by Hamel, B. B.
She looks skeptical. “You can’t just open a museum.”
“It’ll be modern,” I say. “We won’t have many great classics, but like I said, I’ve been collecting for a while. I think we’ll have a pretty good foundation for a modern art museum, plus two extra galleries for rotating shows. Or at least that’s the plan right now, we might do a third gallery.”
She stares at me silently for a second before shaking her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“You know that running a museum is my dream. And you’re just telling me this now, in the middle of a conversation about me leaving?”
I grin at her. “Come with me.”
She sighs as I stand up. “Where?”
“Come on,” I say. “It’s just in my office.”
She hesitates but finally she follows. I take her into my office and I pull out the blueprints that I had drafted up two months before she came back to town.
She goes through them slowly, and I make sure she notes the dates. She still seems skeptical, but as I show her photographs of my collection, marketing materials I’ve been building, and even potential sites, she slowly comes around.
“This is amazing,” she says. “But why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Honestly?” I ask. “I wasn’t thinking about it.”
She gapes. “You’re kidding.”
I laugh a little. “Nope, I’m really not. The plans kind of stalled out at the beginning of the summer when my architect quit on me, so I’ve been lazy about finding a new one.”
“Why’d he quit?”
I shrug. “His wife got a job in Germany, so they moved.”
“Huh.” She looks back down at the blueprint. “You should keep going. Find a new architect.”
“I will,” I say. “But I need more than an architect.”
She looks up at me, and I can see the pain in her expression. My smile slowly fades away.
“Don’t ask,” she says softly.
“Okay,” I say, standing up and crossing my arms. “I won’t ask. But the offer will still be there.”
She turns away. “I should get back to work.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I watch as she leaves my office. I hate that she’s so conflicted, but I don’t feel bad for trying. I had to offer, had to at least tell her about this. Otherwise, I’d never forgive myself.
I don’t know if she’ll come around. Maybe she never will and I’ll have to find someone else to run my museum. Which is fine, because this museum is going to be built, and it’s going to bring some fucking culture to this barren wasteland.
But if she’d stay… she can make so much happen, and we can give her the means. If only she could see beyond her prejudices, beyond her hate for this town, and see the dream we all have for this place.
19
London
I fill my days with the guys, and they make me feel better than I ever have in my life.
It’s strange. I never thought I could even possibly have a relationship like this, let alone have it in Leadwood. But it’s like we’re in our own little world and nobody bothers us. The guys take turns staying over, sometimes a few of them at a time. Once all fived crashed in my apartment, although only three of us can fit in my bed at any given time. That was one intense and fun night, though.
My parents worry about me, but I visit them every day, and try to explain it. I don’t go into detail about my arrangement with the guys, or what we’re getting up to, but I do have to somehow explain the apartment.
“They’re just helping me out,” I say to my father over lunch a few days after I leave their house. “They had an extra apartment and offered it to me.”
He frowns at that. “Just an extra apartment, lying around?”
“Ryan owns the building,” I say, smiling. “Nobody was renting it, and he knows I’m leaving at the end of the summer anyway, so he’s helping me out.”
Dad sighs. “Did you really need to get away from us that badly?”
“Dad,” I say softly, smiling. “You’ve done a lot for me, but I’m growing up, you know?”
“I know.” He smiles back. “Just sucks.”
“I know it does. But don’t worry. My new job pays well, it’s great experience, and my apartment is safe. I’m in a good place.”
“I hope so.” He smiles and he doesn’t bring it up again, but I can tell that it still bothers him.
Work goes great. At first, I feel a little lost, trying to run social media for a steel fabrication company, but I quickly get the hang of it. I even manage to get a couple tweets to go viral, or at least as viral as a local steel fabrication company’s Twitter possibly can. James seems happy with my work, which is pretty much all I need.
Henry doesn’t bring up the museum again, and I drop the subject, although I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t help but think that it’s just his way of trying to convince me to stay, and is that really so bad? I mean, the museum is clearly real, and I think they have more plans to improve Leadwood, even if Leadwood doesn’t want to improve. I hear James talking about it sometimes with the other guys, just chatting idly about possible plans and things they can do to bring more commerce and culture to the area. I love their idealism and their hard work, and I do think a lot of it is paying off already. The twins are opening a new restaurant in town, and Ryan’s trying to get approval to build a public park right near the town center on a tract of unused land he bought up a few years ago. Basically, they’re dragging Leadwood into the world, kicking and screaming.
And there is some screaming. Despite trying to keep me sheltered from the rest of the town, I still hear the murmurs and the mumbling from the shop floor workers. There are whispers that my five guys are trying to buy up the town and turn it into some fancy resort. They’re trying to destroy everyone’s way of life, make taxes too high, that sort of thing. There are also other rumors, about me specifically, but I try not to worry about that.
A month passes like this. Ryan starts construction on the top floor of the apartment building out of nowhere, which surprises me. I basically can get from the elevator to my apartment, but I can’t go anywhere else. I don’t know what happened to the other people on my floor. I heard they got bought out at absurd prices and relocated to different apartments on lower floors, which I don’t really understand. I asked Ryan about it once, but he just smiled and shook his head.
Summer moves faster than I want it to, like everything good. Suddenly I have only four weeks left in Leadwood, four weeks left with my guys and in my apartment, and I can already feel that thing inside of me stirring, fighting against the future. I can feel the image of my future self starting to shift and warp in ways I never thought it possibly could.
“What’s with the bad mood?” James asks me one evening, a few days into that first week.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” I say, obviously lying.
We just finished dinner, a meal James cooked himself. Ryan’s lounging on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV, barely paying attention to anything.
“Liar,” James says. “Hey, Ryan, you notice her bad mood?”
Ryan looks over. “Yep,” he says. “Like her dog just died or something.”
I shoot him a look. “I’ll throw you out.”
“I’ll throw you out,” he counters, grinning.
I roll my eyes and look back at James, who just shrugs, grinning.
“You might as well tell us what’s up,” James says. “I mean, we have ways of getting it out of you.”
“I know what those ways are,” I say. “And that won’t work tonight.”
James grins, glancing over at Ryan. “I suspect that’s not true,” he says.
I sigh. “Okay, fine. I was just thinking about the end of the summer, okay? It’s coming up. I need to start planning my move.”
James goes still, a slight frown on his face. I can tell Ryan’s paying closer attention now.
“Ye
ah, you do,” James says slowly. “We can help, if you want.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I answer. I’d hate to have them help me pack, I think that would be even more painful. Especially considering I know they don’t want me to go, not even a little bit.
But of course they’d be willing to help. That’s just the kind of guys they are, and that makes it even harder. Everything about them makes it harder.
James rolls his eyes. “Come on, let us help.”
“Or at least let us hire people to help,” Ryan says.
I laugh at that. “Typical. Throw money at the problem.”
“Hey, I’m an artist, money doesn’t matter to me,” Ryan says.
“Only a guy as rich as you could say that with a straight face,” James retorts, making us all laugh.
This moment is something I’ve found is the most surprising part of this little setup we have. When we first began, I thought this whole relationship would be weird and basically all about sex, but I was totally wrong. As time goes on, I’m finding that the little things become more important. It’s the comfort we have around each other, the laughter, the happiness, and of course the mind-blowing sex is great. But if it were just sex, I don’t think I’d be feeling the way I do right now.
It’s a desire for this to become my new normal. It already feels normal, which is so strange. I thought it would always stay weird, but it’s just not. I feel like these guys have always been a part of my life, and they always will be. I guess that’s what happens when you spend so much time around a group of people that knows each other so well, you get sucked into their dynamic. But I actually like getting involved. I like being sucked in.
I can’t help but want more and more and more of it. Even sex aside, I just want to be around these guys.
“Well, we need to cheer you up,” James says. He puts some of the dishes into the dishwasher, straightening up the kitchen as he goes.
I pour myself some wine and a glass of whisky for the boys, which they accept gratefully. “What do you propose?” I ask him.
He pauses a second, plate in hand. “Truth or Dare?”
I laugh at that as he puts the dish away and shuts the dishwasher. He straightens up and I notice Ryan paying more attention.
“What, are we fifteen or something?” I ask him. “Maybe we can play Spin the Bottle after.”
“Not a bad idea,” Ryan calls out.
I roll my eyes at him. “Come on. Truth or Dare? We don’t need that.”
“It’ll be fun. Or are you afraid?” James smirks at me.
I sigh. “Fine. I’ll play.” I walk out into the living room and sit down on the couch, curling up next to Ryan. He sips his whisky and grins at me. James joins us next, sitting in the chair at the end of the couch.
“Okay then,” James says. “I’ll start. London, truth or dare?”
“Of course you start with me.” I sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “Truth.”
“Lame,” Ryan says, but James purses his lips a bit thoughtfully.
“Okay,” he says slowly. “Which of us do you like the best? Out of all five.”
I stare at him and Ryan perks up, grinning huge. “Really fucked up question, man,” he says. “I love it.”
“I can’t answer that,” I say.
“Then you forfeit, and you’ll take a penalty.” James has a wicked gleam in his eye and I can only imagine what the penalty is going to be.
“No, I mean, I can’t answer because I don’t know.”
That’s the truth, and I can tell the guys are disappointed.
“There’s no way you like us all equally,” Ryan says. “Well, except the twins, I guess.”
James laughs. “They’re not exactly the same. You’ve seen that, right?”
“Of course,” I say. “But it’s the truth. I like all of you equally. It’s… weird.”
“Yeah,” Ryan says. “It is weird, but I also don’t believe you.”
“How can I prove it to you?”
He shrugs a little, glancing back at James.
But James isn’t really smiling. He’s watching me closely, and it surprises me for a second, how deep his scrutiny is. Finally, he nods slowly.
“I believe her,” he says.
Ryan laughs, not sure if he’s kidding. “For real?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I do. I don’t know why, but I don’t think she’s lying.”
“I’m really not,” I say simply. “It’s strange, but I don’t think of you guys only as individuals. I mean, of course you’re all important individually, but it’s the whole group that makes it all… special.”
Both of the guys watch me. Finally, Ryan sighs. “Well, fuck me,” he says. “I believe you now.”
I grin at him and hit his arm. “Okay, dickhead. Truth or dare?”
His grin returns. “Dare.”
“I dare you to kiss James.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” I say. “You guys are always so careful not to touch while we have sex.”
“We’re not gay,” Ryan says simply. “But I’m also not afraid to kiss a man. It’s not a big deal.”
“Come here then, big boy.” James grins and Ryan gets up and kisses him on the lips.
“Oh, come on!” I say. “That was so chaste!”
“You didn’t specify,” Ryan says, laughing.
“Good kisser,” James adds. “But I could’ve used some tongue.”
“Oh, fuck you, man,” Ryan says, laughing, and I can’t help but join him. James is grinning and pretends to try to pull Ryan in for some more, but Ryan punches his arm and pushes him away.
He sits back down next to me, a grin on his face. “Okay, James, your turn. Truth or dare?”
“Truth,” James says instantly.
Ryan watches him for a second. I’m still smiling from the silliness of the dare before, so I don’t exact him to say what he says next. It catches me completely off guard, and practically pierces my heart.
“Would you do anything to keep London from leaving us?” Ryan asks him.
I stare, shocked, and the laughter dies on my lips. Ryan isn’t smiling, and neither is James. Both of them slowly look at me, and I feel suddenly trapped.
“Yes,” James says, softly at first. “I’d do anything to keep her. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Ryan says.
“Ryan, truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Would you do anything to keep London?”
“Anything,” Ryan says.
I watch them go through this, not sure what to do. I feel that thing inside of me again, rearing its head, growing bright and strong and almost impossibly overwhelming. I don’t know what to do, so I quickly stand up, not sure how to quiet this feeling.
“That’s not fair,” I say to them, not sure why I’m saying it. I feel irrational and crazy, but I guess that’s what love makes you feel sometimes. “It’s just not fair.”
“None of this is fair,” James says, a sad smile on his lips.
“But it’s true for all of us,” Ryan adds. “We want to make this town better… but we want it even more if you’re around.”
I stare at them, openmouthed. “You can’t guilt me into staying.”
“We’re not.” Ryan stands, but I back away from him.
“Stop,” I say. “I can’t do this. Okay? I just can’t do this.”
“London,” he says.
James watches, not saying a word, as I back away into the kitchen. I grab my wine and drink it down without really thinking.
How can they say this to me? Don’t they know how badly this hurts? They know I don’t want to leave, but I never asked for any of this. I never asked to get tangled up in this fucking crazy five-way lover situation we’re in, and I never wanted to fall for each and every one of them. That’s the growing, bright light deep in my chest: it’s love, for all five of them. I’ve been denying it since the start, pretending like it’s not growing, but n
ow I can’t pretend anymore. It’s flaring, burning inside me, bright as a spotlight, hot enough to melt steel beams.
“I want you both to go,” I say quietly.
“London, come on,” Ryan says, but James stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Come on,” he says, steering Ryan away.
“Fucking hell, man,” Ryan says. “She wants to stay. I know she does.”
“I know,” James says, “but she has to make that decision on her own. We can’t pressure her or force her to do something she isn’t sure she wants to do.”
Ryan looks away from him, ashamed, but James just smiles and squeezes his shoulder.
I watch this, absolutely astonished. James smiles over at me.
“Sorry, London,” he says. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”
I want to tell him to wait. I want to tell him that Ryan’s right, I want to stay, that I love each and every one of them in a way that I would have thought was impossible before, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I watch them leave the apartment, and I’m alone for the night for the first time since moving in here.
I hate it. I hate the quiet. I sit down on the couch, legs curled underneath me, another glass of wine in my hand. I’m angry at them for doing that, for guilting me for following my dream.
But most of all, I’m angry that I want to give up my dream for them.
Moving to New York and taking that internship feels like the culmination of my whole live. I’ve worked hard to get in this position, to be able to leave Leadwood for good and to join the wider world as an actualized, worthwhile individual. Instead, I’m sitting here thinking about how I can justify staying in Leadwood with my five mountain daddies to take care of me.
It’s insane. I never pictured myself as the kind of girl to let a bunch of older men take care of her. I always thought spoiled, bratty girls did that. I’m normal, nothing special, and yet here I am, thinking about this totally insane thing, and hating myself just a little bit for it.
But even hating myself feels wrong. Because it’s not bad to love. That’s the best thing in the world, to love someone, and even better to love five men that love you back. It’s a special gift, that sort of thing some people never get to taste, and here I am willing to throw it away.
