Page 29 of Lakeside Little
Jack was a beacon. Jack was sweetness boiled down to a single droplet I could take on my tongue and reel in the bliss he provided me.
We sat at the dining table and ate the homemade pizzas. After asking him to be my boyfriend, I think he’d forgotten about the goat’s cheese on the pizza because he devoured half of the teddy bear head before squeezing the life out of a juice box into his mouth.
“Is it good?”
“Amazing. You can fix thing and make food, I’m ready to make you two bracelets,” he said.
“I’ll be happy with one, but sure.”
“Well, the first would sayJack’sand the second would say,Daddy, so when they’re together, people know you’re already claimed,” he said, taking deep breathes after inhaling both food and drink.
I could accept that, and in fact, I really liked the idea. “And you’ve got to have one as well,” I told him. “But maybe mine would be best suited as a necklace. I want mine to sayproperty of Daddyon it.”
“I’m not sure if I have all those letter beads, or the bead kit, but I can—” He pushed out of his chair.
“Finish the pizza first. You worked hard on this. You gotta eat it.”
He nodded. “You’re right. My stomach even thinks yours looks good, and I know it’s not.”
I had a little regret about adding the pineapple to mine, especially since it was heart-shaped and it would’ve been cute to share with him.
After pizza, it turned out, he did have his bead kit with him. It was a small plastic chest of small compartments full of neon colors and white letter beads. We cleaned away the mess and plates, a condition of being a good boy meant Jack needed to help, and while part of me wondered if I was just being a nag, I saw the glitter of joy there when he was commanded to do something with his cute, pouty smile saying. “Yes, Daddy.”
He made my bracelets, two of them as he said, and I got to work on a necklace for him. And while, I had a great many skills under my belt, I was not equipped to deal with how finicky threading the wire through the holes in the beads. This was one of those times when an instruction wasn’t going to help, and it wasn’t even needed. It was simple.
“Maybe my petite hands can help,” he giggled, although they were only a touch smaller than mine. “Also, I think you’ve got to add more beads in to make it symmetrical.”
“But I want to make it for you.”
“You made the pizzas, let me make this for you, for me,” he said. “Plus, I want it to have staying power. I don’t want it to break. That would be a very bad sign.”
“What would it mean?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to say because I don’t want to manifest it.”
It was sweet. I knew exactly what it would’ve been a sign of, and he wasn’t the only person in my life that was superstitious of stuff like that. I grew up in a family full of superstitious people, and even now, I still threw a small pinch of salt over my shoulder and avoided cracks in sidewalk paving slabs.
We laid around together, enjoying the company we got to keep in this gorgeous town. The rushing realization that it wasn’t going to be this way forever had me trying my best to think about anything else, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do that when life was about to get very real the moment, I left this place.
“I think one of the beauties of my work is that I’m my own boss and I can come visit you whenever I want,” Jack said laid on my chest while he dressed his doll in different clothes. They had more selection of clothes than me, but I don’t think I would’ve fit into the glittery skirt, let alone fit on my finger.
“And I’ll visit you,” I said. “I’ve got to.”
“Yeah, you do. I need my doll castle built.”
“And it will be done.”
“Are you going to create a catalogue like my cousin’s husband?”
It was an idea, and I’d been confident about it at the time, but now, that confidence waned, and I wondered if I should’ve just recouped and found another job. I didn’t want to worry about consistent pay or work, especially since there was so much good now happening in my life. “Maybe part-time,” I said, combing my fingers through his hair. “It’ll take a while for it to get set up and businesses aren’t always—”
“Don’t say that,” he said, swinging into motion. He turned and practically sat on my chest. “You’re going to have so much business, like, right away. And that’s just from me; you’ll have even more when I tell all my followers about you.”
I could never ask him to do that for me. I didn’t want it to be a case of me using him, because that’s what it felt like when I was reasoning with it in my mind. And then that voice was slapped away with one of his kisses.
“That’s one of the things about older guys, you always feel like you’ve got to be hard at work on something,” he said, giving me another kiss. “And you can give yourself permission to relax and even play with me.”
Cradling his face in my hands, I loved the idea of relaxing with him and playing, but he was right, I felt an overwhelming sense to be doing something. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m sitting on my hands while the world crumbles,” he said. “And now, my hands are on you, and everything is right in the world.”
