The Way to Joe

by Hollis Shiloh

  Caden apologized profusely as he held the leashes. "I'm so sorry," he said again and again.

  "It's okay, hon," I promised. "Just don't let the dogs make a mess."

  "They…they're such good dogs." He sounded like he was going to cry again.

  "They are."

  Joe squeezed my wrist, giving me a smile as I got him inside. "What do you need?" I asked him.

  He shook his head. "Nothing. Just rest. I'm afraid I got overexcited."

  "I'm sorry," I said, voice low. "I didn't think of that. I just knew I could trust you."

  He smiled at me, squeezed my arm. "You can," he said, giving me a slow blink, a calm look on his face, even if he was a little drawn. "If I take it easy for the next couple of days, I'll be fine. It's happened before. I don't need a trip to the emergency room or anything."

  "If you're sure." I hesitated, scraping fingers back through my hair, not sure what to do now.

  "Just help me get into bed," he said.

  I only wish I could, I thought ruefully. But really, would he even be up to sexual pleasure? I found myself blushing at the selfish thoughts…

  He laughed softly, a gently pleased sound, kind of flattered. "Kid, you make me feel young," he said.

  I got him into bed and he closed his eyes almost immediately.

  I walked Caden and the dogs back to the house I was sitting, and got them settled. Soon, Caden was on the couch with a box of tissues, the TV blaring loudly, and two huge dogs trying to fit onto his lap while he fed them and himself cheese curls. He was also texting three people at once and looking up occasionally, telling me to go back to "my guy."

  I told him Joe wasn't, but he didn't listen, just waved a hand. "I have the dogs. Go!"

  I went, almost at a run. Then I thought of Joe there all alone and I did run. He was still asleep when I got there, so I had time to calm down.

  I went about cooking for him again, since it was the only thing I could think to do. I brought him another glass of water and left it beside his bed, too.

  For a moment, I just stared down at his sleeping face. He looked calm. Peaceful. I wondered how much longer he had to live, and why my heart ached so at the thought.

  I went back downstairs slowly to find something to cook.

  When he emerged into the kitchen a few hours later, looking sleepy and wrung out, I had food waiting for him in the oven, on warm. I moved up to him and gave him a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek, and tried to give him an I'm-glad-you're-my-friend smile. "Thank you," I said with full sincerity. "Now, if you're up for it, please eat something."

  He ate something. We didn't talk much; he was still tired. But I stayed and ate with him this time. He insisted. His tired gray eyes looked at me with a certainty I didn't dare deny. I didn't let myself light up with hope at what I thought I saw in them. We just ate, and I made small talk and then cleaned up the dishes after he went back to bed.

  I hesitated, then turned out the lights and locked up and went back to Caden and the dogs.

  #

  Caden didn't want to press charges. After the first relief and hysteria had passed, he was too ashamed for anyone to know. Especially anyone official. He just wanted to forget it.

  He also moved into a different area pretty damned quick.

  Joe was tired for a few days, and I stopped by to check on him whenever I could, staying to cook for him or help him out around the house. I didn't go surfing, just took care of my dog walking and house sitting, and Joe.

  After three days had passed, he looked like himself again.

  He was sitting on the porch swing when I walked up on the fourth morning.

  He held two cups of coffee in his hands, and gave me a little welcoming nod and a warm smile.

  I sat down beside him gratefully and inhaled the smell of coffee as I took my mug.

  "I'm feeling well today," he told me.

  "I'm glad." I didn't know what else to say. Words caught in my throat.

  "You'll find someone," said Joe softly. "I wouldn't have anything to give you. I know you don't want my money or my boat—you want a partner, and I couldn't be one. Not properly."

  "Joe," I said in a choked voice. "You're perfect the way you a-are."

  "Seth," he said quietly.

  "No." I reached up and swiped at my stinging eyes. "Why does your age have to matter? Why?"

  "Because of my heart," said Joe patiently. "I'm not healthy enough to keep up with a young man like yourself. You deserve someone who can."

  "So can you not, like, have sex at all? Because seriously, I never have adventures like that normally. And I don't care if you can come surfing with me or not." I was begging, and that wasn't like me. But I was too gone to even care. And I still didn't know why; I just didn't want to live without Joe. It was ripping my heart in two.

  He put a hand on my back, rubbed gently, and sighed. "I can have sex—carefully. Nothing too athletic. But…"

  "No buts!" I said forcefully, and he drew back and smiled at me, his eyes lighting at some inward amusement.

  "Okay, no buts," he said. "All the same, I think—"

  "I don't want anybody else. Just you. I'd be a good boyfriend. I know you probably think I'm flighty, but I'm—I'm not. I'm loyal. And…and I care about you. Please let me care about you."

  He sighed, and drew my face against his shoulder, and kissed the top of my head. "Yes," he said quietly, like a man surrendering, giving his whole life away. "Yes. Stay." He closed his eyes and just breathed.

  I hugged him, trying not to cry anymore, holding onto him gently.

  #

  Part of me didn't believe my good luck. But when I woke up with Joe in the morning—after our careful yet still world-rocking sex last night—I couldn't stop smiling.

  I got up quietly so I could go and make him breakfast. Everything in the world seemed bright and beautiful. I left him a note and then went to take care of the dogs. It would do him good to sleep in. Although, despite everything, he looked more rested than he had in a while.

  I wanted to stay and cuddle him, but I had to let the dogs do their business or there'd be messes. They were good dogs, but they needed to relieve themselves in the morning.

  When I got back, he was eating, wrapped in a purple bathrobe, and the smile he gave me made me go right over and kiss him, mindless of everything else in the world.

  I couldn't live with him, not when I was house-sitting. But we made plans, and those plans included a cautious hope that after this job was finished, I would move in. I didn't mind doing the cooking regularly, helping him remember his medicine, taking care of him any way I could help. But he reminded me I wasn't there to housesit for him, and not to get the wrong idea.

  "If we're going to be partners, I want to do it right," he said. "You need to let me take care of you, too."

  I promised I would.

  I was good at keeping that promise. And he was good at finding ways to make me really freaking happy in bed that didn't involve over-stressing his heart.

  He was so amazing, like he'd had his whole life to think of hot things to try together and he was going to help me with them all.

  The man was creative, kind, and the most generous lover I'd ever known. No way would he ever toss a guy down onto a shirt on the sand and have a quick hump with him in the darkness.

  Nope, the dude had class.

  And he made me feel like I had class, too.

  #

  Grandma wanted to know why I wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving, but I didn't think it was a good time to leave Joe.

  He and I were just settling in together, now that the tourist season (and boating weather) was past, and we were living together. I had my own room with my few things in it, and my surfboard against the wall since it was usually too cold to surf lately. I didn't have a body suit; I was just a summer surfer here. Maybe someday.

  But right now, we were concentrating on knitting our lives together.

  He read to me every night while we sat cuddled up in
his bed, letting at least one hand drape on some part of me, possessively gentle. With some guys, it might've felt like they were trying to educate me. But he knew I loved books, but had trouble reading and could only do it slowly, especially if I was tired. He could make the books come alive to me, everything so real and immediate.

  I'd taken over the cooking, and we ate pretty well. I usually did the shopping too. He gave me a debit card to his account so I could get all the fresh stuff that was best for him. I made frequent grocery runs, and fixed lots of salads, healthy smoothies, salmon and skinless chicken, and other food that was good for him.

  I liked it all, too. I'd learned to eat pretty healthy from my grandma, and had kept up with it the best I could, because I felt like I surfed better when I ate well. Lots of brown rice and stuff. Of course, it's hard to eat like that when you're on the move or super busy, but when I had time I tried to cook right. And I took the time now.

  Anyway, his kids were going to their mother's for Thanksgiving, and I didn't think he should be alone. I was gonna make us a Tofurkey. I'd always wanted to try that, and now I had the excuse.

  He just shook his head, laughing a little at me. "You're really doing this?"

  "If you don't mind."

  He looked at me, a faint smile playing on his handsome face. "I don't."

  "Good." I started to whistle while I plotted out the rest of the menu. There would be a few splurges—the sweet potatoes had to have marshmallows on them—but otherwise I was doing the uber-healthy version of everything.

  I wanted my guy to be with me for a long time.

  Caden had moved on to Florida, where there were warm days and he didn't have to face the cold. He still went dancing a lot, but not as frantically lately. He was actually getting some counseling, and facing some of what had made him so desperate to be the ultimate gay flirting machine. He was starting to think about settling down, trying to find somebody he really wanted. He melted a little whenever I talked about Joe—thought we were the sweetest couple ever.

  I missed the dogs, but saw them occasionally when their owners took them for walks. The Weimeraners hadn't forgotten me. Sometimes with their tails wagging gently, looking up at me with their wise eyes, I thought I saw a secret there, the promise that they would be there if I ever needed them again. Such gentle, powerful, calm and protective dogs.

  On Thanksgiving, I got a little flustered trying to get everything ready on time. Joe sat at the table and talked to me, helping with some of the chopping, looking delicious in his apron. I wasn't wearing a shirt, of course: it was warm enough in the kitchen with all the things cooking away, and I still hated wearing shirts with a passion.

  We were talking about the latest TV show we'd started watching together when there was a knock at the door.

  I went to get it, remembering to put down my knife.

  When I opened the door, there stood Grandma. She looked at me, then past me. "May I come in?" she asked.

  "G-Grandma," I sputtered. "Um, hi. This is…this is my boyfriend, Joe." I held out a hand towards him.

  He rose and offered his own. He seemed acutely aware of her judgment, but he just gave her a nice smile and pretended he wasn't.

  "Won't you join us?" he said. "We've made plenty."

  "Thank you. I will." This had clearly been her intention all along. I'd almost forgotten how single-minded she could be. "If he can't spend Thanksgiving with me, then I can spend it with him," she said, putting down her heavy-looking bag with a loud thump. "I hope you've got an extra room in this big old place, because I'm not flyin' back tonight."

  "There's plenty of room," said Joe quietly.

  She looked back and forth between us, harrumphed once, and then moved to check the stove, see if I had the heat all set right. "Looks good," she said begrudgingly. "But is that tofu?"

  "Um, yeah. I wanted to try it."

  She harrumphed again, and asked where the bathroom was, because she had to tinkle.

  When I'd showed her and returned, I looked at Joe despairingly. "Sorry. She's my only family. I can't send her away."

  "No. It's not that." He put a hand on my shoulder. "It's…she's barely older than I am."

  "What?" I snorted. "Is so."

  His smile looked sad, and he said nothing more on the subject at that point, but I could see he was thinking about it.

  We had a pretty good Thanksgiving dinner once everybody settled down to eat. Not everything turned out good, but most of it did.

  Grandma was much nicer once she got a little food in her. Downright chatty and friendly. She wasn't mean to Joe. Although she'd clearly come here expecting to hate him, she didn't. By the end, she actually gave him a real, twinkling smile, and shook his hand before heading to bed.

  He headed off too, too tired to stay up any longer. I got the leftovers put away, started the dishwasher, and went to take a shower. Under the jet streams of warm water, I thought sadly about this situation. If anyone was to throw a monkey wrench into our little oasis, our relationship, I'd thought it would be his snotty kids who were only a little younger than me.

  They still kind of resented him for not being around much, and he'd spoiled them to make up for it. He bought them too much stuff for their birthdays, and he was paying for their schooling, even though they didn't get very good grades and were at least some of the time partying hard instead of studying. He loved his children, but felt helpless about them sometimes, and clearly felt a little lost when he talked about them.

  He regretted a lot of his earlier life, like not being there for them more, and living a lie for so long. He still loved his children, but it was all bound up with guilt and the feeling they seemed to have that he'd betrayed them. I'd been dreading their finding out about his "younger boyfriend" and expecting their outrage.

  I hadn't expected Grandma, my only family, the woman who'd raised me singlehanded and never minded I was gay at all, to be the one.

  Joe was asleep when I went to join him, and for a moment I just stood looking down at him, feeling sad, like I was losing him already. Then I climbed into bed with him and moved as close as I dared without waking him up.

  Grandma stayed for three days. She and Joe circled one another warily sometimes, but by the end they could make each other laugh, and hugged one another goodbye, and meant it when they said we needed to get together again soon.

  She flew home, after Joe secretly upgraded her seat to first class so she could be more comfortable on the way back.

  #

  "I wanted it to be a Christmas surprise, but it couldn't wait," he said quietly.

  I looked up expectantly, letting my spoon clatter back to my bowl. We were eating oatmeal, fresh fruit salad, and egg white omelets, and he was looking at me with such love in his face as he reached across the table, his face alight with the surprise he couldn't wait to share with me.

  "There's a dog," I guessed immediately.

  For a second, he looked dismayed.

  "How did you…?"

  "You gotta clear the browser history better, babe," I told him, giving him a little wink. "I'm just glad you weren't looking for kinky porn. I like being your go-to guy for sex."

  He looked a little flustered. "Well, you are. Ahem." He wiped his mouth.

  Sheesh, the things we did together, and he still got shy about it? The man could make me feel more amazing than anything else in the world, but he seemed shy about it sometimes. What did he have to be shy about? He was a fuckin' amazing lover.

  We'd gone to his doctor together for his last few appointments. The doctor was pleased. He said Joe was doing well, not pushing himself too hard, and eating much better.

  He said if Joe continued to be careful, he could have years yet.

  We celebrated with a salad and a healthy shake, not a French fry in sight—even though that's what we were both hungry for after the long trip to his specialist.

  Now he cleared his throat. "Ahem. Do you want to hear about the dog or not?" he said.

  "A Weimera
ner, right? From that breeder you were looking up?"

  He looked utterly dismayed for a moment, mouth falling open. "Um…yes. One of the dogs that's no longer going to be a breeder. She's a bit older, but very gentle and…"

  "Suzie!" I exclaimed. "I saw her on the site. Oh, wow, you got me Suzie!" I jumped up and went around the table and hugged him.

  He laughed, chuffing softly against my shoulder. "You do know how to spoil a surprise…more deliciously."

  We kissed each other. After that, we did some other stuff.

  Then I drove down to wait for Suzie to arrive at the airport. I was pretty good at running errands myself these days. Joe did some light exercise—mostly walks we took together, when the weather was decent enough—but I'd taken over most of the running around.

  But I wished he was here to see our new dog arrive.

  Well, he saw her when I brought her home.

  #

  It was official; I was in love. Suzie was the best dog in the world, with her gentle, wise eyes and her muzzle that was going just slightly gray. Her tail had unfortunately been docked, and she could only wag a little stump.

  She was so sweet, and she quickly came to love us so much it almost hurt. Sometimes she walked up to us on the couch, and put her head in one of our laps, and looked up at us and sighed a little, waiting for us to rub her ears. We always did.

  I took her for long runs on the beach, wearing us both out. Even though she was older and had to take supplements for her joints, she still needed a lot more exercise than some dogs. I did, too.

  Then we'd go for decorous walks with Joe in the evening, two gay dudes and their dog. It didn't quite fit the stereotype—she should've been small and yappy for that—but whatever.

  I got some texts from Caden near Christmas, showing him and his new boyfriend, and lots of palm trees. They looked delicious, almost sickeningly happy together, like they couldn't take their eyes or their hands off each other.