The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(30)

If Will was an entitled cat belly-up in a puddle of sunshine, James was a stray out in the rain. Not the alpha male, but the omega. His desire to be included and accepted made him try too hard. His jokes were always slightly too loud, his joviality a little too forced. His good moods had a touch of mania to them while his downswings were wretched. If he felt the least bit rejected he plummeted into morose, passive-aggressive silence. He reminded Erik of nothing more than a lonesome dog trying a gamut of attention-seeking tricks, a ball in the lap or a muzzle on the knee, content with any scrap given and crushed when it was taken away.

James’s heart was in the right place, Erik thought. But along the way, his heart had somehow been damaged, leaving James an empty, aching vessel. And Will could fill it with a single word, or crack it into pieces with a word withheld.





Penny


When alone with just Erik and David, James wasn’t flamboyant or flirtatious. But he still seemed embarrassingly grateful to be included in their company, even if they were only sitting around playing video games at Erik and Will’s place. They had moved off-campus, choosing to rent in a quaint, slightly run-down residential neighborhood marked by narrow, two-story houses. Their place was on Colby Street, while Daisy and Lucky’s little house was on the adjacent Jay Street. The two backyards bumped together, divided by a hedge.

David had his own place around the corner. James was in a dorm but spent as little time there as possible. “My roommate’s such a douche,” he said. “I gotta find new digs before I shoot the guy.”

They were sitting around one September night. The Nintendo was broken—fingers of blame pointing in all directions but Erik suspected David had thrown it across the room in a fit of poor sportsmanship. Erik was taking it apart on the coffee table. Not to fix it. Just to tinker. It had been a long week. His schedule this semester was heavy with academic classes—statistics, especially, was a bear. Now his tired brain needed the meditative zone working with his hands always brought.

Will was at judo class. David was sketching set designs for the fall production of Death of a Salesman. James wasn’t doing anything, just sitting and watching Erik, so intent it was unnerving. But he stayed unusually quiet, and after a while Erik forgot about him. Piece by piece he took the console apart, lining everything up in careful order on the table. “Leave it,” he murmured when James reached to fiddle with something. James withdrew his hand. The gesture was so immediate and obedient, his expression so rapt and kid brother-ish Erik felt a surge of liking for the guy, mixed with the quiet pleasure of being admired.

“How do you know what you’re doing?” James asked.

“I don’t.”

“You’re just taking it apart for pure enjoyment.”

Erik smiled a little. “I like to,” he said.

James lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Erik, who shook his head. “My brothers do shit like this all the time,” James said. “But with cars. They’ll take an engine apart and put it together. Just for kicks.”

“How many brothers you have?”

“Three. All older.”

“Any of them dance?”

“Shit, no. My brothers are just like my father. They like sports, they like hunting, they like cars. Then there’s me. Their personal embarrassment. They used to tease me about being adopted except I prayed for it to be true. I’d have fantasies there’d be a knock at the door and it would be my real parents come back to claim me.”

Erik smiled, not knowing what to say. He bent his head back over his project, whistling through his teeth. He gave a start when James reached a finger to touch his necklace.

“This is cool. What’s it about?”

Erik told him its history, explained each of the charms. When he was finished, James sat back, looking thoughtful. He drew from the neck of his shirt a silver ball chain. From it dangled a set of dog tags and a copper pendant. He drew it over his head and handed it to Erik.

Erik put down his screwdriver and took the necklace carefully, knowing a talisman when he saw one. The dog tags were stamped KORODOWSKI, MARGARET C.

“My sister,” James said.

“Korodowski?”

“My real last name. I use Dow for the stage.”

Erik nodded. He looked closer at the copper pendant. It was a flattened penny.

“We called her Penny,” James said. “My mom had three boys and always wanted a daughter. My father said one would eventually turn up. Like a bad penny. And she did turn up. With me.”

David had come over and was looking at the tags. “You’re twins?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened?” Erik asked quietly.

“She was in the 14th Quartermaster Detachment,” James said. “They were deployed to Saudi Arabia last February. They were only there six days and a scud missile destroyed the barracks.”

“I remember seeing the story on the news,” David said. “I had no idea your sister was… Dude, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik said. “That’s horrible.”

James took the chain back from David and put it over his head.

“Is it why you transferred here?” David asked.

James lit another cigarette. “My mom went off the deep end. Penny was her baby. She was everyone’s baby but for Mom she was…” James sighed, exhaling the smoke through his nose. “Mom was always fragile. Meek. Put on earth to serve my father and my brothers. Penny died and something in Mom just turned off. Went out.”