by Nick Poff
Ed took in the cheaply paneled room, sparsely furnished with a lumpy sofa, a La-Z-Boy that had definitely seen better days, a castoff coffee table, and a few kitchen chairs. A threadbare Oriental rug covered the plank floor in front of the promised fireplace. The fireplace—a huge, almost ornate stone affair—managed to make the rest of the room look even shabbier.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting an Aspen ski lodge,” Ed said, gingerly stepping inside, “but I have to admit I was picturing something a little more romantic than this. Oh, well, what do you expect from a bunch of straight guys who come up here to fish?”
Rick carried their provisions to the kitchen. “A few empties?” he inquired, pointing to the litter of beer cans and bottles scattered near the sink. “Hell, it looks like Laverne and Shirley’s brewery blew up.”
“As long as Lenny and Squiggy aren’t around, I can deal with it.” Ed righted a fishing pole he’d knocked over.
“At least the water runs,” Rick commented, trying the sink tap. “And it looks like someone left the gas on, so we can cook. Probably so wasted on Bud they forgot to turn it off.”
They inspected the rest of the cabin, stopping at the tiny bathroom.
“I don’t know, baby,” Rick said, gazing at the toilet that hadn’t been cleaned in some time. “I may pee in the woods after all.”
The bedroom was a nice surprise, well-paneled and cozy, with two double beds, a nightstand, and a lamp. The bare mattresses were in surprisingly good condition.
“How much you wanna bet it was Mrs. Smith who furnished this room?” Ed said, bouncing on one of the beds.
“Yeah, did this one and gave up,” Rick said, looking out the window. “What do you know, there is a lake out there. I can see a path leading down to the water. Wanna go check it out?”
“Let’s go check out that fireplace first.” Ed was shivering a bit. “It’s cold in here.”
They walked back to the living room. Ed stuck his head up the chimney to locate the damper. Rick opened the big wood box, located off to the left side.
“Full wood box, my ass,” he roared. “Look at that. Nothing more than some kindling. Hell, I’m not gonna go looking for wood in the dark. I guess it’s the kerosene heater for us tonight.”
Ed sat down on the hearth, head cocked. “Do you hear that?”
Rick looked up. Sure enough, rain had begun to patter on the roof. They both began to chuckle.
“Baby,” Rick said, sitting down next to Ed. “I think your roaring fire just got drowned out for the weekend.”
* * * * *
Later that night they lay huddled together in one of the double beds. The lamplight provided a nice glow to the room, and despite the cold, Ed felt quite comfortable.
“So, how’s your romantic weekend so far?” Rick teased.
Ed pulled Rick closer, grateful for his body heat. “Darlin’, the only thing I need for a romantic weekend is you. The setting doesn’t matter at all.”
“It’s a good thing,” Rick cracked. “’Cause I can think of more romantic bus stations than this.”
“Oh, cool it.” Ed gave him a playful knock against his head. “Just think of how nice it was for Gordy to do this for us. You know he’s lonely, and for him to think of us was really nice.”
“Probably his way of getting even with us.”
“Will you quit, already? Besides, are you forgetting that for the first time ever we are really alone? No phones, no neighbors, no work, no kids. We can love on each other all we want, and not be looking over our shoulders for a change. I think that’s pretty incredible.”
Rick smiled, rubbing against Ed. “You’re right. I’m just having some fun at Gordy’s expense. It was nice of him, and you’re right about another thing: All I need to make this a wonderful weekend is you.”
“Keep rubbing on me like that, and you’re gonna get plenty of me.”
“I’m merely keeping warm, baby.”
“Yeah? Well, you know what happens when you rub two sticks together long enough. You get a spark.”
“Listen to the boy scout,” Rick said softly, rubbing harder. “You want ignition, baby, you got it.”
* * * * *
Saturday morning dawned wet and gloomy. The rain had stopped, but the trees outside the cabin were weeping water, and the ground was cold and muddy. Ed was glad they had brought books and a deck of cards. It didn’t look too promising for exploring.
Rick, either finished ragging on Gordy and the cabin or keeping his thoughts to himself, cheerfully made them a big breakfast. Ed swept the beer empties into a garbage bag they’d brought for their own trash, then set the splintery table with mismatched plates and cutlery.
“You know,” Ed remarked, “I always wondered what people did with their old plates and beat-up kitchen stuff. They stock lake cabins with them.”
“Or peddle them at garage sales.” Rick flipped bacon onto Ed’s plate. “I gotta admit, though, this stove is great, and that fridge looks almost brand-new. Oh, well. That’s probably just to keep the beer cold.”
“Listen to that quiet, though. I’m not even missing the stereo right now. I never realized how much noise there is until now.” Ed paused for a moment, listening. “Here that? You can hear the trees dripping. If we were at home, I’d have records going, Jett would be hollering for his breakfast, and we’d both be waiting for the phone to ring with either an emergency for me or a Claire-and-the-kids crisis for you.”
Rick nodded, sipping, and grimacing a bit, at his instant coffee. “You’re right, baby. I can’t believe how well I slept last night.” He glanced out the kitchen window, where a patch of lake was visible through the trees. “What do you say, after breakfast, we pull on some boots and go skip a few stones? I don’t think I’m up to a hike in this weather, but I’d like to see the lake.”
“Deal.”
Boots, coats, and caps on, they carefully followed the path to the lake, avoiding the biggest puddles. Ed was surprised to see lingering snow in the darker parts of the woods. Spruce Lake loomed up before them, as small as Gordy had promised, but Ed guessed it would be a fair hike around its perimeter.
The water lay still and gray under the windless, cloudy sky. The trees, still winter bare, stood thick and tall around the lake, seemingly protecting it from the rest of the world.
“I feel like I’m a million miles away from everyone.” Ed sighed. “Isn’t it great?”
“Yeah,” Rick said, taking Ed’s hand and leading him to the shore. “Funny, though, calling it Spruce Lake. Where are the spruces?”
“Over there.”
Ed pointed to the other side, where indeed a large stand of spruce trees rose up, their dull green the only color in the monochromatic setting. Worse-for-wear boat docks dotted the lake, and if Ed squinted, he could see other cabins and cottages behind the trees, apparently all deserted.
Rick took Ed in his arms for a hug. He kissed him softly, lingeringly, then sighed with contentment.
“I swear I will never second-guess Gordy Smith again. He was right. This was exactly what I needed, a quiet, peaceful place where I can hug and kiss my man, hell, even strip down and make love to him by the water, and no one would see or care.”
They stood, locked in each other’s arms, gazing at the stark but beautiful scene before them.
“Beats the hell out of Coleman Street, doesn’t it?” Ed commented.
“Would you like something like this someday, baby? A cabin by the lake? A place where we could hide from the world?”
“Yes,” Ed answered, his eyes on the water. “A place we could escape to when we need it. A place where the only things I fix would be my own, ’cause I wanted to, ’cause it would make it better for us. And no mail for you to deliver. Just a little place like this where we could sit and listen to the quiet, and forget about everything.” He sighed. “A place where your parents wouldn’t have to worry about us loving each other as much as we do.”
Rick turned Ed’s face back to his. “Are yo
u still thinking about that?”
Ed shrugged. “A little bit.”
Rick squeezed him tighter, and they rocked back and forth on the cold ground.
“Don’t worry, baby, at least not now. No one can hurt us here. We’ve got the whole rest of this weekend to ourselves, and I promise I’m gonna love you enough, and good enough, that it will last until we get another chance like this.” He kissed Ed again, and the love he promised flowed from his lips to Ed’s. “Someday, baby, we’ll have a place like this, if you want. Don’t throw out those old plates. We’ll need ’em for then, okay?”
Rick kissed him one more time for good measure before letting him go. He bent over, picking up a stick that had washed ashore. He used it to carve RICK LOVES ED in the mud by the lake’s edge.
“That oughta get someone’s attention,” Ed remarked with a smile.
“Maybe,” Rick said, unsatisfied. He threw his head back and yelled. “Rick loves Ed. I just wanna be his one-man band.”
The sound of his voice bounced against the trees on the far shore, echoing back to them. They stood, hand in hand, listening to the silence that followed.
Ed pulled Rick to him for a kiss. “That got my attention, darlin’. Do we really need anybody else’s?”
“No.” Rick dropped the stick so he could hold Ed with both arms. “I’d planned to do a lot more shouting, but I guess I don’t need to. As long as you know, that’s all I care about.”
* * * * *
The weekend passed quietly from Saturday to Sunday. They remained indoors mostly, reading, fixing snacks, enjoying the peace of their surroundings and each other’s company. They played a ridiculous, cheating game of gin Saturday night, which ended completely when, laughing hysterically, they began throwing the cards around the room. They spent another night sleeping close together after a long, lazy lovemaking session. It was, despite the lack of Ed’s hoped-for fire, a perfect weekend filled with relaxation, contentment, and love.
Early Sunday afternoon, Ed sprawled on the thin carpet in front of the fireplace.
“I can at least pretend,” he told Rick, who flopped down beside him, laughing.
“Next time we bring our own wood, baby,” he said, a hand over his eyes, pretending to shield them from the fire’s glare.
“I hope there is a next time. We owe Gordy big time for this, you know.”
“Well, I can’t imagine wanting to be here this summer, when that lake will be filled with boats and probably screaming kids, but maybe next fall, when it gets all quiet again like this, we can come back. That big, soft heart of Gordy’s? Hell, he’ll probably have a key made for us.”
“Something to look forward to,” Ed said, smiling at him.
Rick leaned over for a kiss. “There’s lots of things to look forward to. Are you ready to talk about it?”
“Yes. You wanna go first?”
“No, baby. I’m awfully curious about what’s going on in that head of yours. In fact, I’ve been wondering about it since last Saturday. What did you want to tell me?”
Ed pulled himself up so he could sit leaning against the battered sofa. He pulled Rick next to him and held his hand. “I wish I had some sort of . . . speech prepared. I’m not as good with words as you are.”
“You do just great, baby. Just say what’s in your heart. I’ll have no problem understanding that.”
“Okay.” Ed sighed. “Here goes. Rick, you know I love you. I hope you also know that I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“I feel the same way,” Rick murmured, kissing Ed’s cheek.
“Good. ’Cause every thought I have about the future now is about us, not just me. Remember that night at the cemetery?”
Rick nodded.
“I really thought hard about the stuff we talked about, and the things Mrs. Penfield said. Right after that, I went into the bank and opened another savings account.” Ed grinned, rather sheepishly. “I call it my Super Secret Savings. I didn’t want anyone to know about it until we had this talk. I’ve been depositing every extra dollar I have in it. Every penny of it is for us and our future. Oh, it’s not very much, but it’s a start.
“I see us using that money to buy our own house, or anything we think will make us happy. It’s not my money, Rick. It’s our money.”
“Oh, baby,” Rick whispered, rubbing his head against Ed’s. “I love you so much.”
“I’ve also been going over to Mom’s, digging around in the basement. She pretty much dismantled Dad’s workshop. I understand why she did it. The reminders hurt her too much. She didn’t throw anything away, though. She boxed everything up and shoved it aside where she didn’t have to see it. It’s all there, though. If I can find a place for it, I’d like to rebuild the workshop and start messing around, making things. I don’t know if I’d be any good at it, but I’d really like to try. I’m also hoping to find someone who can . . . can kinda take Dad’s place. Someone who can teach me what I need to know.
“See, I remember what you said about me building cabinets to sell. If I turn out to be any good at it, we can be self-sufficient, like Mrs. Penfield said. We won’t have to depend on anyone else for our income. I’m also thinking about chairs, or chests, or whatever. The first thing I want to make is a bookcase, just for you, so you can get all your books out of boxes.
“I see that bookcase in a wonderful study for you someday, but for right now, I’d like it to be in my living room. Our living room. ’Cause there’s nothing more I want in this world than for you to move in with Jett and me. All I’ve wanted for months now is to wake up next to you every day. Would you do me the honor of sharing my house and my life, Rick?”
Tears were rolling down Rick’s face. “Oh, God,” he whispered. “How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve such a good, wonderful man?”
He kissed Ed, and Ed could taste his tears.
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes. I’ll share your house, and your life, and anything else you want to share with me.”
Ed kissed him back and wiped away Rick’s tears. Strangely, there were none of his own. He felt moved even beyond tears, if that was possible. “Thank you, darlin’. That’s all I need to know.”
“Well,” Rick said shakily. “There’s a lot I want to tell you, if it’s okay.” He wiped his nose. “Damn. I need a Kleenex. Would you get me one of those paper towels, baby?”
Ed jumped up and returned with the roll they had brought with them. Rick blew his nose, shaking his head.
“Oh, baby, you’ve made me cry before, but never like this. There’s so much I want to say, but now I’m the one who can’t seem to put it into words. Bear with me, okay? I’ll probably get this all mixed up.”
Ed, laughing softly, kissed him again. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Rick took a moment to compose himself. “Well. I’ve been thinking about our future, too. I’m really excited about you wanting to try to build things. I have a feeling it will make you very happy, and I want that more than anything.
“I’ve been thinking about a new career for me as well. I think I really kicked into gear after my parents’ visit. Oh, baby, I was so mad at them that day. I could go on and on about it, but I won’t. That’s why I haven’t really talked about it since. Here’s the main thing, though. I decided right then and there we were gonna show ’em. We were gonna be together, and we were gonna take care of ourselves, and to hell with everyone. What my dad said, about possibly losing my job with the postal service for being gay, really hurt. Every day since then, I’ve been walking that route, thinking about what I could do instead. And it finally came to me. Thing is, I don’t think it would have, without you. Are you ready for this?”
Ed grinned. “I think so. What have you got in mind?”
“Well, one of the reasons I love being outdoors, walking every day, is because I enjoy all the different houses I get to visit. I’ve always been interested in houses, and architecture, and all that stuff, but I never really gave it much thought. Spending time at Mrs
. Penfield’s, though, really steered me in this direction. I’ve decided, if you approve, to look into getting a license to sell real estate. I know you have to take classes, but I don’t know much more about it. What do you think?”
Ed nodded, smiling. “I think it’s a great idea, darlin’.”
Rick smiled back at him, excitement in his eyes. “It’ll be hard going for a while. I mean, I can’t quit my job. But I figure, between the two of us, we can put together a plan, moneywise and timewise, that will work. See, I don’t know if anyone in Porterfield will let a faggot sell their house, so that’s where you come in. I’m thinking we buy a house, one that’s not in the greatest shape, dirt cheap. Then we’ll fix it up and sell it. You know enough to do most of the work, and I’ll be your grunt, fetching tools, or whatever you need me to do.
“See, we can sell that house for a profit, and move on to another one.” He laughed. “We can beautify Porterfield one house at a time. Eventually, we can work ourselves up to the house we really want. I know this is throwing most of the hard work on you, but I’ll learn by watching you, and hopefully I can take over a lot of it as we go. What do you think?”
Ed shook his head in amazement. “I think it’s great. Why, there’s no end to what we can do together, if we just use our own skills. You’re right. To hell with everyone who doesn’t approve of us.”
“I’m so glad you like my ideas, baby.” Rick leaned over for a kiss. “Oh, I don’t see this happening right away. First, I want to move in with you. I think we need time to get used to each other, living together, but when we’ve got everything figured out, the sky’s the limit. Baby, I feel like I could move mountains when I’m with you.”
He took Ed’s hand, holding it tight. “So, Ed Stephens. Yes, I’ll move in with you, but will you be my lover, my husband, and maybe someday my business partner? Will you marry me?”
Now it was Ed’s turn to cry. “Yes,” he whispered, looking at his hand tightly clasped in Rick’s. “Yes, I will.”
