Brian held up Ford’s empty coffee jar. Damn, he really needed to get to the store now. A quick stop at a 7-Eleven for some coffee with two breakfast bites and he’d be good to go for a few hours. “The Orioles are on tonight. You coming over?”
Brian nodded his head while he threw the empty container in the trash and picked up his jean jacket off the chair. On the way to Ford’s truck Brian began signing. “It’s not like you to sleep so late. Something wrong, Ford?” Brian didn’t finger-spell the letters of Ford’s name as was common in ASL. He signed the word “brother” but instead of using an L-shaped hand like you’re supposed to, he used an F. Ford liked that a lot.
Ford was quiet until he felt a comforting heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to face his brother. He looked so much like him it was almost like looking in a mirror. Except Brian’s beard wasn’t as thick as his, opting for the dark stubble. His hair had grown quite a bit longer on the top, just enough to put in a tiny man bun, which was what Brian had done today. The sides, he kept shaved close. It wasn’t a style Ford could pull off, but it wasn’t bad on his brother. A jagged scar ran from his brow to his temple, some were hidden under his dark beard, and several marred his neck where his captors had threatened to yank out his tongue through his throat if he didn’t talk. Ford moved his eyes from them, his heart clenching every time he thought of that period in their life.
“Let me get some coffee in me. And I’ll talk, though I’m sure you probably already know what it’s about.”
Brian’s grin was irritating, but he faced front and didn’t press him. After scarfing down their breakfast sausages and coffee in the car, Ford balled up the trash and tucked it back in the 7-Eleven bag. He stared at the already full Save-A-Lot parking lot. It was a brisk forty-two degrees and the sun was out, but dark storm clouds were approaching fast from the south. Regardless, that didn’t stop the people from coming out in droves this Saturday. He knew Brian was waiting patiently on him to start talking, but he had no clue how to start it.
“You going to taxi this thing to death or you going to bring it in, brother?” Brian finally signed.
“Yeah. Things are crazy in my head, Brian. He’s driving me insane,” Ford started out, letting his worries flood to the surface and drown him. “I’m dreaming about him, thinking about him, pissed about him, and everything else in between. It’s all his fault, too,” Ford growled, then murmured, “Needs to grow the hell up.”
“He’s great and you know it. If he knew you were even slightly interested, he never would’ve gotten back with that deceiver.” Brian had to finger spell the last word.
“So you would be good with that, if me and him, ya know?” Ford always looked his brother in the eye, but he was struggling today. He was embarrassed.
“Why wouldn’t I be? He’s Dana. And I know he likes you. And you obviously like him. Or else y’all wouldn’t fight like Ike and Tina.” Brian cocked his brow when Ford gave him a dirty look. “Just being honest.”
“He’s young,” Ford contended.
“Age is a state of mind.”
“Not when you’re almost fifty,” Ford scoffed.
“But you look like a thirty-year-old, and you’re probably healthier than one, too. Do you feel forty-six?”
Ford shook his head. Sometimes he forgot his real age. Duke’s and Quick’s, as well. Teenagers couldn’t outrun them. Ford ran five miles, three, sometimes four times a week. Worked out more than that. He was extremely fit and he felt it.
“State of mind, brother.”
“He shouldn’t’ve gotten back with that girl any-damn-way. That’s not exactly a way to earn someone’s trust.”
“He already has your trust. You would never go in the field with anyone that wasn’t up to your standards. He was lonely, that’s all. He doesn’t love her. But he’s the type of man that needs companionship, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s a human thing, Ford. Most people – men too, bro – don’t want to be alone.” Brian tapped Ford’s thigh so he’d turn and look at him. “If I can put myself out there… so can you. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have—”
Brian threw both hands up, cutting him off, his hands moving so fast, Ford had to squint to keep up. “Oh no. You have me and the guys, but not in that way. You need ‘that way’ in your life, Ford. You’re not ready to hang up your coat and hat. You’ve got a lot of years left, a lot of nights. Do you want to spend them watching the sports channel and eating oven dinners alone, or do you trust your watchman to take you on one helluva ride?”