Home Improvement — a Love Story

by Tara Lain

  “Thanks. I think we should get some steak or salmon on the weekend to celebrate our windfall.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Then next Friday, we’ll leave early and have some good meals on the way to Eugene.”

  “Fun.”

  “By the way, I saw MaryAnn on my way home. She’s really jonesing over the concert. You sure you don’t want to take her? I can hang out somewhere in Eugene until you’re done.”

  She looked up, chewing mac and cheese. She swallowed. “No, I really thought about it. Especially since you liked the music so much, I think it would be more fun to go with you. I’ll tell her all about it later.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.” He wasn’t going to say how much her choice made him want to tear up. Being chosen as a companion by your seventeen-year-old daughter was pretty great.

  She popped her dimples. “So tomorrow you’re going on a da-aate.”

  Sweet Jesus, he’d completely forgotten. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “So a college professor, huh?” She grinned.

  “He is that, yes.” He stared at the last of his salad. He actually didn’t love salad, but he wanted to encourage Ellie to eat her greens.

  She was quiet for a minute. “Dad? Is everything okay?”

  “What? Oh yes. It’s great. But you know me. Lots of change at once unsettles me. I’m just a little uneasy.”

  “Well, if that’s all it is, you’re doing great.”

  “Thanks.” He ate the last bite of mac and cheese.

  She finished her food and stood to clear dishes. He got up too and grabbed his plate and glass.

  “Dad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Does Jerry look familiar? I mean, have you ever seen him before?”

  He stopped. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen the man before. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I just thought there was something about him that rang a bell.” She laughed. “Maybe weird guys are more familiar than I thought.” She started loading the dishwasher.

  Gabe rinsed the plates, handed them to Ellie, and desperately wished he knew what his favorite weird guy was thinking.

  DAMN. THE phone rang so sharply in his ear, it felt like a migraine. Jerry swatted at it, and his back screamed in protest. What the hell? The phone rang again and he opened his eyes. Damn. He was lying on the floor in front of the door where he’d fallen asleep.

  He felt for the phone. “Yes?”

  “We need to pick you up. Where are you?”

  Fred. Of course. “Hello to you too.”

  “Come on, Jerry, enough. There’s a lot to do.”

  “I know.” He sat up uncomfortably. “I’ll meet you tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t we have dinner tonight and plan?”

  “I’d just as soon not.”

  “Come on, bro, you’ve got to unbury yourself sometime.”

  He stared at the floor. One more pizza or dinner with Fred? If he could have that pizza with Gabe…? He released a soft sigh. Fred was right. He couldn’t walk away. “Okay, I guess.”

  “Good. Where?”

  “Where are you?”

  “San Francisco.”

  “Meet me in Ashland.”

  “Oregon?”

  “No, North Carolina. Yes, Oregon. At Doves. It’s in the old hotel.”

  “Okay. What time?”

  “Text me when you get to Medford. I’ll figure out my timing.”

  “Okay. Can’t wait to see you.”

  “Yeah. Wear your hat.” He hung up. Slowly, he rose from the floor. So this is it. The end of… whatever this has been.

  He walked through the big house, room by room, entering the great room last. He stopped next to the coffee table, knelt down, and ran a hand across the wood. Then he settled on the floor, pressed his cheek against the table, and fell back to sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  “DAD, AREN’T you going to get ready for your date?”

  Gabe looked up from the drawings of the desk he was working on at the card table in his workshop—the card table that would move to their dining room when Gabe took the other pieces to Jerry’s. “Yeah. Be right there.”

  “He’s coming here, so if you’re half-dressed, he’s going to know. Come on.” She closed the door.

  Gabe sat there. No part of him wanted to move. Creating another piece of furniture for Jerry seemed important. Going on a date didn’t. Come on, don’t be dumb. He might never see Jerry again, whereas Clark had gone out of his way to make the date happen.

  He stood and walked into the house. He might not be taking the date seriously, but Ellie sure was. The house smelled like furniture polish and Simple Green.

  Ellie planted her fists on her hips, and he grinned. “I’m going.”

  When he reemerged five minutes later, she looked up from her laptop and frowned. “This is it?”

  He glanced at his black jeans and plaid shirt. “What? There’s nowhere in Oregon I can’t go dressed like this.”

  She bounced up and took his arm. “Come with me.”

  “Ellie.”

  She dragged him back to his closet and pulled it open. “Hmm.”

  “Right. Which pair of black jeans would you like me to choose?” He waved his arm at the meager collection.

  “Okay, keep the jeans.” She reached into the far back of his small closet and pulled out a white shirt. “Here.”

  “Come on. I wear that to funerals and weddings.”

  “Put it on.” She crossed her arms again.

  “Okay.” He pulled off the plaid and put on the long-sleeved white button-down. “My funeral shirt. This could spell the death of the date.”

  She snorted. “Or you’ll be setting a day for your nuptials.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.” He tucked the shirt in.

  She pulled an old jean jacket from the closet. “Put this over it.”

  “I haven’t worn that in years.”

  “Because your life has been dedicated to plaid. Come on.” She jiggled the jacket.

  Making a face at her, he slid the jacket on. At least it still fit. If anything, it was a little loose.

  She immediately went to work rolling up the sleeves and folding back the cuffs of the white shirt. She stepped back. “Very stylish if I do say so myself. Wear this to the concert, okay?”

  “Anything for my birthday girl.”

  Their doorbell rang. Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Showtime!”

  He could have gone all day without thinking of the date in those terms.

  She hurried out to the living room, and he followed more slowly. He’d been optimistic about the date the other night, but now when he thought of spending time with a guy, all he could feel were Jerry’s lips. Right, and Jerry’s ass.

  By the time he got to the door, Ellie had completed introductions and was welcoming Clark inside. He instantly wanted to kiss his daughter. Clark wore a sports coat over his white shirt and jeans.

  Ellie said, “Please sit down, Mr. Rickson.”

  Clark said, “Call me Clark.”

  “Thank you, Clark.”

  Yes, thank you, Ellie, since I didn’t know Clark’s last name. Gabe said, “Hi. Welcome to our house.”

  Clark smiled. “Thank you.” He stepped forward, extended a hand, then pulled Gabe in for a one-armed guy hug. When Clark let go, he sat on the couch.

  Okay, so he was serious about getting to know Ellie. Gabe sat in the slightly ratty chair across from Clark.

  Ellie bustled over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area and returned with some chopped veggies and dip. She set them on the coffee table—not nearly as nice as the one he’d taken to Jerry’s—in front of Clark. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  For a second Clark seemed to think about whether she’d be offended if he refused, then said, “No thanks. I think we’ll be heading to dinner soon, but I’d love one of these carrots.” He dipped it in whatever was in the bowl and crunched it into his mouth.

  G
abe laughed. “You’ve earned points by getting Ellie to voluntarily eat extra vegetables.”

  Clark raised an eyebrow as he chewed. “I’ve only seen her serve vegetables so far.”

  Gabe laughed, and Ellie gave them both a look as she grabbed a carrot, drowned it in dip, and shoved it in her mouth.

  Clark asked, “What grade are you in, Ellie?”

  “I’m a junior.”

  “Have you decided on college?” He munched another carrot.

  “Uh, no. I’m applying for scholarships all over the country.”

  “What subject do you plan to study?”

  “Music, I hope. Maybe with an English minor.”

  “Well now, you just happen to know someone who teaches English, so if I can offer any advice, just call me, okay? Your dad has my number.”

  “Thank you, that’s very nice.” She stood. “So you two need to get to your dinner, right? Don’t let me keep you.”

  Gabe wanted to laugh but managed to stay cool with his almost seventeen-year-old hostess. A few minutes later, she escorted them out the door, and gave Gabe a secret thumbs-up.

  As they walked to the car, Clark grinned. “Do you think she’s planning a party now that we’re gone?”

  Gabe shook his head. “If that girl wanted to party she’d have lots of chances. Nope, she’s just that responsible. Sometimes I worry that she’s had to be too mature too fast, but I think it’s her nature.”

  Clark held Gabe’s door, which made him want to blush, but Clark didn’t seem to think anything about it. He said, “Trust me. Just because a girl has a single dad doesn’t mean she’s automatically mature. I see lots of kids that are forced into situations where they need to become grown-ups and they don’t. They act out, get into lots of trouble, and generally screw up. I agree, Ellie’s a responsible kid.”

  “I’m lucky.”

  Clark pulled away from the curb. “Probably also a good dad.”

  “Thanks. I hope so. Do you have kids?”

  Clark glanced over. “Only the ones I teach.”

  “Never been married?”

  “I knew I was gay when I was eleven.”

  “Holy crap. Seriously?”

  “Yeah. I mean, I knew I was different. Then a couple years later, my mom sat me down and told me about the birds and bees and how sometimes birds like birds and bees like bees and how that’s okay.” He grinned. “She was a bit more educational than that. It didn’t take long for me to understand why she told me. It was accepted in my family. I told my friends, and I was out.”

  “Man, some guys have all the luck.” Gabe smiled and shook his head.

  “I gather you were still experimenting with heterosexuality when you were sixteen.”

  “Yeah. My parents were too wrapped up in their addictions to notice anything about me. Plus, nobody ever believes I’m gay.”

  “I’d think in high school that’d be good. Hell, high school kids can be assholes.”

  “Yeah, but nobody ever assumed I was gay. Not my closest friends, even. So I felt different, but since no one ever guessed, I actually figured I was wrong. Maybe I was just gun-shy of girls because of my mother or something. I was dating this girl, and she wanted to have sex. I told her I didn’t want to, and of course she said the magic words.”

  “What?”

  “She said, ‘What are you? Gay?’ I had her on her back so fast they couldn’t have recorded it on film. I guess the adrenaline and pure sixteen-year-old horniness got me through it. Of course I ejaculated without even wondering if she took the pill. And at the age of seventeen, I got Ellie.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Nope, he didn’t help either.” They both laughed, and Gabe glanced at the Ashland sign as they entered town. “I forgot to ask where we’re going.”

  “I like Doves Restaurant a lot. How about you?”

  “Haven’t been there.” He didn’t say that was because their prices were above his pay grade, but maybe it would be okay to charge his meal, since he and Ellie were a little richer that week. Of course, that reminded him of Jerry.

  “You okay?”

  Damn, he’d been frowning. “Yeah, just thinking about work.”

  “I gathered you like your job. All your coworkers seem to think you’re the best.”

  “I do like it. I just have some side gigs I need to wrestle.”

  “Your furniture business?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  “I noticed the dining room table at your house. Did you make that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Beautiful and very original. I can’t imagine how much work that takes.”

  “That’s the problem. Hard to make it pay.”

  Clark pulled into a parking space beside Lithia Park. “Hope you don’t mind a little walk.”

  “Not in Ashland I don’t.”

  They both got out of the car and met on the sidewalk. As they headed toward the town plaza, Clark veered off to the right onto a bridge that crossed Lithia Creek to the park. The spring evening was still cool, but the days were lengthening. There was such a contrast between the light in winter and summer in the Northwest. In the park, a haze of green announced the reappearance of the leaves, and some trees even had full flowers. Gabe smiled.

  Clark said, “I love this park. It’s one of the great things about living here.”

  “I bet.”

  “Why don’t you move to Ashland?”

  “Can’t afford it.”

  Silently, they walked past the lower duck pond and through the plaza, then up Main Street toward the hotel. The sidewalks were full since the Oregon Shakespeare Festival was back in action.

  Gabe asked, “Do you go to the plays?”

  “Yes, pretty much all of them. I assign them to my students, so I have to see them too. Do you?”

  “I’ve been to a couple. I wanted Ellie to see Shakespeare.”

  “Did she like it?”

  “Yes, a lot.”

  They walked into the small foyer of Doves Restaurant, and Clark gave his name to the hostess. Wow, he’d even made a reservation.

  She walked them to a back corner table by the window.

  Clark pointed. “Want the aces and eights chair or facing the door?”

  “Hickok’s fine with me.” Gabe chuckled as he sat facing the wall, the chair position in which Wild Bill Hickok was shot from behind holding the famous aces and eights hand. Clark slid in across from him looking toward the elegant little restaurant.

  They both ordered halibut, although Gabe cringed at the “market price.” He said, “So tell me about you. I know you had a great mom. What else?”

  “You’re right about my mom.”

  “She still living?”

  “Oh yeah. She’s in Brooklyn with her second husband. Sadly, my dad died young.”

  “Sorry.”

  “He was great while I had him.”

  “Did you always want to be a teacher?”

  “No. I wanted to be an astronaut. When I discovered astronauts had to learn math, I decided teaching sounded a lot better. My mom’s a teacher, although she teaches high school.”

  Imagine having great parents.

  The waitress brought their fish. Clark had a glass of chardonnay, and Gabe had beer. They chatted and chewed.

  Gabe said, “This is really good.”

  “Glad you’re enjoying it. Have room for dessert? I hear they—” He stopped and got an odd expression—half-amused and half-questioning.

  Gabe started to turn around. “What?”

  Clark grabbed his arm. “Don’t turn yet. These two strange guys just walked in. They aren’t seated yet.”

  “How strange?”

  “They’re both wearing hats and sunglasses. I’m not sure how they can see outside. One has on a cap. You know, like a ball cap. The other one’s like a snow hat, which is odd right off since it’s not very cold.”

  Gabe felt himself frowning. Sadly, the snow hat wasn’t nearly as odd as it should be. He wanted to turn aro
und so badly, but what if it was Jerry? Hell, it can’t be Jerry, can it? Unless whomever the man is that Jerry’s with makes him not shy. Or maybe he was just faking the shyness. But why would he do that? And why would the guy eat pizza every night if he was perfectly able to go to a nice restaurant and eat?

  Brain exploding.

  He couldn’t stand it. He turned around, and his stomach dropped to his shoes. Three tables away, wearing the very familiar stupid knitted beanie and giant sunglasses, was Jerry. The man with him appeared to be young also, with a slim face and high cheekbones like Jerry’s. Around the edges of the other guy’s baseball cap, his hair was blond, and his sunglasses weren’t quite as big as Jerry’s, but still covered a lot of his face.

  Gabe wanted to jump up, grab the guy out of his chair, and shake him until he admitted who he was and what he meant to Jerry. He forced himself to turn back around.

  Clark stared at him with a crease between his eyebrows. “Are you okay?” He put a firm hand on Gabe’s forearm. “You turned white. Do you know those men?”

  He gulped some water. “No. I mean, one of them might be a client of mine.”

  “Client? Like furniture?”

  “Yes.”

  Clark looked over Gabe’s shoulder toward where Jerry sat and then back at Gabe. “I think we’re done here, right? I mean, across the street is the best ice cream in Ashland. Arguably, the best in southern Oregon. How about we get dessert over there?”

  “Sounds perfect.” Gabe’s stomach and chest didn’t feel perfect. His exploded brain was flying in too many directions, most of them toward Jerry. Wanting to ask why Jerry had kissed Gabe. Wanting an explanation for whom the guy with him was and how he got to take Jerry out. Wanting to scream that Clark wasn’t anyone special to him, which was a craptastic thing to be thinking about a nice guy. Fuck!

  Gabe took slow, unobvious breaths as Clark negotiated the bill. Gabe pressed his credit card toward Clark, who shook his head, but Gabe insisted they split it. Especially in light of the not-at-all nice things he’d been thinking.

  Finally, with the money wrestling match resolved and their credit cards returned, Clark put his jacket on, and Gabe did the same. They both stood, and Gabe took a moment to get ahold of himself before he turned around to walk out.