Namid

Namid

I wonder about the beautiful man as I curl up under a thick, fluffy blanket beside my fire with a book. Ken and I ate dinner together, as we do most nights, and I'd asked about the beautiful man. When I did, I felt Ken's soul begin to ache.

"He's a good man, that Jayce. His brother Jordyn was too. They lost their parents in a wreck, oh…eight or nine years back. I knew them well, the Stephens; they had dinner with me and Kat on more than a few occasions. Jayce shouldn't have to do this again, but the world ain't fair most of the time."

"Does he live in town?" I don't normally ask about clients, or anyone, really, and I wondered what Ken would make of my curiosity even though I'd made sure to give it a few weeks before asking so that I didn't seem too eager or curious.

Ken grinned at me like a cat who'd cornered a mouse in the pantry.

"Any particular reason you'd like to know? "

I'd shaken my head, careful to keep my gaze on the mug my hands were playing with.

"No reason. I was just curious."

His expression and voice and emotions all softened.

"He lives in town, owns the mechanic shop out on Westland. I'm sure you've seen him when you've taken in the truck or the hearse. Jordyn was always the front-end guy, not Jayce, but it could be hard to tell them apart."

His tone became contemplative as he continued. "I wonder what Jayce is going to do on his own now."

"Can he not run the shop on his own?"

Ken's brow furrowed. "Oh, I'm sure he can, but losing his brother has likely hit him harder than we realize, and I'm not sure he'll want to."

I stared at my fingers as they traced the swirled pattern on the ceramic mug.

"Maybe you should take the truck in soon, huh? Get a read on how he might be doing." Ken suggested hesitantly.

I cringed in his direction. "You always tell me that reading people with intent is an invasion of their privacy."

He had sighed as he reached over to take my hand, knowing that I'd be able to feel his worry for Jayce, knowing that I'd feel it too.

"I know, son, but sometimes I say that to protect you, not other people. The way you are, it's a gift, but I know it takes a toll on you to be around so much grief all the time. I know you can't help feeling what those around you feel, and I don't want you to have to go through life living with others' anger and pain and unhappiness. You deserve better than that. You deserve happiness, Namid."

It was one of the longest speeches I'd heard Ken string together in the decade I've known him. He's a caring soul, but he spends more time listening than talking. It was also probably the most he'd said about my abilities since our first year together. He's the only one who knows about me. While he's accepted me from the moment we met, it's still not something we ever really talk about outside of the few times he's made sure I know that he accepts me no matter what.

He was quiet as we cleaned up dinner, and if I couldn't feel the sadness radiating from him, I'd probably have thought he'd just used up all of his words for the day. I was quiet, too, as I thought about the way he'd spoken about me. The way he said that I deserve happiness. Does he think I'm not happy here with him?

I thought about the man I now know is named Jayce. About the way he felt one breath away from drowning when I'd seen him last and about him trying to run a business with only half of a partnership, only half of a soul. I thought about Jayce as I headed back to my small cabin. As I brushed my teeth and put on my flannel pajamas, I remembered the flood of helplessness and devastation that had rushed through me when his fingers brushed across mine beneath the folds of his worn leather jacket .

Shifting away from the warmth of the fireplace, I wrap myself tighter in my blanket. I grab another from the back of the couch as I make my way toward the door, wrapping it around me as well. It's a clear night, the first in more than a week. It's mid-April now, and the brilliant swirls of jade and magenta and azure and violet that fill the inky void during the winter months as charged electrons thrown from distant solar storms collide with oxygen and nitrogen in the atmosphere are starting to fade away. Soon, the thousands of blinking lights on their bed of velvet will be alone in the sky. I lie on my back on the small wooden porch and watch my breath rise in dense clouds that hover between my body and the silent wilderness that surrounds me. I watch the universe slowly spin past, and I remember what he felt like.