Ever the Same (10 page)

“Shit, who knows? We probably just hit a lull. Shouldn’t be far now.”

“It’s still early, huh?” He grabbed his phone. “What time is it?”

“Five fifty-three,” his phone said in its tinny voice.

“Nice.” Audie turned at the next light. “I need to figure out how to do that, huh?”

“It’s handy, otherwise I’d never know.”

“So, how come you don’t have a dog?”

He liked that about Audie, how he simply asked what he wanted to know.

“I have to go in for training, lots of it, and I don’t have the time with Randi right now. Also, there’s Mom and Dad—if I go to Dallas, they have to drive me. If I go to Austin, I have to stay at the School for the Blind.”

“Are you going to go when Randi is out of school, then?” The motor downshifted again when they turned off on a smaller road yet.

“It depends on whether Ron’s folks want her for the summer, I guess.” He didn’t know. Just the concept of attempting to figure out how to know was enough to send him into a tailspin.

“She can’t stay with your folks? I mean, we’d be happy to help.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know.” Everything had happened so fast. He lost Ron twenty months ago. Twenty months.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to push. I ask stupid shit. Here we are.”

Dixon reached for Audie, shooting for a wrist, getting an arm. “Hey, it’s cool. I just don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. It’s like being in stasis, forever.”

“I don’t think you’re the kind to stay still forever, Dixon.” Audie took his hand, fingers warm and callused. “You just need time to get your head together.”

“I hope so. I guess we’ll see.” He worried. Christ, there wasn’t even an “about” anything in there. He just worried.

“I’ll help any way I can.” Audie still held his hand, sitting there in the truck. “So. Supper, huh?”

“Yeah. Food is good.” He let go of Audie’s hand and grabbed his cane. Okay, first post-Ron, postdaughter, postblind first date.

Blind first date.

His lips twitched at the pun.

Audie came around to the other side of the cab and put his free hand on one arm. Audie was a good guide: steady, strong, not pushy.

It was still warm, the heat of the summer threatening like it could in early May, the sun beating down and strong. He lifted his face to it, amazed at how good it felt.

They got up to the restaurant, the smells of garlic and olives rich, redolent. His nose worked overtime, and he heard Audie murmur to the hostess.

The clatter and voices seemed unusually loud, almost echoing, disorienting him, and he held tight to Audie. He knew he probably looked like an idiot, trying to see something, anything. Fuck, he stiffened, unnerved, embarrassed.

“Hey. It’s really loud tonight. Do y’all have anything in the way of quieter?” Oh good. Audie wasn’t talking to him.

“I’m sorry, sir. Not really. We don’t have a patio.”

“I’m not sure I’m up for it,” Audie said. “What do you think, Dixon? Come back for lunch at some point?”

Oh thank God.
“That sounds perfect to me. Perfect.”

“Thanks, hon,” Audie told the hostess. “We’ll come by next week for lunch.” Audie took his hand and put it on his arm, leading him back outside.

“I’m sorry and thank you so much.” Both things seemed important to say.

“Hey, it was crazy loud in there. The music and the talking. I would have ended up with a headache.” Audie opened his truck door. “Uh, we could find a little place. Has to be a cafe here somewhere.”

“You know, as long as the food’s decent, I’m happy. Simple is good.”

“Good deal.” Audie went around and hopped into the truck, and they headed back toward Greenville; he could tell, the sun wasn’t on his face anymore.

“There’s a place called Burgers & Fries in Royse City. Just good stuff. They have chicken fried steak too.”

“Perfect. I don’t suppose there are milkshakes?” Milkshakes made him happy. Ron used to take him to a place in Vegas with adult shakes.

“They do. Good ones. It’s like an old diner from the fifties only newer and cleaner.” It didn’t seem to take them long to get there, and while the place seemed bustling when they walked in, he could easily hear everything, separate the sounds.

Audie got him settled, then sat across from him. “So, how does this work? Do I read you the menu?”

“Are there chicken fingers and gravy?”

“There are. With Texas toast. You like chocolate or vanilla shakes? Oh, they have pineapple.”

“Pineapple. Oh hell yeah. That’s what I want. Fries, chicken fingers, gravy, toast. Shake.”

“You got it.” Audie got a huge breakfast and a glass of milk, with coffee and pie as a follow-up.

“You’re a brave man, going out with the blind guy.”

“Nah. You’re the brave one. I would just sit and be very still, I think.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s the temptation!” God, Audie got it. “Either that or I forget about my face.”

“You mean you pull crazy expressions?” Audie tapped the back of his hand gently. “I hear Randi say things once in a while. I’ll tell you if you do, okay?”

“Thank you. It’s hard, when you don’t look at other people, to remember to have normal face.”

“I never thought of that. I bet you hear all sorts of things, huh?”

“Starting to, yeah. At first, I didn’t think there was any truth to that shit, but now….” Now the music vibrated inside him, and he heard Randi all the way across the house.

“It kicks in, huh?” Their drinks came, and Audie helped him find his water glass.

“I think so, yeah. Either that or I’m crazy.”

“Well, maybe, but I bet not for that.”

Dixon could hear Audie tapping his foot to the music.

He relaxed back, head bobbing along too. “So, did you grow up here?”

“I did. I mean, in Greenville. Grainger goes to the same school I did.”

“That’s kind of cool. Do any of the teachers remember you?”

“Yes.” Audie chuckled. “I pity him when he gets to high school.”

“Yeah. My brother was a freshman when I was a junior.”

“Ouch. That’s even worse.”

“Nah. He’s like a fucking superhero, man. I mean, it’s unreal—he’s smart, athletic, and a damned soldier. I hate him.” Dixon had to grin, the lie patently obvious.

“You’re close like me and Gracie.” Audie sipped his drink, the slurpy straw sound giving it away. “We have two older sisters, but they were just so much older than us.”

“So you get it.” He explored the table—rolled silverware, placemat with scalloped edges.

“I think so, yeah. You’re old.” Audie waited, silent, to see what he would do.

“Fucking ancient, man. Ancient.”

They laughed together, and his milkshake showed up. God, he could smell the pineapple.

He found the edge of the glass and followed it up, the cold a little shocking, the frost tugging at his fingertips. The straw felt extra long and wide, like the ones in Vegas. Perfect for pineapple.

He took a long drink.
Oh. Oh yum
.

Yum.

“That’s a good face.” Audie clapped once, the sound sharp but happy. “Now I know how to make you smile.”

“Man, this is the best. Thank you.” He licked his lips clean, the cream catching on the stubble off his almost-stache.

“Uh-huh.” Audie sounded a little distracted.

“How’s yours?”

“It’s milk. I haven’t been paying attention, really. Been watching you.”

Oh.

Oh!

His cock went hard in his jeans, the husky tone of Audie’s voice turning him on like he was a hot-wired ignition.

“Is that okay?” Audie touched his wrist, a light, easy thing. “I like how you look.”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in months.”

“Oh good.” Audie backed off when the waitress approached, and they moved their arms so she could put down the food. Audie laughed softly. “For all you know, I’m butt ugly.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” There was no way that voice and soul belonged to ugliness.

“I’m grateful you seem to like me no matter what I look like.”

“I would be a shitty human being if I didn’t, and that’s not about being blind. That’s just about being a good man. Trying to be a good man.”

He wanted Randi to be proud of him. Hell, he wanted his brothers to be proud of him.

“You are. A good man, I mean. I’ve seen how you are with Grainger.”

“He’s a good kid.” He tilted his head. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Audie munched something crispy.

“Are you bi? I mean, obviously at twenty you didn’t use a surrogate.”

“Oh.” Audie paused and then cleared his throat. “No, I knew when I was fifteen how I was. She was—well, she needed someone willing to fight off the other boys, and we needed a beard.”

“Was she a local girl?” He found his plate, touching carefully. Chicken.

“Yeah. She’s long gone, you know? She was from the bad side of town, and her folks are mostly in and out of jail.”

“I’m sorry.” How awkward did that have to be?

“I’m sad for Marina, but I wouldn’t trade my boy for anything. He’s my life.”

“Well, sure. He’s amazing.”

“Thanks. I was so stupid, so young, but I’m grateful for him.”

He found a french fry and ate it. “We weren’t young, but we were terrified. Totally terrified. I’m a shiftless musician, Ron worked a hundred hours a week at his company, but we wanted a baby.”

“She’s a superneat kid.” Audie stole one of his fries, the tiny breeze alerting him.

“She’s been through a lot. They’re good, aren’t they?”

“They are.” Audie hummed. “My pancakes are pretty yummy.”

“Pancakes are Randi’s favorite food.” He stopped suddenly, then cracked up. “Oh my God, I’ve become one of those men that only know how to talk about their children on a date.”

“No shit.” Audie laughed with him, the sound genuine, happy. “At least I do too. Less awkward than asking you weird sexual questions.”

“Oh, honey, those are easy.” He let himself flame playfully, being quiet and over the top, all at once.

“Are they?” Audie paused, and he heard that straw sound again. “I’m not very good at those kinds of games. Though my friends would sure be surprised, I guess.”

“Well, I haven’t played any games in a long time, so that’s okay.”
Way to make Audie uncomfortable, Dixon.

“Good deal. We’re at a good starting point.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I do. I like you. You like me. You make me hot….”

Dixon’s cheeks heated, he felt it, and it seemed like an electric shock shot from his chest to his balls.

“Oh. Look at you. That’s an even better face than the milkshake happy.”

“Is it? I’m feeling pretty damned happy, to be honest.”

“I like happy.” Audie touched his hand again, another tiny contact, and they were adding up, making his skin tingle.

God, how weird was this, to be turned on, to be wanting and not have Ron there. He hadn’t sprung wood for months after he lost Ron, between the drugs to try to preserve some of his sight and the antidepressants. Now, it felt like he could really want someone, really think about naked touching.

He wanted so badly to see Audie, though, to know what his shape looked like before he touched.

“You okay, honey?”

“Fine.”

“You look a little pained.”

“I want to see you,” he confessed.

“That’s good, right?” Audie’s breath had caught, and now it came faster.

“Yeah, except I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Audie leaned elbows on the table.

“See you. I want to know what you look like.” He knew who Audie was, how he smelled, even the sound of his breath, but he wanted to see the man.

“Oh.” Audie seemed to ponder that a long time. “I can tell you. Let you touch.”

His entire body went “sproing!” and he missed the french fries, the plate clattering. “Yes.”

“Okay. Uh, whenever you want.” Audie helped him get his food back into alignment.

“Thank you. I…. Do you live with your mom and your sister?”

“Mom lives just up the road. Gracie and Sara stay with them. Mostly it’s just me and Grainger.”

It was so fucking weird, to not know this stuff, to not know how to go get Randi. What if she had an emergency, or just a panic attack?

“Hey, it’s okay, dude. Breathe.”

“It’s obvious?”

“Oh, honey, your face shows everything.” Audie sounded sympathetic but not pitying. He heard pity all the time.

“Sorry. I just… sometimes it’s so fucking big, you know? So immense, and I don’t know how to process it.”

“One day at a time. Should I, uh, get my pie to go? We could go park somewhere at the ranch and make out like idiots before you go say good night to Randi.”

“I think that sounds like a great birthday present.” He loved how Audie was just straightforward and sure.

“Oh good. Good deal.” Audie got their waitress to come on over, and ordered the pie to go, along with cookies for the kids.

Dixon finished his shake, left the rest of his supper, his belly a mass of nerves.

“Are you worried?” Audie took his arm, handing him his cane.

“Worried?” He stood up, and they headed out. He wasn’t sure if he was or not. He’d never kissed a man without seeing. He hadn’t kissed anyone but Ron in years, and what if he lost it when he did?

“Yeah. We don’t have to. I want to make out, I mean, but we can go watch Barbie movies. Listen. Whatever.”

“Dude, no matter how long it’s been, the possibility of making out is vastly superior to Barbie.”

“I agree.” The truck rumbled to life once he was settled, and Audie steered them back toward home. He thought it said something for Audie’s care that he drove pretty sedately.

Dixon steadfastly didn’t think about the last time he’d made out, about the last time he’d had sex. This wasn’t going to be like that. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be.

Still, anticipation curled in his belly, the need to touch Audie strong, to feel how the man was made, the texture of his skin.

He reached out, not curling his hand over Audie’s thigh or anything, just touching the outside of his leg.

Audie’s leg jumped a little, but the truck never stuttered, so that was a good move, Dixon guessed. Safe but interested, right?