Tied Up in Knotts Ch. 08

I always thought of myself as a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy. I could adapt to any situation, much like a chameleon. Being calm and never buckling under pressure was an attribute I held dearly. An attribute that seemed to be slipping further away with each passing day. Leaving me feeling a little rougher for wear.

Wayne and I stayed up late, discussing work.

I resigned from Yevo. Now I had to wrap things up. I always imagined that if I ever left, I'd finish out the year. That would allow lots of time to find a replacement and transition them in. That wasn't the case. Basically, I resigned on Sunday and would announce it on Monday. Then I was done.

It was the hardest Monday of my life.

I held an emergency meeting with all the volunteers. They couldn't hear this from anyone else, it had to be from me.

They were shocked. There were lots of questions, a few tears, and more questions. I wanted to find a solution, find someone to take over, but Wayne said it was taking care of that and I had to trust him.

Everyone rallied and we came up with a plan. It would be a normal club, we'd do everything just the way we always did except I wouldn't run the show, the volunteers would do everything. That was good, I wasn't sure I had the emotional capacity to do much. At the end, I'd use my time up front to announce I was leaving.

I picked up the kids, like usual. We ate dinner, like usual we played games, like usual.

Except it was nothing like usual. I was barely holding myself together. I loved these kids and now I had to tell them that I was bailing on them. I didn't have a full speech prepared but I did have an outline. I wanted them to know that I would still be around and I'd still support them, but I wouldn't be at club. I wanted to promise I'd be back in one year but I couldn't. It wasn't fair to them or to me to make that commitment.

As the last game wrapped up and upcoming announcements were made, the leaders nodded for me to go up front. It was one of the bigger turn outs. It felt like the room was packed as every eye in the room watched me walk to the front of the room. My heart was racing as I stood there, trying to pretend like I wasn't breaking in two.

"Did you guys know that Youth Evolution Outreach was around when I was in highschool? In fact, I was one of the first student leaders. I loved it, it changed my life. I graduated highschool, studied two years at college before getting hired on staff full time while finishing my degree. The rest is history, so they say. I've always seen myself doing something with Yevo. I can't imagine doing anything else with my life, which is why this is the hardest club talk I've ever had to do."

The kids glanced around the room. They weren't dummies, they knew something big was coming. They might have even known exactly what was coming except it was the last thing they expected.

I could feel the lump building in my throat. "This is my last club," I choked out. The room filled with murmurs. "Every single one of you has impacted my life more than you'll ever know. If I had a fraction of that impact on you, then we're changing the world, one person at a time. If you leave tonight knowing one thing, it's that very little changes. I may not be here on Mondays, but you'll see me around. Most of you have my number and I hope you'll use it—"

The kids started shifting around. They started taking off their sweatshirts and tossing them aside. It took me a minute to realize what was going on. They all had matching shirts. I looked at the volunteers, they were standing in a row, wearing the same shirt that every other person in the room was wearing. It was black with white lettering and said Nash Vision.

Terri and Mark came and stood on either side of me.

"Nash has been a cornerstone for so many of us," Terri said. "Every week he brings us together, encourages us with his words, leads us with his actions, and makes us laugh with his videos. Visa might be everywhere you want to be, but Nash is everywhere you are, without fail. Nash has a vision and that vision includes every single one of you in this room. My question is, what's his vision mean to you?"

David stood up, he grabbed a cardboard sign he'd been sitting on and held it up. It read my broken home.

"When I first met Nash I was in the foster system. Nash's vision for me was that I was worthy of being loved. That was a foriegn concept to me, growing up in a home where I was hit everyday just because I was born. But he was there, at games, at school, giving me rides, encouraging me. He was the only person in my life who cared enough to show up. I don't always believe I'm worthy of being loved but I'm getting there, because Nash showed me."

I wiped my eyes.

David sat down and Jay, Len and Tia's son, stood up with his own sign. My own way.

"I know a lot of people look at me and think that I want for nothing. I was given a nice car, wear brand name clothes, and I'm a decent athlete, but I've always struggled with my family's expectations. They've always been vocal about what they think I should do but it hasn't always lined up with what I think I want to do. Nash's vision for me has always been my own. Time and time again he reminds me that I'm the one that has to live my life, not my parents, not my family. He's even offered to help have hard conversations when the time comes," he looked at me and smiled. "And I'll probably take you up on that when I'm senior."

I couldn't find the words so I gave him a thumbs up.

Kid after kid stood up, holding a sign and telling a story of how I impacted them and what my vision meant to them. So many testimonies.

I cried. I didn't even try not to. It was too authentic to try and downplay the significance of their words. When they finished their presentation we hung out. The mood was somber and sad.

Turned out the leaders had worked tirelessly prepping for club. They found someone to print shirts last minute and then met the kids at lunch and explained that they wanted to do something special for me.

It was late when I got home and I was a total mess. I went to bed crying; sure I'd made a terrible mistake, mad at Lee for stacking the deck against me, and questioning what I'd done in life to deserve everything I was going through. Then there was the guilt for leaving them behind.

Tuesday was a continuation of Monday's guilt plus the dread of all the Mondays to come. Wednesday brought momentary relief. I met with the lady lawyer Chambers had recommended. It wasn't an easy meeting but it gave me some much-needed direction. I left encouraged that I might finally move away from a marriage I was slowly detaching from.

To add a splash of irony, the meeting was Wednesday morning and then I had lunch with Lee. Surprise ending: it didn't go well.

I listened as he quietly ranted about outing our problems to the entire committee, causing problems for Paul and Shayla, and blah blah blah. He said a bunch of crap but I was too busy reading between the lines to pay attention.

"You fucking son-of-a-bitch," I growled. "You're still fucking with Paul."

Lee's eyes went wide. "No, no," he held his hand up. "No."

Articulate for a lawyer.

"Then how the hell do you know all these details?"

"Just because Paul told me doesn't mean anything," he defended.

"The fuck it doesn't," I seethed. "The fact you make me come to counseling while you're still talking to Paul in any capacity is insane. I can't—" I grabbed my jacket and started out of the booth. "I can't even deal with this. Who the fuck are you?"

We didn't do counseling that day and I was in a piss poor mood when I got back to the cottage.

The only thing for me to do was to try and find something in my life that wasn't affected by Lee's infidelity. No job: Lee. No money: Lee. Meeting with a lawyer: Lee. Counseling: Lee. Alone in a home that wasn't my own: Lee. Soon to be divorced, jobless, lying face down on the couch with my arm dangling over the edge as I stared into the grains of the hardwood floor: Lee.

I was a far cry from Nash Cushman of two months ago. The quintessential image of success was no longer my tagline.

My blanket of pitiful silence was broken by the deep rumble of Penn's truck. The engine cut out followed by gravel crunching. The front door squeaked softly as he opened, then closed it behind him. Ten steps across the wood floor was all it took before he saw my pathetic existence splayed over the couch like an unwanted throw.

Penn gently lifted up my head, slipped in, then set my head down on his lap.

"Is this even safe?" I asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Uhm, because you could be covered in human shit," I said matter-of-factly.

Penn laughed. "Nah, I did other things today. No shitters."

"Good. I like ass as much as the next guy but—"

"Fuck," he laughed. "Don't be gross."

"It's not gross when done right. It's actually quite—"

"Nash," he laughed some more. "Stop."

I shrugged and relaxed in his lap. He smelled like man work. Not the gravel and dirt smell I remembered from Ryan's clothes. Penn was more sawdust and power tools. It was oddly therapeutic.

"How'd it go with the lawyer?"

"Good," I flipped onto my back so I could look at Penn while we talked. "I feel better about everything. She seemed competent, sharp even. I'm confident she can hold her own. I'm not looking to screw Lee over or anything. I just don't want to walk away with nothing. She said I'm eligible for spousal support. It makes me feel like a housewife so I doubt I'll go that far. I guess we'll see. On the plus side, there's no waiting period in Oregon. So, unless Lee contests it, it could go quickly."

"Do you think he'll contest it?"

"Hell if I know. I never thought he'd cheat on me, but he did. He lied, cheated, and manipulated. I don't think I'm qualified to make any guesses on his behalf."

"Do you think he was always that person?"

"I fucking hope not. I want to keep what was good between us—good. I don't want to hate all the years we spent together."

"You're a better man than me," he said, twirling his fingers in my hair.

"You're just realizing that?" I smirked. "That's old news."

Penn's fingers tightened in my hair until he was pulling my hair hard enough to hurt a little. He raised his brow, challenging me to continue teasing him.

"I tease, I tease!" I wiggled my body toward him to alleviate the pressure. "You're the man. No one is better than you."

He released my hair and smiled his charming-as-shit smile then resumed petting my hair like he hadn't just tried to rip a chunk out for good luck. It reminded me that I needed a haircut. The problem was, Kelsea, Lee's cousin, was my hairstylist. I wasn't eager to face her. I wasn't even sure if she knew what was happening between us. If she didn't, then that news shouldn't come from me.

I told him about the day, which consisted of Lee freaking out because he was worried that people were going to find out, now that committee knew. He was more concerned about how this would affect him and/or Paul than what I was going through. When he found out that I had told Ryan and Logan, he about shit his pants.

'How am I supposed to face them now? They're my clients for Christ's sake! Why would you do that to me?' Oh, the things I wanted to say back.

"Why would he care that we know? We're not even friends."

"I see your logic but you underestimate Lee. He's had a straight crush Logan since high school. Well, until he got to know you," I winked.

"What does that even mean? Straight crush."

"Exactly what it sounds like. A crush who's straight and out of your league. It's kind of like crushing on a celebrity. A total fantasy but fun to joke about."

"Well I can attest that there is no way Logan or I would have ever gone for Lee," he laughed.

"Never thought you would."

"It explains so much about this last summer."

I nodded. Lee hadn't been subtle in his desire to hang out with the Knotts. Watching him pine over them had never bothered me because it was harmless. Well, supposedly. Now I was questioning everything. Was Paul the only person he slept with?

I hadn't really considered if Lee had slept with more people than Paul. As much as it piqued my curiosity, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know the truth. What would I gain besides more heartbreak?

"Who's yours?" Penn nudged me back to reality. It took a second to recall what he was talking about.

"My straight crush?" Penn nodded. "Oh, no one," I lied.

"Based on your devotion to Lee, I'm inclined to believe you never had an impure thought...but I don't." He teasingly bounced his legs, making my head wobble in his lap.

"I had an impure thought once—maybe twice, but that's it, I swear!"

"Don't I believe it," he paused, watching his fingers toy with my platinum strands. "So, who is it?"

"It's for me to know and you to never find out."

"C'mon," he pouted.

I gave him a serious look. "Can you keep a secret?"

"You know I can."

"So can I."

It took him a beat to realize I'd just told him I wasn't going to spill the secret and, despite his frustration with my silence and the fact he had no clue my straight crush was his brother, he laughed.

"It's fine," he sighed, so dramatically it caught my attention. "According to you, we're best-friends. I always thought best friends told each other everything. I guess I was wrong," he goaded.

"Are you serious right now?" I laughed at his childishness.

He continued to try and look innocent, which he wasn't. When he didn't get his way, he started walking his fingers over the sensitive flesh on my side, much like I'd done to him on Sunday. My natural reflex against being tickled kicked in. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, scrambling away before I embarrassed myself.

I stood, straightened my clothes, and glared at a smirking Penn. I was naturally affectionate and quite enjoyed his playful side. The more we hung out, the more I realized he shared the same love language. There was definitely an innocent flirtatiousness between us.

I may have enjoyed being touchy-feely with him but I had no illusions of him falling in love with me and living happily ever after. Hell no. I was in no place for that kind of thing and Penn was married. I wasn't about to look a gifted horse in the mouth. I was incredibly thankful for our budding friendship and had no intention of doing anything to jeopardize it. I especially had no plan of sinking to Paul's level and messing with someone else's marriage.

"Dinner?" I shouted from the kitchen as I looked between the small fridge and minimally filled pantry.

"Of course," he came and stood next to me, taking stock of the inventory. "What are we making?"

I named off a few options, none of which he seemed overly excited about. We settled on grilled chicken salad.

"Don't you ever crave a big juicy burger?" He asked as he unenthusiastically chopped salad greens.

"I enjoy them but I wouldn't say I crave them." I oiled the pan and seasoned the chicken. "I take it you don't like salad?"

"Sure, as a side dish. It's not what I'd pick for a meal."

"Ahh, too many vegetables?"

"Kind of," he laughed. "My family has always more steak and potato people."

"I'm going to tell you a secret—" He paused his chopping and looked at me, waiting for me to continue. "You're a grown-ass adult, if you don't like what I'm cooking, you can go get a big, juicy Big Mac or something."

"Hey," he said defensively. "I wasn't dogging on your food. I'm just not used to your ratios. I usually have seventy-five percent meat and twenty-five percent everything else. You don't. It's strange to me is all. I'll survive."

I grabbed an extra chicken breast from the fridge. Eating healthy was the byproduct of being an athlete. After years and years of eating healthy, heavy meals like alfredo or anything greasy, made me feel like crap. I still ate them but it was on rare occasions and in moderation.

When everything was finished, I handed him his plate; extra chicken with a side of salad. He glanced between our places and smiled.

"You're a good husband."

His response made me think of Lee. It was hard to feel like a good husband after everything I was going through. "I know," I sighed. Because despite how Lee made me feel, I had been a great husband.

"None of that," he scolded. "Everything happens for a reason and in its own season. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone who will make the life you had with Lee look like Toys R Us child's play."

I nodded and took a bite of dinner so the subject would drop. It wasn't that my life was over at thirty-three. It wasn't that I thought I'd never find love again, but I was realistic, Lincoln wasn't that big. The gay population was scarce at best. What few there were, were either married or complete man-whores, or, in the case of Lee, both. I knew I had a long road of singularity ahead and I was okay with that. I enjoyed my independence. But I knew there was a real chance I wouldn't experience love again and that made me sad.

****

Penn and I stopped making plans. He just showed up at the cottage everyday and we did life together. It was nice. It helped me feel normal.

Saturday, I decided to change things up. I had never been to his place before. He always came to me and it was high time I changed that. I wanted to surprise him so texted Ryan for directions.

His driveway was long and lined with old trees. I was starting to think I'd taken a forestry road instead of a driveway when the trees finally cleared and his truck, which was parked next to a nice travel trailer, came into view.

He was in the middle of construction. The home was only a shell but I could tell it was going to be stunning. It was the country home you saw in magazines down to the wraparound porch.

I followed the sound of power tools until I found Penn running a portable sawmill (because everyone had those, right?). It wasn't a surprise to find him using the tree's he'd cleared from the property to build the house. It was such a Knott thing to do.

His clothes were worn and his shirt was nothing but shreds, showing his muscular arms and waist. He wore his hat backward and safety glasses to protect those browns from sawdust. I watched as his leather-gloved hands guided the wood through the machine with patience and determination.

On the scale of a stereotypical-city-boy whose only knowledge of power tools was watching HGTV, to a rugged man's man who was the definition of a provider, I put myself somewhere in the middle when I compared myself to Lee.

Penn blew the scale. The numbers didn't go that high. He probably set the bar to which all were to be measured.

You must be this tall to ride the ride.

I could've stood there all day and watched him. He was in his zone—completely calm and relaxed like he didn't have a care in the world. I was almost sad when he finally finished the cut and turned off the machine. Then he saw me. There were no words to describe the moment. His whole body radiated joy; from the brightness in his eyes to his oversized smile and barely-there dimples.

He used his hands to shake the sawdust from his hair and walked toward me. "To what do I owe this surprise?" He said, pulling me into one of the famous hugs I'd become accustomed to.

"What? You show up unannounced every day. It's about time we balance the score."

"It's not unannounced if you know I'm coming," he laughed. "And I'm not complaining."

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere until you show me around."

"Sounds good," he looked me over. "You got a little—" he waved his hand at my entire chest. I looked down to find I was covered in sawdust. He looked pleased with himself as I dusted myself off.

The inside was nothing but studded walls. He explained what everything was. A bedroom here, a bathroom there, living room and kitchen between. He was hoping to have it weatherproofed before the weather turned so he could spend the winter working inside. I tried to track what he was saying but I lacked the experience to see past the two-by-fours.