Hello Forever

by Sarina Bowen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cax

  I woke up the next morning with no headache. My relief lasted only until I sat down in my office and checked my email. There was a new message from Scotty.

  Dad wanted to know who drove us home yesterday, so I told him your friend who worked at the basketball games. But after I said Axel’s name, Dad got all super ragey. I went in my room and didn’t come out until dinner, but he didn’t ask me anything more. What is his damage?

  “Oh, fuck,” I whispered to myself. Axel was an unusual name. I should’ve realized that Scotty would repeat it and that my father might remember it from all those years ago.

  My head gave a throb. Fanfuckingtastic. I got up and pulled on my coat, walking immediately to Starbucks for a cappuccino with a shot of caramel in it. I did not have time for more pain.

  The one-two punch of caffeine and sugar seemed to work. So when I sat down at my desk, I looked up the number for Axel’s office, and I called him.

  “Hey!” he said after I greeted him. “I was just thinking about you. Are you doing better?”

  “Yes and no,” I said quietly. “My headache is gone, but my father is apparently on the warpath.”

  There was a silence on the other end of the line. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are.” I was so sick of the two of us apologizing to each other when it was the rest of the world that caused us the real trouble. “But I’ve got to…cut off contact for a while.”

  “I understand,” he said quickly. “Anything you need.”

  “It’s not that I think he’s reading my fucking email account, or anything. But I can’t stay away from you. I’m going to get myself in trouble.”

  “I get it. I didn’t before, but now I do. I…” He sighed into the phone. “If you ever need a hand, Cax, just call. Seriously. Even if it’s a year from now and I haven’t seen your face. You have a problem and I’m there.”

  My heart shimmied in my chest for two reasons. First, that I could go a year without him. And second, that he would say such a loving thing. “You kill me. You really do. I wish there was something I could do…”

  “Just take care of yourself, would you? Do that for me.”

  The lump in my throat was basketball-sized. “You too.”

  “Goodbye for now,” he whispered.

  “Goodbye,” I said, my voice breaking on the word.

  I hung up the phone, my throat burning. Before Axel came to Henning, I’d only suspected that my life sucked. Now I knew that it truly did.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Axel

  The next couple of weeks after Cax’s phone call were rough.

  I was lonely, and I missed emailing him. There were a few moments when I forgot to be lonely—when some funny thing on the Internet made me smile. And then I’d want to tell Cax about it.

  Yep. Sad again.

  So I put all my energy into my job. The team went on that trip to Providence, and we won. And I mostly succeeded in not thinking about Cax, who was undoubtedly at his brother’s holiday concert like he said he would be.

  Then the holidays happened. I bought a ticket to Ohio and moped around my mother’s house for a few days.

  “Will you tell me what’s wrong?” she asked me one afternoon, running a hand through my hair as I sat at the kitchen table. “Aren’t they good to you at work?”

  I hadn’t planned to tell her. She slid a mug of cocoa and a plate of Christmas cookies toward me, looking worried.

  “They are perfectly good to me at work. But…do you remember Cax Williams?”

  She blinked. “Who could forget him?”

  The whole story came tumbling out. Except for the sexy bits. I definitely skimmed right over those.

  When I was through she gave a dramatic sigh. “That poor boy. I want to punch his father right in the kisser.”

  “Aside from that, though,” I grumbled. “I keep thinking about his situation, trying to find a workaround. There’s no solution.”

  “He already told you his solution.” My mother covered my hand with her own. “It’s just that you don’t like it.”

  I stared into the dregs of my cocoa. “I can’t believe I found him again, but we still can’t be together. And he wants to…”

  “It’s the pits,” my mom agreed. “Tell me more about this Jason guy, though. At least he’s available.”

  Why does it hurt so much when mothers are right?

  * * *

  After my week of vacation, I went back to Henning determined to get out more and mope less. My poor little bank account wasn’t quite so strained now that I’d had a couple of months of paycheck deposits.

  Josh and Caleb invited me out for an evening at a place called Ralph’s Tavern, and I accepted. It was a few miles out of town, though, so I’d planned to ride with them. But at work I got the idea to invite Boz to go with us. “You’ll have to drive,” I told him. “But I’ll buy the first round.”

  “Ralph’s is fun,” he said. “But I got all excited there thinking you were asking me out on a date. When really I’m just your chauffeur. Way to crush my dreams.” He threw a Barmuth teddy bear into the air and caught it.

  “We’ll find you a nice girl at Ralph’s,” I promised.

  “But you’ll be riding home again in my car.” He grinned. “How can I make all my smooth guy moves with you listening in?”

  “If they were really that smooth, you wouldn’t mind an audience.”

  “You are full of excuses.” He looked at his watch. “When do we leave?”

  Given Boz’s allergy to working overtime, we left the office at 5:01 and beat Josh and Caleb to the tavern. We were already on our second beers when my neighbors arrived with a couple of Caleb’s work buddies from the garage. “This is Danny and this is Jakobitz,” Caleb said as we shook hands.

  “Are you a couple, too?” Boz asked the other two mechanics.

  Josh and Caleb burst out laughing.

  “Are you KIDDING ME?” Danny yelled, pointing at Jakobitz. “He has the smelliest farts. If I was gay and he was the last man on earth…”

  “Oh, as if you’re so appealing,” Jakobitz said with a disgusted look on his face. “Please. That mustache…”

  “Whoops,” Boz muttered.

  “I’ll bet you ten bucks that I’m the first guy to get hit on tonight,” Danny said.

  “Twenty says it’s me,” Jakobitz countered.

  Caleb rolled his eyes.

  My plan worked. I had fun in spite of myself. We ate pulled-pork sandwiches while Caleb and his friends told us a story about a customer who was convinced that a snake was lurking somewhere in his engine.

  “He felt something slither across his ankle,” Danny said. “But I think maybe the guy was just nuts.”

  “But can’t a snake hide in an engine like that?” Josh asked. “I heard of that on Car Talk.”

  “In Texas, maybe,” Caleb said, squeezing his husband’s shoulder. “How many snakes are slithering around in January in Massachusetts?”

  “Good point. Did you look at his engine anyway? Maybe a snake escaped from a neighbor’s house.”

  “We looked,” Jakobitz said. “But only for a half hour, because we didn’t want to charge this guy a fortune for a fool’s errand.”

  “Could have been a mouse,” Danny pointed out. “Mice make nests in cars all the time. But we didn’t find any droppings.”

  Boz shuddered. “Now I have to worry about mice in my vehicle? Thanks for that.”

  “Set traps in your garage,” Josh offered.

  “Hi there! Excuse me?”

  We all looked up to see a redheaded woman leaning into our conversation. She put a hand on Caleb’s forearm. “It’s my friend’s birthday. Her.” She tipped her head toward a table in back.

  All our heads swiveled to look, of course. At the other table another girl sat alone, blushing profusely.

  “Is there any way you could do a shot with us while I sing her Happy Birthday?”

>   “Uh,” Caleb said, looking stunned by the offer. “My husband hates it when I get drunk.”

  She blinked.

  “But there’s six of us,” Boz said quickly. “We can sing Happy Birthday really loudly. Trust me. Ready boys? What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Suzie,” she said, brightening up.

  “On three! One, two, three…”

  We all turned around and sang Happy Birthday to Suzie. And then Boz went over and bought her a shot and asked her if she wanted to play pool.

  The dude did have some moves. Go figure.

  The party moved over to the pool tables and everyone played. Josh was weirdly good at pool. Nobody could beat him. And neither Danny nor Jakobitz had to pay each other twenty bucks, because Caleb was the one who’d been hit on first.

  “Hey Caleb,” I said later, when it was getting late. “Can I ride home with you guys? Looks like Boz has other plans for tonight.”

  We all watched as Boz kissed the birthday girl on her neck, then said something that made her blush.

  “Of course you can ride with us,” Caleb said. “Let’s go.”

  We grabbed our coats. “Does Josh really hate it when you get drunk? Or was that just some weird excuse?”

  Caleb laughed. “Just talking out of my ass. Though once he had to pick me up here when I was wasted. He and I had had this horrible fight, and I drove here and let Danny and Jakobitz get me plowed.”

  “The dude can’t hold his liquor at all,” Danny agreed.

  I tried to imagine Josh and Caleb fighting and…I couldn’t picture it. Not at all. But maybe I needed to stop imagining that everyone else’s lives were perfect.

  “That’s why that excuse popped out. Memories.” He put a hand on Josh’s shoulder and squeezed. “Women never hit on me. She caught me by surprise.”

  “They hit on you all the fucking time,” Danny scoffed. “You just don’t notice. Should we say g’night to Boz? I don’t want to mess with his momentum.”

  We all glanced at him in the corner of the bar, where he was now liplocked with Suzie.

  “Night, Boz,” I called out cheekily.

  He gave me the thumbs up without breaking the seal of their kiss.

  At least somebody would go home optimistic.

  * * *

  “Your friends are awesome,” Boz said on Monday. “The weekend was killer.”

  “They are awesome. But I think the whole experience agreed with you. Is that a hickey?” I left my chair for a closer look at his neck.

  “It might be.” Boz spun his chair, ruining my view. “Suzie didn’t leave my apartment until Sunday. And I’m seeing her again next weekend.”

  Well. At least one of us was having sex. “Can I show you something I’ve been working on? It’s not as much fun as Suzie. But it’s pretty fun.”

  “Sure. I’m getting dizzy anyway.” He stopped the chair.

  At first, Boz didn’t really understand my idea. But I knew it was solid, so I kept up my explanation. “On Family Night any kid fourteen or under who wears a basketball jersey or any kind of Barmuth spirit wear will get in free.”

  “Um,” Boz said, scratching his chin. “But kids’ tickets are only four bucks. And a movie ticket is eight. I don’t think the price tag is keeping people away.”

  “You’re right—it isn’t. But that’s not the point. There are local families who don’t know how much they’d enjoy attending a live game, right? Plus, people love to think they’re getting something for free. They’ll get that four-buck ticket for free and then spend the money at the concession stand. Either way it will sound as if Barmuth was giving a gift to the Henning community. Meanwhile, adult tickets cost eight bucks, and we fill the place up. People will have a good time, and then they’ll come back. I’m trying to create a positive feedback loop.”

  Boz laughed. “Listen to the marketing major throw the buzzwords around.”

  “Admit it. You like it.”

  “I do. I just wish I’d thought of it myself.” He rotated his chair again as our boss approached. “Arnie! Listen to this idea that Axel has. It’s genius.”

  Arnie’s face was grim, and he didn’t respond to Boz. “Axel, would you come with me, please? I need a word.”

  I knew something was wrong just by the tone of his voice. Following him into his office, I closed the door before taking a seat. And when he opened his mouth and told me the problem, I was flabbergasted.

  “Axel, I’ve just been notified by our compliance office that they’ve received a complaint of sexual harassment against you.”

  For several seconds I just sat there replaying the words in my head. “What? From who?”

  He folded his hands in his lap. “An employee of the college has made a complaint that you sexually harassed a graduate student.”

  Something about that statement sounded off. “A graduate student is accusing me of harassment?”

  “Well…” He hesitated. “It’s most unusual. The complainant isn’t the graduate student. A third party has made the accusation.”

  Seriously? “Do I even know any graduate students? This makes no sense.” My stomach lurched as I reached the only feasible conclusion. “Oh. Hang on. Is the person I’ve supposedly harassed named Henry Caxton Williams?”

  Arnie nodded slowly.

  I blew out an angry breath. “That’s insane, but now I understand why this is happening. The complaint is completely baseless—Cax and I are friends from way back. We used to go to the same church diocese retreats starting in the third grade. His father doesn’t like the fact that I’m gay. And a few days ago he figured out that I’d moved here to Henning. He wasn’t happy.”

  Arnie was silent for a long minute. “Axel, you need a lawyer.”

  “Why?” I nearly gagged on the word. “I haven’t done anything wrong. If Cax’s dad is the guy who filed the complaint, Cax would never support it. No matter how much of an asshole his father was trying to be.” Shit. That was true, right? I felt sick wondering what Cax might do to hang on to his lie. Tendrils of doubt began to curl around my heart.

  Maybe I did need a lawyer.

  My boss massaged his temples. “Kid, I think I get what you’re saying. But this Williams guy has worked at the college for years. He understands that sexual harassment claims go into an employee’s file, and he wants you to have this stain against you. Do yourself a favor and talk to a lawyer before you respond to this claim. Don’t even tell your friend about it. Any communication you have with him right now could compromise you.”

  How depressing. Cax and I were already avoiding each other, anyway. “Okay,” I heard myself say. “Where can I find a lawyer who understands this issue?”

  Arnie studied me with watery blue eyes. “I’ll help you. But please tell me you never badgered this kid.”

  I gave my head a violent shake. “Never. He and I are very close. And that’s the problem. It’s he and his father who barely speak to each other.”

  He sighed. “What a fucked-up world this is. Lemme talk to my friend at the law school and we’ll find you someone who can help.”

  When I went back to my desk I picked up my notes for Family Night. My hands were shaking.

  * * *

  Arnie was true to his word. Not forty-eight hours later, I sat down with a young lawyer who had agreed to help me at a reduced rate. And thank God. I didn’t have much money. Mr. Williams probably knew that, too. He was trying to scare me away.

  I was afraid it might actually work.

  The first billable hour I spent with my lawyer was a really uncomfortable one. He asked me to start at the beginning. So I told him about our debacle at camp when we were teenagers. And how I’d run into Cax at the basketball game. (I skipped the part about seeing him on the video, because it wasn’t relevant.)

  I had to tell him about Merryline, of course. Until you’ve described your pathetic sex life to a perfect stranger, you haven’t lived.

  I finished up by describing the confrontation I’d witnessed
between Cax and his dad in front of their house, and the bad vibe I got off him.

  “And that’s it,” I said. “I know I didn’t do anything wrong. But I don’t know how to make this go away.”

  Trevor—my new lawyer—looked thoughtful. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You need to accuse Mr. Williams of harassing you.”

  I stared back at him. “You want me to…what?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Think about it. Your best defense is a good offense. He’s done this because he wants a mark on your permanent record. So you need to leave one on his.”

  “Wait a second.” Now my head was spinning. “I don’t see how I can make his bogus claim go away by making one of my own.”

  “But I think you can. If you accuse him of harassing you, the college will be required to investigate, which he does not want. And it’s not bogus. He is harassing you, Axel. You’re having sex with his son, so he’s trying to get you fired. That’s what sexual harassment looks like.”

  “There was no actual, uh, penetrative sex with his son,” I said quietly.

  Trevor rolled his bright blue eyes. “That is a technicality. You went to a hotel with him. Do not defend yourself by saying it didn’t happen. Defend yourself by saying that his father has no right to complain.”

  I took a deep breath, because my lawyer was suddenly making a whole lot of sense. “You would make an excellent gay man, Trevor.”

  He laughed. “I’ll remember that if my wife ever leaves me. In the meantime, with your permission, I’m going to write out a complaint. As your lawyer, I’d really advise that you sign it. It’s the best way of making sure he knows that you will not run out of town with your tail between your legs.”

  “That’s what he wants.”

  “Exactly. Don’t give it to him.”

  I was still worried. “What is he going to do to me if I file the complaint, though? What’s his next move?”

  My lawyer tapped his pencil on the desk. “The obvious response is to withdraw his complaint. Then you’ll withdraw yours, because without his yours is baseless.”