Past, Present

by A J Lange

  April 6

  I went to dinner with Harry at a new restaurant downtown. We saw Zane with a date while we were waiting to be seated, so we left for a new Thai place down the street. A part of me wanted to stay a little longer, just so I could memorize his face. It’s getting foggier in my dreams.

  He looked handsome. And happy.

  April 14

  Collin took my phone at some point last night and deleted all of my text messages from Zane. I’m furious and heartbroken. I didn’t read them often, but sometimes...sometimes they were the only link to a life I don’t remember. Zane is funny and achingly sweet. I wish I could remember having those brief, electronic conversations, how they made me feel, but in a way, this was almost better, inimitable proof, and I could relive the thrill of discovering him whenever I wanted.

  It was a cruel thing of Collin to do, and I can’t forgive him.

  Zane closed the book, taking a deep breath. If Collin were here, Zane would pound his ass into the ground. What a heartless, vicious thing to do. Gray was remembering, sort of. Maybe not factual, explicit details, but he was remembering feelings, he was remembering that he loved Zane. Zane could almost understand Collin's plight, his frustration. To be the one Gray thought he loved, the one with actual memories attached to the relationship, and for it to still not be enough. Zane was a phantom driving a wedge between them. Were he a more giving man, Zane might have more sympathy for Collin. But currently, he felt only bright anger and acute sorrow.

  He walked to a nearby water fountain and took a long, cool drink. He could see a bonfire in the distance when he stood and wiped his mouth; the sounds of a drumbeat echoed deep and rhythmic. The sun was setting now, darkness beginning to cover the canyon. Soon, the celebration would begin in earnest. Zane returned to the bench to finish the book so he could find Gray before it got too dark.

  April 16

  I leave for New Mexico tomorrow. I have been contemplating driving through Lawrence on my way out. I think I could find my way to Zane’s house. I’ve seen the road many times in my head. I can see the little white house, a Craftsman. It has graduated pillars on the front porch, and the bedroom is painted green. I know the kitchen, I dream of it often. We must have spent a lot of time there.

  I wonder what Zane would say if I showed up on his doorstep? I wonder about the wisdom of that, when I’m still so far removed from everything there. Maybe this NM move really is for the best.

  I wonder how Zane’s date went, if that was a first date, or if they had more.

  April 17

  I drove down Zane’s street. There was a black Jeep in a drive at a little white house and I had to pull over. I thought I was hyperventilating.

  I didn’t go to the door.

  April 20

  I love New Mexico. The arid climate and the beautiful scenery of the canyon is a balm to my broken soul.

  Everything else feels very far away.

  April 22

  I have missed working.

  Zane used to come to the dig site in Lawrence. He told me that, when I was in the hospital, but I remember it now. Some of it, at least. He cut his hand, and I bandaged it. I don’t think we were together yet, because I remember being flustered and nervous, touching his warm skin and wanting to touch more of it.

  I haven’t had any flashes of memory in a long time. It was nice to get one today.

  April 24

  Bond and Free

  Love has earth to which she clings

  With hills and circling arms about-

  Wall within wall to shut fear out.

  But Thought has need of no such things,

  For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

  On snow and sand and turf, I see

  Where Love has left a printed trace

  With straining in the world's embrace.

  And such is Love and glad to be.

  But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

  Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom

  And sits in Sirius' disc all night,

  Till day makes him retrace his flight,

  With smell of burning on every plume,

  Back past the sun to an earthly room.

  His gains in heaven are what they are.

  Yet some say Love by being thrall

  And simply staying possesses all

  In several beauty that Thought fares far

  To find fused in another star.

  I’ve been reading a book of Robert Frost’s poems before I go to bed each night.

  This one reminds me of Zane.

  May 3

  Collin has accepted a position at USC in conjunction with an excavation in Baja. I wish him well. He thinks I will change my mind and go with him, but I am happy with my decision to leave this place at the end of the month. New Mexico has been a brief, but welcome respite.

  I’ve been in touch with KU. I will be teaching adjunct again in the fall. I feel a thrill thinking that I will be in the same city as Zane again. And foolish. And scared out of my mind.

  I wonder if he still dreams of me too?

  What if six months was too long to wait?

  Zane hands were shaking when he closed the book. There were only a few more entries, but none could possibly be as profound as the last one. Gray had been planning to come back to Lawrence. To Zane.

  Zane found him, on the edge of a circle of spectators, seated around a huge bonfire burning hot and bright, sparks of brilliant orange floating high against the blue-black of the night sky. The stars were so plentiful here at the canyon; it almost hurt to look up, Zane’s mind unable to absorb the enormity of it.

  Zane settled next to Gray on the ground, purposefully sitting too close, craving the warm contact of hip against hip, shoulder against shoulder.

  “Did you know the Coquille tribe in Oregon recognizes same sex marriage?” Gray’s eyes were fixed on the fire.

  “I didn’t know that,” Zane said quietly. He took Gray’s hand in his.

  They dancers began to chant, circling the fire, their bright feathers and beads catching the red glow, throwing color and light across the audience with each stomp of the intricate dance.

  Gray squeezed his fingers too tight, but Zane welcomed the pain. He was learning that beginnings were sometimes painful by necessity.

  Chapter 22

  It was apparently impossible to get a room inside the park at the last minute. The girl at the reservation desk had actually laughed at him when Zane ran in to ask. So back to the Jeep they went, following the line of slow-moving cars out of the park’s gate and returning to Tusayan. Zane pulled under the awning at the Best Western for the second time in as many days.

  Gray was out of the car before Zane had a chance to put it in park.

  “Where are you going,” Zane called through the open passenger door, but Gray was already pushing his way inside the lobby. Zane shifted on the seat, fiddling with the radio, waiting for Gray to come back, trying not to remember the awkward tension of the previous night.

  Zane’s restless mind bounced from one uneasy topic to another. He couldn’t stop thinking about the journal; he wondered if Gray would allow him to reread it on occasion. There was something poignant and sweet in the way Gray had written about Zane; he may have lacked tangible moments, but his heart wouldn’t let him forget.

  Zane thought he might owe Gray’s heart an awful lot for that.

  You could never really know another’s thoughts, no matter how long you were with them, but Gray had given that gift to Zane today. Now, Zane was caught between barreling forward as fast as possible and holding back, letting the anticipation and desire stretch between them as long as possible.

  Mostly, Zane didn’t want to screw up.

  Gray returned, bending at the waist to peer through the car door. “All set.”

  Zane raised an eyebrow. “Any particular reason you shot out of here like a man on a mission?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want you fucking up the room thing again.” Gray slammed the
Jeep door and made an oversized gesture, pointing to the empty motel parking spaces.

  Zane rolled his eyes, but parked the car. He was still grumbling under his breath when he opened the back. “I didn’t say two rooms. He did.”

  “Because it sounded like you expected two rooms,” Gray said, materializing at Zane’s elbow.

  Zane jumped. “Jesus, Gray. Make some noise. You almost gave me a heart attack.” Zane self-consciously dropped the hand he had clutched to his chest, willing his heart to slow the fuck down. “And, for the last time. No. I didn’t.”

  Gray grabbed his duffle and slung it over his shoulder. “Doesn’t really matter, now does it? It was an expensive mistake that was entirely your fault.” Zane started to protest but stopped at the even look Gray gave him, expression bland, the fluorescent lamppost casting a halo over his dark head. “We’re not staying in separate rooms again, Zane. ”

  Zane swallowed. Since he didn’t have an argument against that (hell, he would never have an argument against that), he shut and locked the Jeep and followed Gray into the motel.

  It was a King room.

  Gray didn’t screw around when making a statement, Zane mused. The bossy professor called first shower and Zane stretched out on top of the mattress, flipping through the available channels. His heart was still beating a shade too fast; the oversize bed (and the fact that Gray was naked and wet just behind the bathroom door) made Zane fidgety and nervous. He grinned when his phone rang and he saw the caller’s name.

  “Tanner!”

  “I thought you were going to call every day, asshole,” Tanner said affectionately.

  Zane chuckled. “Yeah, well, I got a little sidetracked.”

  “Uh huh.” Tanner’s voice was tinged with amusement. “So...did your absent-mindedness have anything to do with Gray?”

  Zane cleared his throat, glancing at the bathroom door. He could still hear the shower running. “Um, yeah. Gray is with me.” Zane couldn’t help the thrill he got from saying the words out loud. Gray is with me.

  “Thank God,” Tanner breathed, and Zane smiled, touched. He had never really considered how difficult it had been for those around him, forced to watch him try to live without Gray, try to survive. “I hope he made you grovel.”

  “Funny, Tanner. Such a comedian.”

  Zane asked about Lily and the baby, and the bar. “I suppose I should check in with Kenny and Bonnie.”

  “Nah,” Tanner chuckled. “They’re having the time of their life. You may never get the bar back from Bonnie. She’s in her element.”

  Instead of protesting, as Tanner expected him too, Zane was quiet, thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll do something else with the rest of my life, then.”

  At the prolonged silence on the phone, Zane pulled it from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “You still there?”

  “Still here. Just speechless. I never thought you would actually, you know, get a life of your own.”

  “Shut up," Zane said fondly.

  “So...am I interrupting anything?”

  Zane closed his eyes. Fuck his life. “Oh my God, Tanner. No.” He could hear Lily in the background. Are you? What did he say. Ohmygod, let me talk to him. There was a rustle of sound, muffled movements.

  “Zane Nolan, you bring him back right this instant. I mean it. I need to see Gray, I’ve missed him.” Lily’s voice was thick with emotion and Zane frowned.

  “You all right Lils?"

  Lily sniffed loudly and then Zane could tell the phone was being wrestled from her grasp. Tanner Nolan, you asshole— The rest was garbled; Tanner must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand.

  “Sorry about that. Pregnancy hormones,” Tanner said. He was more than a little breathless. Or possibly in pain.

  “She kick you in the nuts?” Zane could commiserate. Lily was quick. And lethal.

  “Not on purpose,” Tanner groaned.

  Zane laughed. “That’s what you think.”

  The bathroom door opened and a cloud of steam rolled into the room. “Hey, Tanner, I’m gonna jump in the shower. Tell Lily, uh,” he looked at Gray self-consciously when he emerged from the bathroom toweling his hair. “Tell her we’ll be home soon.”

  Zane set the phone carefully on the nightstand, avoiding Gray’s eyes, neck hot and prickly.

  Gray advanced to Zane’s side of the bed and Zane scooted back. His eyes bugged when Gray didn’t stop at the edge, but kept right on going, climbing on top of Zane, pushing him against the pillowed headboard. His skin was pink and flushed from the shower, jaw freshly shaven. Water droplets clung to his dark lashes, and Zane barely had time to suck in a quick breath before he lowered his face, only to pause one spare inch from Zane’s. Zane grappled at his waist, skin bare and warm above the low-slung flannel pants. He smelled like shampoo and soap and Gray and Zane’s brain stumbled to a grinding halt.

  Their breaths mingled as Gray hovered there, so close. If Zane licked his suddenly too-dry lips, his tongue would brush Gray’s mouth. His fingers tightened their grasp.

  “Gray,” he whispered. Then Gray’s lips were on his and he was kissing Zane, mouths colliding together with hunger and need and scorching heat. Zane was instantly, painfully hard, and he groaned when Gray shifted position, one knee grazing his groin.

  “Was that Tanner?” Gray’s voice was rough, scraping every nerve ending in Zane’s body. Zane lay panting and stunned beneath him, unable to answer, thoughts tumbling end over end.

  His brain finally connected with his hands and he pushed his fingers through that wet, dark hair, pulling Gray down, trying to maneuver him flat and flush against him. He most definitely did not want to talk about his brother; he wanted back inside that searing mouth. Gray resisted, arms trembling with the effort to hold himself above Zane. He teased a light, lingering kiss over Zane’s lips, and Zane groaned again, this time in frustration.

  “Gray,” he whined. He gave up, dropping against the headboard with a thud. “You’re a cocktease,” he breathed huskily.

  Gray laughed darkly. “Take a shower, Zane. You stink.”

  Zane closed his eyes, trying to calm his racing heart. He ached against the strain of the rough denim of his jeans. He felt the soft, wet brush of a tongue across his bottom lip and he opened his mouth to let Gray dip inside again, the gentle dance and suction driving him a little crazy.

  Then Gray was standing, taking all of his damp, heated skin and fucking hot kisses with him, leaving Zane sprawled across the bed, breathing too hard, every cell screaming with desire.

  Gray calmly picked up the ice bucket and the room key and walked to the door. “I’m going to get some ice.”

  Zane stared at the ceiling for a beat then exhaled, long and deep. “I guess I’m going to take a shower.”

  “You seem a little overheated, Zane. You might want to stick to cold water."

  Zane could hear the smirk in Gray’s voice as he left the room. and closed his eyes. Fuck.

  ◆◆◆

  Zane was shivering when he stepped out of the shower. He had taken Gray's teasing suggestion.

  At least his head was clear, he thought as he dressed. His mind skipped over the past few days, how different they had been from last week, last month. How different he was, how three days could take him from blank, flat, devastated to...hopeful. He brushed his teeth, wiped down the sink and countertop.

  He was stalling.

  He stared at his reflection above the sink. When he left Lawrence, he had had no concrete plan. He had known he was either going to find Gray and figure out once and for all if their fractured relationship could ever be healed, or he was going to go find a new life, somewhere else.

  Zane had never let himself imagine that he would find a happy ending; before he met Gray, he had never believed in happy endings anyway. Then Gray had gone and proved Zane wrong, right up until he had ultimately proven him right.

  Now Zane was here, with Gray, on a cross-country journey of discovery, getting acquainted, falling
in love. All over again. Lightening wasn’t supposed to strike twice, or so Zane had always been told, but his heart was in vigorous disagreement. His chest burned, glowing with sentiment and passion whenever Gray was near, hearts reaching out, longing to connect.

  Zane thought of the tenuous filament of thread he had imagined joined them, when Gray was sleeping after the accident, and Zane was hanging on to the spark that wavered between them, hanging on for dear life. The thread was still there, coiling around Zane and wrapping him up in its cocoon, urging him to let down his defenses and lower his guard.

  When Zane finally screwed up the courage to leave the bathroom, he found Gray lying diagonally across the large bed, sound asleep. Zane smiled ruefully and rubbed a hand across his mouth. Well that’s just awesome. Leave it to Zane to have a nervous breakdown in the bathroom and miss the first real opportunity he had had for sex in six months. With the object of his every fantasy, no less.

  He checked the door latch, and returned to the bed. He paused, spotting a folded white square of paper on the nightstand. His heart dropped; it was folded in the same size and shape as the note he had let float away over the canyon rim.

  His fingers held a fine tremble as he unfolded the scrap.

  Zane,

  To replace the one you let go, this one untainted by lies and half truths. Put it in your pocket so that you will always have me at your fingertips, and I will always know I’m in your hands.

  Gray

  ps. I really did have hot sex dreams about you. Some day you and I are going to talk about that and sort out which parts were true. I might need you to demonstrate.

  Zane grinned and looked over at the dark head currently hogging all of the pillows in the center of the bed. He refolded the paper, carefully following the neatly pressed lines and laid it on the nightstand beside their phones. He stared at them thoughtfully, sneaking a glance at the sleeping form beside him. He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and picked up Gray’s phone, turning if off. Then he took his phone and began scrolling through his old text messages.