"I was afraid a' this. I was afraid a' what it means and what…shit, I don't know what I'm tryin' ta say!" Ennis' voice had gotten loud. Jack remained frozen in place, the sun beating down on him, creating little drops of perspiration that rolled down his back. He was silent as Ennis continued.
"I don't know anythin'! I jest know I'm afraid…for you! Of losin' you. I'm afraid because I think…damnit, Jack…I think I love you."
Jack felt his stomach drop out of his body and the blood rush to his face. He suddenly felt hot all over (something he couldn't blame on the sun), a burning, tingling sort of heat that made his whole body flush.
"I didn't want ta tell ya," Ennis voice sounded tight. "I thought I could jest keep it ta myself fer as long as it took, thought that keepin' that part silent might be able ta slow things down, keep anythin' bad from happenin', but…well, turns out that wasn't workin'." He took a deep breath.
"I read the book too, Jack. I read it prob'bly a hundred times, or more. I lost count. So what kinda person would I be ta follow in the foot steps a' that fictional character, knowing what I know happens in the end, and knowing what could a' been?"
Jack heard Ennis laugh slightly and then time moved forward and Ennis was standing behind him, arms wrapped around his chest, breath warm on his neck and ear.
"This is real. This ain't no story. What d'ya say we take a chance writin' our own version, huh?"
Jack sat on the edge of the guest room bed staring at the cream colored carpet and fiddling with his thumbs; they danced together, intertwining and stroking, until they didn't feel like his own hands, till the touch of one tickled the skin of the other. He sat there annoyed by the rising sun—the light streaming through the blinds of the window at his back, the sheer lace curtains useless to block the heat—but not enough to move.
He sat in his hot, sweaty shirt and jeans from the night before, still dusty from walking miles on a dirt road, but not disheveled, since Jack hadn't actually laid down, simply sat on the edge of the bed when he'd come in the room. He hadn't even taken off his boots.
His ass was numb from sitting completely still for seven hours and his head and throat hurt, tight and painful from refusing to cry. He wasn't going to cry, he was stronger than that.
"Really?"
Yes. He had to be, and that was that. He went back to thinking about nothing, to staring at the light green decorative pillows ("Sea foam" was the color Lureen had called it) that were tossed on the floor and out of the way. Jack had been sleeping in the "green" guest room since he'd arrived on Tuesday morning and he had yet to discuss it with Lureen (or she had yet to mention it). He hadn't seen her apart from his visits at the hospital (she was busy with business as usual), hadn't really spoken with her since their last talk. They'd been cordial to each other, certainly, and they'd acknowledged each other's presence, but since Lureen had told him how she felt about their relationship,
"…the 'poor wokin' woman' tryin' ta keep her family together and tryin' ta get her husband ta show interest in somethin', tryin' not ta be the bitch, but always endin' up that way because I get so damned frustrated with the way yer never around, and the way you've never cared about our lives or tryin' ta make them better."
It had opened a can of worms that neither one had felt like dealing with, but couldn't quite ignore. Jack knew there were lots of things to work out and he didn't know if he could, but he was going to give it his best shot. He was here to be the family man now, to be there when he'd never been before, to show that he could do something right for someone.
"And sacrifice your happiness?"
Jack clenched his fists and felt his throat tighten a little more. Sacrifice his happiness… Maybe he just hadn't given his family enough of a chance to make him happy. Maybe he'd been so caught up in unhappiness that he'd never allowed them to be the source of his joy. Eliza certainly was, so what had gone wrong with his wife and son? He shook his head. He owed this to them, it wasn't just about him. For the first time in Jack's life, he realized how selfish he'd always been, and he didn't want to be that way anymore. He wasn't alone; he had other people that relied on him to a certain extent, and he couldn't let them down.
"But Ennis…"
Jack swallowed, held back the tears for the hundredth time that morning and took a deep breath. Ennis. He was something else, all right. Jack closed his eyes and let his mind return to nights on Brokeback; under the stars, soft grass beneath his naked skin, warm hands running up and down his chest, hot breath on his neck, wet kissed on his inner thigh, his abdomen, his dick, soft, barely audible whispers of love, louder moans of passion.
A part of him cried out, "No! No! You made a mistake! How can ya give up the only thing that's made you totally complete? Are you crazy?" That part of him wanted to kick his own ass, to yell and scream and punch the walls and call Ennis back and tell him he was sorry, he wasn't thinking straight, he didn't mean those things, he loves him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… That part said that Jack Twist would never give up on Ennis, never quit him for such a sorry ass reason.
But who was that Jack Twist? Was that the real Jack Twist, or was that Annie Proulx's Brokeback Jack? It was hard to tell the difference sometimes, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that they weren't the same person, at least not anymore. Maybe there had been a time, a time long before thirty-four years of marriage and working in a dead end job, before the years had turned his temples gray and made him a little tired, before he woke up every morning with a stiff back and sore knees from all the years in the rodeo. Maybe once before all that he'd been the same Jack, full of hope and ambition, and energy, a mind like a whip with a tongue to match. But those days were past, and now, he was different; he could feel guilt and the weight of long ignored responsibility…
"But can you really walk away from love?"
Jack stood, legs feeling dull and misused, ass tingling, and walked over to the mirror that hung above a small chest of wooden drawers. He looked at his reflection, his blue eyes piercing and alert, but the skin below dark and nearly bruised. His jaw and cheeks thick with salt and pepper stubble.
"Do you love Ennis Del Mar?" His voice was rough and strangled, barely more than a growl.
He frowned, looked into the mirror, waiting for the answer as though his reflection would simply smile and lay it out like it was all so simple.
Did he love him or did he love the idea of him, the excitement, the forbidden fruit? It was a tough question, and one that he would of laughed at only a few days before. That Jack Twist (the same one that yelled and screamed and bit and kicked) would say, "Course you love Ennis. You fell in love with him that first time he sat down next to ya and shone his big brown eyes down on ya." And for the most part that was true. But…was it really?
Had Jack only felt that soft feeling inside because of the book, was that the only thing that had planted the desire and need to be loved by a man in his head? Ennis himself had only shown sexual interest after reading the story, so what did that say?
That one part of Jack howled in agony, not wanting to believe any of this, wanting to get him to stop his over analyzing, stop thinking so much and just follow his desires. But Ennis aside, it came back to his family. And his family he couldn't betray any longer, Ennis or no.
"There has to be a way ta have 'em both, there has ta be."
Jack stepped back from the mirror, his head throbbing even harder, and looked down at the neat bed, it's green floral comforter untouched except for one small indentation where Jack had sat through the night. He smoothed the bedspread, pulled it straight and then admired his handy work. It was almost as though he'd never been there. He left the room to take a shower.
As Jack finished getting dressed he heard noises coming from the kitchen, some clanging of pots and water running. He quickly finished buttoning his shirt and fastened his belt, then walked out of the master bedroom, and wasn't very surprised to see Lureen was home and attacking the huge pile of dishes. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she wore a pair of jeans that were too big for her and her lacey purple bra.
He took a few steps into the kitchen, the water still loud enough to mask his footfalls, and glanced at the wall clock: 8:48. Had she just gotten home? Suddenly she turned off the faucet, and turned around.
"Oh my God!" She jumped and instinctively covered her chest, but then saw who it was and let her guard down slightly, kept her right hand over her heart. "Jack, you scared the shit out a' me. I didn't think you were home, didn't see yer truck."
Jack stood still, hands in his pockets. "My truck broke down by the side a' the road last night. Had ta walk home."
Lureen finally seemed to ease completely and turned back to put the last few dishes in the dishwasher. "D'ya need ta call and get that fixed? Get a tow truck out there?"
Jack walked closer to his wife. "I can do that later." He rested his hand on her shoulder, the feel of her skin soft and smooth under his rougher fingers. Lureen stopped what she was doing and tensed.
"Jack?" Her voice was soft and hesitant, unsure of what was going on. Jack rubbed her shoulder.
"Lureen, we need ta talk, actually talk, and not fight."
She put her head down and her platinum blonde ponytail bobbed slightly. Slowly she turned and Jack put his hand in his pocket.
"All right. Let's talk."
Jack nodded and looked down at his bare feet, trying to gain strength, and noticed Lureen was also barefoot and had her toes painted bright red. He looked back up, knew what he had to say should be said directly to her so she'd know he was sincere.
" I know we've had some hard times lately."
"Lately?"
"Well in the past few years." Lureen crossed her arms over her chest, but her face remained open, she didn't frown, just listened.
"Anyway, I know it's been hard. And I know I haven't been there fer ya and fer Bobby, and maybe I never was, but that didn't mean I didn't want to be. I always wanted to be, just didn't know how, or didn't feel like I was wanted."
Lureen's face remained calm, but Jack could see in her eyes that what he was saying had some affect, because they started to glisten and it seemed like there was some wetness gathering at the corners of her mascara'd eyelashes. He took in a deep breath.
"What I'm tryin' ta say is, I'm willin' to make this work. I'm willin' to try and start over and ta do my best, even though it's awful late in the game. But now I'm gonna try."
He waited. She didn't move. Her breathing came in slow even ins and outs, her breasts pressed up from her crossed arms, the curve of them still soft and ample. He had a hard time reading her face.
"Well?" He asked, a little put off that she hadn't responded yet.
Lureen looked down and shook her head. He heard her sniffle a little and then she met his gaze, any tears under control once again.
"Jack, a year or two ago I probably would've said yes, hell maybe even a few months ago."
"Okay…" He frowned, unsure of where she was going with this.
She waited, looked him in the eye and pressed her lips together. He stood still, silent.
She let out a sigh. "But not now."
Jack felt something inside slip away, couldn't tell if it was a good or bad feeling. "Oh."
She looked away, towards the oak cabinets, swallowed hard. "I've been meanin'
ta tell you this fer a while now. I've had my mind made up fer a couple weeks, but I jest didn't know how ta say what I needed to say."
She turned her gaze back to Jack. "I want a divorce."
Jack sucked in a breath. This he hadn't really expected. It's not as though they'd been happy the last hell, twenty years or so, but the mention of divorce had never been spoken. Their marriage had just been something to live with, whether they both thought about separating or not. He suddenly felt very small, very strange, since things were not working the way he thought they would.
He played with the brass studs on his jeans pockets and licked his lips. "So why now? What's so different that you wanna get a divorce now instead a' ten years ago?"
Lureen's face suddenly turned hard and he could tell the question made her uncomfortable by the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, kept looking at things around the kitchen. "Jack, there's so many reasons. I'd be listin' all day long."
Jack felt annoyance start to set in. "All right, well list then. I wanna hear the reasons before I just go agreein' and signin' papers." He crossed his arms, mimicking her pose on a larger scale.
She pursed her lips. "I told you the other day what our problem is."
Jack nodded. "Okay, well what else then, you said you had a whole list." He couldn't keep the snide, challenging tone out of his voice.
"Jack, don't be an asshole."
He threw his hands up in the air. "Well I'm sorry, Lureen. But here I come, after much struggle on my part, to offer ta try and fix our marriage and then I get told that you want a divorce and that I've fucked up so much you could write a novel! Excuse me fer bein' the slightest bit pissy."
"So it took so much struggle fer you to want ta try and make things work, huh?"
Jack clamped his mouth shut, trying to watch what he said. "Don't play that game with me, Lureen. I wanna know what's goin' on."
Lureen got silent and her eyes went soft again, the anger draining away. Her mouth quivered the slightest bit and she looked up at Jack. "It's not jest you."
"What?" His voice was still loud and accusatory, still in defense mode.
"You're not the only one ta blame. I didn't mean I could list yer fuck ups. I meant…"
"What did you mean?" He was interested now.
"There are so many different reasons."
He nodded. "Okay, but we've always had our problems, we've been unhappy fer a long time, so why now? That's all I wanna know."
Lureen was quiet for a long time, Jack thought she wouldn't answer, but then she walked around him to the breakfast table and sat down. Jack followed her with his eyes, made no move to sit with her.
"I've met someone."
Jack's did a mental double take. Had he heard her right?
"You met someone? Someone you're interested in?"
Lureen folded her hands on the table and stared down at them. "His name's Michael."
Jack suddenly felt like the breath had been knocked out of his chest and he and sat down across from her, not because he really wanted to, but because he would've fallen over if he hadn't.
"How long you been seein' him?"
Lureen looked up. "About three months."
Jack's eyes widened. "Three months?" Jack thought for a moment. Three months ago it was May, which meant he hadn't read Brokeback Mountain, didn't know who Ennis was, hadn't started his own affair. He rested his face in his hand and shook his head, a sick taste developing in his mouth.
"How'd you meet him?"
"He's the vice president of the McGuire Tractor Company. I met him at the first meetin' we had to try and buy out the company." Her answers were perfunctory, all business.
"Wasn't Bobby there?"
"No, he couldn't make it that time, was sick with the flu, remember?"
Jack did remember, he remembered clearly because Marla had dropped Eliza off with him because she didn't want her to catch what Bobby had. That was why Jack hadn't gone to the meeting either.
"So that's when you started fuckin' this guy, huh?" For some reason he felt anger build up within him, even though he knew he had no right. It was something to do with the fact that he'd been getting the one up even before he'd ever heard of Ennis Del Mar.
Lureen's eyes started glistening again, and she shook her head, her ponytail whipping around her. "No. I met him, yes, and I liked him, and I know he liked me too. We had a drink and he wanted me ta come back to his place, but I said no, even though I desperately wanted to." She sniffed and one tear slid down her cheek, she made no move to wipe it away though.
"I spent the next couple months spendin' time with him and goin' to dinner with him when he was in town, but never anything else. Not until you left me at the Barbeque, not until I knew what we'd had, or what I'd thought we'd had all those years was worth nothin', that was when I went with him back to his hotel room."
She wiped under her eyes with one manicured hand and straightened herself, cleared her throat—tough, business-minded Lureen. "And the thing is, I'm not really sorry." She laughed. Jack was silent.
She rolled her head back and looked up at the ceiling. "And I know that sounds harsh, but honestly I don't mean it in a bitchy way. It's just…"
She turned her gaze to Jack, a genuine smile on her face. "I'm happy with Michael. He's been my rock through this whole ordeal with Eliza. He came to stay at the Best Western fer a while to help me out. I've been stayin' over there with him and comin' back here when I need to." She paused, carefully wiped some more wetness from beneath her eyes.
"Anyway, what we had we lost long ago, and we've just been hangin' on because it's easier than gettin' divorced. You know that, as well as I do. Hell, when was the last time we had sex?"
Jack couldn't move. He shrugged. "I don't know."
"Six months ago. Can you believe that? And before that it'd been almost a year. That's not normal! It's not."
Her eyes returned to her hands, seemed to find them real interesting. "I'm sorry to have to tell you all this right now, but I keep promisin' Michael I'm gonna talk to ya, and well, now I have."
Jack remained silent. He felt a little sick to his stomach.
"Jack?"
He stood up quickly. He had to get out of there to think. Lureen sat up in her chair, a little shocked.
"You okay?"
He looked down at her. "You expect me ta be okay after all that?"
She stood. "It's been comin' down to this fer years, Jack."
Jack felt a stinging pang in his chest. He walked to the garage door.
"Where are you goin'? You don't have a car."
"I'm takin' yers."
"What?" Lureen stood and followed Jack to the utility room. "Jack, how will I get to work?"
"Ask Bobby ta drive you. I'm goin' out; I have ta think."
He opened the door and stepped out into the garage, getting to the black SUV in two long strides. He stopped momentarily before he hopped in the front seat to look at Lureen, her blond hair pulled back, her purple bra suspended above her still flat stomach. He saw her then as the woman he'd first met, not cold and business minded, but sassy and full of life and full of the vulnerability that she'd had before age and unhappiness hardened her.
He got in the Suburban and slammed the door, then started the engine and backed out of the garage.
Jack drove aimlessly for several hours, left Childress all together. He took I-287 nearly all the way to Vernon before around. The road was busy on a Friday morning, so it took him twice as long to travel the thirty or so miles. He watched the shiny new cars in the summer heat stop and go, stop and go beside him, listened to the pounding bass beats that blared out of some sports cars, noticed others (business people most likely) talking into their cell phones. Jack sat and watched.
Lureen had been cheating on him. She'd been staying out later, not coming home… what had he thought was happening?
"This whole time it's been blarin' in yer face. Where the hell were you?"
Jack shook his head and jumped when a car to his right honked furiously. It had been obvious, sure, but at the same time Jack had been busy with his own problems.
"And your own affair, remember?"
Yes. He'd had an affair too. He'd betrayed Lureen just as she'd betrayed him. But…
"She's been seein' this guy since May! Way before all a' this happened with Ennis."
True, but at the same time, she hadn't actually started sleeping with him till Jack had left for Brokeback Mountain, which meant that technically they were even. And Jack had no excuse for sleeping with Ennis, it's not like he'd known Lureen was cheating and that had driven him to another man. But still…it hurt, and he couldn't exactly put his finger on why.
Jack searched the seat next to him for his cigarette case, then realized he was in the SUV and slumped back in the seat, defeated. He'd left his cigarettes in his truck, shit on a brick. He sighed, rolled the windows down a little farther and let the hot August air infiltrate the inside of the car.
What was he going to do now? He'd felt like he'd had a hold of something, like things were beginning to come together, to make sense, and now…this. Lureen with another man, which he really shouldn't have had a problem with, and he didn't, but there was still no denying that he felt like he'd been punched in the face.
"Guess there's really no way ta handle betrayal. No matter how fucked a relationship is, it's still a blow ta find out yer wife's cheatin' on you."
Finally Jack hit Highway 83 and he was back in Childress, but he still wasn't satisfied. He drove around the town, drove the back roads, passed his broken down truck and gave it a good old flick of the bird, and eventually found himself in the parking lot of the Rusty Mug, the bar he'd been at the night before. He'd considered going to the hospital for a visit with Eliza, but didn't think he was in the right mindset for that. So he figured it wasn't too early to start drinking even though it was barely passed noon.
"Fuck it. You deserve to get drunk, really."
And he thought he did, if ever there was an excuse. So he hopped out of the car (he felt bad about taking Lureen's SUV, but it had been his only way out of the situation and he knew she wouldn't have any trouble getting to work with Bobby), checked his back pocket for his wallet and walked into the dark bar to drink away all his troubles.
The Rusty Mug was just as dark as it had been the night before, but in a different way, in that middle of the day, blinds blocking the sunlight sort of way that tinted the whole place with browns and grays instead of blues and blacks. There were only two or three other people inside, not that many daytime drinkers surprisingly, and the bar itself was abandoned, so Jack sat himself down on the far end closest to the doors. He motioned to pull his hat down over his eyes, but realized that he hadn't grabbed it, then noticed that he'd tossed on a pair of old house loafers instead of his boots.
"Well, shit."
He felt somewhat naked without his reliable black hat and boots, and thought about leaving when someone walked up next to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Hey there, Cowboy. Been a long time."
Jack turned at the familiar voice and saw the waitress from the night before, one hand on her hip, one thin eyebrow arched. He smirked when he saw her.
"Yeah, seems like it."
"You must be on a mission, comin' in last night, now again this mornin'. You here ta see me?"
Jack smiled at the playful way her voice lilted and sang. He turned a little in his stool to face her.
"No one else here I'd rather see, so guess so." He watched her smile and lick her lips.
"Can I get ya somethin' ta drink?"
"How about some whiskey?"
She gave Jack a quirked smile. "You mean business then. All right, comin' right up."
He watched her walk behind the bar and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels. He noticed the bartender, Joe was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, ah, Teeny was it?"
"Sure was, honey." She slid a glass down to where Jack sat and then leaned over the bar to best accentuate her cleavage.
"Where's Joe? He don't work in the mornin's?"
Teeny shook her head. "Nope, and I'm not s'posed to neither, but I'm fillin' in fer Carla till she can get a babysitter for her sick kid. She said she'd take my shift tonight, so I got the mornin' one."
Jack nodded, took a sip of the whiskey and grimaced at the strong flavor and burn as it went down his throat and hit his empty stomach.
"Taste good there, Cowboy?"
Jack set the glass down. "Sure does." He looked Teeny in the eye, then took in her soft voluptuous lips and her large breasts, pressed together from the way she was leaning over the bar. He glanced back up and saw she was smirking because she'd noticed him admiring her.
He leaned forward on his stool and rested his elbows on the bar. "So what d'ya say, Teeny. Wanna take me up on that drink offer?"
She smiled and bent below the bar to grab another glass, filled it with some whiskey. "Sounds good to me, Jack."
"You remember."
"I always remember a handsome face." She chuckled seductively and Jack took another sip of the burning liquor.
A couple hours later and Jack was thoroughly drunk with Teeny close behind him. It didn't seem to matter that she got a little tipsy on the job, especially since there were only three other people in the place and they seemed to be doing okay.
"So tell me about yerself cowboy." She cooed before taking another sip of whiskey.
"Not much ta tell right now. Or maybe there's too much ta tell, I'm not sure."
"That sounds interestin'. You married?"
Jack chuckled, the whiskey making him feel light and carefree. "Not fer long."
Teeny looked Jack in the eye. "That's good enough fer me."
They talked a little while longer, between customers at the bar and at other booths, and all the while Jack drank and drank, feeling his worries slip away. Finally 4:00 hit, and the next shift of waitresses came in, including the infamous Carla and Joe. Jack wasn't sure how it had happened, but he'd spent four hours in the smoky bar talking with the waitress Teeny.
He got up to leave, feeling like he should have gone long before, but when he stood, the room spun around him and his legs felt wobbly. He sat back down hard on the stool and felt the blood rush to his head. And then that gentle touch was on his shoulder again.
"You all right? You gonna make it home?"
Jack looked over at Teeny and saw that she'd taken off her apron and had her purse. He blinked.
"Uh…" For some reason he couldn't get the words out of his mouth.
She smiled. "Tell you what, how 'bout you come on back with me?"
Jack shrugged. "Okay."
She helped him stand up and they headed out the bar and into the parking lot. The sun was a shock after the four hours of gloom, and Jack winced and shielded his eyes.
"Jesus Christ, it's bright."
She just chuckled and led him to a beat up Ford Taurus, opened the door for him to get in the passenger seat. He collapsed onto the beaded seat cover and stretched his legs out as far as he could under the dashboard. Teeny got in behind the wheel and turned on the car.
"I'm only about four miles away from here, got me a nice little apartment outside a' town."
Jack remained silent and tried to keep the sickness down as the car backed out of the parking lot and drove over the bumpy pot-holed road, tried to focus his mind and will his way out of the drunk. They weren't on the road very long though, after a few minutes (since there was never much traffic in Childress even during rush hour) they arrived at the Greenview Apartments, a fairly new looking complex with three building, two stories each and high, brown shingled roofs. Jack didn't realize Teeny had gotten out of the car and before he knew it she was opening his door, hoisting him out and onto his feet.
"There we go. You still okay?"
Jack nodded and let her lead him to the apartment. Luckily it was on the first floor, so he didn't have to climb any steps. He stopped just inside the door and Teeny walked ahead of him tossing her keys on a small wooden side table.
"Home sweet home."
Jack looked around. It was fairly small, consisted of an open area that was the living room and kitchen separated only by a bar, the hall that was next to the kitchen he assumed led to her bedroom and bathroom.
"It's not much, but I didn't get much in the divorce. Gil's lawyer said I wasn't entitled to much since we didn't have any kids and there was no prenuptial agreement. Anyway, this is what I got, and I like it."
Jack could tell she took care of the small amount of belongings she owned, kept the place clean, and decorated smartly with some flowers and candles. Jack nodded.
"Looks nice."
"Yeah." Teeny walked over to Jack and ran her hand down his side, then back into his jeans pocket. He looked down at her and suddenly she had her lips pressed to his and had forced her tongue into his mouth, running it over his lips and teeth. As if in a dream, Jack reached out and pulled her close to him, ran his hand up and down her back until he'd pulled her blouse out from her tight jeans and had his hand on her skin. Teeny dragged him to her couch by the pocket and then broke the kiss, pushed Jack down onto the cushion and stood over him, lust full in her eyes.
She sat on Jack's lap and ripped his shirt open, stripped it off his back. Her bosom swelled with her heavy breathing and she ran her hands through his chest hair, started nibbling and biting at his neck.
"You know I've wanted ta do this since I saw you sit down at that booth last night, all by yerself, so mysterious." She sat up and looked Jack in the eyes.
Jack looked back, looked into her light hazel eyes, at her curly red hair, her soft lips with their smeared gloss and her freckles that ran down her neck towards her cleavage. Suddenly he felt something in the pit of his stomach, something close to panic.
She brought her hand down to his waist and unbuckled his belt then started to unbutton his jeans. Jack froze up. His intoxicated mind told him to just go ahead, fuck her, fuck her and say fuck you to Lureen and goodbye to being queer and just start over. But his stomach wasn't having it. It felt like it had climbed up into his throat and he knew this was wrong, knew it wasn't supposed to feel like this.
Teeny wrapped her hand around Jack's hardening cock and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her dead.
"No."
Teeny looked up, bewildered expression on her face. "No?"
Jack shook his head and wiggled away, gently pushing Teeny off of him and stood up. He zipped his pants, let his belt hang open, then took in a deep breath and rubbed his face.
"What's wrong?" He heard her voice behind him, no longer brassy and full, but quiet and a little tight.
Jack turned around to face the woman, still feeling light headed and the room still slightly spinning. He sat down in the armchair that faced the couch, looked down at the loafers he'd put on before storming out the house.
He sighed. "Everythin's wrong."
She sat still as a china doll, face painted with confusion and smeared makeup. "I don't understand."
And Jack didn't either, but he was starting to. He may have been drunk off his ass, but suddenly things seemed clearer than they had since he'd left Wyoming on Monday. He chuckled to himself and looked back up at the woman.
"I'm gay."
Jack was silent waiting for her to start screaming at him and push him out of her apartment. But she didn't do either, just sat there, the mouth slightly open, eyes squinty and small.
"You're gay?" Her voice was still quiet, questioning.
Jack chuckled again. "Yeah I guess so."
"You guess so? Don't ya know?"
Jack was thoughtful for a second. "You know Teeny, I don't think I really understood it till this very moment."
She was silent, gazing down at the floor, seeming to run the carpet's patterns over and over in her head. She looked up a crooked smile on her face. "I'm not sure if I should be happy you've come ta terms with yerself, or upset that I was the one that made you realize this."
Jack laughed out loud, a boisterous drunk sound. Teeny smiled wider. "You sure it's not just the drink makin' you think this?"
Jack shook his head. "Naw. I'm pretty damn sure. Hell, I was pretty sure before this, I was just too confused to really admit it." He shook his head again in disbelief. "And you know what else is great?"
"I'm in love, that's what."
He let that echo through his mind. "I'm in love with Ennis Del mar." Book aside, everything aside, he was in love, and he couldn't deny that. He'd been mixed up before, but now it was all too clear. And it wasn't just the drink.
"What?"
Jack was jolted out of his thoughts, forgot he'd said anything else. "Nothin',"
They were both silent for a few minutes and then he looked back at Teeny. "Thank you."
She returned his gaze, eyes wide, and then tossed off his comment with the wave of her hand. "Oh Jesus. I didn't do nothin'. But I'll tell ya, this isn't quite what I expected out of this little rendezvous." She stood up, handed him his shirt.
"How 'bout I make you some coffee before I drop you off back at yer car. Maybe you'd like a little to eat, a sandwich?"
Jack smiled wide, his muscles still feeling a little loose and goofy from the drink. "Teeny, that would be amazin'. You ever been told what a sweetheart you are?"
"Oh, all the time. I'm known around the bar as the sweetest thing this side a' Ave. F." She winked and walked off into the kitchen, still wagging her hips as she went. Jack chuckled again to himself.
"She really don't give up."
He pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and smiled to himself as he leaned back in Teeny's arm chair.
Jack walked past the nurse's station on the children's floor of the Childress Regional Medical Center. He'd gotten the message on his cell phone just that morning (which he'd forgotten when he'd stormed out the day before) from Marla, saying that Eliza had been switched from Intensive Care because her fever had officially broken and would be able to go home in a week or so.
The day before, drunk and tired off his ass in the small, yet oddly comfortable surrounding of Teeny's apartment, Jack had dozed off a few minutes after she'd offered to make him some coffee and a sandwich. One minute he'd been fairly alert, admiring a nicely crocheted afghan that Teeny had sprawled over the back of the couch, and the next thing he knew he was being nudged by the woman herself and told that she had to get to work (another morning shift), and that she could drop him at his car on her way in. Jack had sat up, slowly and carefully, feeling the beginnings of a headache (not a terrible one surprisingly), and realizing that he'd slept all night in Teeny's arm chair, the afghan he'd found so attractive pulled up to his chin.
She'd graciously poured him a cup of coffee to go and then they'd hopped back in the beat up Taurus and driven to the old familiar Rusty Mug. Jack had thanked her again, gotten only a wink and a pinch on the cheek in return and then had ambled over to Lureen's SUV (which he still felt guilty about taking) and had driven home, showered, checked his messages on his phone, and headed over to the hospital.
The children's floor was much cheerier than the bleak white-walled ICU; the walls were painted bright green and blue and yellow, and there were framed posters of Disney characters and movies that he recognized like The Little Mermaid. The radio played oldies over the speakers in the main room and he could hear the sounds of some children laughing in the play area.
But despite the all around good feeling of the floor, Jack was feeling bleak and uptight. Lureen still weighed heavy on his mind. He was getting a divorce and he didn't know what that meant for his future. Go back to Ennis? He realized now that his feelings weren't just based on the book (at least he was actually gay), and that what he felt for Ennis was legitimate whether the book actually led him to that conclusion or no. So what now? He'd made promises of family commitment. Lureen was going to be out the picture, but that didn't mean he was off the hook. He had a son who was on the verge of possibly making amends with him, and a granddaughter that loved him and needed his support.
Jack's stomach gurgled, the queasiness and slight head ache not making him feel better about any of this. It had all seemed clear and concise when he was drunk—nothing to worry about, right? But now that he was suffering the after effects of too much whiskey, he didn't know what to think. He was tired of thinking really, and was looking forward to some quality time with Eliza to ease his mind.
"Jack! Over here!" Marla's voice called out from behind Jack. He stopped and turned, realizing that he'd passed the room he was looking for all together. He smiled when he saw her.
"Hey there, Sweetie. How ya doin'?"
She smiled when he walked up and kissed his cheek. "Pretty good. Where were you last night?"
Jack pulled the first excuse he could think of out of his ass. "Oh, I was out drinkin', fergot my damned phone. Sorry I didn't call back, it was late and I figured I'd jest drop by today and surprise you." Not totally a lie.
"Well I would've missed you. I was just about ta go back home and grab some pajamas for Eliza. She's been wearin' a hospital gown for the past week and she wants some a' her own clothes."
"I don't blame her. I'd get awful tired a' havin' to function with my ass hangin' out the back a' my gown."
Marla smirked and playfully hit Jack on the arm. "Your always jokin' around, Jack." She smiled up at him. "Don't even change, you hear?"
Jack did his best to return her smile. "I'll try to keep that promise." He walked with Marla slowly towards the room. "So how is the little squirt doin'?"
Marla smiled. "She's so much better. It's amazin' the kind a' difference we've seen in here just in the last 24 hours. It seems like once her fever totally broke, she just started to liven up. Her cough is still bad and the X-rays show she still has fluid in her lungs, but her spirit has started to return and she's had more energy. It's wonderful."
Jack grinned. That was just the news he needed to make his day better. He walked the rest of the way into the room, too anxious to hang back any longer and Marla followed him in.
"Look who's here Eliza." Marla said.
Eliza had her room to herself and was sitting up in bed coloring a picture of a dog and cat jumping rope. When she heard Marla's voice she looked up and her eyes twinkled. She was worlds different from the way she'd looked when he'd first arrived on Tuesday. Her face was no longer pale—her cheeks had their normal peachy flush—and her whole aura just seemed more alive.
"Poppa! Haven't seen you in a couple days!"
Jack sat down in a chair next to his little girl. "Only since Thursday."
"Still."
Marla took a step in the direction of the door. "I'm gonna head on out. I'll be back in about and hour or so."
Jack nodded. "See ya."
"Bye Mama." Eliza waved and then continued coloring, her strokes slow and measured from her remaining weakness. Jack watched as the dog's collar little by little turned a deeper shade of blue. He looked up at his granddaughter.
"I'm glad ta see yer feelin' better. We were real worried for a little while."
Eliza kept her eyes on her artwork. "I know. But I'll be okay now."
Jack smiled, felt emotion build in his chest and took in a deep breath. "Good to hear, sweetheart."
He squeezed her little arm and sat back in his chair. "So what've you been doin' the past day or so."
Eliza shrugged. "Sleepin'. Mama won't let me sit up and color for too long, says she don't want me tirin' myself out. I watch T.V., and that's about it, not much different from what I did a few days ago."
"Cept now you color."
She nodded. "Right, but not for very long."
Jack chuckled. "Yer mom's jest lookin' out for ya."
Eliza smiled. Jack sighed and for the first time in the past 24 hours, felt genuinely good. Eliza abruptly stopped her coloring and turned to Jack.
"Did I ever tell you I finished the book?"
Jack shook his head, brought his eyebrows together. "What book?"
Eliza rolled her eyes. "The one you bought me in June. I finished it a couple weeks ago."
Realization suddenly hit Jack. "Oh! The Goosebumps book, right?" He'd almost forgotten about the book he'd bought her, it had been overshadowed by the book he'd bought himself that day.
"Yeah it was real cool, you got to pick your own fate in it."
Jack felt his stomach stir a little. "That so?" He thought for a minute. "Yeah, I remember noticin' that when I bought it."
"It was so annoyin' too! Took me forever to read because I kept changin' my mind and goin' back, cuz I really didn't wanna mess it up, ya know?"
Jack just nodded. "I can imagine."
She laughed. "It was really weird, about these worms that were tryin' to eat this whole town and I had to save the day. When I got to a certain point in the book, there'd be a page that'd say, 'Do you want to go and explore the laboratory, or do you want to go back home and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.' It was weird." She used a deep, funny voice when she quoted the book.
"Well I decided to go the laboratory the first time but then half way through I got chicken, so I went back and decided to make a sandwich. Know what happened?"
He shook his head. "No, what?"
"Turned out the stupid worms were in the sandwich or somethin' and I died."
Jack raised his eyebrows. "That certainly sounds unfortunate."
"Yeah, I know. So I went back to where I was, but then I got chicken again and decided not ta tell anyone about what I'd seen in the laboratory. That didn't work either."
"The worms get into another sandwich?"
Eliza chuckled and coughed a little. Jack handed her a glass of water and she sipped. Then shook her head. "No, the town just got attacked and I died again."
"This sounds like a lose-lose sort a' situation."
Eliza shook her head again, a twinkle in her eye. "Nope. I died like five times before I found out that the stupid path I should have taken was the one I started out with in the first place. That was the one that was all exciting and in the end I finished without dying! I was just too chicken to stick too it."
Jack swallowed, suddenly felt like the room was too hot. "That so."
"Yup. I think the whole thing taught me some sort a' lesson too."
"Really, and what was that?"
Eliza smiled. "I think from now on I'm gonna do what my gut tells me to. Otherwise the next thing ya know I'll be eatin' a sandwich full a' worms and never know what could a' been, ya know?"
Jack knew. He felt like his head was spinning again but not from drunkenness. "Those are awful big thoughts and words for a 9 year old."
"10 this December."
Jack just smiled, and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He suddenly felt like he needed some air, so he excused himself for a brief moment and went to the vending machine he'd passed near the elevator.
"Holy shit, what just happened?"
He'd been hit by a ton of bricks (or a can of worms), that's what had happened. He suddenly felt like he had to hightail it out of there, had to go home and had to get his shit together and back to Wyoming as soon as possible.
"Oh shit, I made such a mistake, such a huge fuckin' mistake. Gotta tell Ennis, gotta get back to Wyoming to see him. Should a' never made that phone call."
It was weird but Eliza, his nine-year-old (10 in December) granddaughter had put his whole life in perspective while talking about some scary book that he'd bought her.
"…you got to pick your own fate in it."
Jack felt himself shiver as he arrived at the Pepsi Machine. He put in $1.25 and pressed the button to get a water bottle out, heard the machine whir and click and then there was a loud thump as the heavy bottle hit the opening of the machine. He reached down, grabbed the bottle, twisted the cap off as quickly as possible and chugged half the cold water down—felt good on his throat and his jittery stomach and helped to clear his mind.
"Okay, Twist, don't get too far ahead a' yerself here. One step at a time, right?"
Right. And what he had to do first was wait for Marla to get back, and then he could go back to his house, re-pack his bags and catch the first flight to Wyoming, fuck driving, he was sick of it already.
Jack pulled shirts out of his closet and jammed them into his suitcase, did the same with pants, socks, and underwear. All he could focus on was getting packed as soon as possible; he'd called the Amarillo International Airport on his way back to the house and found out there was a flight leaving for Sweetwater at four o'clock that evening. He'd arranged for the airport to send a cab out to get him at one (so he didn't have to take Lureen's poor SUV), which would be ridiculously expensive, but Jack really didn't care. That gave him a half hour to get ready and three hours to get there, just to be safe. He'd spent his first few minutes back at the house writing Lureen a note, explaining his absence, and saying that it was all water under the bridge, that he was happy for her and hoped she could be happy for him. Now it was almost one, and he was running around the house like a mad man trying to pack his bags.
He paused and counted the things he'd stuffed into his bag to make sure he had enough for as long as it took to work things out. Honestly, Jack didn't have a clue how things would work out, but he just knew that he had to try.
He'd had a revelation, something that he hadn't understood before. He'd discovered that he'd never be able to give his family all he could if he wasn't happy to begin with. And God knew he'd be miserable living in Childress by himself, most likely sold short on the business and having to watch Lureen live her fairy tale ending with her fella Derk, or Spike, or Mike. If he wasn't with Ennis, he wasn't anything, he'd known that, but now he was going to do something about it.
Jack was tired of playing by other's rules, tired of "being chicken" and taking the safe route, what he'd been doing his entire fucking life before Annie Proulx had come along with her crazy story. And for a little while he'd slipped back into that old habit, that old Jack. There was no "Brokeback" Jack or "Real" Jack, only old Jack and new Jack, and new Jack did "what his gut told him to do", he chose the path that was "exciting".
Jack zipped up his bag and dragged it with him across the house to the guest room where he'd been staying. Ennis had been right and it made him smile.
"Let's take a chance writin' our own version, Ennis. I'm game if you are."
He walked through the door into the light green bedroom and looked around, making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. His eyes ran over the dresser and the bed and then they landed on the folded shape of Ennis' worn plaid shirt. Jack's heart seemed to skip a beat and he walked over to the bed, gingerly lifted the shirt and brought it to his face to smell.
Ennis' scent was less apparent now, had faded slightly and mingled with his own since he'd slept with it by his head for the past week. But it still evoked a memory, of the clear mountain air, the trickling stream near by, the warmth of the fire and of Ennis' strong lanky body, kept muscular and taught with years of ranch work.
Suddenly the doorbell rang and Jack opened the suitcase, stuffed the shirt in as carefully as possible and grabbed his hat (made sure he didn't forget it this time). He dragged his bag down the hall and to the front door, anxious about not keeping the taxi waiting for too long.
"Be there in jest a minute!" He yelled, hoping they heard him and waited. He ran back into his bedroom and quickly opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, pulled out a wad of cash from the very back, hidden behind some paperbacks he'd collected, and stuffed them in his wallet.
He sprinted back out into the hall, hoisted his bag and walked to the front door. The taxi driver knocked three times. Jack frowned.
"I'm comin', I'm comin', keep yer pants on!" He set down his bag, checked his back pocket for his phone, then opened the door.
Jack blinked, took in the man standing at his door all at once, from the worn
leather boots he'd seen for the first time at the Bottom's Up Bar in Riverton, to the faded tan hat he was busy twisting between his fingers. Jack felt his stomach drop out of his body and knees turn to jelly. He tried to form words, but the man in front of him beat him to it.
"Jack…" Ennis Del Mar spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.