“Damn fucking straight it is.” Steve dropped his cigarette butt onto the floor and ground it out under his boot. And then he flashed a grin at Justin. “Hey, you bring those kids back here tomorrow, huh? See if they remember their old Uncle Steve.”
“Okay,” Justin said, his stomach twisting because he knew better than to say no to Steve. “I’ll see you later.”
He didn’t wait for Steve’s reply.
* * * *
Walking into Del’s house felt like walking underwater. Everything was slow and dull and muted, and Justin couldn’t break through the surface.
“Hey,” Del said, his face lighting up with a smile. “What did he say?”
Justin stared at him blankly.
“That bad, huh?” Del asked with a sympathetic look. “It’s okay. You can keep borrowing mine if you need it.”
Right. The car. Justin had forgotten about that, and now he wanted to rewind the whole day back to the point where the car had been his biggest worry.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess…I guess we’ll figure something out. So, um, what’s on the menu for tonight?”
“Tuna bean salad,” Del said. “I know it doesn’t sound exciting, but, trust me, you’re going to love it.”
“I do,” Justin said, stumbling over the words. “I do trust you.”
Del gave him a look. “You sure you’re okay, baby?”
“Yeah,” Justin said, and it felt like the lie was written all over his face. He knew he couldn’t hide the truth forever—hell, he knew he probably couldn’t hide it for the length of the weekend with Abigail—but at the same time he didn’t know how to tell Del that his whole world was crashing down. Again. Always. What was the difference? So instead he forced a smile onto his face, and reached out for Del’s hand. “Let’s go eat.” 16
For the first time in ages, Del’s brain was truly whirring with ideas and inspiration. Shooting that little video for Abigail to see had actually filled Del with excitement in a way not many things had managed since the divorce, and losing Trim.
Her feedback had been enthusiastic and encouraging. When Del had sent the same thing to his agent, the response had been similar, if slightly more cautious.
Michel Dubois had presented Del whenever needed and kept an eye on opportunities for more than five years now. He had never been officially Del’s agent, just someone respected enough in that business and a good enough friend that his opinion mattered.
Michel was one of those people Bernie called “delightfully gay.” He was really good at hiding his sharp wit and professional prowess under a flair of flamboyant energy. Michel loved making homophobic business professionals feel uncomfortable as he wiped the table with them.
Right at the moment, Michel was figuring out where Del’s idea could fit best, if he should put the whole book thing on the back burner and see if this YouTube idea got off the ground and so on.
He’d warned Del about one thing already; YouTubers who wanted to collaborate in person needed to be in California, and collaborations were the easiest way to get you noticed on a larger scale.
At the moment, though, Del was in no rush to get back to California. First of all, he wasn’t sure how Justin would take the idea of moving. There was also the fact that Harper was in school here. Whether the school was a good one or not—and that was yet to be seen, but at least the suspension incident had been only of its kind so far—it wasn’t for Del to say.
Del thought that the kids would flourish in another place. Somewhere in a nice, safe, slightly wealthier neighborhood around Irvine or somewhere like that. Still close enough to LA to be easy to commute to when needed, but less hectic.
A place where all of them would feel out of place for a while, but that would take out the stress of safety and give the kids good schools and mental space for Justin to figure out what he wanted to do with his life.
That was another thing they hadn’t talked about. Del didn’t know what Justin’s dreams were. If all the obstacles were taken out of the equation, what would Justin want to do.
He hadn’t asked, because at the moment, there was no space for Justin’s dreams to become a reality. Del didn’t want to rub it in. As long as they were in this town, Justin was stuck to doing whatever he could get a paycheck from and taking care of his siblings.
Del had options, because his job didn’t necessarily, at least yet, have to be tied to a location. He could write or do the YouTube thing, or he could go work at someone’s restaurant if it came to that—not that he wanted to ever do that latter again, but he would, for his family.