The Hideaway Inn

by Philip William Stover

“You’re with your kid tomorrow. It’s a holiday. I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve told Jules all about you. They would love to meet you. It will be fun and I’d love to have you meet them.” You are falling right into my plan, Vince, and you may not even know it.

  “Um...” He hesitates but he doesn’t really have a choice.

  “It’s settled,” Anita says like a judge slamming her gavel as she renders a verdict. “Don’t come home until that folder is empty.”

  I take the folder from Anita and look at Vince. Idyllic country fair. Me and my adorable kid on the offense. Vince’s defense doesn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jules has Tack’s eyes—sky blue circles with gray sparks around the center. I was nervous about meeting them for a million different reasons but the second I get in Tack’s truck Jules starts asking me questions, singing me songs from school and telling me made-up stories. They are clearly amped up for the Fourth of July festival and their energy is very infectious. They have this joy about them and it makes me feel playful—something I haven’t felt in a very long time.

  “Our principal had a pet hippo,” I say as we drive up River Road in Tack’s truck with Jules sitting between us. I roll down the window and a steady rush of morning summer air rushes through the cab. A steep rock formation is on our left and on the right, I can see some early morning kayakers making their way down the river. Jules hangs on Tack. Tack is beaming. He’s also driving more carefully than I have ever seen him before. I haven’t hit my head on the roof once.

  “Pet hippo?” Jules asks.

  “Yep,” I say. “Kept him half the time in the swimming pool and the other half on the soccer field.”

  “Oh, is that how you and my dad know each other? Did you play sports? My dad played football. And track.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I say. “But I didn’t really play any sports. I don’t like them.”

  “Me neither,” Jules says as they move their grip from Tack’s arm to my hand.

  The suddenness of this makes me uncomfortable but I’m not so much of an asshole as to push away a child’s affection. Is this okay with Tack? I look over at him and he is smiling so brightly he could light the way if a full eclipse were in the forecast.

  This morning I was nervous about meeting Jules because I’m not really good with kids. I haven’t really been around that many and I generally keep my distance. I guess I don’t have very good memories of being a kid myself so it’s hard for me not to be tense around children. I’m always thinking they’re going to see me as a fraud, see past my exterior to something inside that is broken. But Jules has this honesty about them that isn’t scary, it’s affirming. I can understand how Jules’s energy made Tack serious about coming out.

  Jules continues telling a story to us about their new camp and how they let them take whatever craft they want instead of making them play the sports. They talk about loving things with feathers that sparkle, applesauce when it has cinnamon in it and that they want to drive the world’s biggest dump truck when they are older.

  “I thought you wanted to drive old Axel here?” Tack asks Jules with a pretend frown on his face.

  “Sure, Dad. Maybe after the dump truck,” Jules says and then they whisper in my ear, “Don’t say anything bad about the truck. Dad is totally in love with Axel. You just have to go with it.”

  “I got it,” I whisper back and nod my head. Tack rubs the top of Jules’s head and then smiles at me and in that moment my biggest fear is realized before we are even out of the truck. Sure, I was nervous about being around a kid but what really terrified me was how I would feel seeing Tack with Jules. I’ve been working so hard to keep an emotional wall between us and not let that intimacy from the stream return but here it is rushing in like the wind from the open window.

  “I knew you’d understand,” Jules says and Tack lets out a low chuckle. There is already a cozy dynamic with all three of us and I roll up the window as quickly as possible to stop the breeze but I think it might be too late.

  * * *

  The Fourth of July festival is buzzing by the time we get there. Red, white and blue bunting decorates the weathered wood barn in the center of the park. The massive barn doors are open, revealing the cavernous space that has been turned into a temporary art gallery. There are stalls with local artists, community organizations and activities for kids and families scattered around. A midsummer breeze makes the American flags that dot the fairground wave gently. Some food trucks are gathered by the entrance near the picnic tables covered with red and white tablecloths, and the hot dogs and fry oil already make the air smell delicious but fattening.

  “Let’s go visit Paul,” Jules says, grabbing my hand.

  “It looks like you’ve made a friend,” Tack says as Jules runs ahead of me, pulling my arm.

  “No,” they say. “I want you both to come.” Jules continues holding my hand with their right arm and then grabs their dad’s hand with their left so they are in the middle between us. The three of us run together and without saying a word we both swing Jules’s arms so they rise up a few inches in the air. They cackle with laughter. We get to the petting zoo and Jules decides to make sure each animal gets a fair share of food and the same amount of petting.

  “Do you want to go in the bouncy castle?” Tack asks.

  “No,” Jules says with a serious look on their face. They look over at the other kids jumping and laughing. I immediately notice that kids have to be with an adult in the petting zoo but the bouncy attractions are kids only. I notice the look of concern on their face. I can tell Jules is unsure about being with the other kids without their dad around.

  “But this morning you said that was what you wanted to do most after feeding Paul.”

  “I know,” they say. I can sense the nervousness in their voice.

  “I have an idea,” I say. “Why don’t we see who can make the most magical wand in the crafts tent? I bet your dad doesn’t know a rhinestone from a rock.”

  “Yeah!” Jules shouts and within a few minutes all six of our hands are covered in glitter, glue and rhinestones.

  * * *

  By the middle of the afternoon the festival is swarming with people. We’ve handed out plenty of menus for The Hideaway and Tack does a great job of selling and describing his creations. We’ve visited the petting zoo a number of times, eaten corn dogs, cotton candy and lemonade, looked at the photos and paintings at the art exhibit in the barn, and Jules made a sword with a jeweled handle and feathers on the tip so it “doesn’t hurt anybody” after we each finished our wands.

  Walking around the festival I think about when I was growing up how I hated everything about this area. I thought it was so boring and Podunk. I thought I would never find a way to be a part of it. I was sure there would be better things waiting for me in a big city like New York but after a day here with Tack and Jules now I wonder if those things are just different, not better.

  “I think maybe I want to go in the bouncy castle now. Can I?” Jules asks Tack.

  “Are you sure?” Tack asks, seeing that it’s even more crowded with kids. “Do you want us to go over there with you?”

  “No, you guys can wait here.” Tack gives them the okay and they run over, kick off their shoes and start bouncing before they even get inside. Tack and I sit next to each other in a quiet spot across from the bouncy castle.

  “I’m exhausted,” I say and lean back on the bench and spread myself for a quick stretch that I’m too tired to finish.

  “Cooking for a full dining room is nothing compared to keeping up with Jules.”

  I can hear music coming from a small brass band playing at a bandshell on the other side of the festival. It’s some kind of patriotic march like you would hear at a parade. A gentle breeze sweeps across us and we both sigh almost in unison. We sit in our silence
for a while. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this to return, one where we are connected without talking. It’s so easy to be around Tack. I can just relax for a few moments. I never thought there was a place for me in picture-perfect Americana but maybe that frame has shifted recently and become more inclusive. Maybe I can belong in places where I never thought I was allowed.

  A clown making balloon animals pops a poodle’s head right in front of us and it breaks the spell.

  “You ever think about having one?” Tack asks.

  “A balloon animal?”

  “No,” he says, slapping me playfully on the arm. “A kid. Have you ever thought about having a kid?”

  No one has ever asked me that before. I’ve always been too focused on success to really give it serious thought.

  “I mean, I know you don’t want a boyfriend or a husband. Your career comes first and all, but I just thought it might have crossed your mind at some point.”

  I still don’t know how to answer him. I never really thought it was something realistic to consider. I know gay men adopt and have surrogates but generally you need a partner for that and I never thought that was part of my plan.

  “If I did have a kid, I know I would want them to have a different life than I did.”

  “In what way?”

  All a kid like Jules really needs is someone to listen to them. I know that’s what I needed. I wouldn’t need to give Jules advice about what to do or how to act. I’d just wait until they came home from school and listen to everything they had to say. I look at Tack and say, “I’d ask questions about how they feel and their friends and what they like to do and what scares them. I’d make sure they felt heard in every way. I would raise a kid to be themselves. To not be scared of anything. I’d protect them from all the people in the world who would want them to fit in.” I speak firmly and decisively. Tack is listening to me with his ears but keeping one eye on his kid in the bounce house. “Like you’re doing with Jules,” I say.

  “Thanks, Vince. That means a lot to me. It definitely sounds like we are on the same page about what a kid needs.”

  I never thought Tack could be any sexier. I’ve fantasized about his body since I was a teenager and that fantasy has never gotten old. But there is something about seeing how tender he is with Jules and knowing that he is finally out to the world that makes me want him more deeply than I have ever imagined. The thought of us being on the same page about raising a kid makes my head spin.

  A breeze sweeps across our faces and I let it blow my hair across my forehead without any resistance. It’s about two months until Labor Day and I can’t keep this fight up that long. “About the other day,” I start but it takes a second to get up my courage. “In the stream.”

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it. I get it,” he says and I see his bottom lip rise as a frown appears across his face.

  “No, it’s not. I mean... I’m sorry I got so weird after and shut you out. That’s not what I want to do.”

  “What do you want, Vince?” he says, looking at me.

  His hand is resting on the bench just a few inches from mine. Inch by inch I move closer to his until his pinky is aligned with mine. As soon as our skin connects he smiles. He keeps looking ahead but I know the connection is powerful. It’s not like kissing in the stream. That was pure sexual heat. This is different.

  I take my hand and move it on top of his. It lands there for just a second before he turns his over so that my hand is in his palm and then he covers it with his fingers. We are sitting on a bench at the Tinicum Fourth of July Festival and now we are both smiling.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tack

  “Wait. Where are you going?” Vince asks as I drive past The Hideaway after dropping off Jules with Evie. The sun has finally left the midsummer sky but there is still a pink and golden hue hanging on to the last moments of the holiday.

  “I’m not ready for today to end. How about you?” I ask.

  Vince moves his hand to the top of my thigh and I move my right hand down from the steering wheel to meet his. “No, I’m not ready either, but where are we going?” he asks.

  “I know a spot I’ve been wanting to take you to for a very, very long time.” The farther we get from town the louder the sounds of crickets and other woodland creatures become. I softly brush the top of his hands with my fingers as rows of pristine Victorian homes transition to trees and countryside. The pastel tones of evening become the inky darkness of night. It feels like we are the only two people in the world.

  I pull over to the old little league field by the river that hasn’t been used since I was in middle school. Patches of grass have grown over the sandy infield and I drive right down the middle of it to the center of the park.

  “You get the best view of them here and it’s about to hit peak season.” I reach behind Vince and grab a wool plaid blanket. “Come on,” I say softly and lead him to the bed of the pickup truck where I unfold the blanket, making a soft nest for us. We sit next to each other and watch as the show begins.

  It takes a second for our eyes to adjust and then they appear. Little blinks of orange light appear and disappear in random order. Something about this field being near the river and next to a forest reserve makes this spot a paradise for lightning bugs. We lie down on the blanket next to each other and stare up holding hands. The sky seems to be filled with them now. Electric orange sequins dot the darkness. It’s serenely beautiful and awe-inspiring. The tails glow and dim so gently and the pattern they make across the sky is like electric confetti that has been suspended in time. We hear fireworks far off in the distance but we have our own private show.

  Vince squeezes my hand as the fireflies create a force field around us.

  “Thank you for bringing me here. I never knew a baseball diamond could become so magical.” Orange glows appear, disappear and reappear. I roll on my side and Vince does the same. I want to kiss him so badly. I want us to take this further but I need to be patient. I need to let him make the next move. There is just enough moonlight to stare into his dark brown eyes that sometimes look like rich leather but tonight look like melting chocolate. Just as I’m beginning to think I could stay looking at him this way forever he makes his move. He reaches for my mouth with his. It’s an easy kiss. Slow and comfortable like a favorite T-shirt you’ve found in the back of your closet. This doesn’t feel like it’s about the past. This feels like a new beginning, at least to me.

  I press my body against his. I want to feel every inch of it on mine. I want to be closer to him than I have ever been before. My hands move across his chest, feeling his big muscles and moving my fingers through his thick hair. I know he uses his body to buffer himself from the world but in this moment it feels like he is giving me permission to go beyond that, to see him and feel him for who he is.

  We stay with our mouths connected. At first, his tongue is tentative and unsure of the landscape, then it goes deeper in mine, exploring parts of me that have been dormant like a crop of broad beans waiting for the frost to end. My tongue explores his mouth also but mine lacks any hesitation whatsoever. I may not have been down this route yet but it feels like I’ve always known his road map.

  Vince reaches for my pants and I don’t wait for him to take them off. I pull them down to my ankles and get at least one foot out so I can be more mobile. Before I can get my pants off Vince is diving for my dick. He puts it in his mouth and I think I might shoot immediately. I move my hands through his hair and whisper, “Slow down.”

  “I can’t,” he says. “I’ve waited most of my life for this.”

  I put my hand on his chin and gently tilt his head up so we’re looking at each other. “So have I, Vince. So have I.”

  He rips the other leg of my pants off over my foot. He spreads my legs with his arms and dives for my dick again. I focus on the pleasure and that helps me fight a
n immediate orgasm. He takes all of my dick into his mouth and the sensation is wet and hot and so intense that I forget about the damn butterflies or fireflies or whatever they are illuminating this incredible blow job.

  But I don’t want Vince to have all the fun. I unbuckle his belt and help him slide off his pants. I shift myself so he still has access to my dick but I am also in front of his dick. He’s already been pulling on it so it’s full and hard. His is shorter than mine but much thicker, so thick I hesitate, thinking I might not be able to get my mouth around it. My jaw stretches open. Challenge accepted. I’m all over his dick with my lips and tongue and my hands. All of my energy at that moment is on getting Vince to come. It’s all I can think about until he levels up on my dick.

  Vince starts putting his hand right next to his mouth as we sixty-nine, stroking deeper and sucking harder. The intense feeling happening down below is almost more than I can take but I don’t let it distract me. I push my head up and down on his dick, letting it stretch open my jaw until I think it will snap but I don’t give a fuck. I just want to please him, to taste him, to be connected to...

  “Oh man. Tack, Tack. I’m gonna... I’m so close...”

  “Vince, babe, me too, I’m going...”

  Vince comes across my lips and as soon as the first drop hits me my dick knows and covers him in my load.

  He moans so loud I swear a few fireflies get frightened and fly away.

  I laugh and it makes my stomach bounce by Vince’s head and that seems to make him laugh too. We are on our backs lying head to toe and I feel his hand move down my thigh and reach for mine. I move my hand up and reach for his. It only takes a second for my breathing to slow down and I hear his breath slowing too until we are both breathing calmly. We begin inhaling and exhaling in sync. It feels good to be in sync. Finally.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tack stands behind me and puts his arms around my waist and it makes my whole body vibrate. His hands slide over mine as I steady the mixing bowl on the counter with one hand and use the other to keep stirring with the whisk. I’m trying to help out in the kitchen before we officially open the doors for our re-reopening. I know I’m more of a nuisance than actual assistance but I can’t stay away from Tack lately. I need to be near him.