“You want some crackers?” Austin holds up the box.
I shake my head and take another sip.
And then I set the mug down and take one half of my grilled cheese and dunk it into my soup and take a bite.
***
“I think that’s all I can manage,” I tell him after I swallow my third bite of grilled cheese and drink most of my soup.
“It’s something at least.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a knock at the door. I’m about to stand, but Austin passes me, putting his hand on my shoulder briefly, gesturing for me to stay where I am. I’m relieved to not have to answer the door.
But when I hear him talking to someone, I peer around the corner and see he’s talking to Andrew.
I hear him telling Austin he already knows, that I texted him this morning.
Austin looks over his shoulder at me.
“Hi Andrew,” I whisper. “Thanks for coming by, but I’m just… I’m not feeling very sociable.”
“I brought you coffee and donuts and to find out if I can do anything to help.” Andrew’s face is sad.
“That’s very kind.” I try to squeeze over, but it’s like Austin is blocking me from Andrew.
“Excuse me, Austin.”
I step around him and go out onto the porch. Andrew backs up, sets the things he brought down on the side of the porch banister, and reaches around and pulls me into a hug.
It immediately feels awkward.
Austin stands there with us.
“I’m so sorry about your loss, Jada. Can I come in?”
“Um… okay. But only for a couple minutes. I’m… I have-”
“I get it. You have arrangements to make, calls… but if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” He keeps one arm around me as he opens the door and this means Austin backs up so that we don’t collide.
This feels like a pissing contest, suddenly, like Austin and Andrew are facing off and thinking I’m not noticing.
We’re in the kitchen.
Austin comes in, carrying the items Andrew left on the porch. He sets them in the center of the table.
“Do you need help with anything?” Andrew asks and rubs my shoulder.
Austin moves in closer. “Come sit down, sweetheart.” He steers me into the chair on the back of the table and gets between me and Andrew. They’re looking at one another.
“Guys, come on,” I breathe out.
“Sorry, Jada, I’m not tryin’ to behave like an ape here,” Andrew remarks, emphasis on the ‘I’m’.
Austin glares at him. “He’s here right now for the same reason I am. To be here for you, Jada. But, see, he doesn’t get that I’m here. With you.” Austin’s emphasis is obviously to make Andrew think we’re in a relationship. And I’m not sure what we’re in.
“This has to stop. It’s silly,” I grumble.
“He wants to fuck you, Jada,” Austin says. “He needs to get that it isn’t gonna happen and he’s in the friend zone whether he likes that or not.”
“He knows he’s my friend,” I exclaim.
I glance Andrew’s way, about to say, ‘tell him’ but the look on Andrew’s face tells me that he does, in fact want to fuck me, does not want to be in that friend zone.
I jerk back in surprise.
“I’m not gonna rush you. I like you,” he says. “But yeah, I like you a lot. I get that this is a fucked up time for you, and that’s why I wouldn’t have played it like that. Last thing you need is to worry about two guys fighting over you.” He shoots Austin a dirty look.
Austin is trying to melt Andrew’s face.
I shake my head with exasperation.
“Not here to put pressure on you, Jada. You want me to stay or go?” Andrew asks.
“I’m okay, Andrew. Thanks anyway,” I say.
“I’ll call you later.” He leans over and kisses my cheek softly. “I’m here if you need anything. Day or night. Okay?”
I blink, saying nothing.
Andrew gives Austin a once-over and then he leaves.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
I go from having nobody to having two men who want to fight over me? This is crazy.
I can’t even think about this right now.
Austin’s watching me process this.
“Okay, well, you should get going, too,” I say.
“I’m staying,” Austin states.
“I can’t…”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby,” Austin declares. “I’m not making you do anything, not making you talk about anything. I’m just here.”
I don’t know how to decode this.
“I’m just here,” he repeats.
I take my dishes to the counter.
“I’ll deal with that,” he says, and moves up to the sink.
The milk is sitting out, so I lift it and open the fridge door. My eyes land on the six beers, the six chocolate pudding cups, two vanilla, and three banana that belong to my father. We ran out of butterscotch.
And my chest feels like it’s about to cave in again.
I stare into the fridge long enough that it beeps, jolting me.
“What can I do?” Austin asks.