Grand Adventures

by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  He sounded so very frustrated, but the slight scowl was utterly adorable. Brad did his very best not to snort as a similar line from one of his favorite movies ran through his head. It wasn’t the only line that did, but he shook himself, because really, Jacob was a stranger, and lost, and thinking about him any other way was definitely uncool. “We’ll be in the station in a few minutes,” he said, pulling himself away from the inappropriate thoughts. “It’ll be about six hours before the train to Ottawa leaves. Are you meeting someone? I can wait a few minutes until you find them.”

  Jacob’s face fell, and he turned his head, but not before Brad saw the forlorn expression that turned the hazel eyes to a glimmer of pale almost silver. “You do not have to do that. Is fine. I will wait near platform.”

  “No one?” Brad asked before he could stop himself.

  Jacob leaned forward, hiding his face completely as he reached across the aisle for his backpack. “Is fine,” he mumbled.

  “Jacob.” Brad touched his arm lightly. A shock hit him like a blow to the stomach when Jacob jerked his arm free of the touch.

  “Is fine!” He rose abruptly and plunked back down across the aisle. “Thank you,” he said more softly, gazing back at Brad. “Is kind of you, but not necessary.”

  “What did I do?” Brad asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…. I just….”

  “I have offended.” Jacob’s face went soft and worried. “Please. It is nothing. Nothing, I swear.”

  The man was scared. A flash of reason hit Brad as hard as the first blow of rejection at his touch. Jacob was terrified, but of what?

  “No,” Brad said quietly, holding out a hand and moving slowly to crouch in the aisle next to Jacob. “It’s not fine. Let me wait with you. We have to catch the same train. I want to help.” He carefully laid his fingers on Jacob’s knee, meaning the touch to soothe and gentle. He felt Jacob’s trembling even under that light touch, and when Jacob twitched his leg away, Brad brought his hand away to rest in his lap. “I’m a bit touchy-feely.” He tried a smile. “I’ve made you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.” He rose and settled back in the seat they had shared, but he sat close to the aisle and hung out a bit, so they could talk in voices quiet enough not to be overheard. “I didn’t mean anything by it, okay?”

  After a heartbeat’s indecision, Jacob nodded. “Okay. I’m sorry. Touchy. Is… grumpy?”

  “Um, no. That’s tetchy. Touchy-feely. It means… demonstrative.”

  But that word too met with a quizzical expression, and he tried again. “I like to touch people. I like to be touched. I hug people a lot. I’m just… tactile.” He grinned, and it was a bit rueful. “Some people find it annoying. Most get used to it eventually, but I’ll keep my distance if it bothers you. Some people don’t like to be touched?” He said it like a question.

  Jacob watched him from thoughtful eyes. “I don’t mind touch,” he said at last. “I—”

  “You know what?” Brad sat back and began to gather his own things. “Never mind. I’ll be more careful.”

  “I have offended,” Jacob said again.

  “Nope.” Brad shot him a smile. “You haven’t. I offended you, and I’m sorry. I’ll keep my distance. I promise, it’s all good. And if I forget, don’t be shy to remind me. I usually don’t even think about it.”

  Jacob nodded. “All good.” Like he was trying on the phrase, but he didn’t look convinced.

  They readied for getting off the train in silence after that. It was slightly stretched and out of shape, but as they settled back to await arrival at the station, Jacob met Brad’s gaze.

  “I would like….” He took in a deep breath and offered a small, sweet smile. That shy one again that made Brad’s heart flip over. God, the man was doing his insides all up in knots. “If we could wait together, I would like that. I have no one here for me. It would be nice not to wait alone.”

  Brad grinned wide, immensely relieved. “I’d love that. I’ll make sure you get to the courthouse on time. Promise.” The train slowed, and he pushed his feet into his sneakers. “Allons-y!”

  Jacob looked at him with a question in his eyes, but Brad just grinned. “French. It means let’s go.” He let the elation swell up, flipping his heart back right-side up as it did. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

  Jacob laughed and grabbed his suitcase from the rack as he passed. They disembarked and together rolled their cases up the sidewalk toward the escalators.

  Jacob stopped when they got there and looked confused. “We go down?” he asked, glancing behind him to the sliver of morning sky visible beyond the train. “But outside is there.” He pointed.

  “Yes, I know, it’s counterintuitive, but we have to go down through the P.A.T.H. to get to the street. Toronto’s a funny city that way.”

  Jacob nodded absently. “Counterintuitive,” he said to himself. “Means… against… something. What is intuitive?”

  “Intuition. Ah… how you imagine something should be. What your gut tells you it should be. If something is counterintuitive, it goes against what your gut tells you it should be.”

  Jacob nodded. “Yes, I see. To go underground to go outside is counterintuitive. I am learning very much from you. I like it.”

  Good Lord, if Jacob kept flashing that smile, Brad was going to self-combust. Jacob was beyond adorable. The smile made his cheeks dimple and his eyes light up. It was distracting and delicious. Brad shook himself and turned his thoughts to what they might do for the hours while they waited for the train to Ottawa. Well. Most of the ideas that flashed through his head and, unfortunately, through the rest of him as well, were just as distracting. Not good. “Are you hungry?” he blurted.

  “Hungry?” Jacob nodded. “Yes. Very. We can eat somewhere close?”

  “I know a few places. A nice little pub, and there’s a bookstore across the street from it. Come on. There’s a check room too. We can ditch these cases and travel light. We’ll pick them up on the way back.”

  Jacob nodded and followed as Brad led the way to the check room and they explained their situation. There was no charge to leave their bulky suitcases there, safe and sound, to be picked up when they came back for the train to Ottawa.

  “There,” Brad said, satisfied. “Better. Food?” He hitched his backpack more securely on his shoulder. “I could eat.”

  Jacob nodded vigorously. “Food. Yes, that would be wonderful.” They walked side by side up the gradually sloping hallway, through a chilly corridor open to the sky, and back into the underground mall. They traveled along the broad P.A.T.H. corridors and finally up a set of polished marble stairs and through a concourse to a glassed-in pub.

  “Ditched!” Jacob said suddenly. “I understand. Ditch: to leave behind. We left our bags. We ditched them.” He tossed his hands in the air in triumph, laughing with delight, and his eyes sparkled. “English. Such a funny language. Makes no sense.”

  Brad was far too dazzled by that laugh, the smile, and flush in Jacob’s cheeks to reply.

  THEY HAD a leisurely breakfast and spent some time browsing in the World’s Biggest Book Store across the street before heading back to grab their bags and find their platform. Once on the train, Brad led the way to the second-to-last car. This one was more crowded, so they stowed their bags and shared a seat once again. There was no sleeping this time. The train wound through the countryside, often passing through small towns or larger cities, and Jacob watched out the window in fascination.

  “Everything is so….”

  Brad waited, but Jacob never finished the sentence. Instead, when another small town fell away and they were passing through a series of fields and farms, he settled back and looked over at Brad. “Canada,” he said, with a note of satisfaction. “I like Canada.”

  Brad nodded. “Me too. I listen to the news and what’s happening in—” He glanced at Jacob and closed his mouth, thought better of it, and went on. “—places, and I just… I’m glad I live here. I have things here people like me ca
n’t ever have where they live. It’s not perfect, but”—he shrugged—“it’s home.”

  “Home,” Jacob echoed.

  “So, where will you live?” Brad asked after a few minutes. “Once you take your oath and everything. Are you going back to the west coast?”

  Jacob shook his head. “It was nice there. But….” Again, he didn’t finish his thought out loud, and he looked so… careful.

  “But?” Brad prompted.

  “No. It’s nothing.” He waved a hand, but the movement was far from negligent, and the words brushed nothing off.

  Brad left it alone. If Jacob didn’t want to say, it was none of his business.

  “Can I ask you something?” Jacob asked when a few more minutes had passed in silence.

  “Sure.”

  “You’re not married?”

  Brad laughed. “No. I’m still in university. One more year.”

  “You’re a student.”

  “Yeah. General arts. No idea what I want to be, really, but I like kids. I’m good with them, and they seem to like me, so I was thinking of teaching. Art, maybe. I’m good at that.”

  Jacob smiled, and it was so wistful it had Brad’s heart doing that flippy thing again.

  “Anyone can be anything here.”

  “Sure,” Brad said. “Not where you grew up?” he ventured, when Jacob only looked out the window, a thoughtful expression turning the corners of his mouth down sweetly.

  “No. Not really. But here, you can be a teacher if you want. An artist.” He grinned and turned the expression on Brad. “Or both.”

  Brad tipped his head. “Yeah, I guess that’s true. I could be both. Be sort of fitting for a guy like me to go be all artsy-fartsy.”

  Jacob’s brows drew down tight, and the look he gave Brad was intense. “Guy like you?”

  “Yeah, you know.” Brad drew in a deep breath and plunged. “Art world is full of gay guys, right?”

  Something like horror flashed through Jacob’s eyes, and for a split second, Brad thought the man was going to crawl over him and run for the far end of the train. Should have kept his big mouth shut.

  “Look, never mind, okay? It’s no biggie. Not like I’m gonna—”

  Jacob was peering around them, but none of the other passengers were even looking their way.

  “I’m sorry,” Jacob blurted. “I—”

  “Like I said, it’s no big deal.” Brad shrank down in his seat, pushing his back against the cushions and pretending his heart wasn’t down there on the floor somewhere under his sneakers.

  “It is a big deal. It’s huge.”

  “No. Really. Forget I mentioned it. Stupid of me.” Considering the guy didn’t even like to be touched by someone he thought was straight, Brad figured Jacob would take the earliest opportunity to ditch him.

  “Where I am from,” Jacob said, so quietly Brad had to lean over toward him to hear, “if a man said such a thing, out loud….” He shook his head. “I came here to be less afraid. To be who I am. And still, I hear you say it and think there will be police at the next stop to take you.” He reached, hesitated, then gripped Brad’s hand in his. “To take me because I am with you.”

  “That doesn’t happen here.” Brad stared at their connected hands, breath caught behind the rush of his heart from his shoes to his throat. The man made him positively giddy.

  Jacob nodded. “My mother sent me here to have a life I could not have there. She is a good woman. She sent me away to protect my family from me, like I was contagious. Like this thing I carry has the power to hurt anyone I touch, and there, it does.”

  “But you aren’t there anymore,” Brad reminded him, turning his hand over and lacing his fingers through Jacob’s. “You’re here now, and it’s safe. You’re safe. I promise.”

  “You make so many promises,” Jacob said, and once again, he sounded wistful. “There are bigots everywhere.”

  “Yeah,” Brad agreed, because there was no point denying a truth that could get them hurt. “But honestly, Jacob, I grew up as out as a guy can get, and it never really impacted me much. Kids teased, but they teased the girl with red hair and the kid with braces and the guy who was smarter than them.” He shrugged. “People tease,” he said softly, sitting back but not letting go of Jacob’s hand. It felt too right to be holding it like that, and Jacob, for some reason, didn’t seem inclined to release him either. “But this is not Lithuania, and that I can promise.”

  Jacob said nothing. He held Brad’s hand for another few minutes before smiling at him, again, shy with red cheeks and no little excitement in his eyes. “I cannot do this at home.”

  Brad grinned. “But you can.”

  The frown he got was as epic as any of Jacob’s smiles. “No. I would be—”

  Not able to think of any other way to get him to stop and think, Brad kissed Jacob’s knuckles.

  Jacob stared at him, that deep-seated look of horror in his eyes glazed over with pure adrenaline. His lips parted, but he didn’t speak.

  “Tomorrow, you’ll take an oath that says you can love whoever you want, remember?” Brad said. “However long you’ve already lived in Canada, Jacob, tomorrow it’ll be official. This is your home now. And not only is it okay to hold my hand or kiss me, to be with me—it’s legal to marry whoever you want. This is a different world. Maybe your mom sent you away to protect the lives of your family. But maybe she also did it to let you have a life. Ever think of it that way?”

  Jacob gave him a very slight shake of his head.

  “Well”—Brad sat back in his seat, feeling rather smug as he tightened his fingers around Jacob’s—“maybe you should.”

  “WHEN DO you have to be there?” Brad asked as they hauled their heavy bags off the train in Ottawa.

  “Tomorrow.” Jacob looked absolutely done. If the seventeen-hour trek from Sudbury to Ottawa wasn’t enough, and Brad knew it was—he was exhausted himself—then surely Jacob’s cross-Canada journey before that was enough to finish off even the most seasoned traveler. “I will stay tonight in a hostel. I will have to leave there by nine. That is the rule. I will go to Parliament Hill in the morning. I can wait on the grass until it is time and walk to the ceremony from there.” He looked so pleased with his plan despite his fatigue.

  “What time is the thingy?”

  “Thingy?” Jacob blinked at him.

  “Ceremony. Whatever it is. What time do you have to be there?”

  “Is at 11:00 a.m.”

  “That’s hours. It’s freezing out. And supposed to rain. You can’t wait outside. What will you do with all your stuff?” He indicated the suitcase at Jacob’s feet.

  Jacob smiled at him patiently. “I have waited my whole life to be allowed to do such a thing as this.” He shyly reached for Brad’s hand, glanced around, then snatched it up into his own. “I will wait a few hours, even in the rain.”

  “Come home with me,” Brad decided. “I have my own place, so no one will bother you, and you can sleep as late as you want. That way, you can stay inside where it’s warm, and we can go together.”

  Jacob was staring at him, that frightened, almost panicked look in his eye again. “No.”

  “Please. I want to.”

  “Is dangerous.”

  “Well, if I was a serial killer, sure. Or if you were.” He smiled, then frowned. “Are you?”

  Jacob stared at him. “No,” he barely whispered. His cheeks had gone very pale, and he dropped Brad’s hand.

  “Um. Okay, what’s wrong?”

  “Where did you come from?” Jacob asked. “On that train, I thought… I thought everything would go wrong. That I made biggest mistake coming here where I had no one. Then I walk through one door, and there you are sitting, like an angel.”

  Brad snickered. “Not an angel, believe me. If you could see into my head to what’s been going through it since I met you….”

  Jacob dropped his gaze and tugged on the straps of his backpack. “At home, I would think all this is a trap.”<
br />
  “Not a trap, I promise,” Brad said, daring to reach over and take both Jacob’s hands in his. “If there was a way to prove to you that I only want to help you, get to know you better, I hope I would do that thing. Just tell me what it is.”

  Jacob stared into his eyes a long time, then gently reclaimed his hands. “Come to ceremony tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  Jacob held up a hand. “This is the thing I request. Come tomorrow. See me do this thing that will change my life, and after that, we will have lunch.” He grinned wide. “Go on date, yes? That is the word?”

  “A… date?”

  Jacob nodded. A flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes; then he straightened. “Yes. A date.”

  “You’re sure you can—”

  “I am not a little boy.” Though his grin was certainly sweet enough to melt sugar. “I can get my bum to ceremony on time. Be there. Be the one, in the audience, for me. Yes?”

  Brad nodded. “Yes. Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I am.”

  Reluctant to let the other man go, Brad didn’t have a lot of choice. It was crazy, he knew, inviting a total stranger to his home. It wasn’t something he did. But Jacob was different. He just felt… right. At least he managed to get Jacob to accept his phone number. That way, at least the other man had some connection. Some help if he needed it.

  So they parted ways at the station, Brad going south to his apartment and Jacob headed northwest to a hostel he said he’d found near where the ceremony would take place. He had given Brad the address of the building, and Brad promised to meet him there.

  THE NEXT morning, Brad was amending that promise. He wasn’t breaking it, he decided. Just altering it somewhat. Just after nine in the morning, he dismounted a bus at the foot of Parliament Hill. An obnoxious sort of rain fell, soaking through everything without needing actual drops to do so, but Brad had his umbrella anyway. He juggled it and a slowly disintegrating cardboard tray with two coffee cups, as well as a paper bag with muffins and yogurt. Everything was falling to shreds in the damp, and he nearly dumped both coffees into the grass as he fumbled to get the umbrella open.