Chapter 10 - JayceNamid

Chapter 10

Jayce

Aside from the time I've spent in my truck driving to the hospital and back home, I've been in the same room as either Ken or Namid for almost seventy-two hours, and it's been…nice.I hadn't realized just how much I've adapted to spending so much time on my own since I lost Jordyn. Aside from my weekly brunches with Namid and the few hours a month he spends at my shop, I've been alone.

Oh sure, there are a handful of people in town who would probably call me their friend, but they're acquaintances at best, and after Jordyn died, they all sort of vanished. We were always US , so my friends were his friends, and I know that his loss has been hard on them, too. Still, I guess some part of me expected more from them somehow, and I've been better off on my own than trying to reach out and force something I wouldn't have enjoyed anyway. I was barely capable of keeping myself alive at first, and even though my grief has faded over the past few months, being alone has just become my default.

I woke hours earlier than Namid the day after the accident. No surprise there, as he's mentioned before that he typically sleeps from three a.m. to ten a.m., and I'm more of a ten p.m. to six a.m. kind of guy. I drove down to the shop, put a sign on the door saying I'd be away for a couple of days, and had breakfast ready before he woke. It's not like closing the shop on short notice inconvenienced anyone. There are only two big project trucks at the shop - neither of them rush jobs - and everyone in town has my cell number anyway. The shop doesn't have its own phone line. It's not like I dropped off the face of the earth in case there's a true emergency, but in a town like this, a true mechanical emergency that can't wait a couple of days doesn't really exist.

Namid had stumbled out of the guest room around nine, hair tousled, wearing my plaid flannel pajama pants and one of my T-shirts that was somehow hilariously large on him, even though he's only a couple of inches shorter than me. His lean, athletic torso couldn't fill the fabric that had stretched from its original shape to fit my broad shoulders and the bit of cushion my stomach carries these days. He'd looked close to tears as he sipped his coffee and thanked me over and over when I told him I'd taken a couple of days off to be his and Ken's liaison.

I've spent a couple of hours the past two mornings and a couple more the past two afternoons in the hospital. I haven't interacted much with Ken over the years, maybe because he's so much older. Maybe because he runs the funeral home, and that doesn't exactly scream, "I'm the pleasant type who's looking for piles of friends." It might be because he lost his wife not long before I lost my parents, and we were both too lost, drowning in our own grief to spend our time trying to make any other relationships work.Whatever the reason, I hope that will change once he's home. It turns out I really like the guy.

Namid has spent his time trying to repay me for my support no matter how many times I tell him it's my pleasure to help and that he should just take advantage of the days Ken is in the hospital and rest. Every time I come home, he has lunch or dinner ready, the house has been vacuumed, my laundry has been folded, or some other trivial task has been completed. I don't want him to feel indebted simply because I'm being kind, but I know that it's killing him to just sit around and wait for Ken to be released so they can go home, so I've thanked him and tried to get him to simply sit with me and talk whenever possible.

The hospital told us that Ken would be released this morning, so we'd arrived around nine, ready to take him home. But by the time the paperwork was complete, we had him all packed up, and we'd navigated driving through the pouring rain from the hospital to his house, it was close to three this afternoon. I'd settled a thankful and relieved Namid and an exhausted Ken at home and told them I had some work to catch up on at the shop. I don't. The shop can wait. Over the past few days, I've found something with Ken and Namid that I thought I'd lost forever. A family.

Family.

I can't seem to remove the small smile that won't leave my face as I stand in the checkout line at the grocery store. I never thought family was something you could find a second time, but maybe if I'm lucky, really, really lucky, they might think of me as family one day, too.

After I've finished grabbing a few days' worth of groceries, I'll stop by the diner to pick up the order I managed to sneak in before Ed decided to close early because of the storm. We're so used to bad weather, even during the summer, that businesses rarely close because of heavy storms, but even though it's still tourist season, with this much rain thundering down, the diner won't see much more business this evening, and it makes sense for them to get home to their families.

Ken was only at the hospital for three days, so it's not like he and Namid were away for long enough for all of their food to go bad. I'm sure they both have plenty of groceries at home, but I remember all too well just how much it meant to me when Namid made sure I had fresh food at home when I wasn't capable of such a feat on my own after I lost Jordyn. Ensuring they're taken care of for the next few days as they settle in and getting them a good hot meal tonight is the least I can do.

The storm is raging as I pull into Ken's driveway, and I do my best to curl my body around the cloth bags in an attempt to protect them from being soaked through as I unload them from my truck and settle them on the porch before knocking .

"Hi." Namid is clearly surprised to see me so soon.

"Hey." I grin as he looks around, noticing the bags piled at my feet on the porch.

"What is all this?"

"You were so good to me when I lost Jordyn, and I know that the two of you have a lot of work ahead of you over the next few days, so I wanted to make sure that you didn't have to worry about food."

I hoist the soaking-wet plastic bag from the diner with a triumphant grin.

"I also brought you dinner for tonight, since I don't imagine either of you is up to cooking."

"Jayce…" His blue eyes sparkle as he shakes his head with a smile. "You've done so much for us already. This is absolutely above and beyond."

I don't need to have Namid's gift to realize just how much such a small gesture means to him. After all, aside from Ken, it's not like there's ever been anyone else looking out for him. I hate that. I know I can't change the past, but I can certainly make sure that he knows he's not alone now.

"Come on. Let me help you get all of this inside, and then I'll leave you guys to rest."

Namid cocks his head and frowns. "You're not staying to have dinner with us?"

"I only got dinner for you guys. I figure you've had enough of me by now."

His frown deepens. "What was it you told me the first night I stayed with you? I'm not kicking your ass out? Come on, let's get this into the kitchen, and then you're staying for dinner. I'm sure there is plenty for the three of us."

Ken is settled on his old, overstuffed, navy couch, surrounded by blankets, and piles of pillows are propping up his arm in its complicated sling. Even though I saw him a few hours ago, he seems genuinely happy to see me again, and he quickly seconds Namid's demanding request that I join them for supper.

By the time we've put the groceries away, dished up three plates, and joined Ken in the front room to eat, the storm outside is starting to calm. Namid and I settle cross-legged on the floor to share the coffee table while Ken struggles not to spill everywhere with his plate resting on a pillow on his lap. The fire has warmed the small living room, and it's comfortable here with them. I don't feel out of place or like I'm intruding. It feels like I belong as we eat and laugh and ramble together. I never expected to feel like I belonged anywhere again.