Chris was already waiting at the chain coffee shop where they had arranged to meet. Jon was running a bit late today. He had woken on Alicia's couch; his daughter was staring down at him with a huge grin, dancing from foot to foot and exclaiming his name. Alicia was trying to get her ready for school, and Alison had already left for the diner.
He had offered to take over the task for her. Get their little girl ready and off to school, so that she could go to the diner. At first, she had been reluctant; he did not even know where the school was. Jon made the excuse that in a town this small, everyone knew such things. But the truth was he had gone by there a few times to watch as Hope played with her friends during recess. He had missed so much.
"Hey, man, how's it going?"
"I spent the night at Alicia's," Jon had not meant to say anything, but the words just tumbled out.
"Wow, that's fast. Maybe I should be asking your advice," Chris replied as he brought the paper cup to his lips. "Docs say I should go light on this shit, but hell, it's the elixir of the gods. What's life without coffee?"
Jon laughed, "Just let me grab some, and we can chat."
What he really needed was an excuse, some time to get his thoughts together. How much did he want to share with this man? Sure, they were both jarheads. They shared the bonds of being... Even his mind stumbled over the word. He still could not bring himself to say...disabled. But what other word was there? Injured? Impaired? Different? None of them were any better.
He placed his order. The place was pretty busy, especially for the post-lunch rush. But these places always seemed to be. Whatever happened to a good old fashioned percolator or even a drip coffee pot? But these days, it seemed everyone had to have some posh-ass shit with flavors and cream. Not him, coffee was coffee. And it should never be iced.
If only other things were that simple. He still was uncertain what to say as he took his paper cup with straight black coffee and joined the other man at the table. Maybe he should just listen.
"Sorry, I was late. I had to run back to my hotel to shower and change after I took Hope to school this morning."
The other man chuckled, "You don't need to say anything more. Not even my best drill sergeant voice will get Amy moving in the morning." But there was a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye as he said it.
Jon laughed, "It did not help that I didn't know where anything was."
The other man nodded, "It must be tough. Finding out you have a kid this late."
Jon's mouth dropped at those words.
"Sorry, Alicia and I talked a bit yesterday at the park. She told me the whole story. I thought you knew."
Jon sighed. So much for worrying about what to share with the man. "So, what did she tell you?"
"The no-strings thing. You showing up at the diner the other week. Not knowing what to do. How Hope has been jealous of Amy because she has me and Noah now. And..." He paused.
"Did she tell you she asked me to marry her?" Jon stared at the paper cup; his voice little more than a whisper.
"Yeah, she did. She thought I might have some insight into..."
"Into why I want..."
"Yeah." An awkward silence hung between them for a couple of minutes as each made a show of drinking their coffee, and avoiding the subject they had come here to discuss.
"So, do you? Have some grand insight into why I want a marriage in name only?"
"Because you're still being an asshole and haven't dealt with your shit yet."
Jon wanted to throat punch the other man. What did he know? Except that was just it. He did know. Or at least had to deal with something similar.
"Decided you can't throat punch a cripple yet?" The man smiled.
Jon shook his head, "The jury's still out on that one."
He laughed, "Good cause I can still kick ass. Or at least I'm relearning how to." The other man met his gaze, "There's loads of things I'm having to adjust to. Including the fact that I can't fuck anymore."
Jon was very glad that he had swallowed his coffee. Otherwise, it might have spewed across the room from his mouth and his nose at the man's painfully honest words. He, on the other hand, had no words at the moment.
"Yeah, that's taking some getting used to. But you know as my grandma used to say, there's more than one way to skin a cat. Or, in this case, a pussy."
Jon felt the heat rising in his face at the man's words. This took locker room bragging to a whole other level, and he still was not comfortable enough to speak.
"My dick might not work anymore. Thanks to the bullet that shattered my spine. But my tongue, fingers, and that drawer full of toys that Stacey had collected in her decade as Marine wife, who rarely saw her husband anyway, make damn sure that I keep a smile on our little lady when Noah isn't around."
He paused, "Want another one? I sure as hell need another. Fuck, we should have met at a bar for this chat. Caffeine isn't as good as liquor for this talk."
Jon laughed, "Yeah, you're right there. What you havin'? I'll get them."
The man shook his head, "My legs and cock might not work anymore, but I can still manage to grab a couple of cups of Joe. Let me guess, straight black?"
Jon chuckled, "Is there anything else?"
"Nope. Nothing beats it. Except maybe Jack or Jim. But I promised myself, Noah, and Stacey that I'd stay away from that shit. And I'm clean for almost a year now." He shook his head that was covered with long, surfer blond curls that were liberally sprinkled with grey. The man might talk like a Marine, but he did not look like one.
"But sometimes..." He paused and looked off for a long moment. "I'll be back with those coffees in a couple of minutes."
Jon watched as the man navigated his wheelchair around the tables and chairs strewn about the coffee shop. But more than that, he observed the face of the other customers. Their looks of pity, and the occasional disgust, was something he was more than familiar with.
The man's words had shocked him. To say the least. Though why he was not sure. He knew from his own time in the VA that spinal cord injuries could cause...
Damn, he was having trouble with words today. Impotence. Erectile disfunction. He tried to imagine what that must be like for the man, especially in a relationship like...
What had Alicia called it? Poly? Polyamory? Polyandry, that was it. The idea was way beyond his comfort zone. The thought of sharing her with another man, any other man, would drive him insane. Then, again, if he wanted a marriage in name only, what had she said? About it not being fair. Was it? Was it wrong to expect her to wear his ring, carry his name, and not...?