Life Incomplete

Chapter 5

Thomas's dad, Bill, met them outside their locker when they arrived in the morning. The locker he'd rented for Thomas's apartment was in the same facility, and Bill remembered the locker number for Addy and Eliza's things from helping bring the furniture here. He and Rita talked about who might want what and which things to take today, and he and Groban loaded the truck for the first trip.

        Bill was tall and thick, everything about him came across as big; his voice, manners, and presence filled whatever room he was in. He was nearly the opposite of Thomas, who'd taken after his mother's side of the family, but they'd been close. Eliza and Thomas had been best friends since the age of two, and planned on marrying each other until the age of eleven when they'd each realized individually that they were both homosexual. Marriage plans dashed by a deeper understanding of themselves through puberty, and then by Eliza and Rita moving away, they'd stayed best friends long distance in spite of Thomas's family then moving too far away to make visiting possible. It had been Addy's idea for her and Eliza to move to the same city where Thomas and his family lived.

        Groban went with Bill for the second trip, this time taking things to a donation center rather than to Bill's house. They didn't talk much, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. That was something Thomas had inherited from his dad: the ability to be silent around others in comfort. They passed a theater playing the same movie Thomas had recommended in the dream for Groban to watch. It was on as a special feature and for this weekend only.

        "I love that movie," they both said at the same time, and then laughed. Bill braked hard and swerved the truck into the theatre parking lot.

        "Call Rita and tell we're going to be a bit, but we'll make up for it by buying supper," Bill said as he collected from compartments around his seat all the odds and ends he'd taken out of his back pockets so he could drive comfortably. "Let's go see a movie. Thomas and I would go whenever a theater played it and it would be nice to go with someone who liked it," he added.

        Groban called Rita, as directed, as they walked across the parking lot. She laughed about the movie selection, but told him that they should have fun and not to worry about dinner. She'd just been about to order delivery from the Mexican restaurant and was looking forward to that.

        Bill bought popcorn and drinks while Groban was buying tickets. It wasn't a good movie, but they loved it and it was nice to watch it with someone else who enjoyed it. They traded lines from the script back and forth, still laughing, on the way back out the truck once the movie was over. Groban slid into the passenger seat and was clicked in and ready to go while Bill was still unloading his back pockets. Bill was chuckling as he climbed into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and then shoved tears off his cheeks with the back of one hand. He blew his nose into one of those oversized, 3-ply tissues, and tossed it into the five gallon bucket he used as his truck's garbage can.

        "Thank you for that, Groot," Bill said, squeezing Groban's forearm in one of his big hands.

        "Honestly, any time," Groban told him, meaning it.

        They got the furniture dropped off and went straight back to the storage facility. Rita was picking through some more boxes, Addy and Eliza's dining room table and a couple of chairs set up to eat at, the table top loaded with a lot of unopened Mexican food and take-out packets of plastic cutlery.

        "I cooked!" Rita said, smiling at them and gesturing at the take-away boxes as if she'd made the meal herself. They laughed and sat down. She joined them, even though she'd already eaten, and they joked about taking time out to go to a movie, then about the movie and how bad she thought it was.

        Bill stayed long after they needed the truck for moving things just to help reorganize the locker so it would be easier on the next trip to get right into sorting. It was a later night than they'd planned on when they left, but they got a lot more done than expected. As they closed up for the night, Bill decided that for the next weekend when Groban and Rita were coming to the city they would stay with him and his wife. Rita tried to argue, but Bill had already called Susan and she agreed and then insisted right overtop of any of Rita's polite protests.

        When he got home, Groban told his dad about the dream with Thomas and the movie, and then about going to the movie for real with Bill. Marty only smiled, he and his cane thumping into the living room to bring back the dog-eared book from beside his chair. He dropped the book onto the kitchen table beside Groban's elbow. It was the one that he'd wanted Groban to read after the first dream.

        "This happens sometimes. You should read about it. It's a good thing," Marty said, thumping a finger onto the cover with each sentence. Groban took the book downstairs and left it beside his bed as he showered, forgetting about it as he started thinking about work the next day.

        "You never question anything, do you?" Lingon said, looking half-way disappointed.

        "Not out loud, most of the time," Groban said. Most of his objections to things could be made by simply walking away from a person or situation, and any question he'd had could be answered in private by the person he wanted to ask.