by Clancy Nacht
He turned back to Forrest and smiled awkwardly. “Is breakfast okay with you? I haven’t had dinner fixings in the house lately; I seem to spend every night with you.”
Forrest’s eyes widened. “Breakfast? You mean like spend the—” He blushed brightly and looked away. “Oh, right. I get it. Um, yeah, that’s fine. I like eggs any time of day.”
Edwin laughed off the shared embarrassment; the last thing he wanted was for his complex feelings toward Forrest to bleed through into the kind of innuendo that ruined friendships. “I like eggs too. I’ll make you something tasty, and you can feed a bit of it to Nasty. You’re both welcome anytime.”
Stepping away from the door, Edwin motioned toward the street. “Shall we get the kids and scram? You can tail me to my place.”
“Well, um… I’m not sure if Nasty’ll be willing to ride in the car. I got him to the vet and back, but he weren’t too happy about it.” Forrest folded his arms and looked sheepish. “I understand if you don’t want me over without him.”
“Oh, well.” Edwin gestured pointlessly for a few moments as his brain tried to process the shifting situation. “I like you too, Forrest, not just your cat. If you think he’ll be all right on his own, then please do come along. Do you want a ride? It’s cramped, but you could squeeze into the middle between Francesca and me. Have you ever ridden in a Golden Hawk?”
“Can’t say I have, and can’t say I’ll be sorry for the opportunity, if that’s all right with you.” Forrest disappeared into the break room with Edwin following curiously behind. The mechanic opened the fridge, pulled off a hunk of the rib eye Jenna had brought, and dropped it in Nasty’s dish. He petted Nasty when the cat came running. “You okay eatin’ alone?”
Nasty gave no response other than to turn his head sideways to chew the meat.
“I think he’s fine.” Forrest smiled at Edwin as he put things away, then followed Edwin out and locked up.
The mechanic squeezed into the middle seat beside the cat cabin after Edwin settled Francesca in. The lack of space reinforced how broad-shouldered, how powerfully muscled Forrest’s upper body was. He smelled of grease, sweat, and Lava soap.
Edwin started the car, and Forrest turned on the radio without asking.
“I just get AM on mine. Trying to be a purist. Thinking of putting in a real sound system, though. I miss good music when I’m driving a long ways. What do you listen to?”
“Oh, uh. I don’t.” Edwin shifted gears and kept his gaze on the road, too aware of the strong body pressed against his side. “I haven’t listened to music since Howard died. It was something we always did together. He’d sing along, even if he didn’t know the words. He had a beautiful voice.”
Edwin’s expression tightened, self-control working overtime. Forrest rushed to turn off the radio, but Edwin shook his head.
“It’s all right. I just can’t listen alone. It’s been just Frannie and me for eleven years. I got used to the silence.”
“Eleven years?” Forrest shifted closer, radiating affection, but Edwin couldn’t bear pity. “That’s a long time to be goin’ without music and company. You think your partner wanted that for you?”
“Howard deserved better than I gave him while he was alive. I have a lot to atone for. I promised myself I’d be a better man, that I’d prioritize the right things even if it was too late. I honor his memory as I could not honor him.”
Edwin turned onto the quiet residential street adjacent to his own, cruising past houses he’d seen every day for years. How dull his life must seem to someone looking in from outside.
He tightened his grip on the wheel, knuckles paling. “I was such a fucking hotshot back then; this know-it-all trying to charm the world and soak up its admiration. Howard was afraid of losing me, and we both ran wild. Then he was gone, and I’d never given him the devotion he deserved.”
That was bad enough, but he choked on what remained unsaid. Edwin shook his head, warding away tears. Inhaling deeply, he caught Forrest’s scent again. Its immediacy banished the past, at least for the moment.
Edwin turned onto his street. He’d almost made it, and it would be easier to control himself without Forrest’s warm body beside his.
“There.” Edwin pointed, grateful to change the subject. “That’s my house, the wacky 1920s bungalow. Ha. I like classics, can you tell?”
If Forrest judged Edwin for what he’d said, it didn’t show. He smiled like there were no troubles in the world. “You’re a classic.”
Forrest patted his shoulder and then followed Edwin out of the car. “Seen this house before. Well kept.”
Edwin retrieved Francesca and followed Forrest onto the porch, mulling over being called a classic. From another, it might have been a jab at his age, but Edwin thought of Forrest’s love of his classic Mustang, his admiration of the Golden Hawk, and he glowed inside. Classic wasn’t a dirty word coming from Forrest. Even if he wasn’t a history buff, he appreciated the glories of generations past.
Edwin set Francesca on the wicker chair closest to the door, then pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked it. He gestured to Forrest to precede them, but Francesca darted between Forrest’s feet and into the house.
Both men laughed, and Edwin followed Forrest indoors. “She’s happy to be home. Nice as the shop is, I have comfier chairs for her to scratch to ribbons.”
Edwin locked the door behind them and herded the younger man past several bookshelves and stacks of reference tomes. Student papers, his research, and academic journals lay heaped in messy piles.
Pointing at one, Edwin chuckled. “Francesca likes to pounce on those. She’s ‘helping.’”
Then he pointed at a doorway at the other end of the living area, very aware of how close beside Forrest he’d stopped. For once, he was grateful to be forty-two and no longer easily aroused. It was exciting enough being alone in his house with a sexy man after so long; he could do without the dubious thrill of concealing an inappropriate erection. “Dining nook and kitchen are through there, but I think the weather’s nice enough to eat on the deck. We can admire my jumble of a garden while we eat. Frannie likes the excuse to chase moths.”
Forrest bit his lip as he looked around the house. It was difficult to tell if he was horrified or trying not to laugh. “Sounds good.”
He trailed Edwin to the kitchen and loomed in the doorway. “It was real nice what you said to Amber. She gets a lot of shit at school from people who find out.”
Forrest rubbed his forehead. “She’s got it hard. Parents don’t support her, think she’s putting on airs. She’s a good kid. Think she’s gonna be my sister’s bestie. They’re gonna go shoe shopping or something this weekend.”
As he listened, Edwin gathered ingredients and implements from cabinets and refrigerator. It was nice looking over to see his friend standing there—nice to be cooking for another person again. He’d always been the cook growing up. The one member of his wild, nomadic household who made grocery lists and worried about clean dishes.
Living with Howard, he’d felt almost like a wife, tending to laundry and shopping, making their meals while Howard worked late. It had satisfied a yearning for security and traditional family that Edwin thought he’d never have because he was gay. In the end, being gay didn’t keep him from it. He lost that chance at domesticity because the person who gave it to him had died young.
Looking sidelong at Forrest, Edwin laid strips of turkey bacon across the hot bottom of a cast-iron skillet. He granted himself one moment to imagine a world where Forrest lived with him, where Forrest was his to worry about and whisper to until those stunning blue eyes closed in sleep. When he couldn’t hide the longing, he returned his gaze to the sizzling meat, carefully arranging the strips for maximum crunchiness.
The bacon grease cooked off, pooling at the center of the skillet. He cracked yard eggs into the sizzling goodness and ground pink peppercorns and sea salt over the top to embed the seasoning in the thickening yolks.
H
is stomach rumbled, making him laugh and chance a look back at Forrest. “So Jenna’s parents don’t appreciate how clever she is, eh? Can’t say I’m surprised. Mine didn’t either. Part of why we don’t talk. They also think I’m too big for my britches. It is sweet she’s spending time with Susie. Makes it easier for them to take care of you too, I imagine, working as a team.”
The last he said carefully, as stripped of wistfulness and jealousy as possible.
“Ha, take care of me? I don’t think that’s Amber’s aim. Well, maybe. I dunno. I think she just likes being somewhere she’s not judged, y’know?” Forrest stepped behind Edwin and peered over his shoulder. “Smells good.”
Forrest hovered oppressively close. His scent mingled with the bacon, and the radiant heat of his body drove Edwin to distraction. It took all his willpower not to melt against that solid frame and tip his head back for a kiss.
Taking a deep breath, he reached for the spatula and flipped the bacon. “Sunny-side up or over easy? I like mine messy.”
“Messy’s good.” Forrest leaned in as if to kiss Edwin, then backed off. “Mind if I help myself to a beer?”
“I…” Edwin’s face burned. He swayed, arresting the woozy stumble by grabbing the counter. He dropped the pepper mill with a clatter that made him jump. He used the excuse of picking it up to stare at the floor instead of Forrest when he spoke again. “Of course. Anything you’d like. Help yourself.”
Recovering his wits, he set the mill back on the counter and pulled out a pair of kitschy, 1970s-style plates he’d picked up at a flea market. Not bothering to be careful of the yolks, he slipped fried eggs and bacon onto each of their plates. He cut open leftover buttermilk biscuits from the morning’s baking and reheated them in the leftover bacon grease until they browned, and then placed them atop the rest. Only then did he look over at Forrest.
“Grab me a beer too, will you? I’ll carry these out.” Without waiting for a reply, Edwin slipped past Forrest and out the back door onto the covered deck.
A small table to one side boasted a beautiful view of the back garden. Its two all-weather chairs awaited occupation. Edwin set one plate in front of each, then turned to go back inside for the silverware. He ran straight into Forrest. They collided hard enough for Edwin to lose his breath.
Forrest caught Edwin in his arms, letting him steady before gently releasing him.
It probably wasn’t just the force of the impact making it so hard to breathe.
“Sorry.” Edwin couldn’t meet Forrest’s eyes. He gestured at the kitchen. “Forks.”
A wrinkle formed between Forrest’s brows as he stared into Edwin’s face. “You’re pale. Let’s sit you down.”
“I’m fine. I’m just not accustomed to company. I suppose it’s too much to hope it doesn’t show?” Edwin rushed to sit before Forrest could manhandle him into the chair.
Though Edwin wouldn’t mind the manhandling, he’d feel guilty about lustfully enjoying Forrest’s innocent help. The reason their friendship worked was that Forrest allowed Edwin to indulge in this closeness. It was Edwin’s duty not to wreck it by moaning at an inopportune moment. That said, Forrest did seem to crowd Edwin at times. He didn’t seem to get that close to Jenna.
Better not to think about that.
Waving Forrest into the kitchen, Edwin tried to focus. The night air was cool for Texas. Crickets chirped softly out in the grass. It was pleasant, almost like being in the country.
Despite the peaceful setting, Edwin was a wreck. He was beginning to feel like shades of Gustav von Aschenbach from Death in Venice: some repressed old fellow seduced by the sensual beauty of a godlike boy.
At least, he consoled himself, he wasn’t quite as crazy.
Yet.
“Forrest?” Edwin raised his voice to be heard from the kitchen. “Will you let Francesca know dinner is served alfresco this evening?”
“Dinner is in Frisco, Francesca!” Forrest called cheerily. His footfalls were heavy on the deck. “Is that what you call the deck? Frisco? Like San Francisco?” Forrest handed the flatware to Edwin and dropped into the chair next to him. “I’m starved.”
Edwin suppressed a laugh and the urge to kiss Forrest for being so adorable. He beamed and arranged their flatware as Francesca strolled onto the deck and hopped into Edwin’s lap. “Dig in! And ah…alfresco means in the fresh air, but I like your version better.” Edwin broke bacon into pieces and fed Francesca a bite. She purred as she nibbled it from his fingertips. “I haven’t gone anywhere in so long. I miss traveling, but Frannie doesn’t handle it well. Do you ever take trips?”
Forrest shook his head and dug into his eggs. Though the light was waning, there was still enough to see how red Forrest’s face was. He avoided Edwin’s gaze while he chewed. After he finished, he picked up a piece of bacon. “Not to California, anyway. I’ve been to New Orleans. Drove there. We went to Florida when I was little but don’t remember it much. You travel?”
Edwin refrained from pointing out he’d just said he hadn’t traveled in a long time; Forrest looked abashed enough. He didn’t understand why Forrest blushed so often around him, but he found it enchanting. It made him feel less awkward about his own frequent discombobulation in the mechanic’s presence. “I’ve never been to New Orleans. I always wanted to go. Howard promised he’d take me, but we never got the chance. There were a lot of places we thought we’d go someday.” Edwin shrugged and gave a wry chuckle. “I travel in my books, in watching the news, listening to guest lecturers from all over the world. Some of my colleagues travel all summer. Go on wonderful research trips. I’m a hermit. I get teased.”
Francesca finished the bacon and nibbled Edwin’s fingers as notice she was ready for more. He ate a few bites of egg before complying, conscious of her displeasure at the wait via her claws kneading his leg through his tweed trousers.
“Oh. What kinda trips do they go on? Digs and stuff? Are you like Indiana Jones? You had that fedora and all.” Forrest’s lips quirked into a smile before he returned to gobbling his dinner.
He must’ve been very hungry. Edwin couldn’t remember seeing him eat so fast.
“No, I wish.” Edwin laughed. “I’m no Indiana Jones. When I was young, I thought I might go down that path, but life didn’t quite work out. No fascinating field archaeology for me.”
It seemed like Forrest didn’t grasp what a loser Edwin was. On one hand, it was very flattering. On the other, it worried Edwin that he might disappoint the younger man when he finally realized how pitiful Edwin’s life was.
He reached over to touch Forrest’s hand, claiming his attention and steadying himself. “Forrest, I’m very dull. I don’t go anywhere, ever. I don’t go to amusement parks or the county fair. I don’t go to the movies or out to dinner. I definitely don’t go to foreign countries for grand adventures. I’m here, every night, with my dead lover’s cat. I expect I will continue doing that. You’re the first guest we’ve had.”
Forrest frowned. The look in his eyes was inscrutable. “You’re still a hotshot, you know. You could probably get any guy you wanted. Why would you invite some idiot like me?”
Edwin could hardly believe his ears, but unbelievable or not, the words made him grin so hard his eyes crinkled. He tightened his hand on Forrest’s, squeezing it gratefully. “Because of that. Because you believe I’m special somehow, not just some strange old queer with an unhealthy, codependent relationship to his cat. And you’re hardly an idiot, Forrest. I’d hate to make you uncomfortable, but surely you’ve noticed that you’re an extraordinary man.”
Edwin stared at Forrest’s hand, so large and strong under his spindly one. He had hands meant for turning pages and soothing a fussy cat. Forrest’s were meant for greater things. He wished he had the right to kiss those thick fingers, to suck one into his mouth to feel its weight against his tongue.
Drawing a sharp breath, Edwin stared out at the garden instead and released Forrest’s hand to stroke Francesca and escape temptation. When he
failed to resume feeding Francesca, she put her front paws on the table and stuck her face in his food.
Edwin barely noticed; it wasn’t food for which he hungered now.
Forrest cleared his throat. “If I’m anything at all, it’s ’cause of my sister. You may think I’m some tough guy, but after the mess with my stepdad, and my real dad died…Susie really did come in and save my bacon.”
Francesca perked up; her eyes widened at Forrest.
“You’re getting plenty of bacon over there, silly cat!” He laughed and shook his head. “Anyhow, Susie is the amazing one. You think you’re a sad sack; I hardly ever go out, man. I have friends who drift in and out, but if it weren’t for Susie, there wouldn’t even be that. I’d probably be managing a Jiffy Lube if I was lucky.”
Forrest’s humility spoke to Edwin’s heart. The younger man was so sincere, full of sorrow that, while less pronounced than Edwin’s, was no less profound. He wanted to hug him, but the closest he’d ever come to holding Forrest was running into him in the doorway.
When he thought about it, Edwin could still feel those arms around him, steadying him. He shivered.
Seconds ticked past in silence. Edwin opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he uncapped his beer and took a long swig. Only then did he manage to say, “So you really don’t date? You just have your friendly arrangements?”
It wasn’t the right thing to say, but none of his other thoughts even bordered on appropriate.
Forrest nodded and glugged his beer. “The bar scene just ain’t me. Most of the people I meet are through the garage, and as you can imagine, the pickings are kinda slim.”
He rubbed the beer bottle against his forehead, as if even the thought was giving him a fever. Then he smiled with a strange coyness. “But every so often, I get lucky and meet someone worthwhile.”
Edwin huffed, thinking about Jenna. He looked away so his jealousy wouldn’t show, stroking Francesca’s back and letting her silky fur soothe him. Francesca had polished off most of his food. She left only his biscuit. Snorting, Edwin rescued it from the edge of his plate and took a bite so he wouldn’t have to talk.
