by Sarina Bowen
We talk about this a lot, actually. Sometimes I just want to shut the whole place down. But the weird thing is there are people there who would be miserable if the Compound was broken up. They like it there, and they want things to stay the same.
This letter got very long. But I just wanted you to know that we’re doing well. I like it here. I still need to figure out what I’m doing with my life, but Maggie says there are lots of guys my age in that situation.
We hope you’re doing well, and we think of you often.
* * *
Your friend,
Josh Royce
* * *
P.S. Here is a picture of Caleb and me with my favorite cow, Lady.
Eighteen
February 3rd
Dear Josh & Caleb,
Good to hear from you! I showed my wife your picture, and she said you two were as cute as a button.
We both liked hearing about your sneaky package to Wyoming, too. I think it will work. Because what man is going to look too closely at a package of embroidering crap? You people are geniuses. You should work for the CIA.
I’m still driving that same route from Nevada to Albany. So if you ever get word that one of yours is stranded in Cheyenne again, call me. You never know. I might be nearby.
The wife and I are planning a little vacation to Florida next month. We are flying on a plane, because I tell her that driving is the last thing I want to do on vacation. If you’re ever down toward Kentucky where we are, call us. It’d be fun to see you.
All my best,
Washington
Nineteen
Summer
“Well…” Maggie said, turning slowly in a circle so that she could see each dingy wall of the little dumpy apartment. “A coat of paint would go a long way. The floors aren’t bad. They look original.”
I could read on her face, though, that she did not approve of the tiny little hovel in downtown Pittsfield that we’d brought her to see.
At this point, I was finding it hard to stay positive about our search for a new home. There were so few apartments for rent in our quiet region of Massachusetts. And when you factored in the budget that Caleb and I needed to stick to, the choices got squalid in a hurry.
“The kitchen is the worst part,” Caleb admitted. “That stove looks a hundred years old.”
Maggie cleared her throat, and I could feel her reaching for something positive to say. “A stove is a pretty simple machine. So that doesn’t bother me so much. But this place is just so small. One tiny bedroom, and there’s not even a closet. I suppose you could ask Daniel to make you a set of bunk beds instead of twin beds. Just like college kids have.”
At this point, my shoes became suddenly fascinating. Because the size of the bedroom was not, of course, a problem for Caleb and I. We wanted to move out of Maggie’s house so that we could frequently inhabit a very compact portion of our bed.
But of course I couldn’t say that.
Maggie didn’t notice my discomfort, though. Because she had more issues with the apartment than the bedroom. Thank the Lord.
“Then there’s that bathroom. I’ve never seen a smaller shower stall. I just don’t see how two men could live here and not kill each other. Why don’t you just save up some more money, and try again in six months?”
Again, the truth was not a good option. We need to have a lot of very loud sex.
“We, uh…” Caleb started. “We can’t lean on you guys forever. I thought that crappy first apartments were a rite of passage, anyway. That’s what the guys at the garage tell me.”
Maggie paced in a circle. (A very small circle. Because she wasn’t wrong about the size of this tiny, dark, run-down place.) “Can I take you two out for coffee before you make your decision? I need to run something by you, anyway.”
“All right,” I said, heading for the door. I’d been excited to move out until we showed her the space. Truthfully, I couldn’t picture Caleb and I here, either. What was I supposed to do all day? Caleb was still in the market for a used car, which he could drive to work at the garage. But that meant I’d be stuck in this neighborhood alone. Whatever job I found would have to be in walking distance.
Downtown, Pittsfield, Massachusetts was not a bustling commercial district. Finding a job would not be easy. As we walked into the dark-paneled coffee shop, I evaluated it as a potential employer. Would they need an inexperienced, slightly quiet, secret queer at the cash register?
Probably not.
Maggie ordered a latte and Caleb ordered plain coffee, black.
“I’m fine,” I said when it was my turn. As the non-wage-earner among us, I didn’t want them to pay for an overpriced coffee for me.
“He wants a chocolate chip cookie,” Maggie said to the cashier, taking out her wallet.
“But…”
She held up a hand to silence me. “I’m celebrating something, okay? Don’t kill my buzz. In fact,” she said to the cashier, “add one more coffee, and a second cookie.”
When our order was ready, we sat around one of the little tables together. Maggie broke off a piece of cookie and pushed the plate toward Caleb and I. “Guys, I have to run something by both of you. Hear me out, okay?”
I nodded, taking a chunk of cookie off the plate. I chased it with a sip of hot coffee, and the combination was, to be fair, exquisite.
“Cecilia has made me an offer that I’m having trouble refusing.”
“What’s that?” I asked. Cecilia was her caterer friend.
“She wants Cecilia’s Catering to become Cecilia & Maggie’s Catering.”
Caleb grinned. “That’s kind of a long title,” he said. “I don’t know if it will all fit on the side of the van.”
I reached over and gave Caleb a playful shove on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to him, Maggie. I think that’s great. She wants you to be her partner?”
She beamed. “Yes! There will be more hours, but not too many more. And the pay will be so much better. But that’s where you come in, Josh. I’ll need more babysitting. And now I can actually pay you, because you’re legal.”
“Wow. Okay.” Could Maggie solve my employment problem? Just like that? “But…” I swallowed another cup of coffee. “I’ll have to commute to you if we’re living in Pittsfield.” And that meant a second car, which we couldn’t afford.
She folded her hands together and looked and Caleb and I in turn. “See, that’s the thing. I have a better idea. Have either of you seen the space above the workshop?”
“Sure,” Caleb shrugged. “I went up there once to bring some tarps down for Daniel.”
“Well, it’s a big space. Daniel and I once talked about finishing it, but we haven’t had the time. If you guys did a lot of the labor, then you could live up there for free.”
“You’d still be supporting us,” I argued.
Maggie shook her head. “You could pay the utilities, and you’d have your own kitchen. But refinishing a space is a lot of work. And someday, if you did move out, we’d be left with a finished apartment instead of an empty room. That adds value to our property.”
“The materials will cost money, though,” Caleb argued. “I suppose I could pay for them out of the rent deposit I’ve saved up. There’s a lot of stuff to buy. Plumbing supplies. Flooring…”
“Daniel and I should pay for everything that’s part of the building, since it stays there if you leave,” Maggie pointed out. “But you’ll need furnishings. Will you please consider it? Let’s look at the space tonight. It would be so much easier to say yes to Cecilia on the partnership if I knew I had a babysitter on the property.”
I eyed Caleb, trying not to feel too hopeful. Our own little place, yet still on the farm? Could we do that? Would it even work?
“I think…” Caleb snuck a glance at me, and then looked Maggie in the eye. “That just might work. If Daniel likes the idea, too.”
Maggie tossed her head back and smiled at the ceiling. “Thank you for considering it. Because I reall
y don’t want you guys to move far away. And if you end up in that dump we just saw, I fear you’ll be looking at jobs in some other state before you know it.”
“Another state?” I yelped. “Nobody said that was on the table. I don’t want to move away from you if I don’t have to.”
Under the table, Caleb’s leg moved in close. He pressed his knee against mine, as if to tell me that he understood. “We’ll see what Daniel thinks,” he said.
* * *
That evening, after the milking, and after dinner, we all went out to clomp around the empty, dusty space over Daniel’s workshop.
“Well,” Daniel said appraisingly. “There’s enough space up here, and the entrance is already separate. So that’s something.” He walked slowly around, carrying Chloe on his hip, studying the shape of the room. The roof was pitched in one direction, which meant that one end of the big space had a ridiculously high ceiling, which sloped down gradually toward the other end of the room.
Maggie spoke up next. “The way the windows are set, it makes the most sense to put the bedrooms at this end,” she pointed to the shorter wall, “and the kitchen on that wall.” She paced back into the center. “That doesn’t leave much of a living room, but you could put a couch on the wall facing the kitchen.”
Caleb cleared his throat. “I think the whole thing might work better if it was left as one open room. Maybe with a loft at the tall end.”
“Oh!” Maggie whispered. “Good idea! That would look cool. There could be one bed up on the loft, and the other one underneath. Actually, the downstairs bed could be a futon. During the day, it could be your couch. But then one of you would have to make it up as a bed every night.”
This time, when the subject of bedrooms came up, I hid my flaming face by staring out the window.
“Great point,” Daniel said. “And this way, we wouldn’t have to muck around with dropped ceilings. Except for in the bathroom, which I think you’d want to put in that corner.” He pointed. “The workshop sink is on that same wall, which will keep the plumbing costs low.”
“That’s important,” I said, happy that we weren’t talking about bedrooms anymore.
“The bathroom and kitchen are the expensive parts,” Caleb said. “Wall board is cheap.”
“Yeah,” Daniel agreed. “But I know a plumber we could hire to help us get through the tricky bits. This could be a fun project, as long as you feel you have the time.”
“I can’t wait to get started,” I said, truthfully. But then I remembered that it really didn’t matter what I thought. Because it wasn’t me who was going to do most of this work. I was happy to sand the floors or paint the walls. But when it came to installing a toilet, I didn’t have a clue.
Caleb rubbed his hands together. “This could be great. I just hope you really don’t mind having tenants. I figure you’ll want your house back to normal someday, and a renovation will take some time. And when we do leave, you still won’t really be rid of us.”
“But I don’t want to be rid of you,” Maggie said immediately. “You and Josh and Daniel and Chloe are my family. I’m trying to keep you close, not send you away.”
“Well…” Caleb put a hand on the back of his neck, and looked at Daniel. “If you’re all on board with it…”
Daniel switched Chloe from one hip to the other, and gave us both a quiet smile. “If you think there’s enough privacy here, then don’t think twice. Stay.”
It was weird that he’d mention privacy. But I didn’t dwell on it. I was too busy feeling happy. I wanted to move in here, and live within a two minute walk of Chloe and my adoptive family. And even the cows. I just hoped Caleb was as happy about it as I was.
Twenty
DEAR WASHINGTON,
THANK YOU for the Halloween candy! You’re right — we’ve never had any before. At the Compound, Halloween was considered a pagan ritual.
Caleb and I are busy converting the big room over Daniel’s workshop into an apartment. It’s a ton of work, but it will be nice when it’s done. Daniel bought the fixtures, and Caleb and I are doing the work for free. (Caleb’s labor is a lot more valuable than mine, but I’m pretty handy with the power sander these days.)
In other news, I now have a driver’s license. Caleb taught me to drive, finally, using Maggie’s car. Soon, Caleb is going to buy a used car. He says he’s waiting for just the right one to turn up.
We are becoming more independent, but it’s taking forever.
My love to Brenda,
* * *
Josh
Twenty-One
Autumn
The apartment was almost ready. There was running water now — but only in the bathroom.
It was a Monday night, which meant that Caleb and I had been working on our renovation for ten hours. Monday was still Caleb’s day off. And it wasn’t a big catering day, either, so he and I always got a lot of renovation work done on Mondays.
The kitchen cabinets were in already, and the floor had been insulated from below. “You can’t have an apartment over a workshop without good insulation,” Daniel had said. “You’d hear power tools all day long.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” I’d argued.
“We’re going to do this right,” Daniel had insisted, “because I don’t want to redo it someday.” He paid a man to come and blow foam between the apartment’s floor and the workshop’s ceiling.
There weren’t too many other tasks we’d had to hire out, though. Daniel had built the kitchen cabinets, and Caleb and I were finishing them. As predicted, we’d needed some help with the plumbing, but it wasn’t too bad. Caleb did the heating himself. “If I can fix a car’s heater, I can put in baseboard units,” he’d said.
And he had.
For my part, there was endless sanding and painting. But it wasn’t fussy work, so I didn’t mind it. When I finished the day with sawdust in my hair, I felt like one of the guys. It was a nice contrast to all the nursery rhymes and fairy books that Chloe and I spent the week looking at together.
At almost one year old, Chloe could say a couple of words. She wasn’t a prolific talker, but she said “dada” and a variation with an “m” in it, which was supposed to be “mama,” but wasn’t quite. She said “more” and “bye-bye” and “no.” (She said that last one a lot.)
She did not, however, say “Josh.”
“I think the J sound is hard,” Maggie had said more than once. Every morning I spent a few minutes trying to get Chloe to say “Josh.” “You can do it,” I urged her. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, either. Say…Josh.”
“No,” she said instead.
“Fine,” I sighed, as Maggie laughed. “But if you end up saying ‘Caleb’ first, heads are gonna roll.”
Today I hadn’t seen Chloe since lunch, though, because Caleb and I had sanded the baseboards, and then I put a coat of primer on the wall.
Working on our place with Caleb was fun — so much more fun than working at the Compound had ever been. Because we were working on something for us. That was just amazing. I didn’t mind all the affection I received while we worked together, either. He touched my back when he asked me a question. And I got a nice kiss when we sat down in the middle of the bare floor for lunch.
Life was good. And now it was quitting time. “What color are we going to paint this wall, anyway?” I asked Caleb as I tapped the metal lid back onto the top of a can of primer.
“White, right?” he grunted.
“It doesn’t have to be,” I argued. “I like that yellow color in Maggie’s dining room. It makes the place look sunny.”
“Well…” Caleb chuckled. “If you want yellow, I got no problem with that. But you’re the one that doesn’t want to go public.” He took off his tool belt.
“Why? What are you saying?”
Caleb grinned at me. “I’m saying that gay guys paint their walls bright colors. At least on TV.”
“Really? Damn it.”
Caleb came up behind me and wrapped his arms
around my midsection. “I don’t think a couple of yellow walls would really be all that revealing. I was just kidding.”
I didn’t know what to say, though. Lately Caleb had been making noises about telling Daniel and Maggie. He said that if our plan was to live here forever, then it should be addressed. “Because if they can’t handle it, we ought to know that. So we can move on,” he reasoned.
But if I had my way? We weren’t ever having that conversation. Because I did not want to see Maggie’s expression when she learned the truth about Caleb and me. I was too addicted to seeing admiration on her face, and the simple joy I found there when she came home from a long day to find Chloe and me cuddling on the couch.
It was just too risky. Maybe that made me a coward, but that was just the way I felt.
“Hey, guys?” We heard Daniel’s feet on the stairs.
By silent, mutual agreement, Caleb moved away from me. He very casually picked up a broom in the corner of the room and leaned on it, as if he’d been there all along.
“Hey!” Daniel said, coming through our open door. “I’m heading inside for the night. Maggie said to tell you that she’s making pot roast, but she started late. So dinner isn’t until seven-thirty.”
“Sounds great,” Caleb said. “We’ll be in soon, anyway. I think we’ve had just about all we can take.”
“I’ll bet. The lights are off in the workshop, okay? Just let the door lock behind you on the way out.”
I gave Daniel a salute, and he disappeared down the stairs. A minute later, we heard the outside door slam as he went home for the night.
Silence descended on us, and I listened to it. This would soon be the sound of our nights here. Our new place was snug, and it really did feel quite private. Daniel never came back out to his workshop after dark, because he said daylight was imperative for doing quality joinery.
