We’d hauled a ton of crap out to the large construction dumpster that had been delivered near the end of the gravel drive but out of view of the cameras. I knew Cooper was probably sore from all the bending and lifting, but he hadn’t complained.
We’d both taken quick showers and were now happily decked out in our pajamas, anticipating a big dinner. It was kind of like a sleepover in a weird way. Cooper had even suggested watching a movie on the big screen TV in the bedroom. His mom had sent him with an old DVD player and a stack of movie discs.
“So I was thinking,” Cooper began. His back was still turned to me as he continued putting together a salad to go with the chili baked potatoes he’d made. The RV smelled amazing, and Nacho was drooling a little puddle on the floor from it.
“Yeah?”
“I know you wanted to work on the flooring tomorrow.”
“The subfloor,” I corrected.
“Whatever. But I was also thinking we could take that drone for a spin and get some good aerial shots I can use to do an intro post on the project. I was watching some YouTube videos today and they have these great clips as part of their opening bit. But I don’t really know how to do any of that since I’m not used to working with drones or video editing. So I thought if you showed me how to do both—work the drone and do some basic video editing—it would help me take some of that load off you.”
Cooper seemed uncomfortable, so I hurried to reassure him. “But I like doing that stuff.”
“No, I know. And I don’t want to take it away from you. That’s not what I’m saying at all. But I feel like…” He sighed and stopped talking. I didn’t push since I figured everyone needed a little time to get their thoughts together sometimes. When he brought our plates to the table and sat down, he finally continued. “I feel like I don’t really bring anything to the table here except being gay.”
“You brought chili baked potatoes to the table. That’s good.” My attempt at a joke didn’t seem to work.
“Nine…”
“You bring a lot to the table.” So maybe I had to think about it before I could give an example. “People like you. You make people laugh and smile. I don’t do that. People are watching me to learn a skill, or maybe they’re watching me because they like my physical shell, but they’re going to watch you because you’re funny and you say things that are interesting.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Hardly.”
“No, seriously. Like… like that video post you did earlier today where you couldn’t stop laughing because you were telling that story about the boobie balloons from a bachelorette party getting caught on the church steeple. The story itself was funny, but seeing you keep stopping to giggle like that was ten times better. That’s you. You’re entertaining.”
Cooper seemed to relax a little. He took a sip from his water bottle. “Thanks. But I still think it makes sense for me to learn some video editing. And if you teach me how to work the drone, I’ll use it to get shots of you working. People will like that.”
I nodded. He was right. It made complete sense for him to learn how to do those things, and I certainly didn’t want him to feel like he was useless. “Okay. We’ll do it tomorrow.” I took a bite of the chili and groaned. “This is so good. What did you put in this?”
He laughed. “It’s just canned chili with Worcestershire sauce. Heath family secret. Don’t tell anyone.”
“I make baked potatoes sometimes, but I never thought about putting canned chili on them. Super easy. Would be good in the winter too. I never know what to make, so half the time I show up at Mom and Dad’s for dinner.”
“You don’t live on the farm? For some reason I thought you did.”
“No, I rent a little garage apartment near Walt’s. Helps me save on gas since I can walk to work.”
We continued to eat in easy silence only broken by the sound of Nacho’s desperation.
“I thought you fed him,” Cooper finally said with a chuckle.
“I did. But chili is much tastier than dog food. He’s no dummy.”
Cooper finished his potato and sat back, taking another sip of his water. When he set the bottle down, he crossed his arms over his chest. “We’ve been getting along all day.”
I glanced up at him. “That a problem?”
“No. I just mean… we didn’t always get along. I kind of expected us to want to kill each other if we had to be stuck in an RV together.”
“It’s only day two,” I reminded him with a grin.