Wood roughly rubbed his hand across his forehead. He understood that because he already felt as if his chest was going to cave in from the pressure. “I’ll be all right. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice or something. I do need to see you, Brody. I’m not sure I can wait anymore.” Wood startled at the sound of the closet door slamming. Shoot! Trent walked into the kitchen scowling at Wood as if he wanted to strike him.
“Look, Brody, I gotta go, all right.”
“Sure, but if you need me I’ll be at the rec center tonight from eight to midnight.”
“I know.”
“So, I’ll see you soon, Wood.” Brody put it in a way that said he expected Wood to make the time to go to a meeting.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later, maybe,” Wood said quietly, but he could tell by the tenseness of Trent’s shoulders that he’d heard him.
Wood watched as Trent shoved his lunch pail into his duffle bag and yanked it over his head, hauling ass toward the door. “I better get going.”
“Trent, wait.”
Trent stormed out the front door before Wood could explain that call.
Chapter Twenty
Wood
Wood got off the bus on Virginia Beach Boulevard near Laskin Road where the neighborhoods and schools were a lot nicer than in Norfolk. Moving around the seven cities with a damn bus pass hadn’t done anything to improve his mood, especially after having to switch buses three times! One thing that hadn’t changed since he’d been gone was Hampton Roads’ crappy public transportation system. He zipped his thin jean jacket up to his throat in an attempt to block the cold wind whipping at his face as he crossed over the busy four-lane road.
He slowly made his way through the quaint community of two-story homes, not in a hurry to face his past. Seeing Adam and telling him he was sorry was his first stop along his walk of shame. He had no clue if his ex-boyfriend’s mother still lived there or not, but he hoped she did because it was the only address he had. The white house with blue shutters came into view when he got to the last street, and the moment he saw the rocking chair on the wraparound porch, he knew she was still there.
He knocked lightly, then took a couple of steps back from the screen door. He listened for any movement inside or a television maybe, but he heard nothing. He opened the screen to knock again when a young man no older than twenty-five answered and gestured with one finger for him to wait a second as he rapidly tapped at his phone screen. Wood stood silent, then removed his beanie as the kid looked him up and down.
“You don’t look like you’re from Verizon,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m waiting on my tech guy.”
“I’m not your tech guy,” Wood said.
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms over his thin chest. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Ms. Geneva, is she here? I apologize for stopping by unannounced, but I don’t have her number any longer,” Wood said.
The young man stared at him for too long, and Wood wondered if he maybe had the wrong house. He glanced up and down the street, then back at the kid. He could only see one of the guy’s light blue eyes since the right one was covered by his long bang. He widened his stance as much as his skinny jeans would allow and rocked back on his black Converse. “How do you know my grandma?”
Okay. So she has even more protective family than before. The woman was never in short supply. “I was a good friend of—I am a good friend of her son, Adam. I was hoping I could speak to her and maybe get his number or address. I’ve been gone a long time and just got back into town. Is she available?” Wood smiled. “She used to love to watch her stories at noon. She still crazy about General Hospital?”
What he said seemed to help his case as a wistful smile worked its way over the guy’s narrow face. “Yep. She sure did.”
“Did?” Wood said hesitantly.
The young man nodded. “I’m sorry to tell you. My grandma passed away six years ago.”
Wood shot his fist to his mouth and sucked in a sharp breath that almost made him choke as the cold wind hit the back of throat. “Damnit,” Wood gritted out. Another one of the things he was most afraid of. Coming out and realizing all he’d missed. Not only the birthdays, anniversaries, weddings… but even the funerals. Ms. Geneva had believed in him, encouraged him, and fed him after Wood’s own evangelical Christian mom didn’t want any more to do with him.
The kid moved back as if to close the door. “I’m real sorry.”
Before he could disappear, Wood asked, “What about Adam? Is he still in the area?”
The kid squinted his light eye. “I didn’t catch your name?”
If this was Ms. Geneva’s grandson, then he was speaking with one of Adam’s many nephews. He may’ve heard Wood’s name before, but he was kind of young. Hell, he couldn’t lie, and the young man was related to his ex. This was his only chance. He had to get a face-to-face with Adam to apologize and ask for forgiveness. God, he needed forgiveness so badly. “My name is Wood Jr. Me and Adam go way back, got a lotta history.”
“Hmm,” the young man said. “Why don’t you give me your number, and if I see Adam I’ll be sure to pass it along.”
Wood knew he had no choice, and the kid was actually smart. It wasn’t wise to give out anyone’s information to a complete stranger. He reached in his backpack and pulled out his notebook and one of his sketch pencils from the bottom. “I’ll leave my number and my address too. Please tell him…” Wood hesitated. “Please tell him it’s important. He’ll know what you mean.”
“Sure,” the guy said, still not offering his own name, and took the half-torn sheet of paper.
Wood left feeling like that could’ve gone much worse. Though he was heartbroken to hear of Ms. Geneva’s passing, he was glad he was able to at least get a message to Adam. He’d also put the ball in his court to reach out to him, and he prayed he did. Wood walked the half mile to the bus stop to wait for the 34 to take him farther up the boulevard so he could make a zillion more transfers just to get to Chesapeake, a city that was less than twenty minutes away by Uber. But he didn’t have money to waste. He had a perfectly working HRT pass and all day to take this mental ass-whupping.
I can handle it. I got this. Wood bounced his knee continually while he sat on the bench a couple of seats down from another woman. She was lost in whatever she was reading on her phone, so he didn’t bother to speak. He was too busy trying to psych himself up. It was crazy for him to think that his parents would just open their front door and welcome him back inside after all this time, but he had hope. It’s all he had. He’d written tons of letters—though they never responded—and he’d laid his heart out there in each one. He apologized so many times for not being the son they wanted and deserved. Countless times he’d explained his actions in hopes they’d understand, but he never got an answer. Maybe it was too difficult for them to write their only son in prison.
“Hey! You waiting on me, ain’tcha?” the bus driver yelled at him from the wide-open door.
“Shoot!” Wood hurried and leapt up the few steps and quickly swiped his pass. “Sorry. Daydreaming.”