“Maybe we should talk about making a plan—”
Yoss snorted and I raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember being the one to tell you the same thing a long time ago,” he mused and I couldn’t help but smile.
“You told me to figure out a plan. You made me promise.”
“I’m glad you kept it,” he said.
“I like to keep my promises,” I replied sharply. I hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory, but it seemed old bitterness found its way into our conversation, no matter how I tried to keep it out.
Yoss’s eyes went frosty again and I berated myself for ruining our moment of ease.
“So your plan,” I began, pulling out the blank service agreement. Yet more paperwork I needed to fill out. More paperwork that I was thankful I could fall back on when things became completely awkward. “We can talk about steps to get you your own place maybe since you’re so adverse to a shelter.”
“I had an apartment,” he stated, changing the subject.
I glanced up from the paper in my lap. “You did? When?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised.
Yoss’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “About five years ago I moved into a little place above the bakery and coffee shop on Vine. Do you remember it?” He was challenging me.
I held my chin up a little higher. “Yes, of course I do.” I was very familiar with the dumpsters behind it specifically.
“I even had a job. It wasn’t much. I was a handyman for the apartment complex on the south side of town. I lived there for almost three years.”
“That sounds great.” I was happy to hear that at least, for a time, Yoss had been doing okay.
“Yeah, it was for a while. But then I was laid off. The apartment complex hired a new manager and he didn’t need two full-time maintenance men, so I got the ax. I was going to try to find something else but then my grandma died…” he drifted off into silence and I knew he was battling with some heavy emotions.
“I’m so sorry, Yoss. She was a great lady,” I said, meaning every word. I knew how much he loved his grandmother. How much that would have destroyed him.
“It got shitty again after that. I was evicted from my apartment. I didn’t have anywhere to stay,” he said on a sigh.
“Where did you go after that?”
“Here and there. I stayed back in The Pit for a while. Though it’s hardly habitable anymore. Not after the fire.” He glanced at me and I had to look back down at my paperwork.
Memories…lots of them made it hard to breathe.
“There were many nights I spent sleeping in the woods. Shelters, when things were really rough, but after the stabbing thing, I wouldn’t go back there. Then I met Perry and Gail. Perry had just gotten out of jail for drug possession. He’s a Gulf War Vet with some serious PTSD. Lost his job and like the rest of us, had nowhere to go. No one that gave a shit. Except for Gail. She’s an addict though. One of the worst I’ve seen. She would hang out by the river to make money and that’s where I met her. They’re good people. Fucked up people, but decent folk. They offered to let me stay with them at the house by The Pavilion. At least it was dry and somewhat warm.”
“What were you doing during the years before you moved to your apartment? Where did you go? Where did you sleep?” Yoss seemed to be in a talkative mood and I wanted to find out as much as I could.
“Around,” Yoss answered dismissively, which irked me.
“Around? What does that mean? Were you still in Lupton?” I demanded.
“I left town for a little while. Not long. Just a month or so.”
“Where did you go?”
“Nowhere important. I stayed for a while after you—” He cut off quickly. “I left but then realized I needed to come back. That life was way worse away from here. I stayed at The Pit some of the time. I met some people and slept on couches, that sort of thing.”
“Why did you need to come back?” I pestered.
“Just did,” he evaded.
Then I went for it. I plunged right into the topic that we were both dancing around.
“Why didn’t you come looking for me?” I asked and instantly wished I could take it back. This wasn’t about me after all. This wasn’t about my pain. My betrayal.
But our feelings had always become tangled up in each other. It was hard to separate one from the other.
Yoss’s eyes found mine again and I felt it.
The connection.
The slow, steady thumping of his heartbeat. And mine.
“Why?” I asked again, a little more insistent this time.
Yoss opened his mouth. Then closed it again.
He appeared conflicted.
“Mr. Frazier, it’s nice to see you a bit more animated,” Dr. Howell said, breaking the spell, ruining the moment. I sagged back in my seat, unfairly annoyed with the doctor for intruding.
Dr. Howell glanced at me, realizing I was there. “Imogen, hello. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have the results of the liver function test. It’s good you’re here, so we won’t have to debrief later.” Smiles. Lots of them. They were all fake.