The Best Mistake (Not Just Friends 1)

“Yeah, it has been a long time, man.” Toby finished off his vodka, and pointed to the kitchen. “You probably need a drink, too.”

Ace nodded, and they headed out of the living room and into the kitchen. A few people that loitered inside left when they entered, giving Toby their condolences as they exited.

“This is crazy shit, man,” Ace said and grabbed the glass of vodka Toby handed him. He tipped it back and downed the whole thing. The kitchen was silent for a moment, and all the memories of the times they had sat in the dark and talked about how shitty their dads were came flooding back to Toby.

He saw the way Ace’s shirt sleeve rose up, and the burn scars from the cigars his old man had smoked and put out on Ace’s skin littering the tanned, muscular flesh.

He lifted his gaze over Ace’s impressive height and weight, and knew the other man had not let his past control him. He looked healthy now, with a head full of short, dark hair, and light green eyes that had looked with fear and sorrow at Toby when they were children.

“So, how’ve you been?” Toby asked. “You look well, like you’ve been keeping active and healthy.” He was glad Ace had found a semblance of peace, at least on the outside.

“I’ve been good, working at a commercial contractor firm, making good money, and just trying to bury all the fucking shit from the past.”

Toby nodded. “I wish we would have kept in touch, man.”

Ace looked down at the ground and nodded. “Yeah, me too, Toby. After we moved my dad kept me pretty isolated. He couldn’t even pay his fucking bills, let alone have a phone in the house. I tried to write you once, but the asshole saw the letter and tore it up.”

Toby could imagine all of that. He had seen the abuse Ace had gone through at the hands of that sadistic asshole back in the day, watched through his windows as Gerald Renaldo slapped Ace around, tossed his small body across the room like he was nothing but a ragdoll.

The one time Toby had called the cops, hoping to ease Ace’s suffering, he had been seven years old.

What a mistake that had been. Ace had gotten it worse after the cops had left, and Toby’s dad had been on a bender and found out he had been the one to make the call. He’d never done that again for fear of his friend’s life.

“He’s dead,” Ace said without emotion. “Took an overdose of pills and booze one night. Can’t say I miss the bastard.”

Toby didn’t know what to say. “Shit, man. I wish I could have been there for you, kept in touch.”

Ace nodded. “Me, too, Toby, but that’s all said and done. We don’t have to put up with any kind of bullshit anymore.” He finished off his alcohol, and set the empty cup on the counter. “Your mom looks tore up, man.”

Toby nodded. “Yeah, even after everything my dad put her through, she doesn’t know any other life without him in it.”

“You think she’ll be okay?” Ace asked.

Toby shrugged. “I don’t know honestly, but I hope so. She’s a strong woman at heart, just needs to find herself after all of this.” They stood there in silence, neither able to say anything because the tension in the room was so thick. No doubt Ace was thinking about all the shit from the past right now, too. “Listen, let’s go out tonight, get drunk, and not worry about all this bullshit.”

Ace grinned. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”

13

They’d been at the bar for the last few hours, and Toby was good and drunk. Even though they’d been talking about random shit, staying away from the more sensitive subjects such as their asshole, drunken and abusive fathers, there was still the heavy weight of that hanging over them.

“Although I know what your old man did to you, I am sorry about his death.”

Toby nodded, picked up his shot, and tossed it back. “Yeah, well shit happens. I’m sorry about your old man, too. If I had known I would have been there for you, Ace.”

Ace clapped him on the back. “I know, but honestly, a pretty big part of me feels like my dad’s death is on my hands.” The forlorn look on Ace’s face told Toby that this wasn’t something to get into right now.

He lifted his hand for the bartender to bring them another round. When fresh shots were in front of them he thought about all the shit his dad had done to him and his mom. There wasn’t any sadness in him over his dad’s death. In fact, he felt pissed, so full of rage as the abuse from all those years came back to the forefront of his mind.