Grown-up (11 page)

He parked a couple of blocks away from Sam’s Furniture. He could have found a much closer spot, but he was nervous, and a slight delay seemed like a good idea. He walked really slowly.

He ultimately reached the entrance and had no excuse for remaining outside. Sam and Ben both sat at their desks, and they both looked up as he stood in the office doorway. Neither seemed pleased.

“Hi,” Austin said quietly, his gaze somewhere between them.

Ben didn’t answer, but his chair squeaked as he angled himself slightly away. Sam, on the other hand, responded with a resigned-sounding “Hi, Austin.”

“You’re seeing me here in the middle of the day and you’re figuring I’m about to ask for money.”

“Austin, I—”

“I can understand that. But I’m not fired, Dad. In fact, I got a raise today. And a title. I’m now the official Gifted assistant manager.”

Sam leapt from his chair, rushed over, and crushed him in a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo!”

“I’m an employee at a gift shop, Dad. I didn’t win the Nobel Prize.” His words were slightly muffled by the hug.

But Sam only squeezed harder. “I don’t care.” He stepped back, but only a little. “You really made an effort to improve. It’s not the size of the achievement that matters to me—it’s the work that went into it.”

“I…. Thanks, Dad. I didn’t do it myself, though. I had help.” Austin gestured at Ben. “He was my mentor.”

Sam didn’t look surprised, which was… interesting. But he nodded slightly. “Asking Ben for help was a good idea. He’s a good role model.”

He’s more than that
, Austin wanted to say but didn’t. “He really helped me get my head together.”
And pretty much tore my heart apart
.

“Well, how about if we all go out to dinner tonight to celebrate?” Sam asked.

“I’m busy,” blurted Ben and Austin at the same time.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he said. And then he looked back and forth between them with a very sharp gaze. He’d never been a stupid man.

Austin bunched his hands into fists and warned himself to act like an adult. “Ben? Could I talk to you, please?”

“I’m busy,” Ben said again, scowling.

“I just need a few minutes.”

Ben looked as if he were going to refuse, but Sam intervened. “It’s okay, Ben. I can spare you.”

Ben stood, but he certainly wasn’t happy about it. He spent a moment shuffling papers on his desk before catching Austin’s eyes. “We can go outside.”

Instead of heading out the front, they walked to the loading dock. The large sectional steel door was shut, so they went out the regular door instead. Someone had set a couple of plastic lawn chairs out on the concrete platform, but Ben and Austin didn’t sit. Ben leaned against the brick wall with his arms crossed on his chest, while Austin hovered uncomfortably a few paces away.

“What are you busy with?” Austin asked, just to break the silence.

“The retail space. The architect gave us the plans, but now we have to worry about costs and timelines and permits. Stuff like that. It’s a headache.”

“But I bet it’ll be great when it’s ready.”

“Yeah. But first there’s a lot of work.”

“I had this idea—” Austin almost bit his tongue. Ben didn’t care about his ideas.

But maybe Ben did, because he asked, “What?”

“I don’t know what kind of interior design you guys were thinking of. But if the space looked more roomlike instead of just furniture lined up in rows, people could really picture things in their house. They’d be more likely to buy.”

“The architect said the same thing,” Ben said, his mouth curved into a small smile.

That was nice to know. “And maybe… if you guys wanted….”

“What?”

“You could hang art on the shop walls. Real art, I mean. I bet you could find some local artists who’d be happy for the exposure, and it would make your customers feel very hip.”

“Have you been thinking about the shop a lot, Austin?”

“No.” Austin toed at the concrete. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he said without looking up.

But after a while he had to look up because Ben remained silent. And when Austin did, Ben had that inscrutable expression, made worse this time by sunlight glinting off his glasses. “Why?” Ben said.

“I just… I thought maybe we could catch dinner together soon. Or lunch. I know this place that makes the most amazing burritos. It’s not far from here.”

“I can’t, Austin.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re busy. But we could go this weekend. I work Saturday morning at the deli and that’s it. Or—”

“I can’t.” Ben moved away from the wall and walked to the edge of the loading dock, where the concrete was a little crumbly. He stared forward, as if enjoying the view, but there was nothing to see apart from the street and a row of similar docks on the tile factory opposite. “I just can’t.”

Austin was not going to cry. He was not the crying type, goddammit. “Why not? I thought we were friends.”

“Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies?”

“No! Pals who hang out together once in a while.” Because although that wasn’t what he yearned for, he was willing to settle.

“We’re too different.”

“You mean I’m too big of a fuckup?” Austin swallowed bitter bile.

Ben turned to look at him. “No. You’re not a fuckup. And I’m not judging you. I just can’t do what you do. The clubs, the… the hookups. It’s fine for you. It’s fine for a lot of people. But not for me.”

“I told you. We don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t need my advice anymore. You’re all grown up. You don’t need a mentor.”

He didn’t feel grown up. He felt very young, in fact, and lost and confused. But he couldn’t bring himself to admit that to Ben. “I don’t want your advice anymore, Benny. I want—”

“I have to go.” Ben brushed past him swiftly. He yanked the door open and let it bang shut behind him, leaving Austin on the loading dock with two plastic chairs, a crappy view, and an ache deep in his chest.

Chapter Nine

“W
ANT
MORE
popcorn?” Rob asked, holding out a large bowl.

From the opposite end of the couch, Austin took it. “Thanks.”

“We’re gonna be at the good part really soon. The thing’s gonna explode from his chest and he’s gonna be all
blargh-agh
.” Rob enhanced the sound effects by pretending his hand was an alien emerging from his midsection.

“Thank you for the lovely re-creation.” Austin knew better than to watch movies he’d never seen with Rob. The guy was the Master of Spoilers. But even knowing what was to come, Austin clutched the popcorn bowl firmly. He hated shit that jumped out by surprise. And sure enough, when the alien made its sudden appearance, Austin startled a little, which made Rob laugh.

“Hey, dude,” Rob said when his chuckles subsided, “how come you don’t go out no more?” He was perfectly capable of grammatical English but seemed to forget that after a few bong hits.

“It’s only four o’clock.”

“You gonna go out later?”

Austin sighed. “Probably not.” Even though he had the next day off. Randy, Colton, and the others had stopped texting him invitations a couple of months back. He could have contacted them, of course, but the clubs and bars just didn’t draw him anymore. Most weeks he managed to catch a few extra shifts at the deli, and when he wasn’t working or sleeping, he hit the gym or vegged on the couch with Rob, eating junk food and watching junk TV.

Rob shrugged. “Cool. We can order Chinese later if you want.”

“Okay.”

They watched for a while, passing the popcorn back and forth. “Man, Sigourney Weaver was
hot
,” Rob said with his mouthful. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m gay, Rob.”

“Don’t mean you can’t appreciate female pulchritude. Besides, she’s pretty butch.”

“Still not my type.”

That seemed to catch Rob’s interest, because he focused his bloodshot eyes on Austin instead of the screen. “What is your type?”

“I dunno.” Oh yes he did. Light-haired, wiry, bespectacled, kind of quiet and geeky. Unobtainable and incommunicado.

“Well, girlfriends are too much work. Probably boyfriends too. Don’t need ’em when you got the Internet and a good right hand.”

Austin would have argued that there was more to dating than sex, but he and Rob both knew he was hardly an expert on romantic relationships. Instead, he sighed and flexed his right hand, thinking that it made a damn poor conversationalist.

The android got decapitated, crew members died, and Austin and Rob finished off the popcorn. Neither of them quite had the energy to go make more. “I got the sequel too,” Rob said. “Disc’s in my room somewhere.”

Austin shuddered to think of the probable condition of Rob’s room. And then the doorbell rang, startling them both. Rob hastily hid his bong behind a sofa cushion while Austin got up to answer.

“Dad!” he exclaimed when he opened the door.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Is something wrong?”

Sam smiled easily and patted his shoulder. “Everything’s fine. I thought I’d stop by your store, but when I got there, your boss said you had the day off. And then I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

“Oh. Sorry.” As had become his habit lately, he’d left his phone in the bedroom with the ringer turned off. The device seemed to taunt him less that way.

Sam was looking over Austin’s shoulder. He’d never been to this apartment, which suddenly felt especially dumpy and dirty. Austin had been thinking lately of finding a better place, maybe with a single roommate who didn’t get stoned all the time or leave the dregs of kale-kelp protein shakes in all the coffee mugs.

“Want to come in?” Austin asked.

“How about we go out for an early dinner instead? My treat.”

“Uh, sure. Let me just grab my stuff.”

While Sam stood just inside, chatting with Rob about God knew what, Austin went to his room to get his shoes and phone and to comb his hair. Despite Sam’s assurance that everything was hunky-dory, Austin worried. What if Sam or Bill were sick? What if there was bad news about Austin’s mom, who hadn’t sent a postcard in ages? What if his brother and sister-in-law were having some sort of crisis and wanted to ship their toddlers from Indiana into Austin’s care? What if—well, better to just hurry up and find out instead of stressing over it.

“Where to?” Sam asked as they walked across the parking lot.

“You’re paying the bill, so you decide.”

“But I hear you have the inside track on where to eat in this town.”

Austin grinned. “Are you feeling adventurous, Dad?”

“As long as whatever they feed me doesn’t bite me back.”

They ended up taking Austin’s car, a used Honda he’d bought a few weeks earlier. It had less than fifty thousand miles on it and he’d gotten a great deal, so he was willing to overlook the fact that it was boring. It was weird to have Sam as a passenger. Austin felt as though he were fifteen again and being subjected to driving lessons—a traumatic memory for him
and
Sam.

When Austin pulled into the Den’s parking lot, Sam’s eyebrows flew up and pretty much stayed there as they entered the place. “Really?” he stage-whispered after they’d been seated.

“The food’s good.”

“The waiter probably thinks I’m dating you.”

“Eww. Way to give me daddy issues, Dad.”

Sam smiled. “You didn’t already have daddy issues?”

“Not really. You’re a great father, and I couldn’t ask for a better stepdad than Bill.”

Now Sam beamed. “Well, we must have done something right, because you turned out pretty well.”

Austin still wasn’t used to hearing praise like that, and the words made him feel really good.

A hairy waiter came to the table, flirted a little with both of them—which made Sam adorably flustered—and took their orders. They both had sandwiches and onion rings.

“So how have things been going for you, Ozzy? You haven’t been coming around the factory at all.”

“I’ve been busy with work. But I have an actual balance in my savings account for the first time ever.”

“Do you like working at Gifted?”

“I do. I get to interact with people all day, and Tabby’s really cool.”

Sam straightened the salt and pepper shakers. “She had flattering things to say about you. She says the customers love you and you work really hard. And you’ve given her good suggestions for window displays and specials.”

Now it was Austin’s turn to beam. “She said that?”

“You were always a good kid, Ozzy. You shouldn’t be surprised you’re a good man.”

Austin basked for a few moments. “How about you? What’s up?”

“Bill and I are going to take a vacation in a couple of weeks. It’s been a long time since we went anywhere. We had a big fight over whether to go to Hawaii or New York.”

“So where are you going?” Austin asked with a smile, remembering their arguments when he was a kid. They didn’t have them often and they were fairly silent affairs, each of them trying to out-passive-aggressive the other.

“Barcelona.”

Austin snorted. “Well, it’s nice you can get away. I bet you’ll be really swamped once the store opens. How’s that going, by the way?”

“Well. Really well. The interior framing is finished and soon we’ll be done with the storefront. We used your suggestions, by the way. About the rooms and the art? We got the word out and now local artists are practically beating down the doors to be included.”

“That’s great, Dad.”

Sam nodded and scrunched his mouth slightly. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

“Art? Um, I’m not gonna be much help there.” If pressed, Austin could manage to scrawl a stick figure. He didn’t know much about selling art either. It was one of the few retail things he’d never tried.

“Not art, Ozzy. The store. I have a proposition for you.”

Of course the waiter came by at exactly that moment with their drinks, and he waggled his bushy eyebrows theatrically. “Sounds interesting, honey. If I were you, I’d say yes,” he said to Austin. “He’s cute.”

“He’s my
father
.”

“Oh. And is he single?” Batted eyelashes on a 250-pound bearded man were a sight to see.