Adam blew out a breath. “Okay.” He looked around, then decided to head for the kitchen first. John followed him but stood back as Adam picked a drawer at random and yanked it open.
Or tried to do so. Adam laughed as he struggled to get the drawer to pull all the way out, the sheer mass of stuff crammed in there making it catch and stick. He finally maneuvered the contents enough and began to dig through them, shaking his head.
“Shit,” he whispered, holding up three sets of measuring spoons. “Pretty sure I've got another one of these somewhere else.”
John walked over to another drawer, opened it, and pulled something out. “These?”
Adam laughed. “Yeah.” He quickly glanced at all four sets, then took the three in his hands and tossed them onto the peninsula counter. Adam blinked.Huh. That was easy. He went back to the drawer and grabbed something else. Adam laughed again. “I don't even know why I bought this. I've literally never used it.” He tossed it beside the measuring spoons.
He reached back into the drawer and pulled out an old spatula. There were probably a dozen more scattered about the kitchen—in fact, he was sure of it—but this one made him suck in a breath when he considered parting with it.
John strode right over and gently pressed down on his hand. “Put it back,” he murmured.
Adam slowly shook his head, trying to make himself let it go. “It's just a spatula.”
“Clearly not,” John said gently. “What does it mean to you?”
Adam swallowed hard. “It was Dad's favorite. He used this when he made me pancakes when I was a little kid. I still use it when I make breakfast on my days off.” Adam rolled his eyes. “When I had days off. Shit. Guess all my days will be off now, huh?”
John gave him a wry smile, then pushed on his hand again, making Adam put the spatula back in the drawer before resting a hand on Adam's belly. “That gut-punch you felt? When you thought about parting with it? Remember that. As you're going through things, if you feel that, put the thing back. You can always change your mind later. But if you get rid of it now, there's no getting it back. But if you pick something up and don't feel that sensation, then you'll know it's safe to let it go.” John paused. “Provided it's a thing you don't actually use. I wouldn't recommend getting rid of all the silverware just because it has no sentimental value.”
Adam laughed again, feeling a knot loosen inside his chest. “Okay.” He went back to the drawer, working around Dad's spatula as he sorted through the rest of the items. By the time he was finished, the drawer had been emptied by half.
And Adam felt ten pounds lighter.
“Shit,” he gasped. “I wish I'd done this years ago. And that was just one drawer.”
John smiled. “Just wait until you get through the rest of it. But you don't have to do it all in one day. In fact, it's better if you don't. Start slowly, one space at a time, and build up from there.”
Adam nodded, trusting John's word. Especially since he already felt the itch to do more. He even thought of a few things in that third bedroom that he was ready to part with, knowing they wouldn't give him that gut-wrenching sensation like thespatula had done. All the boxes of Dad's business records, for starters. Adam had zero use for those, and nine years was well past the threshold for keeping records for tax purposes. Then there were the boxes of Dad's clothes. The thought of that one stung a little, but when Adam really considered it, there was no point in keeping them anymore. He couldn't wear them, and what use were they, sitting in boxes all this time when they could go to a donation center instead?
Still, John was right. He'd have to take this whole process one box or drawer at a time.
“Maybe just the kitchen today?” he asked, following John's order to start with his own things first.
John gave him a squeeze. “You've got it.”
Adam grinned and opened another drawer.
Chapter 17
_________
JOHN
JOHN EYED his phone as he sat at his desk early Monday morning. Adam probably wasn't even awake yet, but John was already bracing himself for a call.
Then again, after Adam's meltdown on Friday, the weekend had gone amazingly well. Adam went through the entire kitchen at his apartment on Saturday, setting aside all the things he neither wanted nor needed. Around lunchtime, with the counters littered with stuff, they decided to go out to eat rather than trying to cook amongst all that mess, and on the way back, John swung into a home improvement store and bought a stack of small moving boxes. They'd spent Saturday evening packing all the items into the boxes after letting Haven pick out anything he wanted to take with him when he moved in with Theo.
The boxes now sat in a neat stack against the wall in Adam's dining room, the empty boxes leaning beside them, waiting to be filled. One of these days, John would have to take a couple hours off work so he could load the boxes into his truck and run down to the donation center, since they weren't open on the weekends, but it would be worth it. Adam had barely made a dent in downsizing—and hadn't yet let go of any of his dad's things—butthe weight off his shoulders was already obvious. John couldn't wait to see more of that.
Couldn't wait to see his boy free.
John stayed the night again on Saturday, sleeping just as poorly as he had the night before. No matter how many times he told himself that Frank wasn't there, it didn't matter. John still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched and accused.
But seeing Adam wake up with a smile on his face had been worth it, though it didn't make it any easier. John had known he was going to need a break to regroup, no matter how short, so he could focus on what Adam needed. So, after breakfast on Sunday, John announced he was going to run home for a couple hours to get his chores and grocery shopping done, then asked Adam if he wanted to be dropped off at his car on the way, since it was still parked downtown.
Adam immediately shut down that idea. His apartment wasn't within walking distance of any liquor or grocery stores, and he didn't yet trust himself not to backslide in John's absence.
