The house was quiet as John walked the halls for what he figured would be the last time. He checked all the windows and doors making sure the place was locked down tight. She might be dead now but his grandmother would still kill him if he let anything happen to the old place. She had grown up there and loved the place almost as much as she loved her family. As he reached the front door he felt a cold breeze float across the back of his neck. "I remember Gran. Don't leave the key under the mat if you are going to be gone more than a couple of days. Its in my pocket." He told the house as he locked the door and pulled it closed behind him. He looked around the neighborhood where she had lived. It may not have been one of the richest, but it was one of the oldest in the town of White River. John walked down the front path feeling like he had the world on his shoulders. He too had grown up in the house. His grandmother having taken him in when his parents were killed when he was just a small child. He had loved his grandmother with all his heart as he grew up, but he hated White River just as much. Now he was twenty-two and the only thing left to tie himself to the town was an old rundown house and a pile of memories. He turned back for one last look at the house. "I'm sorry Gran, but I can't stay. There was never much that made this town worth being in and now there is even less." He told the house. "I am not ready to face Rox with the truth so I am just locking the place up for now." He turned away from the house and back toward his car without paying much attention to anything.
"Hey John, I'm real sorry to hear about your grandmother." The man leaning against the front of his car said startling him out of his own thoughts.
"Rox, thanks. Its been a long couple of days." He stepped closer and leaned next to his childhood friend.
"Figured it had been." He decided not to say anything about what he had heard as he walked up. "You staying in town or heading straight back to New Orleans?"
John tipped his head back, "I'm not sure, but I know I couldn't stay here. I have a room out at the Rest-All for now." He sighed. He had been hoping that he could come close up the house and not see Rox, but he could hear God laughing at the very idea.
"I know you have the super important job down there. How long did they give you off to handle this?" Rox asked keeping his voice light. His best friend in all the world looked like he was holding on by a thread.
"The casino told me I could take as much time as I needed. I guess I could stay for a few days." He sighed, maybe it was time to tell the truth.
Rox stood up and faced him, "Maybe we could grab a bite and a beer? Its been a long time since you've been home." He prayed the longing couldn't be heard in his voice.
John felt his breath catch at the thought of spending time with Rox. There were a great many things he had been forced to come to terms with in New Orleans. Some of the he was glad for, his feelings for Rox he was still undecided about. "I might be able to handle that." He said honestly.
Rox's eyes lit up, "Great. Tonight, say six at the Spur?" He asked naming the little hole in the wall bar at the edge of town.
John felt himself smile for the first time since he got the call about his grandmother's passing. "Sounds good." He knew he needed the time out and about, but it was more than that. He stood up, "Six. I'll be there, but for now I have a few last minute things I have to do. I can't believe she's gone." He hung his head as he felt the tears start again.
Rox stood there for a minute unsure of what to do. Tears always brought him to his knees, but John's were worse. He reached out and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know, and I know there is nothing in this world I can say to make it better."
John wasn't sure what made him do it, but suddenly he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Rox as the tears fell like water. "I miss her so much. How could I have not been here at the end? Why did she have to die alone?" He whispered into the soft cloth of Rox's shirt.
Rox wrapped his arms around his friend and held on as if he was never going to let go because it was what he knew John needed, but in honesty he didn't ever want to let go. They had never been the kind of friends to hug much, and the few random touches he had been allowed to pull off the last time he had seen John just weren't enough anymore. "Its ok J. I have you." He whispered running his hand up and down John's back as the sobs were torn from him. "I promise I won't let go as long as you need me." He meant the words with all his heart, but he doubted if John was even hearing them. He simply stood there at the edge of the street holding his best friend as he cried over the loss of a woman that meant the world to both of them.
Slowly John regained control of himself, and pulled away. "Sorry about that. I haven't broken down like that since I got the call."
"J its okay. I understand. I miss her too." Rox told him as his hands slipped away.
John sniffed away the last of the tears. "I don't break down like that. Hell I own and run a multi-million dollar, multi-national company. People like me don't break down and cry like a baby on the side of the street." He didn't think about what he was doing he just turned from the car and headed back toward the house. Rox followed him doing his best to hide a knowing smile. The old lady had always had a plan. He didn't really think death was going to stop her if she wanted someone done her way.
At the door John fumbled with his heys until Rox took them and unlocked the door. "Go sit. I know there is still coffee that can be made." He said giving John a push toward the livingroom and heading himself into the kitchen.
John moved like a zombie into the livingroom and dropped down onto the end of the couch. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick gran?" He asked the empty room.
A few moments later Rox came back in with two of his grandmother's heavy mugs full of coffee. "Drink, its loaded and it will help." He said handing one of the cups to John.
John took a sip, "Why are you being so nice to me? I ran out on everyone here and left all of you to deal with gran?" He asked the grief gripping his heart nearly cutting off his voice.
Rox sat down next to him and closed his eyes for just a moment before answering. "Your gran knew you couldn't stay, we all did. That's why she made us all sware we wouldn't call you until it was over. She didn't want to tie you here." He took a drink of his own coffe reminding himself that while John was here now he wouldn't be staying long. He couldn't aford to get any more attached than he already was.
John looked his friend in the eyes. "Are you saying that she knew she was dying?" He asked sitting the mug on the table.
Rox glanced up at the picture he had painted his first year in art school of himself, John, and gran. "Yes, but she also knew that you would have come back to take care of her. She didn't want that. She wanted you to be happy, and she knew you were happy in New Orleans."
John followed his gaze to the painting. "I remember when you gave her that. She was so proud of you. She named that picture did you know that?"
"No, I didn't. What did she name it?"
John felt the laugh building inside his chest, "Secrets in plain sight." He let the laugh out, "never did know what she meant by it."
