by Nick Poff
“Well, if you want,” Ed said, “come by the house after we’re done here. I’ll give ya a beer with some green food coloring in it. I’m not sure, though, I’d like to see this crowd tanked up. I think we’re better off.”
Gordy almost choked on his soda pop. “Ya gotta point. Hell, half of ’em will probably be across the street at Buck’s before this night is over with. The streets of Porterfield won’t be safe tonight.”
“Then I’m glad I go to bed early,” Rick said. “Wasn’t it a great day, though? I swear, for the first time in months I didn’t walk that route hunched over from the cold.”
They all agreed Mother Nature had indeed been kind to them for St. Patrick’s Day.
“Here’s to spring,” Gordy proposed, holding up his glass.
They all clinked glasses and drank to spring.
“Course, it means I have to go through with my threat,” Gordy said, setting his glass aside. “I vowed when the weather warmed up I’d start jogging again. I’m gonna lose this gut or else.”
Rick watched Gordy reach for his cigarettes. “Now, that should be something to see,” he remarked as Gordy lit up.
“Hell, I’ll make sure I head by your house every night,” Gordy retorted, exhaling. “You can stand out there with a cup of water, like they do for marathon runners.”
“Yeah, and an ashtray,” Rick shot back, waving smoke away. “And a respirator. Shit, don’t you think you oughta give those up first?”
“One thing at a time, good buddy, one thing at a time,” Gordy said, relishing a deep drag.
Rick rolled his eyes at Ed, who smirked at him. Ed was learning that getting under Gordy’s thick skin wasn’t an easy thing to do.
“So what are you two gonna do with warm weather coming?” Gordy asked as their food was put before them.
Rick and Ed looked at each other and shrugged.
“Beats me,” Rick said, picking up his fork.
“I’ll probably be busier than shit with all the work people have put off all winter,” Ed said. “And I’m guessing Rick will be chasing after three kids with a bad case of spring fever.”
Rick groaned. “You’re probably right.”
Gordy stared at them, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed and said, “You guys need a break.”
Ed snorted. “You gonna give us one?”
Gordy leaned back expansively and smiled. “I just might be able to do that.”
Ed looked at him, puzzled and curious.
“Whatcha got in mind, Gordy?” Rick asked. “You got a time-share in the Bahamas we don’t know about?”
“Nope. Something even better. A cabin in the woods.”
“Huh?” Ed asked, food temporarily forgotten. “What cabin?”
“Well, it’s my dad’s, actually,” Gordy said, forking up corned beef. “It’s just a little three-room place on a small lake, across the line in Michigan. He uses it for fishing trips, and to get away from my mom, although you didn’t hear me say that. Kitchen, living room, bedroom—it’s pretty basic, but there’s a great fireplace, and plenty of wood to keep it going.”
“How ’bout indoor facilities?” Rick asked with narrowed eyes.
“Hell, yes, Benton, you can pee indoors! You don’t have to worry about waving your dick at some damned tree.” Gordy laughed at his own wit. “Anyway, it’s out in the middle of nowhere, and I mean nowhere. Nothing but woods and water, ’cause those damned real estate developers haven’t found it yet. I just wish I had someone to take up there. Thing is, it’d be perfect for you two. Give you a chance to relax before the shit hits the fan, so to speak.”
Ed looked over at Rick. “You know, I’ve never been with you in front of a roaring fire.”
“That’s ’cause we make our own fire, baby.”
“Listen to him.” Gordy snorted. “Seriously, though, it’d be great. Rick here can get away from the kids and the post office, and, Ed, you could have a weekend without hearing from every old lady in town. This time of year no one would be around, and you two could probably do it out in the woods for all anyone cared.”
Ed flashed back to his thoughts of earlier in the day. “You have to admit, Rick, that being alone, I mean really alone, sounds pretty good. Once I settle in with all those painting jobs I have, I won’t have any time for fun, and even if I do, I’ll smell like paint thinner. I think it sounds great.”
Rick looked dubious. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to use it?”
“Sure! I’ve got a key for when I want to go up there, and since the ice is gone, Dad won’t be back there till Memorial Day. He’s been up there with his buddies off and on all winter for ice fishing, so the wood box’ll be full and the place will be aired out. Oh, you may stumble over a few empties, but other than that, it should be fine. Bring your own blankets, though. Knowing my dad, the beds are probably down to bare mattresses.”
Rick sighed. “I just had a Saturday off. I’m not due for a whole weekend off for another month.”
“Aw, geez,” Gordy protested. “With you being Don’s pet, do you think he’s really gonna holler if you ask for a weekend off again this month? Even if he does, I’ll take your route. Hell, I’d love to get outside again. Be a great way to get some exercise. Now, can you think of any other objections?”
Rick looked at Ed, whose eyes were already bright with anticipation.
“Well, if you don’t talk me into it, Ed will. And you’re right, baby, it would be nice to get away somewhere quiet together. If I can work out something with Don, then sign me up.”
* * * * *
The details were hammered out over the next few days. Don graciously agreed to Rick taking off the last weekend in March, and Ed managed to stall the first of his painting jobs until early April.
The weekend prior to their getaway was spent in the usual way at Ed’s house, and talk naturally turned to the following weekend.
“Remember that Saturday in December when you said we’d go away some Saturday to a place neither one of us had been?” Ed asked Rick, putting records on the stereo.
Rick was stretched out on the sofa, Jett purring on his chest. “Yeah, I remember, baby. I hope this is just the first dream we talked about that day to come true.”
“Do you know what today is?” Ed asked, as “Come Saturday Morning” began to play.
Rick scratched his head, doing his best to look mystified. “Gee, I don’t know. Did I forget someone’s birthday?”
Ed tickled him. “It’s the first day of spring, you dork.”
Rick pushed his hand away, giggling. “Watch it. You’ll upset the cat. I know it is, baby. I’ve been thinking about it all week. Do you s’pose, next weekend, maybe we can take a break from making nonstop love in the woods long enough to talk about a few things?”
Ed’s bright smile was Rick’s answer. “I’d like that. I’ve got some things to tell you about.”
Rick’s mystified look was now genuine. “What things?”
Ed lifted Jett to his usual perch in the window. He crawled on top of Rick, holding him close, kissing him.
“Oh, I’ve been doing some thinking and planning of my own over the winter. Next weekend is a perfect time to share it with you. We’ll be all alone, living one of our dreams, thanks to Gordy. And we can talk about the next ones that need to come true.”
Rick kissed him back, sighing happily. “I’m all for that.” His arms went around Ed, and the two men held each other tightly. “Speaking of remembering things, I’ve been remembering the first time I told you I loved you, right here on this very piece of furniture. I remember thinking that it was way too soon, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I told myself I’d have to wait a lot longer to start thinking of you as my lover or my husband. I’d have to wait until I knew for sure what I was thinking was right, that we’d be together forever.”
Rick smiled at him a little sadly. “Thing is, baby, so many people, gay or straight, say ‘forever’ and it doesn’t work out that way. I thought that night I’d b
e lovin’ you forever, but I wanted to know for sure first. You understand?”
Ed nodded.
“I think I know all I need to know, Ed. So, yeah, next weekend I’m ready to start talking about forever with you.”
Ed buried his face in Rick’s neck, telling himself not to cry. He couldn’t get over how many happy tears he had shed in the past five months—certainly more than had fallen from his eyes in the whole twenty-eight previous years.
Rick lifted Ed’s head for a kiss, warm and tender special in place. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. That just shows me you’re as happy and excited as I am. It also lets me know I’ve found the right guy, okay?”
“One Man Band” began to play on the stereo. Rick laughed, hugging him.
“You’ve made your one-man band so very happy,” he said. “Ya know what? If we ever get crazy enough to stand up in front of our friends and families and make vows to each other, I want this song playing. I’m sure we’re not what the guys who wrote it had in mind, but there’s so much joy in the lyrics and the music. It makes me want to shout and dance, the same way loving you does.”
Ed smiled, wiping his eyes. “Are you saying, after all the sappy, slow love songs we’ve been playing for each other all this time, you want our song to be a noisy, upbeat rock number?”
Rick nodded. “Definitely. Because there is nothing slow or sappy about my feelings for you. The joy I feel being with you is noisy, upbeat, and something worth shouting about, like they shout in the song: ‘I just wanna be / I just wanna be / Your one man band.’”
Rick rolled out from under Ed, jumping to his feet. “‘Ain’t no two ways about it. / I just got to shout.’ And I will, baby, next weekend. When we’re all alone on that lake, I’ll shout it to the goddamned heavens.”
He pulled Ed to his feet. “Will you shout it with me, baby?”
Ed hugged him. “I’ll shout it till I’m hoarse, darlin’.”
* * * * *
The next week passed with painful slowness for Ed. He moved from job to job, day to day, mentally counting down the hours until he and Rick would be alone together.
Thursday afternoon, after a stop at the hardware store downtown, Ed drove east on Commerce Street, heading for home, when an impulse made him turn south three blocks early at Race Street. He hadn’t seen Mrs. Penfield for a while, and it occurred to him she might be pleased to hear about the upcoming weekend.
As Ed’s truck rolled into her driveway, he spied Mrs. Penfield in her backyard garden. He tooted the truck’s horn, and she looked up. Seeing who it was, she smiled and waved.
“Mrs. Penfield, one; arthritis, zero,” Ed exclaimed as he joined her. “You must be feeling pretty good today.”
Mrs. Penfield smiled victoriously. “I do indeed. It seemed a wonderful day to check the progress of my spring flowers and start making plans for annuals. Oh, it’s way too soon to plant, but even thinking about the colors we’ll see out here soon makes my old joints feel younger.”
She led him to a bench inside the small rose arbor. “Effie Maude just cleaned and moved this into the garden today. We must sit down and officially christen it for the season. Tell me, Ed. How’s Rick? It’s been much too long since we’ve had a visit. Could I talk you into bringing him over this weekend?”
Ed chuckled, sitting next to her. “Not this weekend, I’m afraid. Actually, that’s what I stopped to tell you about. We’re going away for the weekend. Gordy Smith is letting us use his dad’s fishing cabin on a lake up in Michigan. We’re leaving tomorrow night. I’m so excited. We’ve never really been away together, unless you count a trip to Indy to see his parents.”
Mrs. Penfield beamed at him. “Good for you. I’m glad to see things are going so well. I worried a bit, this past winter.”
“Me too. You know what, though? I really believe everything you said to us. I really believe that incident with Murk the Jerk made us stronger, made us love each other more.”
“I’m glad to see my faith in you two wasn’t misplaced,” she said with a wry smile. “I was confident you’d see past the unpleasantness with Jim, and with Porterfield’s potential disapproval in general. This town doesn’t know it, but it needs you and Rick much more than you need it.”
Ed looked at her in gratitude. “I keep wondering if there is some way we can thank you for your support and everything you’ve told us. Just knowing you’re behind us helps a lot.” Ed frowned suddenly. “Thing is, why are you behind us? I mean, you’ve always been the most tolerant person I’ve ever known, but aren’t you, well, a little shocked by the idea of me and Rick?”
Mrs. Penfield looked thoughtful. “Oh, perhaps at first. I think, though, that any surprise I had in discovering the object of your affection was a man was lost in my happiness for you.”
She put a hand, cruelly ravaged by the arthritis, gently on Ed’s arm. “I’ve never made a secret of my fondness for you, Ed. In many ways you remind me of George Junior. If it were he in your place, I’d like to think I would be just as accepting.”
She giggled, surprising Ed. “Plus, I am what they call a sucker for the sight of a young man in love. Seeing you and Rick together, so obviously in love, is simply double the pleasure.”
Ed put his hand on hers. “You’re the best, Mrs. Penfield. As much as I love my own parents, I’d be honored to have you for a mother.”
“Thank you, Ed. That means a great deal to me.” With some effort, she squeezed his hand. “Now, I must admit I’m curious about your future. Do you and Rick plan to continue as you are indefinitely? I would assume that conventional mating rituals do not apply to young men such as yourselves. How do you signify a deeper commitment to one another?”
Ed shrugged. “Well, you’re right, we can’t get married. I think the next step is to live together. Remember back in the sixties when the hippies made fun of marriage, calling it just a piece of paper? Well, I’m glad of that, really. I don’t need a piece of paper, or a minister’s blessing, to be married to Rick. When we’re living together, I’ll feel just as married as Laurie does to Todd.”
“I see. Ed, can you make me a promise? When the two of you are ready to take this step, will you pay me a visit?”
Ed looked at her, puzzled. “Why, sure. We probably would anyway. Any special reason?”
She smiled. “Oh, maybe, maybe not. First and foremost, I will want to be among the first to extend my congratulations. I may also,” she added mysteriously, “have some sort of a wedding present for you as well.”
“You’ve given us enough already,” Ed protested.
She patted his arm. “Well, then consider it a gift on your part to indulge the romantic notions of an old woman. Do you think this ‘living together’ step might be any time in the near future?”
Ed sighed. “I sure hope so. I’m ready, and I think Rick is, too. I think his concern about leaving the kids is the only thing holding us back. We’re going to talk about it this weekend. We’d decided, weeks ago—after we talked to you, as a matter of fact—that we’d make some decisions come springtime.”
“Ah, springtime,” she said wistfully. “George and I were married in the spring. He proposed in late summer and wanted to get married as soon as possible, but I had my heart set on an early May wedding, when the lilacs are in bloom. Of course this was during the Depression, and we certainly didn’t have the money for a lavish celebration of any kind, but I knew I wanted to become his wife at the time of year when the air is filled with so much promise.” She smiled, rather sadly, Ed thought, assuming she was thinking of her late husband. “I hope this happens in this season for you and Rick as well.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” Ed smiled back at her.
“Good. I expect to hear good news when you return from your weekend away.”
* * * * *
Late Friday afternoon found Ed preparing for the weekend at the cabin. He gathered up bedding and warm clothes, while Three Dog Night’s “Out in the Country” played over and over again on th
e stereo. Jett followed him around the house, full of suspicion.
“I’m sorry, cat, but you’re on your own this weekend. Mom’s coming over to feed you, and that’ll probably be more company than you want.”
Rick arrived, and soon the car was loaded and ready to go. After a fast-food stop on the edge of town, they headed toward the interstate. Although the weather was cool once again and the skies threatened rain, the two men were in high spirits. They sang along with their new favorite radio song, “Morning Train.”
“You know, baby,” Rick said, slowing down for a semi ahead of them, “it’s a good thing neither of us can sing worth a damn, or one of us might get offended by the noise.”
Ed laughed. “You got that right. But you know, I wish one of us had a portable cassette player. It would have been great to have all those tapes you made from my records. ‘Morning Train’ and the other stuff on the radio is great, but it’s just not right for this weekend. I could do with some of those mushy love songs we listen to at home, and ‘One Man Band.’ Just think: two whole days, all to ourselves.”
“Well, I could sing to you, baby, but I might scare off all the deer.”
They bantered lightheartedly as they rolled north on I-69, Rick ignoring the 55 mph speed limit. After they crossed the Michigan border, Ed consulted Gordy’s directions, and eventually they were on a narrow, two-lane county road, looking for Spruce Lake. A few left and right turns later, they pulled into the rutted drive next to the cabin, almost invisible in the pitch-black night. As Gordy had promised, the place was deserted.
“Wow,” Rick exclaimed, peering into the gloom. “I’d hate to have to call for help out here. You’d be long dead before anyone found you. Good thing Gordy, at least, knows where we are.”
Leaving the car lights on to guide them, they carried supplies to the door. Ed unlocked it with Gordy’s key, then fumbled for a light switch. The lights came on, and the two of them looked around, shock and surprise on their faces.
“Not exactly something you’d see on a travel brochure, is it?” Rick remarked.
