Page 17 of To Save Him

Oh, what was there not to love about this boy?

And Ihadto stopthat.  Brandon wasn’t a boy, even though he was about Gabe’s age.  I got the feeling that he was a couple of years older than my oldest son, but it didn’t stop the fact that we probably had a couple of decades of time between us.  Even if he wasn’t technically aboy, I was most certainly his senior.

Maybe I wouldn’t need to sublimate if I could instead dampen my boisterous spirit.

I double checked that I had the house key wrapped around my wrist and then pulled the door open.  As soon as the air hit my face, I gulped down a deep breath.  The breeze felt so fresh and clean and cool—absolutely perfect.  As though my thoughts echoed aloud, Brandon seemed to respond when he said, “It’s beautiful out here.”

“It is, isn’t it?”  He followed by my side as we walked down the path through my front yard, seeing the edge of grass along the walking stones.  That reminded me of how much I hated mowing and that could possibly be another task I could hand over to Brandon.  JR was probably old enough now to start doing it, but I tended to worry more about my son (albeit unnecessarily) now that I’d lost his brother.

I turned to the left.  I took different routes on occasion, depending on my mood, but I was going to take my favorite since I had company.  It was about two miles and I’d be home in time to make sure the kids were up and at ‘em.  Part of our walk would be along a path constructed by some of the folks living in this secluded area out of town—it was merely a path of crushed stone that followed the road but kept walkers and bicyclists safe along the county road.  My favorite part was on the way back, though, where I walked along the border of a neighbor’s property.  This particular neighbor had a creek running through his place that fed a pond, and later in the spring I knew I’d see visiting geese gracing the water.  Now, though, I could possibly see deer and one time I saw a coyote.  Bunnies, too.  There were lots of rabbits along my walks.  And, of course, the ubiquitous song birds.  Even in the winter there were a few to be found.  This time of year, near the end of my walk, the sun would be making the sky lighter even though it wasn’t over the horizon yet, and I’d be able to enjoy the sights of the water through the dim light.

For now, though, we had a few minutes before we’d get to the walking path.

Brandon kept up just fine, and I hadn’t expected otherwise, since he’d been planning to jog instead.  It begged a question, though, and one that I wasn’t going to ask.  I wondered if he had been planning to run on his own or if he’d known I exercised outside the house every morning.

No, surely that wasn’t it.  He hadn’t been in my house long enough to have figured that one out.  Based on his physique, I knew he had to exercise.  That much was apparent.

There were no houses around, and even the occasional one we would pass was far enough back from the road that conversation wouldn’t wake up the sleeping families.  A dog hearing us might get the notion to announce our presence, but—other than that—talking was fine.  I would have been content with silence too, though, because the air, nature, the universe sometimes demanded it.

But, after several minutes of hearing nothing other than our feet against the asphalt, Brandon asked, “You walk every morning?”

I nodded, wondering if he could see the motion in the dim light.  Out there, the street lamps were few and far between, usually in front of houses, but because I could see the outline of his head, I had to assume he could see mine as well.  “Monday through Friday and sometimes on weekends.”  As if reaffirming it to myself, I added, “It’s a good habit.”

“Yeah.”  His voice was soft and hearing it made me smile.  After several steps in silence again, he said, echoing his earlier sentiment, “It’s nice out here.”

“It really is, isn’t it?  I could go later in the day but no one’s out here right now.  That’s one of the reasons why I love it.”

“I can see why.”

I took in a deep breath as we kept up the brisk pace.  I’d been taking my morning walks for so long now that my calves no longer burned, nor did I break out in a sweat or find myself breathless or tired at the end of the walk.

I turned so we could begin walking on the crushed stone path, surrounded by native plant life.  I didn’t know the names of any of the indigenous plant life, but being surrounded by it always brought me serenity.  I couldn’t quite explain why, but it was the reason I continued walking after all these years.  Routine helped me, yes, but nature had a calming, soothing effect on my nerves that I doubted even Xanax could touch.

At about the halfway point of our walk, I turned and began walking back down the road that would take us near the pond I’d grown to love so much.  I could still hear several birds in the distance, perched on some budding trees I couldn’t make out from where we were, but only that and the sounds of our feet making contact with the gravel broke the silence.

Until Brandon talked.

His voice was soft, unassuming, and sweet when he said, “I’m about halfway through your book.”

Of all the things I would have expected him to say, that wasn’t it.  I’d almost even forgotten that I’d let him take the book to read, when it really should have been at the top of my mind.  I felt a lump in my throat when I asked, “Oh?”  I was afraid to say any more.

“Yeah.  And I guess Ilikesteamy.”

Part of me wanted to chuckle while another part of me wanted to break out into a sprint until I reached the pond so I could jump in and hide.  The rest of me, though? Curious as hell.  “Yes?”

“Yeah.  I guess I didn’t know what to expect.  And the storyline’s a little disturbing, just because what the daughter’s going through, and it took me a little bit to realize that the daughter’s story isn’t the main story but instead kind of a way to see how the main character handles things.”

I swallowed.  “Hold on a second.  You’re describingMother Lode.  I thought you were readingSmolder.”

I could hear the smile in his voice.  “I took them both.  I finishedSmolderin just a couple of hours so I startedMother Lode.”

I felt a little excited that he was tearing through my writing but, more than that, I was impressed with his thoughts about my more serious book.  Brandon might not have had a lot of schooling, but his literary analysis skills were right on target.  “The story being about the mom—that was what I was going for…that, even though her daughter is going through a hard time in her life, the point is that the main character is in a crucible—and will the fire make or break her?”

Brandon nodded but kept quiet for a few moments, deep in thought.  After several yards, I just figured that was it, and part of me felt relieved that there were no awkward conversations to muddle through.  I most certainly hadn’t anticipated what Brandon would say next.  “Um…and I’m sorry if I broke any rules, but I went in your office last night after everyone was in bed.  I promise I didn’t mess anything up, but I was looking through all your books.  There was a big one.  It was called—”

“Captive?”  Oh.  My.  God. He didn’t.

“Yeah,Captive.  I was curious, because it was huge, even bigger thanMother Lode.  And you’d said your writing was callederotic romance, right?  SoSmolderfit the bill, but there wasn’t anything too crazy inMother Lode.  Don’t get me wrong.  I was enjoying it, but I wondered what would make you say your books weresteamybut notporn. Smolderwasn’t too bad, so I was just curious.”  I swallowed. Mother Lodewas pretty tame, and I was comfortable with him reading it, and the reason why I wasn’t too concerned aboutSmolderwas that it was hot but short. Captive, though?  Jesus.  It was almost the exact opposite.  It was long and it was beyond steamy.  It was fucking hot and I could feel myself blushing just thinking about this young man reading some of the sex scenes in the book.  It was a huge book and so, accordingly, there were a proportionate number of steamy encounters inside those pages.  I heard him clear his throat as if making a point.  “So I started reading that one last night.”

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