Grand Adventures

by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  “You just got back.” His voice was incredulous. “Why are you out drinking when you were on your way over to Wade’s place to tell him how you feel?”

  I peeled the label off my beer bottle instead of answering him.

  “Kevin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something.”

  “Are you coming or not?”

  “I am, but that’s what you were going to do, right? Confess your love to him and ask him to marry you and have babies?”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled. “I was just gonna finally man up and tell him the truth, that’s all.”

  “About how you feel.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered.

  There was a silence. “Kev?”

  I coughed.

  “How long’s it been?”

  “Huh?”

  “How long have you been in love with Wade Kingman?”

  “I’m not in love,” I clarified.

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “It’s not love.”

  “Oh, sorry, wanted to fuck him, then,” Fallon corrected. “Is that better?”

  “Don’t be crude.”

  “Me? Are you kidding?”

  “I—”

  “You’re the king of talkin’ trash.”

  And normally I was, or could be, or had been. It wasn’t really me anymore.

  “How long have you wanted him?” he yelled into the phone.

  For as long as I could remember. I cleared my throat and said, “I dunno.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  “Just let it go.”

  “Kevin Chaney!”

  “I—”

  “You need to talk to him.”

  I shook my head.

  “I can’t see you, so if you’re shrugging or shaking your head or—”

  “No. I don’t need to do anything, and I’m not going to.”

  “What? Why the fuck not?”

  “He’s not ready.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “He’s only been divorced a year,” I mumbled.

  “Divorced because he’s gay.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What are you talking about?” Fallon asked, his voice ratcheting up in volume.

  “He’s not looking to settle down.”

  “How do you know this? Are you psychic?”

  “I don’t need to be.”

  “Make me understand what that means.”

  “Just drop it.”

  “Fuck no. You’ve known the guy forever, right? He’s your best friend and the guy you love and—”

  “Was.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  I nodded.

  “You have to use words. I can’t see you.”

  “Was,” I repeated irritably.

  “Was what?”

  “The guy I loved.”

  “Oh shit,” Fallon groaned. “What happened?”

  He didn’t want me. “It’s not gonna work out.”

  “What do you mean, ‘It’s not gonna work out’? Did you tell him you loved him?”

  I didn’t get the chance. “No.”

  “No?” he barked, annoyed. “But you told me you were gonna go over there and—”

  “Please, let it go.”

  “Kev, you and Wade… you’ve been friends since you were thirteen, for crissakes, and I know you’ve loved the guy since—”

  “I never said I loved him,” I muttered.

  “Are you kidding?” he groused. “We could all tell!”

  It doesn’t matter anymore. “It’s not gonna happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Fal—”

  “Why?” he insisted, almost shouting at me from the other end of the line.

  “’Cause he was kissing some guy on his couch when I got to his place tonight.”

  “What?”

  “I shouldn’t have used my key when he didn’t answer the door. That was my mistake.” My voice came out hollow and disjointed.

  “You’re fucking with me.”

  “Which is why you’re only supposed to use spare keys your friends give you to water their plants or feed their pets. You should not carry them around otherwise.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “It’s his house,” I said, defeated. “He can have anyone there he wants.”

  “Yeah, but I thought—”

  “It’s fine,” I said sharply. “He’s sowing his oats after being married for two years. I get it. Got it. Whatever. Message received.”

  “What are you—”

  “Instead of wanting me, he’s making out with strangers in his living room.”

  “I—”

  “Or maybe not strangers. I dunno. I’ve been gone for three months; maybe he and that guy are getting married. How the fuck should I know?”

  “But—”

  “Whatever I built up in my head was just stupid.”

  Fallon made a noise like he was disgusted with me. “I’ll be right there. Don’t move.”

  But I had nowhere to be and so sat and waited after he ended the call.

  He was there twenty minutes later, all thunder and lightning as he crossed the floor, no one stopping him or hitting on him even though, of the two of us, he was the pretty one with his black hair and blue eyes. He started right in on me. “That’s it? You’re just gonna give up?”

  “We’re in different places,” I said resolutely as he signaled for the bartender and took a seat beside me.

  “What are you—”

  “It’s fine,” I said sharply.

  “Kev—”

  “He’s at the fuck-tricks-on-couches phase; I’m at the settle-down-and-buy-a-house phase. It’s just not gonna work out.”

  Fallon squinted at me.

  “We want different things,” I answered. “And that’s nobody’s fault.”

  “Yeah, but you’re both gay.”

  “I’m gay. He’s bi.”

  “You both like dick, right?”

  I leaned forward and put my head in my hands. “Please stop talking.”

  “I don’t see the problem. You wanna sleep with him; he wants to sleep with you. What am I missing?”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Just because two men like other men doesn’t mean that they’re gonna end up together.” I sat up and chuckled, smiling sadly at my older brother. “Being gay isn’t some magical recipe for love, just like being straight isn’t. Look how long it took you to find Kate. When it happens, it happens.”

  “I know that, but we’re talking about you and Wade Kingman, and he loves you. I know he does.”

  “Obviously not,” I countered. “He doesn’t think about me like that.”

  “How do you know if you didn’t tell him?”

  “Did you miss the part where I told you he was kissing some guy on his couch?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  I made it clear. “He doesn’t want me. If he did, he wouldn’t have been with anyone else. There would only be me.”

  “But you didn’t tell him before you walked out of his place. You didn’t man up and say, ‘Wade, buddy, I love you.’”

  I squinted at him. “Are you high?”

  “Shut the fuck up! I’m just saying, how the fuck is he supposed to know you love him? Is he psychic?”

  “Just drop it.”

  “No, Kev, this is your life. It’s too important. You don’t just let it go.”

  But if he’d seen what I’d seen, he would. The image of Wade lying under some guy on his couch…. The whole scene was seared into my brain. I’d need a lobotomy to lose the image. “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not,” Fallon argued. “Have you called him since then? Did you even say anything when he saw you, or did you just chuck the key onto the coffee table and run outta there with your tail between your legs?”

  “I come off like suc
h a coward in your version.”

  “Because you are,” he rasped. “Who does that? Who doesn’t stand and fight for what they want? Who runs away?”

  “People who see the situation for what it is.”

  “And what’s that? Hopeless?”

  “No. Nothing,” I corrected. “There’s simply nothing there.”

  Fallon took a drink of the scotch and water the bartender had put in front of him. “I think you owe it to Wade to tell him what you wanted.”

  “But it doesn’t matter what I want if he doesn’t want it too,” I assured him.

  And it was true. Wade Kingman had taken the opportunity while I was out of town cross-training some local law enforcement personnel in ATF hostage negotiation tactics to bring home a one-night stand.

  “My wife thinks you’re plenty hot.”

  “Your wife is biased because she loves me.”

  He grunted.

  I groaned and covered my eyes, and we were quiet for several long minutes, both of us lost in thought.

  “And so,” he prodded, always the older brother wanting the facts, “what’s your plan now?”

  Twisting in my seat, I faced him. “When this last job ended, my boss offered me a slot with the team going out to Quantico to train some of their agents. He said he could use me, but I turned him down ’cause I wanted to come home and talk to Wade, not be gone for another six months.”

  “But sadly, it turns out you didn’t have the balls to—”

  “You know, Fal, I—”

  “And? Continue,” he directed.

  I gritted my teeth. “But now there’s no reason not to go.”

  “So you’re leaving for six months?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I already called and told them I’m in.”

  “But I was looking forward to hanging out.”

  “We never hang out.”

  He tipped his head back and forth like maybe I was right.

  “But anyway, I’ll e-mail, and I’ll be back before Thanksgiving so you don’t have to go see the folks and do the extended-family thing by yourself.”

  His smile was all his, bright and buoyant. I had always loved to be on the receiving end of it, ever since I could remember, wanting to please him. “Bless you.”

  II.

  THREE DAYS after I got home, I was at the store because there was nothing at my place, not even coffee, and I had to stop eating every meal out. Grocery shopping was a lost art. I needed a housekeeper like all the bachelors in sixties TV shows.

  “Kevin!”

  As I pivoted, I was slammed into hard, arms wrapping tight around my waist. Alice Conway, Wade’s niece, his sister Georgia’s daughter, was absolutely shrieking with excitement to see me. And even though I was worried that her uncle would be with her rather than her mommy, I couldn’t bring myself to just pry her off and walk away. We had too much history, and whatever was going on between the grown-ups had nothing to do with the cute little face gazing up at me.

  “You didn’t tell me you came home!” she accused me, her big brown eyes full of hurt and happiness. “I didn’t see you for so long!”

  “You saw me on the computer all the time I was gone.” I went down on one knee, reminding her of our many Skype sessions. “I told you I was out of town teaching people how to be like me.”

  “I know.”

  “Did I miss anything big?” I asked, knowing I hadn’t.

  “No.” Her eyes got rounder. “I only went to second grade.”

  Grunting, I poked her in the stomach. “That kid, what’s his name, the one with the chipped tooth? He still around?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Battle.”

  “His name is Battle? Really?”

  Lots of nodding followed. “Mommy said that he must have been a joy to deliver.”

  I snorted out a laugh as a mixed blessing arrived. The person with Alice was, in fact, not her uncle, but neither was it her bright-eyed, effervescent mother, Georgia Conway. It turned out to be my ex-best friend’s mother, Elaine Kingman, who came flying around the end of the aisle, yelling for her granddaughter.

  “Kevin,” she gasped, the happy surprise there in her voice as she rushed forward.

  I rose, and she lunged, and I had both grandmother and granddaughter hugging me.

  “Oh, Kevin, he misses you so,” she whispered.

  “I doubt that.” I soothed as my stomach growled. “You guys wanna eat?”

  Alice wanted clam chowder and donuts, a revolting combination, so we went around the corner to a bistro. Elaine excused herself so she could call Georgia and tell her where they were as Alice and I shared a maple fritter with bacon bits sprinkled on it.

  Alice smiled. “You’re the only one who eats these with me.”

  “That’s because I have a death wish,” I explained.

  When Elaine returned she took hold of my hand and searched my eyes—for what, I wasn’t sure.

  “Talk to me, Goose,” I teased.

  “Why are you hiding from my son?”

  I shook my head. “I am so not hiding from your—”

  “Then why isn’t he with you? You two have been inseparable since you were thirteen years old.”

  “We’re very different people, Elaine, and it was bound to happen.”

  “I—”

  “He’s an appraiser, I’m an ATF agent. Our hours aren’t exactly compatible.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “He’s straight, I’m gay. That was bound to eventually put a dent in our friendship.”

  “Kevin—”

  “Down the road,” I assured her, “when he’s married and so am I, I’m sure we’ll drift back together. People do that.”

  “Yes, but in the meantime, what? You were Wade’s first friend here, and meeting your mother and then your father was a blessing for Alex and me.”

  Wade’s folks and mine were fast friends who got together at every opportunity. They played board games, cards, had barbecues, bowled, and even went on a cruise before that whole cruising situation got dicey. After watching the news, I had called a moratorium on any of them traveling by that means. Planes, yes; ships, no.

  “You came home from college to attend Georgia’s graduation just because she asked and didn’t miss her college one even though you’d been shot a week earlier.”

  “That sounds so cool when you—”

  “Kevin Bartholomew Chaney!”

  “Oh God,” I groaned, laughing at her. “Could you not say Bar—”

  “Bartholomew?” Alice sounded repulsed.

  “Delete that,” I ordered.

  She cackled. “Awesome.”

  “That’s perfect,” I groused, throwing up my hands and glaring at Elaine.

  She smacked the back of my head, hard, and she was wearing a really thick wedding band.

  “Nana!” Alice scolded.

  “Just eat your donut,” she directed before her gaze snapped back to mine. “You were at Georgia’s wedding, and you were the one who carried Tom home from the bachelor party when Wade passed out.”

  It was true, but… “You knew about that?”

  “I’m a mother. I know about everything.”

  Terrifying thought.

  And she continued. “You were at the hospital when Alice was born. You’re the one who drove me home from the hospital after Alex had open-heart surgery and both my kids and your parents were out of town.”

  “Everyone got on a plane as fast as they could.” I could vouch for them.

  “Yes, Kevin, I know,” she snapped, her voice rising, “but that’s hardly the point. You were simply there without being asked. One minute I was alone, and the next I had an arm around me.”

  “Elaine—” I began.

  “No,” she said sharply, stopping me. “You’re part of our lives. My husband misses watching football with you, I miss feeding you, Georgia misses hearing about your cases, and Alice misses barbecuing with you and having you chase her around the backyard.”

  “Yeah,
but—”

  Elaine cut me off again. “Alice, you may go and look at the fish now, sweetheart.”

  Alice bounced up out of her seat, stopped to kiss me on the cheek, and then darted the few feet away to the enormous fish tank in the center of the restaurant.

  Watching her, how mesmerized she was, was soothing. “She’s such a good kid.”

  “Yes, she is,” Elaine agreed, “but that’s not in question.”

  I returned my attention to her.

  “We’ve been a part of each other’s lives for twenty-two years, Kevin. You can’t just expect that to end overnight because my son was making out with some guy on his couch when you came home.”

  I scowled. “That’s not what this is about.”

  She leaned close. “Do not take that snide tone with me, and I know good and well what this is about.”

  Of course her son had told her. I was not surprised. Christ. I was in hell.

  “You two are ridiculous. He wonders why he can’t connect with anyone and find something permanent. And you don’t have the balls—”

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “––to tell him what you really want from him! It’s maddening to watch. I’ve never wanted to shake two people so hard in my life.”

  “Elaine—”

  “He doesn’t know what he really wants, and you’re a coward.”

  I was starting to shift from uncomfortable to mad. “You know—”

  “It’s your fault.”

  “What?” I snapped, amazed at her.

  “If you’d just told him, he’d know. He’s been following your lead for years; of course he’ll keep doing it.”

  “Are you hearing yourself? No one wants a gay son.”

  “No good parent gives a damn about the sexual orientation of their child,” she corrected. “And when in the world did you become such a cynic?”

  “You—”

  “Do you know what I want for my son?”

  I didn’t answer, just sat there feeling like I was five instead of thirty-five.

  “I simply want him to be happy,” she said flatly, staring holes through me. “I want a son who could fall in love and raise a family.”

  I held her gaze.

  “That’s not what I have now.”

  My sigh was loud.

  “The point is that the two of you need to talk and then go to bed and sort this all out.”

  “Oh dear God,” I bemoaned, putting my head down in my hand.