Page 2 of Unwrap Him

Wandering through the reception area, I push open the double-doors, immediately hit with a new wave of heat, and the pungent scent of the grow. We’re in between harvests at the moment, which gives us some downtime for the holiday. But it’s always balmy as hell in here because… ya know. The plants need warmth. At all times.

I own a licensed marijuana grow facility, right here in my hometown of Winthrop. The business took off a few years ago, shortly after it was legalized, and it’s been providing me with a steady stream of income ever since. It’s still a pretty small setup, but only because I like it that way. I keep my operations to a tight-knit group of employees I trust, and truthfully, I have no desire to expand, though I’m sure I could.

I’ve known the guys who work for me since high school. I grew up in this town, for the most part, and now I own a business here, and I live here. I guess that makes me a townie, though I kind of resent that sort of label because I’m not the guy who walks into a bar like Cheers, where everyone knows my name. Maybe they do, but I’d prefer not to be greeted that way.

I keep to myself.

Puttering around the facility, I check on orders, talk with the guys who are still here, and make sure we’re all set to be closed for days. It’s entirely unnecessary for me to even be here right now, but I guess I’m trying to distract myself.

For as much as I always sort of knew things with Leslie wouldn’t stick, getting dumped still sucks. It’s a shot to the ego for sure, and yet another reminder that I’m sailing through my thirties with no hope of doing the normal thing and starting a family.

But the more interesting part is how secretly relieved I am by that fact.

My life isn’t normal. It hasn’t been since I was nineteen and I inherited a two-year-old.

Checking my watch, I find that it’s after five in the evening. Everyone’s itching to go home, which is what I should be doing, too; heading back to our quiet little house to spend yet another Christmas with the only person I have to worry about in this world.

Back in the car and driving slowly over the icy roads, I think about my parents. I don’t think about them often, but the holidays usually bring about these kinds of musings.

An only child to two dope fiends, I emancipated myself legally at seventeen. After that, my friends became my family, and the two best ones I had were Trent and Himla. We grew up together, basically inseparable, in similar familial situations. Which is why when Himla became pregnant, it was never a question as to who would be the baby’s godfather.

Unfortunately, I never anticipated it being a job I’d have to take on only two years later.

I still remember the night I got the call…

Fear crawls up my spine as the sounds of my own cries fill my memories. The shaking in my hands as I held a frightened two-year-old Jesse, whispering to him that everything would be okay, though I was severely unsure of those promises myself.

It’s something you can never prepare for… A loss and an unexpected gift all in one tragic night.

That’s what Leslie doesn’t understand. It could never be a choice.

When it comes to Jesse, nothing else matters.

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