Page 20 of Liberating Love

Jack smirks. “Liar.” Staring me straight in the eye, he says, “We were worried you wouldn’t show up if you knew it was all four of us.”

As much as I want to protest, I can’t. Nodding my head slowly, I admit, “I may not have. I was tempted a million times today to cancel. I didn’t know if…”

“If what?” Chet asks.

“If I’d be welcome here,” I answer honestly.

Jack’s eyes narrow. “You’ve always been welcome here.”

Chet reaches his hand out and grabs mine where it sits on the top of the table. “It’s true, you know? None of us ever wanted to stop talking to you, but when you started dating Francesca and walked away…”

“We knew you had to have your reasons”—I see Chet blanch out of my peripheral—“and we didn’t want to make things worse for you,” says Jack.

Thankfully, I’m saved from responding when Papa Jack arrives at the table with a large plate in each hand and sets them in the center of the table with a flourish.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Jack asks.

“I watched you boys grow up together, and life happens. You all had to go your own ways, do your own things, but you’re here now; the four of you. All of your parents aren’t alive anymore to see this, but we all prayed for the day you’d make your way back to each other, so this is a celebration. I know food, what you like, so eat up. There’s plenty more coming, boys.” He blinks back tears as he turns and shuffles toward the side door while we yell our thanks after him.

Dwayne chuckles as Chet giggles and I focus on the plates in front of us. One is loaded with chicken nuggets with cups of sauces around the rim of the plate, and the other contains French fries smothered in cheese. Our favorites as kids and then middle schoolers. Any tension left in my body flows out, and I enjoy my time with my friends. These men I’ve missed so damn much for over half my life.

After attacking the meal that’s been laid out for us over the last hour, we settle back into our seats with full stomachs and continue to reminisce about our earlier years. We’re chatting about the time Dwayne’s father taught us how to repair the toilet in their downstairs bathroom, and laughing at how frustrated the man got with our off-color humor during the process, when Dwayne says, “That reminds me, Foxy. What’ve you lined up for a job? You have any idea what you wanna do?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a few, but I haven’t found anything yet.” When I see the pity, or maybe it’s sympathy, in their eyes, I continue, “Honestly, I haven’t even tried to apply for anything. Obviously my days of security are over.” Jack Jr. scowls at my attempt at humor, so I shrug. “Guys, seriously, don’t worry about me. I have a little more money in savings, so I’m not in jeopardy of landing on the streets or anything.”

Dwayne scoffs, “Of course not. You’re renting from me, and there’s no way I’d throw your bum ass out on the streets, but…” He waggles his brows at me the same way he did when we were kids and he had a big idea.

“Oh no, what are you thinking?”

Dwayne turns in his chair, leaning his elbow on the table. “First, let me just say this isn’t charity or anything. I have a need and I happen to know that you’re capable of filling it.”

“Uh uh. Stop right there. You’ve already been more than generous with the townhouse. Plus, getting to spend time with you guys”—I swallow past the lump in my throat—“has meant more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Chet lays his arm across the table, hand up, and I reach forward to hold it. “We wanted to be there for your trial, Laney. We were worried it would make it worse for you if we showed up.”

I close my eyes so they can’t see the emotion welling up in me. It would have caused more trouble for me if my friends, the only true ones I’d ever had, had been there.

“Foxy,” Jack says. “Hear Dwayne out. You shut us out once.” My eyes pop open, and as I look at him, he holds both hands up in surrender. “Those were different times. I’m not saying you did the wrong thing, but we were too young to realize we could’ve helped you back then. We should’ve pushed you to tell us what the hell was going on the minute you started spending time with Francesca.”

“It’s not—”

Dwayne cuts me off, saying, “Maybe it was our fault, maybe it wasn’t. There’s nothing any of us can do about what happened over thirty years ago now, but what we can do is be here for each other now. The years have come and gone, but we’re brothers. That’s never changed. Right?”

“Right,” Chet says, squeezing my hand, then letting it go.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Jack says.

Dwayne arches his brow at me and I huff. “Yeah.”

“Then how would you feel about doing maintenance and repairs on my rentals? It’s a bitch finding someone reliable I can trust.”

“I’m not sure how your tenants would feel about an ex-con being in their homes, Dwayne. I appreciate—”

He waves off my concerns. “Nah. I have plumbers and shit I call when the tenants have issues. I don’t mess with any of that. Most of the time I let them deal with it and I just pay the bill. But I’ve accumulated a lot of property over the years, my friend. Enough properties that by the time one is fixed up from the last tenant, a new one becomes vacant and needs to be turned over. That’s the stuff I like to keep in-house with someone I can trust.”

Before I can ask any questions, I hear my son’s voice. “Hey, Dad. I thought that was your voice.”

Looking over my shoulder, I see Jovany striding toward our table with a mortified Aiden following slowly behind. I stand to give my son a hug and hold out my hand to shake Aiden’s. He takes it and drops it quickly, like my hand is on fire, which with the sparks shooting through my hand from the mere touch of his, maybe it is. “What are you guys doing here?” I ask as I sit back down.

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