chance to at least ogle him every time your truck breaks down.
"Had to drop Francie and Junior off at their Sunday School. Too late to get to my church now." Ennis remained in the middle of the path, scuffing his right boot along the ground. "I just wanna say thanks for helpin' with Francie yesterday. She really took a shine to you."
"Hmm. No problem. Glad to hear she's ok." Perfectly neutral and calm, pretending that it really was nothing, that he only cared because it was a kid.
"Yeah, well..." More scuffing. "Just wondered if you'd, er... well... if you'd wanna come over tonight. For a drink, I mean." Ennis added hastily. "Y'know, to say thanks."
Jack's barely interested shrug was well practised, but it was undermined somewhat by the massive grin on his face. "Sure. Sounds all right."
The mechanic switched his scuffing foot. "Right. Er... I'm number 5 on Frank Street. See ya bout seven, ok?" He looked up for a second and then strode off. Jack was left watching him go, but laughing in joy inwardly all the same.
Ennis had to resist the urge to run from the columnist's piercing gaze. He wasn't entirely sure what had just come over him. Why the hell had he just invited Jack over? He was trying to get the man out of his head, and this was not going to help at all.
He had dropped the girls off and then driven home to find the Sunday paper sitting there, getting dripped on in kitchen. The only bit that had been readable had been, of course, the Columns section. Complete with full page photo. And after that Ennis couldn't focus on anything but those goddamn blue eyes, and that had been the end of his relaxing Sunday. This meant he had a choice of fidgeting round the house, getting more and more frustrated with everything, or getting out and going for a drive or a walk or something.
He had planned just for a quick jog around the neighbourhood, but something made him grab his car keys instead. Turned out it was the best choice he would make for a while, because, whilst driving down an almost abandoned street he was forced to swerve to avoid someone who had obviously not paid attention to any road safety lectures he had been given. Jack.
Ennis was going to drive on, was going to leave it be. His hands turned the steering wheel in the opposite direction to where the loudest part of his brain was telling them to go, and the car was parked, switched off and vacated. Now his feet joined the conspiracy, trotting at a faster pace than normal to catch up to the man in front of him.
Jack was watching the trees or something and hadn't noticed him.
"Hey."
And now those gorgeous eyes were on Ennis's face and those perfect wide lips were forming a deliriously happy grin. The mechanic swiftly lost control of his temperamental tongue. He repeated himself. "Hey."
The thought struck him that Jack was wandering alone through this park on a Sunday morning, when most people would be heading off to their services. And now that smile was worryingly large, and Ennis kept losing his train of thought, and... and Jack was walking away from him. Just to the fence, not that far away, but still... His tone was barely interested. Ennis suddenly felt very embarrassed and very lost, not knowing how to guide this conversation. His foot started to twitch across the sandy path of its own accord.
And then... "Just wondered if you'd, er... well... if you'd wanna come over tonight." What?! He didn't mean to say that! How the hell had that happened? But it was too late to take back now, so a little clarification was needed. "For a drink, I mean. Y'know, to say thanks."
If Jack said no, Ennis thought he'd probably die right there on the spot. But the grin that was re-forming across Jack's face gave away the answer. The mechanic only managed to blurt out his address and the time, look up to meet those wonderful sapphire eyes and then desperately scuttle off, trying to do so with as much dignity as possible.
He just reached his car when the full force of what had just happened hit him. Oh, god... Was he screwed. It was going to be the incident in the garage all over again, wasn't it? Well, actually... It needn't be. Ennis knew that forming a steady obvious relationship with Jack was a big no-go area, but maybe a little secretive one? Would that be so hard? He knew the guy had issues with people using him, that much had been apparent, but if they could strike up a friendship then maybe it wouldn't be seen as using.
And he was so desperate for just another minute of being near that man, he almost believed it.
