He’d even splurged and ordered pizza tonight because he had a coupon for it, and they could eat off it for two days. It meant delaying going to the grocery store. He had oatmeal and Pop-Tarts and bananas for them for breakfast, granola bars for him for lunch. He’d brought all the non-perishables from Pennsylvania. He could make them soup and rice, they had fruit cocktail and canned tuna fish. They could get by without grocery shopping until his direct deposit hit the bank.
He opened his phone and noticed an alert for a new Facebook message. He reluctantly tapped the app’s icon because he rarely received private messages. The ones he did were usually from Cameron’s parents or other family. Although since the restraining order those had stopped.
His reluctance immediately transformed to a rush of delight when he recognized the sender’s name.
Dox!
His delight was immediately replaced by shame that he hadn’t stayed in touch with his best friend. Instead of replying immediately, he scrolled through Maddox’s timeline, his pictures. Apparently single, or at least he didn’t have a significant other highlighted on his profile, and living in Sarasota. It seemed like Hank remembered Maddox was living in St. Pete, at one point. Sure enough, when he scrolled far enough back in Maddox’s timeline, he saw where he had been there for a few years. But now he had a house in Sarasota.
Dang.
They’d been tight as teenagers, inseparable for years, all through junior high and high school. If he’d had a brother, it would’ve been Dox.
I wish I’d kept in contact with him.
But Maddox had gone on to college and Hank hadn’t. Hank’s parents had moved. Then his parents died, and he’d struggled with Lois to make ends meet while she finished school and started working, then camehertroubles with Cameron…
His heart twisted a little. He’d never had as good or close a friend as Maddox. It would’ve been too mushy to him back then to admit he loved the guy, but looking back on it as an adult, and having suffered the losses he had…yeah. He’d loved Dox.
He smiled as he remembered some of the things they’d done together as teenagers. Not that they’d ever admit it to anyone else, but they’d jerked off together to porn a few times, they’d beenthatcomfortable around each other.
Hell, he’d never experimented with a guy, but if he ever did, it would’ve been Dox.
After taking another sip of Jack and then setting the water glass on the floor next to his bed, he finally composed a message.
Missed your face, too, dude. You have NO idea how much. Long story. Just saw your message, sorry, and I’m heading to bed. Got back to Sarasota this morning and spent the day unloading all our stuff into the house. Start my new job tomorrow morning. Feel free to text me tomorrow. Let’s get together this week and catch up. Sooner, the better.
And he included his phone number. After sending that, he copied Dox’s number and saved it as a contact in his phone, and even saved Dox’s Facebook profile pic so he could set it as the contact picture for him.
Some of his life’s best memories featured Dox. Before he knew their parents were moving them to Pennsylvania, Hank remembered a time he could picture the two of them together all their lives, best men at each other’s weddings, raising kids together.
Growing into grumpy old men together.
Until life got in the way.
Until heartache and tragedy got in the way.
Until being an adult got in the way.
Hank finished his drink and scrolled through Dox’s pics again, pausing when he reached one that included the two of them as kids. Dox had posted it over five years ago as a Throwback Thursday post, but hadn’t tagged him in it, hadn’t included a caption.
But he remembered that picture, and had a copy of it in one of the boxes stacked in the great room. The two of them helping Dox’s dad work on his car, both of them filthy and grinning. Hank must have been thirteen or fourteen years old.
He’d spent the night at their house, and the two of them stayed up until the early hours of the next morning lying in Dox’s bed and talking.
That was something else he missed—how they couldtalk. Aboutanything. There hadn’t been any topics off-limits between them. Maddox never busted his balls in a bad way, never made him feel self-conscious. Even when Dox had helped him with homework, especially math, which Hank had spectacularly sucked at. Hell, he wouldn’t have passed Algebra his junior year if it hadn’t been for Dox tutoring him. They’d been in the same grade and had a couple of classes together every year, but in math Dox had excelled while Hank struggled to pass.
Hank turned off his lamp—also sitting on the floor, because he’d sold his nightstands—and rolled over after setting several alarms on his phone.
He had an early, busy day tomorrow and couldn’t lie there thinking about a past that was long gone.
He had too much of a future ahead of him now, a daughter to raise, and no one to help him shoulder the burden.
* * * *
It felt too tempting to shut off his alarm the next morning but Hank knew he couldn’t do that. He’d told his new employer he’d be in this morning after getting Jaylene enrolled in school and returning the trailer. Today would mostly be spent handling paperwork at her school and his new job, finding out where to go, meeting supervisors and crew foremen, all that kind of stuff.
He sat up, his body groaning in protest.
