Chapter 17 - Namid

Chapter 17

Namid

The three-day trip home is nearly as excruciating as the drive to Seattle was. I'm not meant to sit in a small, confined space for days on end, and I can't decide if knowing what to expect after suffering through the drive down has made the experience better or worse. Jayce and I feel…different…on the way home. Something shifted between us the night before we left, and there is something warm and weightless enveloping us and holding us effortlessly together even outside the cab of his truck. When we stop at gas stations and check into our motels at night, his fingers clasp mine tightly, and our shoulders bump together as we walk. Neither of us cares who sees. Neither of us even thinks about it. We aren't Jayce and Namid any longer. We're US .

When we leave the final motel on day three, it's just before dawn, and while I should be excited to watch the sunrise as I've only been awake to see a handful of those in my life, I'm too tired to care. Jayce has two cups of coffee waiting for me by the time I stumble to the truck, but I still don't feel remotely human until well after we stop for lunch. If anyone ever decides to torture me for information, this will be the way they do it. I am not built to survive waking with the dawn, but the early start means that we'll be home in time to have dinner with Ken before settling in for the night.

A lot of folks might find my relationship with Ken a bit odd. After all, not many grown men have dinner with their parents several nights a week. It works for us though. He's not only the closest thing to a father I've ever known, he's also my friend. He's been kind to me from the moment he found me, and for a long time, we've been the only person the other has had. Jayce has never felt like he thinks our relationship is odd; if anything, he's always felt slightly envious. Not in a mean-spirited way, of course. It's just that by the time I met Jayce, he'd already lost all of his family. Ken and I are his family now. We all feel that way, and it warms my soul to know that not only have Jayce and I found one another, he's found a new family with Ken as well. Jayce and I have been so caught up in one another while we've been away that we've only texted Ken a handful of times. But I've missed him, and even though having a family dinner together could easily wait another day, I'm excited for us to spend the evening together like we always do.

The weather has cooperated throughout our journey home, and no storms stand in our way as we drive for hours along the nearly empty, swerving, black asphalt that cuts through the forests for miles and miles. It's late afternoon when the gravel driveway in front of my small cabin finally crunches under the weight of Jayce's truck, but this late in the year, it's already dark. We dump our bags just inside the front door and stumble to the bathroom in a daze. Neither of us is feeling particularly sexual after three days on the road, but after nearly an hour together in my tiny shower, during which we cling and touch and hold one another, we're feeling more like ourselves.

The moment I pull open the front door to Ken's house, we're greeted by the scent of roasting meat and vegetables. It's the same meal he's cooked every Sunday since I came to live with him. It smells like home. Ken rises from his armchair the instant we step inside, moving quickly to pull me into a tight hug. When he lets go of me, he pulls Jayce in and squishes him without a hint of uncertainty or hesitation. Jayce is his family now, too, and I can't help the way my heart melts at the happiness and sense of belonging that floats up from each of us, swirling together to fill the room with soft greens and golds and silvers.

We quickly fall into our normal dinner routine, chatting idly and moving in well-synchronized unison as we fill our plates in the kitchen and settle in around Ken's old, scuffed oak table. Dinner lasts for hours as we regale Ken with stories about our trip, and conversation ebbs and flows easily between the three of us. Somehow, it feels like it's always been the three of us. Jayce fits here - he fits with me. We laugh together as we tell him about the day we nearly got stuck on a sandbar when we didn't notice the tide coming in during one of our beach trips, and when I describe the date Jayce arranged at the Sky Bar, Ken's soul is filled with love and support and longing. The longing takes me by surprise. It's not something I've ever felt from Ken before, and I find myself wondering if the years he's spent without Katherine have been lonelier than I realized.

Ken is amazed as I describe the way I was able to spend the day at a museum. When he unwraps the small painting of a sailboat pulling into the harbor we've brought him from the gallery where Jayce's sculptures now reside, he breaks into tears of joy and gratitude, not over the gift, but rather over the way three men who found themselves alone in the world have managed to form a new, loving family.

"You know, Kat and I went to Seattle once," Ken offers, changing the subject with one last quiet sniff as he carefully settles the painting onto the coffee table in front of the couch.

I'm taken aback when he mentions Katherine. It's not that he hasn't talked about her over the years, but rarely has he shared specific memories. I wonder if it's been too hard for him. Maybe her memories have been precious things that he's hidden away for himself the way I once thought I'd end up holding onto my moments with Jayce before my wildest dreams came true.

"Ethan was only about twelve, so it was a long time ago." He laughs as he gets lost in the memory, but even years after her passing, loss still stains the edges of his happiness .

"It was a good trip though?" Jayce asks.

"It was wonderful. Even though it was a couple of decades ago, I imagine the city wasn't that much different than it is now. In fact, the first time I saw it from the freeway, I remember thinking almost exactly the same thing Namid described. It really is magical the way the entire city seems to almost co-exist with nature in a way."

"Maybe we could all go back sometime? I mean, Jayce usually goes every summer…maybe next year we could all go together…as a family." I know my voice is quiet and tentative as I ask, but I don't want to push Ken or make Jayce feel like I'm trying to somehow replace his memories of his trips with Jordyn.

Loss and love flood the room as Jayce reaches over to take my hand.

"I'd really like that." His voice cracks as he forces out the words, but he means it.

I'm so lost in his gentle, jade eyes and the tender, hopeful smile that tugs at his lips that I'm almost startled when Ken's hand comes to rest on top of our intertwined fingers.

"I would too."

A long, heavy moment passes as we each take comfort in the life we've built together before Ken pulls his hand away and snorts out a laugh.

"I definitely think we should fly. It sounds like Namid may not survive another road trip, and I'm too old for roadside motel beds."

My eyes roll automatically. "You're not old, Ken. "

"Well, I'm not young, that's for sure."

"Sixty-seven is not old."

Jayce snickers. "I don't know, Ken. I mean, if you were old, wouldn't you be retired?"

"Who's going to take over here if I retire now? This one?" He gestures to me with a mocking frown, clearly trying to fight the smile that threatens to burst free. "You think he'd be any good at facilitating funerals with that smitten kitten smile on his face he's always wearing these days?"

I nearly choke to death as water makes its way up my nose and tries to drown me when I snort out a laugh while taking a drink. Any witty retorts from either myself or Jayce are lost as I try to cough and laugh simultaneously, which only leads to more snorting. The three of us collapse into laughter for long enough that our sides ache by the time we manage to catch our breath.

While I've dreamed of it nearly every day since Ken found me, not once in my life have I truly believed I would manage to find this sort of happiness.