Never Again – 12

 

Joseph hadn't been lying to Beth when he said he had no intention of finding someone to share his life. He'd had someone once—and lost him. Even after all these years, he had never forgotten the debilitating pain he'd felt when he learned of Rawleigh's death.

He had never allowed himself to love anyone before he met Rawleigh. Of course, when it came down to it, he hadn't had much choice. He was a rarity, a shifter, and there were few enough of those as it was. He was also gay, so perpetuating the family line was not an option. With Rawleigh, against all common sense, he had let his heart rule his mind and fallen deeply in love—with a human.

"Never again," he had vowed after Rawleigh's death. He'd kept the vow, locking his heart away and living his life alone.

Enough, he chastised himself as he left the BEN offices and headed out into the sweltering heat of mid-afternoon New Orleans. I have better things to do than relive the past.

As he walked the half block to where he'd parked his car he paused, looking across the street at a small group of homeless people huddled together in the shade under the Pontchartrain Expressway. They, or at least people like them, seemed to be there every day.

Trying to find somewhere at least minimally cooler than the sidewalks, I suppose. Better them than me. And that was a particularly self-indulgent thought.

He remembered it twenty minutes later as he pulled into the driveway of his Garden District home. For whatever reason, probably because he'd seen the first ones, it seemed as if there were homeless people everywhere, alone or together in groups of two or more.

"When did this become such a problem?" He murmured when he stepped into the cool confines of his marble entryway. "How have I not seen it before? Because," he answered himself dryly, "I wander around with blinders on if it doesn't have to do with work."

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, for the moment at least, he went into the kitchen to find something to fix for an early supper. He found what he needed, setting the makings on the marble counter in the center of the kitchen then putting together two large meat and cheese sandwiches with all the trimmings. Taking them and a cold bottle of beer, he headed out to the backyard where he sat down on the low, brick wall surrounding a small pond filled with koi, dropping bits of bread to them while he ate.

"So, my good fellows," he said, tossing the koi the last scraps of his meal, "just what do you think I should do next with my life?"

The fish, of course, didn't answer but then he hadn't expected them to. He had found, however, that using them as a sounding board sometimes helped him focus on what was bothering him. But unfortunately not this evening. So he went back inside, cleaned up his dishes, and debated what to do next. It wasn't really too much of a decision. He hadn't been out of the city for two weeks. He needed to go to his usual spot and run. He hoped it would clear his mind.