Page 19 of Liberating Love

“Not you, but… I knew him when I was a kid, A. That’s just… sick.”

“Even you can admit that he’s sexy with all those muscles.”

His nose wrinkles further. “Please stop.”

I chuckle, then sober and say, “Thanks for being cool about this.”

He sighs. “Thanks for not going into details.”

My laugh turns into a groan, and I cover my face with my hands. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Drix doesn’t answer me or offer advice, but I don’t expect him to. He sits in there with me, letting me groan and complain until our shifts starts, and having him there, having a friend, is enough for now.

Right before he walks in the opposite direction as me, he says, “Call Gavin and Holds, or I’ll sic them on you this weekend.”

I snort. “Okay, I will.”

He pats my shoulder and walks away. Yeah, having a friend helps.

7

Delaney

Ipause apprehensively with my hand on the door to Jack’s. Dwayne asked me to meet him here for lunch, and as good as it was to catch up with him, I’m a little worried about coming to this particular pizzeria. If there’s a place I can possibly run into people from my past, it’s here, where the owner, Jack Jr., is someone I grew up with. Taking a deep breath, I pull the handle and walk in. The smell of garlic and fresh baked bread waft up my nose immediately. Memories of my teenage years flip through my mind as Papa Jack beams from behind the counter. “Delaney Fox. Get over here, boy.”

Papa Jack is… well, old now with weathered skin and he appears even shorter. When we were kids, he’d been Papa Jack—not to his face, though. We all knew to show respect to our elders. “Um, hi, Mr. Delgado.” I approach the counter with my hand outstretched to shake his wrinkled, age-speckled one, still feeling uncertain.

Papa Jack takes my hand, holding it warmly between both of his. “Look how big you are.”

I glance down self-consciously, shrugging. “Uh, yeah. I had a lot of free time to work out the last several years.”

When he squeezes my hand, I lift my gaze back up to meet his. “I meant that you’re a man now, not that kid who used to play with my son.” He stops, then continues, “You keep your eyes up, Delaney Fox. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Anyone who knows you,really knows you, knows you’re a good boy.” Before I can answer, thank him or… figure out how to respond to that, he nods his head toward the back of the pizzeria. “Go on, you have some friends waiting for you. I came in today to make a special lunch.”

“It was good to see you, Mr. Delgado.”

The little man steps back with a smug grin. “Mr. Delgado? Huh. You kids think I didn’t know you called me Papa Jack to make fun of me and Jack Jr.? Get outta here.” I bark out a laugh, as he tips his head toward the dining room again, and says, “Go on.”

The place has changed over the years, more modern, reflecting the change of time. As I round the corner to the section of the dining room you can’t see from the front counter, memories overtake me, again. Thoughts are flooding in of Jack, Dwayne, Chet, and I as we hid in the back booths, playing with our army men as little guys, to playing cards as we got older and cooler and finally, to swapping stories about the hottest girls. Then the years genuinely fall away as I see those very men sitting at a table laughing.

Jack Jr. sees me first. “Foxy!” He hefts his bulk out of his seat with ease and is on me before I can take two more steps. We’re the taller of the four of us, him having gotten rounder with age, where I’ve bulked up during my time in prison, so we’re an even match as he pulls me into what literally feels like a bear hug, pounding me on the back several times as he says, “Foxy,” over and over.

“How you doing, Jack?” I ask as I pull back to get a good look at my childhood friend.

He grabs me around the back of the neck with one hand. “Good, good. You’re a sight for sore eyes. I’m glad you’re here.” He tugs me in for one more brisk hug, then lets me go with another clap on my back.

As he turns to lead me to the table, Dwayne meets us halfway, giving me a side-hug while shaking my hand. “Glad you could make it, Foxy. This’ll be just like old times.”

“Yeah…” I trail off as Chet stands. Chet’s tremulous smile wavers on his lips, breaking off the nerves I’d been feeling all day.

Without hesitation, I break away from Dwayne and stride to Chet’s side, gathering his smaller form up into my arms and pulling him up onto his tip-toes as he wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds on tightly. “Laney.” His voice comes out softly on a sob.

I tuck my head into his neck. “Chet,” I whisper. After several moments, I force myself to loosen my hold and pull back, holding both his hands in mine between us. “Wow, Chet. You look great.” And he does. Gone is the timid teenager who was scared of his shadow, terrified that someone would figure out that he really was gay and the taunts that had followed him since middle school, once confirmed, would escalate into violence. In front of me is a man who is fabulously flamboyant, secure in himself and who he is. My gaze travels down his body, taking in his highlighted shoulder-length hair, beautiful teal-lined brown eyes, matching the trim fit teal pants he’s wearing and the whole look offset by the shimmery ivory blouse he has on. After all those years of watching him cower in fear, a lump lodges in my throat witnessing him living his authentic self.

His face flushes, making him look even lovelier. “Thank you. It’s so, so good to see you, Laney.”

Jack’s booming laughter breaks our reunion, so I walk around and pull Chet’s chair back out for him, pushing him in once he’s seated and walking around to the vacant chair across from him at the four-seater. “I can’t believe you’re all here.”

Dwayne says, “I wanted to surprise you.”

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