Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Oh, Jasper…Sutton, I’m so happy for ya both.” Carrie walked over and hugged us, squeezing extra tight, like she could give us enough love for Sherry and Bob too. She’d gotten a bad rap, I thought. She’d done some things that weren’t great, I couldn’t deny that, but she’d been sick. She was an alcoholic, but now she was sober and doing her damnedest to stay that way and live every day the best she could.
“Thank you, Aunt Carrie,” Jasper said. “We appreciate the support. I think we’re gonna head out, though. We’ll keep you posted on where we land. We’ll have you over sometime.”
“I’d like that. The two of you are always welcome at my house, I hope you know that.” She squeezed his hand, a sad downward curl to her lips.
“We know it. I’d appreciate it if ya didn’t say anything to Sammy about this. I wanna talk to him myself,” Jasper added.
“Of course.”
As we headed out, we heard a quiet but firm, “Sherry, what is wrong with you?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jasper
A few days after I told Aunt Carrie about me and Sutton, we ended up heading to Sammy’s place. Things were a little awkward with me and Sutt. Not bad, just…he worried that I was jumping in and doing things I would regret. I’d been so determined to fix things with my folks, and now I was throwing all that out the window. When I’d told Carrie, I knew Dad would be pissed. I was going directly against what he asked, but if he couldn’t even look me in the eyes, why was I still trying to make him happy? Why did I care when he didn’t?
I’d hit my limit, and it felt good even if it was a bit of a struggle too. I wanted my folks to react the way Carrie had. I wanted my family, and that was why Sutton worried. He felt guilty, but it wasn’t his fault. It was theirs.
“We should have called first,” Sutton said as we made our way down the driveway.
“Yeah, why didn’t we do that?” I teased.
He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Because my boyfriend is an idiot?”
“You called me your boyfriend.”
“We’ve done it before. Is there somethin’ else I should say instead?”
“Nope. Just like hearin’ it, is all. And I didn’t call because I’m a bit of a baby, not because I’m an idiot, though I’m that too.” I chuckled.
“No, you’re not, and it’ll be okay. You already told your folks and your aunt about us. This is easier. Sammy’s queer too.”
But both of those two times, I hadn’t planned it. I’d just gone off instinct. Plus, nerves were also warring with remorse when it came to Sammy. I wasn’t just telling him about me and Sutt; I was apologizing for not supporting him the way I should have when I was with a man now too. It felt wrong on every level.
“It’ll be okay,” Sutton reiterated, then reached over and rested a hand on my thigh.
“I know.”
Sammy and Emerson came out of the barn when we arrived, both with their shirts off, sweat glistening on their torsos. They’d clearly been working in there and came out to see who’d shown up.
Emerson was fifteen years older than Sammy, but you couldn’t tell it from how in shape he was. He reached over, held his hand at Sammy’s nape like he was worried Sammy might need his support from something. From me, I guessed.
Sammy just gave me his typical happy-Sammy smile. He saw the world differently from anyone I’d ever known. Life hadn’t been easy on him, but Sammy wasn’t bitter. He always looked on the bright side of things.
“This is a surprise,” Sammy said, plucking a T-shirt off a bench and wiping himself down with it. “Everything okay?”
“Yep. I just heard congratulations are in order, and we thought we should come over and give them in person.”
“Yes, sirree, I locked him down,” Sammy joked. Emerson rolled his eyes, but chuckled with the rest of us. “He’s hot. I wasn’t givin’ anyone a chance to steal him away from me.”
If that wasn’t a Sammy Joe reply, I didn’t know what was. He’d been closeted most of his life, had only told us he’s gay when his mama got hurt, and this was the first time I’d seen him since that day, but here he was, joking and being proud of who he was.
I wanted to be more like him.
“As if I’d ever go anywhere.” Emerson wrapped his arm around Sammy’s shoulders, pulled him close, and kissed the top of his sweaty head. “Unless he keeps telling me bad jokes.”
“You love my corny jokes.” Sammy leaned closer to me, whisper-yelling, “It’s how I hooked him.”
He was open and accepting, no questions on why we were there, but it was clear that as nice as Emerson was being, he was a little more cautious. He didn’t want us to do or say anything that would hurt Sammy. He was obviously protective of him.