"Fit, goddamnit," grunted AJ, using his grimy, calloused fingers to try to screw a nut back on. It was the right one, he was sure of it, but it kept slipping right off the end of the bolt without catching on the threads. "Goddamnit."
He heard the footsteps approaching, but against every instinct he ignored them. Maybe if he pretended they weren't there, they would go away. It hadn't worked for any of his problems yet, but it seemed like an idea whose time had come.
"Do you even know what time it is?"
"Judging by the sky," grunted AJ without looking up, "about five-thirty. What are you doing up, Jerry?"
"Lindy was getting up to put the coffee on, saw a light on over here. Woke me up to let me know. Hell, I thought someone was robbing the place."
"Sorry," said AJ reflexively. The nut slipped from his fingers and tumbled down into the engine. "Goddamnit!" he said again, grunting in frustration. It would take him forever to fish it back out.
"Whoa," said Jerry. "Easy there, AJ. What's going on?"
"Nothing," he insisted, grabbing the light he had hanging off the hood and dangling it over the engine to see if he could tell where it had fallen. "I'm fine. Nothing." He saw nothing, and hung the light back up in disgust.
"Don't give me that shit, AJ ... "
"What, it can't be nothing now? There always has to be something wrong with me?"
"Twice this week you've shown up here before dawn," said Jerry, his voice steely but calm. "There's something wrong. You really think it's gonna do you any good to lie about it?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake" grunted AJ, turning and hurling the wrench he was holding to the cracked, stained concrete. It sent up a shower of sparks as it skidded to a stop against a pile of parts. "I wish I'd never fucking met either one of them."
Jerry looked at AJ, then looked at the wrench, then silently went to pick it up. AJ's whole body was shaking and he couldn't seem to make it stop, no matter how hard he gripped the edge of the car. He hated them. He hated the situation. He hated everything.
"Don't take it out on the tools," was all Jerry said when he finally spoke, though.
"What?" asked AJ, not sure he'd heard right.
"I said don't take it out on the tools," he said calmly, not handing the wrench back but putting it up on the wall where it belonged. "I can't afford to be replacing them every time you need to vent."
"I'll buy you new ones. I'll buy you a hundred new ones."
"That's not the point," said Jerry. "When you're upset, and I'm here, you can talk to me. You don't take it out on the tools. Or anything else, for that matter. Now what the fuck is going on? Who do you wish you hadn't met?"
"Never mind," said AJ stubbornly, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, a headache exploding behind his eyes. "I'll get over it."
"I'm out of my bed and five-thirty in the morning for you, AJ. Talk."
"I didn't ask you to be."
"Yeah, actually, you did," pushed Jerry. "When you asked me to help you out, you did ask that of me. And I'm happy to do it, and all I ask in return is you explain to me why I'm here."
AJ sighed and gave in; that was all it really took anymore -- someone to be completely rational with him. "It's Sarah," he said finally. "And Justin. I hate them."
"Do you really?"
"No, not really. Just right now. Fuck."
"Good," said Jerry. "Cause I'd hate to think you're marrying someone you hate." AJ was silent. "Ah. Is that what we're gonna talk about, then?"
"I love her," he said, like that was an answer. It wasn't; it was only a start. And something to make up for the guilt of ever saying out loud that he hated her. "She's perfect for me."
"But?"
"Who says there's a but?"
Jerry shrugged. "There was a but in your voice."
"No but," said AJ firmly. "And Justin is mad at me."
"What, mad?" Jerry looked startled by the change of subject for a moment, then his expression smoothed out again and he went with it. "Because you're getting married?"
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"No. Fuck. I don't know. I don't know why he's mad at me." He knew it was a lie the moment he said it, but he didn't take it back. "Maybe not mad. But disappointed."
"Did he tell you why?"
"I didn't ask." Jerry looked at him levelly for a moment. Expectantly. "I really haven't had a chance. I've only seen him once, and he was all busy with his friends. He didn't have time to talk about it."
"Aren't you his friend, too?" prompted Jerry, and AJ was suddenly reminded of his counsellor in rehab, the tactics he's always used to get AJ to say what he was really feeling. Or to get to a point where AJ couldn't help but blurt it out.
"You're not my shrink," he muttered.
"No, your shrink wouldn't get out of bed at five-thirty in the morning for you," agreed Jerry. "So are you saying Justin's not your friend, now?"
"His other friends," AJ clarified. Just because he recognized what Jerry was doing, didn't mean it wasn't going to work."The guys, from his group? The ones he wants to spend time with."
"Feeling a little sorry for yourself, are you?"
"I am not," said AJ, so vehemently he knew Jerry could tell it hit home. "I just ... he's usually there, when I need to talk to him. And not all busy and stand-offish."
"But this one time he was, is that it?" asked Jerry. "And so you hate him for it?"
"You don't have to make it sound so stupid." Jerry just looked at him. "Okay, it's a little stupid. But you don't understand."
"So explain it to me then."
AJ shook his head. "It's complicated. And not important."
"In fact, it's so not important that you're banging around the lot before dawn, scaring the crap out of me," said Jerry dryly. "You maybe want to try that again?"
AJ felt a pang of guilt at that, as he was sure he was meant to, and sighed. "Something happened, is all." he said.
"You fought?"
"We kissed."
"Oh."
"Yeah," said AJ, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "We kissed. You shocked?"
"You want me to be?"
AJ shrugged and looked down at his hands. "See, I didn't mean to, it just happened. But, I mean, he's gay, so it probably meant way more to him that it was supposed to, and he doesn't have to be a dick about it." Jerry was silent. "He could at least ask me why I did it."
Jerry was still silent, but AJ didn't look up at him. With a silence that long, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what Jerry was thinking, what Jerry thought of him after that little revelation.
"So I just want to say," he added when the silence had gone on too long for his comfort, "that I wasn't fucking with him. It just happened."
"Sometimes these things happen," said Jerry, with the confidence of a person who'd never had it happen to him. "You deal with it however it needs to be dealt with, and then you move on. Like everything."
"So what if I don't know how it needs to be dealt with?"
"Don't you?" said Jerry. Another push to get AJ to answer his own question, but AJ stayed stubbornly silent this time, even fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. "Fine," Jerry went on after a few more moments had passed. "So why are you so upset at Sarah, then?"
"I'm not."
"You said you were."
"I'm not," repeated AJ, like saying the lie over and over again would somehow make it the truth. "I love her. She's just ... you know, the wedding. Going a little nuts. It's normal stuff." Jerry grunted. "Oh, don't give me that," AJ added. "It is normal."
"To get some wedding jitters? Of course it is. Usually not a year before the wedding, but you're not the average guy either. Besides ... I might not be the best guy to be giving advice on that particular problem -- I'm on wife number three, after all."
"Well, that's fine," said AJ breezily. "I don't need advice on my love life anyway."
"Good," said Jerry, nodding at him, but AJ knew him better than that. Could read the dubious look on his face. "Sarah's a sweet girl. What made you decide to ask her to marry you?"
"She's ... right for me," he said finally, a little off-balance from the unexpected question. "Everyone thinks so. It was about time I realized that, too."
"Ah," said Jerry knowingly. "And you think that's a good reason to get married?"
AJ jerked his eyes up to meet Jerry's. "Are you saying I shouldn't marry her?"
Jerry shook his head. "No, I'm not saying that at all. Do you think you shouldn't marry her?"
AJ looked away again and exhaled smoke out in a cloud in front of him. And then stared at it. "Look," he said finally. "I love her. She's stood by me through everything. I can't think of any good reason why I shouldn't marry her. She's earned it, all the crap I've put her through. And I gotta tell you, Jerry, you're really not doing much to help me clear my head about this."
"Fair enough," said Jerry, suddenly resting a hand on AJ's shoulder. "That's probably enough for now. You all right to go home? Not gonna go out and do anything you're gonna regret?"
AJ nodded his head after a moment; the worst of it had passed now. He wasn't going to swerve into the nearest open store to pick up some beer and drink himself under the table. He didn't want to throw anything anymore. What he did want to do was go hide somewhere again and just take a little time to himself for a while. But he knew he wouldn't do that. By lunchtime he'd be sitting out by the pool with Sarah and talking about where they wanted to hold the ceremony. The way it was supposed to be.
"Good," said Jerry, giving AJ a calculating once over. "I'll finish up here. Go home, AJ. Get some sleep. You look like hell."
It was nothing compared to how AJ felt.