You Can't Go Home Again

Joel's grandmother invited us to stay for dinner. He really didn't want to, I could tell, but he acquiesced if only to help smooth things over. "You know I would have loaned you the money," she told him of his comic purchase. "I always keep emergency money here in the house."

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I'll never do it again. I promise."

She heated leftovers, but it was Boston Butt, potatoes, and carrots, so it was a fine meal to be had. She would have kept us there all night if we let her, but I was ready to go, and I know Joel was as well, so I reminded him in front of her that I needed to get back home. She hugged him, and even me, and then we were off.

Once back at Joel's place, he said, "Look, about earlier ..."

"We don't make anything of it, remember?"

"Well, maybe I want to make something of it," he said as he took my hand and led me to his bedroom. We removed our clothes, then I lay on the bed and he crawled on top of me. We began to kiss. We each reached out a hand and began to slowly massage the other's penis. "What would you like?" he asked softly.

"Another sixty-nine?" I proposed.

He turned. His mouth took possession of my cock just moments before his cock invaded my mouth. We sucked each other slowly, sweetly, lovingly, neither of us in a rush to cum or make the other cum. It did finally happen, though, for both of us, and it was wonderful.

We lay at the head of the bed in silence. Finally, he said, "I can't say what I want to say, but you know it, don't you?"

I smiled as I turned and lay a hand across his chest. "I love you, too."

I thought I would have heard from Joel the following day, but he didn't call or text me like he normally did. I made my way to his apartment after work to find the door wide open and an older man inside, the same man who pushed past me yesterday. "Uh, excuse me? Mr. Herndon?"

"Do I know you?" he asked crossly.

"We kind of met yesterday," I said as I entered the apartment. "My name is Will, sir. Will Saddler. I'm a friend of Joel's."

"Well, Joel doesn't live here anymore," he said. "As of oh-nine hundred hours he is a Marine."

"You mean ... He left already?"

"I put him on the bus myself," Mr. Herndon said as he looked around the apartment. "I have half a mind to just let all this shit stay here."

"No!" I screamed, for my immediate thought was Joel's stash. "That is, why not put it in storage and make him pay the storage fee? I mean, he'll need his furniture and what not when he gets assigned to a base, won't he?"

"I suppose you're right," he said. "This stuff is practically brand new." He thought some more on it, then said, "To hell with those damned funny books, though. I've a good mind to sell them off to pay for his grandmother's debt."

"I'll take them," I said. "I'll hold them until he returns."

"You know what? Just keep 'em. My gift to you. I'll even help you load 'em into your car." He actually had to load over half into his Escalade and follow me to my house. At least I was able to ensure their safety.

I waited for Joel to call or write, but when he hadn't by the third week, I had to assume that he didn't know how to reach me. I mean, do we really memorize phone numbers, or do we just store them and speed dial? It is the latter, of course. I thought to go see his grandma, but I couldn't remember precisely where she lived, and I certainly didn't know where his folks lived. For all intents and purposes, I was shit out of luck.

By week six I was miserable. I couldn't go through a day without thinking of Joel, if I'd ever see him again, if we'd ever share ourselves with each other again. I remember telling him that I loved him, and his inability to tell me. Sometimes I cried for him, and others I cried for myself. I had thrown myself in the dirt, but by week twelve I decided it was time to dig myself out.

I applied for student loans and would begin going to college in the fall; I sure as hell didn't want to manage that damned convenience store the rest of my life. I wanted to make a clean break of it, but I had a paid vacation coming up, so I put in for it and was approved. I treated myself to Comicon, of all places, and I was blown away. It was probably the only chance I would ever get to go, but at least I could scratch it off my bucket list. I returned home and gave my two weeks' notice. My supervisor tried to lure me to stay with a raise—seventy-five more dollars a week—but I told her that I just needed to do this, college, for myself. She said she understood and left the door open if I ever wished to return.

With exception to my phone getting stolen while at Comicon, things had begun to look up for me. When I bought my new phone, I kept the new number. The old one was something else I was ready to leave behind.

A week before school began, I was back in the comic shop. I had just walked through the door when Wes said, "Hey, Will, I finally got copies of Tomb of Dracula #44 and Dr. Strange #14."

Before I could respond, I heard a voice behind me say, "Dude, those are literally the only two comics I need to finish out my Tomb of Dracula collection." I turned to see a very pretty young lady standing next to the new arrivals. She stood about five-four, had long, dirty-blonde hair, was small-framed, and about one of the most beautiful women I had ever lain my eyes upon. I burst into laughter. "What's so funny?"

"I used those exact same words in here about six months ago in reference to some Marvel Team-Ups," I told her.

"Did you get them?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Does that mean I'll get those?" she asked with a wide smile as she stepped toward me.

"No," I answered with another, smaller laugh.

"Let me take you out to dinner and we'll talk about it," she offered.

"Are you serious?"

"Yup. What do you say?"

"Sure. Why not?" I asked. I figured it was time for me to get back into the real world, and this might just be my ticket there. "When?"

"Let's go now," she said.

I checked the clock on the wall. It read 5:47. "Okay. Where do you want to go?"

"There's a Panda Express right around the corner," she said. "You up for that?"

"Sure. Just let me buy my comics first." I paid Wes, placed the comics in my trunk, then turned and said, "Okay ... Um ... I don't even know your name."

"Amanda Wellington," she said as she curtsied.

"Will Saddler," I returned with a light bow, then we went to eat.

"So, tell me about the situation with the Marvel Team-Ups," Amanda asked as we ate.

I began the story, finished with, "... and it took a Tales to Astonish #59 and oral sex to clinch the deal, but I got my books."

"So, is that what you're telling me?" she asked. "Am I expected to go down on you like you did to her if I want those books?"

"Of course not," I said as I lightly shook my head. I saw no reason to correct her assumption that the person in my story was female. "I would never ask that of anyone."

"Good, because it'd never happen."

"Then we're wasting our breath talking about it."

She studied me for a few seconds, then said, "There's something weird about you. I don't mean that in a bad way, more like in a refreshing way."

"Bologna," I said.

"What?"

"Bologna. I keep some in my shoes at all times. It keeps me on my toes." It was probably the lamest thing I had ever said to anyone, but she burst out laughing, sending rice and vegetables all over the table. I handed her Sprite to her.

"Thank you," she managed through her cough. She finally composed herself, then I helped her clean the table, then we resumed our meal.

"What do you do?" she asked me.

"I was managing the Gas N More over on Screven Street," I told her, "but I decided I needed something more in my life, so I quit and I'll be starting college next week."

"Oh, cool. What's your major going to be?"

"I'm pretty undecided at the moment," I answered. "Marketing is in my blood, though, so I'm figuring that, maybe."

"You know, my father owns an ad agency."

"Oh, okay," I replied as memory of the business came back to me. "Over on 5^th and Main."

"Yes, that's it."

"I forgot about that. I assumed you were connected to the Wellingtons who own the Kia and Hyundai franchises."

"Daddy owns those with his brother, but Uncle Tom runs them for the most part."

"And what do you do? And please don't tell me you sit around and let your parents take care of you, because that would just be terrible."

"No. I'm actually starting college in the fall as well, and I will be taking the marketing classes."

We finished up dinner, she paid without question, and then we made our way back to our vehicles. I opened my trunk, pulled out the comics I had purchased earlier, and presented them to her. "Here, I want you to have these."

"Why?" she asked. "I can order graded copies of those if I really wanted them. After all, I'm a Wellington."

"But you haven't ordered graded copies of them, which tells me that being a Wellington hasn't gone to your head." I placed them in her arms, then said, "I really enjoyed myself tonight, and I'd really like to see you again. Dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yeah," she said with a beautiful smile. "I'd like that." She gave me her number and told me to call after two.

The last time I was this excited about a call was when I awaited Joel's call about the MTU and the GS Spider-Man. Did this feeling herald kismet for me, for us? I didn't want to put all my eggs in that basket so soon, but a small part of me sincerely hoped it to be true. I waited until two-thirty, then I called. It went to voicemail. I left the message, "This is Will. Call me back."

My phone rang at three-twenty. It was Amanda. "Hello?"

"Hi, sorry about earlier. I was stuck in a meeting with Daddy. I think I forgot to mention I was interning with him. Anyway, I'm free now. Wanna catch a movie before dinner?"

"Sure," I answered enthusiastically. "Are you familiar with Glass?"

"Oh, my God! That's exactly the movie I want to see," she responded. Then, "Hang on a sec." I heard muffled clacking, then she said, "Okay, next show starts at four. Meet you there?"

"I'm on my way," I told her, and so I was.

Afterwards, "That was freakin' awesome." She looped an arm into mine and lay her head on my shoulder as we walked to the parking lot. "Have you decided on dinner?"

"Whatever you want," I told her.

"How about that new country buffet place that opened up across town?" she queried. "My friend Lexi says their chicken is better than Popeye's."

"Sounds good," I replied. Amanda rode with me, and once we arrived and filled our plates, I had to admit that Lexi was right as this was some of the best fried chicken I had ever had. I also got a piece of fried catfish filet, some fries, cheese grits, hushpuppies, and field peas to finish things out. Once done, "Man, that was good."

"What would you like to do now?" Amanda asked as we made our way back to her car, which was still parked at the theatre.

"Would you like to come over and see my comic collection?"

"Sure."

"Just follow me." I let her out, and we made our way to my trailer. We entered the spare bedroom and she was a bit wide-eyed at what she saw. "You are a much more serious collector than I."

"Oh, what's in the closet and those ten boxes on the floor aren't mine. I'm just holding them for someone. Mine are these boxes over here."

"It's still a large collection," she said as she made her way to them. I followed, pointing out one gem after another. She was especially blown away by the Superman vs. Spiderman. "I never knew this was done." We spent about an hour going through them, then it was to the living room. I brought her a can of Sprite while I had a Coke Zero.

"How's the internship thing coming along?" I asked.

"It's really just Daddy wanting me to learn the business," she said in way of a reply. "He's hoping I'll one day take over when he retires."

"Working on anything interesting?"

"We're trying to win the Reebok account, but so far no one has come up with anything useful."

"Oh, hell. That's easy," I told her. "Cyndi Lauper had a song in the eighties called 'She-Bop.' Here, let me pull it up for you." I found the song on YouTube and played it for her. "Rewrite the first two lines, substitute 'Reebok' for 'She-Bop,' and there's your ad."

"Wow, Will. That was really creative, and quick, too."

"It's the bologna," I reminded her. She spit her Sprite all over my coffee table as she fell into another fit of laughter.

I walked her to her car, we kissed, and we promised that we'd see each other tomorrow.

Ten a.m. I was getting ready to go for a jog when my phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D. and smiled. "Hey, you."

"Hey, yourself," Amanda said. "Any plans for tonight?"

"Seeing you, hopefully," I answered.

"What would you say to dinner at my place?"

She had told me that she still lived at home, which made me feel a bit uneasy about accepting her offer. "It's a little too soon to be introducing me to your parents, isn't it?" I forced a small laugh.

"It's nothing like that," she began in assuring me. "I passed your Reebok idea to Daddy and he loved it. He wants to meet you and talk to you about a career in marketing."

"Oh. Well, in that case, yeah. Sure."

"Jacket and tie, and be here at six-thirty."

"Okay, but where is 'here?'"

She laughed. "Silly me. 12885 Ponderosa Drive."

"Got it. See you tonight." I closed the call and punched the address into my street-finder app, then I jogged. It was especially humid for so early in the morning, but I got a good sweat and I felt great afterwards. I took a cool shower upon my return home, then chilled and played some video games until five, then I got ready and made my way to Amanda's.

"Don't you look handsome?" Amanda said when she greeted me at the door. She was wearing a green satin dress that was almost form-fitting.

"And you look unbelievably beautiful," I returned.

"Aw, thanks," she said as she kissed me on the cheek. "And here you thought all you were getting was a geeky girl who liked comic books and video games." She led me into the parlor where her parents stood. "Mom, Daddy, this is Will. Will, these are my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wellington."

"Sir," I said as I shook her father's hand. "Ma'am," I said as I reached out for her mother's, then I said, "Virginia Slim Super Slim Menthol."

"What?" she asked.

"That's what you smoke," I told her. "I used to work at the Gas N More on Screven Street."

"Oh, yes," she said with a smile. "That's why you look so familiar."

"Would you like a Scotch, Will?"

"Maybe after dinner, sir," I suggested.

"Good. Good. We'll probably be having wine with dinner, anyway. Best not to get too bogged down all at once." He looked at his watch. "Dinner about ready, Lois?"

"Let me check with Penelope," Mrs. Wellington said, and she disappeared into the kitchen.

"Penelope is in the Culinary Arts program at the college," Amanda told me. "Daddy allows a different student per night to cook for us. It helps with their resumé plus it gives us something exciting and different."

"That's very benevolent of you, Mr. Wellington," I said as I inclined my head toward him.

"I do what I can to help where I can," he stated as he led me to the dining room. "I allow the Landscaping students to do upkeep on my lawn. They earn some money while getting hands-on experience. The crew from last semester built a serenity garden for Lo-Lo."

"That's his pet name for Mom," Amanda apprised me.

We had a scrumptious meal of shrimp scampi with peppered provolone and parmesan linguini, baby carrots, and garlic bread. Penelope served Sangria with the meal, stating that although one might think a white wine would better complement the shrimp, the Sangria would complement everything overall, and she was right.

Afterwards, Mr. Wellington escorted me to the back patio where he could smoke a cigar and we could enjoy that scotch. It was still a bit humid, so I removed my jacket, loosened my tie, and rolled up my sleeves. "I like that," he said to me. "That's the look of a man who's ready to get down to brass tacks, which is why I asked Amanda to invite you over. She told me your idea for the Reebok account, Will, and I absolutely loved it. She told me that you came up with this off the top of your head. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me, Will: When you were explaining this to her, how, exactly, did you see this visually?"

"TV ad with a definite fifties feel to it," I began. "There would be about six or eight rows of every color and style of Reeboks dancing toe-to-toe, then heel-to-heel as each streamed across the screen, maybe every odd-numbered row moving left to right and every even numbered one moving right to left. Maybe try to get Cyndi Lauper to sing on it. The screen goes dark, then Reebok flashes to life in neon."

Mr. Wellington had stopped looking at me and just stared into the distance, as if he were seeing the idea that I painted. "That's pretty damned incredible," he finally said. "Not only can I see it, but I can feel it as well." He turned his full attention to me. "Amanda tells me you're undecided in your major, but I can tell you that you were born to do this, Will. Take those marketing classes with her. I'll ..." he looked around, then moved in close. "I'll put you on the payroll, give you one product per week, you give me a reasonably marketable idea. When you graduate, I'll pay off your student loan if you come work for me full-time. What do you say?"

"That's a lot to take in, sir." I gave it a few seconds' thought, then said, "Okay. I'm in."

"One other thing," he said. "You and my daughter like one another, yes?"

"I give you my word that I will always be respectful toward her, sir."

"She's a good girl, Will," Mr. Wellington said to me. "A little eccentric at times, but she has a good head on her shoulders. Don't do anything that would jeopardize either of your futures."

"You can trust me, sir."

He left me then, and a few seconds later Amanda came out to join me. "He really likes you."

"I like him," I said in all honesty. "He reminds me of my dad."

"What all did he have to say?"

"Take me for a walk around the neighborhood and maybe I'll tell you."

I really didn't tell her much at all, swearing that I was sworn to secrecy. I did tell her that I would be taking the marketing classes, so we agreed to take all the same classes throughout our four years of undergraduate studies. When we arrived back at her house, I collected my jacket from the patio, then she walked me to my car. I kissed her deeply. She didn't fight me, but when I pulled back she asked, "Are we there already?"

"I'm just letting you know that I am," I told her. "There's no rush on you. I think you are an incredible woman, so I can be patient while you decide."

In the days and weeks that followed, Amanda gave me light pecks on the cheek and lips, but nothing lingering to suggest she felt something more than a friendship. Finally, one night while we were studying at my place, she stopped and kissed me dead on the lips for a full five minutes. "I've decided that I love you," she said when she pulled back. "You've been really sweet this whole time waiting on me. Thank you."

"Just to let you know, I won't be pestering you for sex, either," I promised her. "You just let me know when you're ready."

"What if I'm not ready till the night of our honeymoon?"

"Then I'll wait that long to be with you."

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"I love you, Amanda. You're everything I could ever possibly want in a woman. You are worth waiting for, if that's what it comes down to."