the fact that we expect love to hurt is pretty fucked up

 Jay was full of mixed emotions. It was amazing he got dressed to even go up to Vanna and Koda's, but he knew they were expecting him.

True, just like Koda had told Jay, Dixie was a super Vanna. He could only imagine the trouble those two could get in too. Of course, he imagined his own trouble he could get into with her, too.

He didn't need that. There were other plans plotting in his head. Like the best plan to visit his people. He needed to know him. Was he part of a tribe or not?

His dad's name was Ramone. Father Ramone kept roaming about in his head, night and day. Were they anything alike? Or was he just like his mother? 

Probably, like his mother.

He looked over at Dixie now as they ate. She was only eating mashed potatoes and some bread. Possibly, she'd already finished off her carrots. 

Jay was only drinking water. He wanted to keep a clear head. God, he hoped he didn't do anything foolish. But sometimes, the body and brain did not work together. Something could raise it's head at the most mundane moments and make anything sexy.

Like Dixie's lips and how she looked at him as if she might be Daisy somebody from an old 70s show. Gawd, why was he like this? After all, he'd been through? Oh, it started way before he got involved with Brian's sister. He'd always been in it for the thrill of it. 

He had to remember he'd only wanted to be Janine's hero. That was how it started. Oh, he was almost steamy-eyed. He did not need to be here. He wanted to go home.

"I forgot something," Jay said as he was finishing up a clean plate. He pushed his chair back. "Sorry."

He couldn't get out of there quick enough. He thought he might be having a heart-attack. Of course, he had to be too young for that, hadn't he? A part of him wanted to go out into the dark. Maybe smoke a cigarette. But he didn't have any. 

Damn, if something like that wouldn't lead to something else, like a bottle of whiskey or better yet, just stroll on over to the bar. He didn't let himself do that. Father Ramone never did anything like that.

Except with his mother.

He got home and had to think about that. Maybe she didn't know. Maybe he wasn't a priest then. Maybe she was his first. And last. Oh, he hated to think it.

The last time he had sex was with Ivy.

He sat on his bed and wept for a bit. But he cried so that he slinked down to the floor and cried all over again. 

What if that baby wasn't Dan's after all?

He blinked tears. Yes, he and Ivy were always good in bed, but not anywhere else.

This time it really did pain him. He just knew he had to let it alone. Live with it. Is that what his father had done?

Now he was congested, but the tears flowed as if it were a river that had been damned up far too long. He'd decided he was a fool, a complete fool. He tried to breathe, but it was so hard as a pain set heavy in his chest.

But a knocking came on the door. Of course, he didn't want to answer it. But the pounding persisted. So urgent. 

He crawled to get up. His knees hurt. Really, he hadn't felt the same after having COVID all that time ago when he was out in Arizona in prison. He felt weaker now, but he kept telling himself he wasn't.

When he opened the door, it was her. But he didn't know what name she was going by now.