Wood (A True Lover's Story #2) - A.E. Via Page 0,39
he waited for any form of encouragement he could get. While he’d never considered himself to be an alcoholic, his sponsor had helped him to understand the broad scope of that disease, and just because Wood had never got sloppy drunk, alcohol had still ruined his life and others’ around him.
“You said you never got to apologize but you needed to. I think if it’ll give you some peace and closure, then you should.”
“Mmhmm.” Wood thought on those words carefully.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Brody asked gently. He was a restaurant manager during the day, but in the evenings he was a godsend, a rock to a lot of people. Including him.
“No. I need to do this on my own.”
“You don’t have to, Wood. Sometimes facing our past and the destruction we caused other people can be overwhelming, and the guilt can be too much to bear alone.”
Wood roughly rubbed his hand across his forehead. He understood that because he already felt as if his chest was going to cave in from the pressure. “I’ll be all right. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice or something. I do need to see you, Brody. I’m not sure I can wait anymore.” Wood startled at the sound of the closet door slamming. Shoot! Trent walked into the kitchen scowling at Wood as if he wanted to strike him.
“Look, Brody, I gotta go, all right.”
“Sure, but if you need me I’ll be at the rec center tonight from eight to midnight.”
“I know.”
“So, I’ll see you soon, Wood.” Brody put it in a way that said he expected Wood to make the time to go to a meeting.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later, maybe,” Wood said quietly, but he could tell by the tenseness of Trent’s shoulders that he’d heard him.
Wood watched as Trent shoved his lunch pail into his duffle bag and yanked it over his head, hauling ass toward the door. “I better get going.”
“Trent, wait.”
Trent stormed out the front door before Wood could explain that call.
Chapter Twenty
Wood
Wood got off the bus on Virginia Beach Boulevard near Laskin Road where the neighborhoods and schools were a lot nicer than in Norfolk. Moving around the seven cities with a damn bus pass hadn’t done anything to improve his mood, especially after having to switch buses three times! One thing that hadn’t changed since he’d been gone was Hampton Roads’ crappy public transportation system. He zipped his thin jean jacket up to his throat in an attempt to block the cold wind whipping at his face as he crossed over the busy four-lane road.
He slowly made his way through the quaint community of two-story homes, not in a hurry to face his past. Seeing Adam and telling him he was sorry was his first stop along his walk of shame. He had no clue if his ex-boyfriend’s mother still lived there or not, but he hoped she did because it was the only address he had. The white house with blue shutters came into view when he got to the last street, and the moment he saw the rocking chair on the wraparound porch, he knew she was still there.
He knocked lightly, then took a couple of steps back from the screen door. He listened for any movement inside or a television maybe, but he heard nothing. He opened the screen to knock again when a young man no older than twenty-five answered and gestured with one finger for him to wait a second as he rapidly tapped at his phone screen. Wood stood silent, then removed his beanie as the kid looked him up and down.
“You don’t look like you’re from Verizon,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m waiting on my tech guy.”
“I’m not your tech guy,” Wood said.
“I can see that.” He crossed his arms over his thin chest. “How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Ms. Geneva, is she here? I apologize for stopping by unannounced, but I don’t have her number any longer,” Wood said.
The young man stared at him for too long, and Wood wondered if he maybe had the wrong house. He glanced up and down the street, then back at the kid. He could only see one of the guy’s light blue eyes since the right one was covered by his long bang. He widened his stance as much as his skinny jeans would allow and rocked back on his black Converse. “How do you know my grandma?”