Dreamspinner Press Year Eight Greatest Hits

by Brandon Witt

  And of all the men, he chose this one. A father of three. A man who was still mourning his dead wife. Wife! A man who was apparently recreating prom night with his dead wife.

  God, he was an idiot. What the hell was wrong with him? He deserved every bit of awful this date could dredge up.

  TRAVIS POINTED at his cheese-covered baked potato with his steak knife, then motioned with it over his shoulder. “Did you see the potato bar back there? They have about everything you could imagine on a baked potato.”

  Wesley started to simply nod but then realized it was the first thing Travis had said that didn’t somehow tie back to his dead wife. Better grasp for straws while he had the chance. “You know, I did. I’m kinda just a butter and sour cream guy.”

  Dead air. Again.

  Wesley twirled his fork inside his cheese-free baked potato. He deserved this. He did. He’d brought this torture on himself.

  He searched desperately for a way to get the conversation going. He glanced around the generically decorated chain restaurant.

  Old people.

  More old people.

  Then he saw it.

  “I noticed there was a soft-serve ice cream bar. It looked like it had nearly as many toppings as the baked potato bar.” Ice cream. Who didn’t enjoy talking about ice cream?

  Somewhere, Todd was fucking his little twink and laughing at the top of his lungs.

  Travis nodded his agreement. “You’re right. It’s pretty good. Plus you can choose vanilla, chocolate, or, if you pull the middle handle, it does them together in twist.”

  “Oh, that sounds good. I might have to give that a try.” Wesley fiddled with the button on the cuff of his olive green shirt. Apparently he didn’t enjoy talking about ice cream.

  Crickets. Wesley could have sworn he actually heard crickets. Couldn’t have been. It was November.

  “You know”—Travis didn’t look up at him from across the table, keeping focused on something that fascinated him about the fake candle between them—“when we came here for prom, I tried to feed Shannon a bite of my ice cream cone and it dripped on her dress.” A laugh seemed to emerge from somewhere in the distance. “Man, was she ever mad. I was pretty sure she was gonna make me take her home.”

  “Oh.” What was he supposed to say to that exactly? “I… can see how that would be stressful. Especially on a prom dress.”

  Travis shrugged. “She was a smart one. Just took off her wrist corsage and pinned it right over the stain.”

  “Yeah.” Wesley cut off another bite of the thin steak. “That is pretty creative.”

  Travis nodded, a flush growing over his checks.

  Within moments, the pink hue over Travis’s skin had blossomed to full-blown scarlet. Wesley had almost found himself getting angry. He thought Travis had to be continually bringing up his dead wife on purpose. But the sight of the big man’s silent confession of embarrassment washed his irritation away.

  Maybe Travis was trying. What did Wesley know about the guy? Good-looking—though Todd wouldn’t think so. Loving father. Protective. Hurting. And he obviously was more than he first appeared to be. Or at least gayer than he first appeared to be.

  For the past two days, Wesley had tried to figure out what Travis wanted from him. If it had just been sex, Travis wouldn’t have needed to ask him for dinner. Although maybe he didn’t know that. He hadn’t hooked up with a guy in years.

  The only thing Wesley could come up with was that Travis must have some sort of feelings for him. Emotions had definitely been there when they’d kissed.

  Wesley kept coming back to the theory that Travis simply felt indebted to Wesley for helping Dunkyn. Dramatic as it might seem, and misguided as well, Travis might feel like Wesley had saved the dog from cancer. Those feelings of gratitude might have gotten twisted into some sexual tension and then combined with all the residuals around his wife’s death and made the poor man think he had feelings for the man who cured Dunkyn’s “cancer.”

  In his less rational, more emotional, teenage-girl moments, which he’d thought were dead, Wesley couldn’t help but play with the idea that Travis actually did have some homosexual desires and that those feelings were directed at him. More of a hope than an idea, really, and a stupid hope at that. Even if it were true, he was once again back to the most basic of all gay rules—you don’t date a newly out man. Ever.

  But he had seen it. He’d seen it the night Travis kissed him, that look that only another gay—or, at least, gayish—man could give….

  And now, that blush. It seemed to make Travis look like nothing more than a big embarrassed kid. That blush told the tale, didn’t it? It had to. While Wesley wasn’t sure how deep they went or why they were there, he was certain of two things. Travis Bennett had feelings for him, however abstract or fleeting they were. And Travis was in over his head—he had no idea what he was doing, and he knew it and was embarrassed by the whole thing.

  The least Wesley could do was keep trying.

  “So do you know why Nevada says its name like it does?”

  Travis looked up at him, a rather desperate relief showing at the subject change. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, why it’s Nevada, with a long a in the middle instead of just calling it Nevada, like the state?” Maybe not the best conversation starter, but it was something Wesley had always wondered. And surely it couldn’t be tied back to Shannon.

  Travis shrugged. “I dunno. Never really thought about it. I guess the same reason we all say El Darada, instead of El Dorado, like it’s spelled.”

  Success! No dead wife in sight. Wesley leaned forward. “Actually I’ve always wondered about that too, and the fact that you all say El Darada when you use the full name, but El Do when you shorten it.”

  Travis’s brow furrowed in thought. “Huh. You know, I’ve never even realized we do that.”

  “Yeah, and my grandparents always said worsh instead of wash. ‘Put the clothes in the worsh-machine.’ ‘Go worsh your face, Wesley.’ ‘If you say suck one more time, I’m gonna worsh your mouth out.’ But if they were talking about the president or the state, they’d always say Washington. It never made any sense.”

  Oh my God. Someone kill him. This was worse than talking about the weather. Worse than talking about baked potato bars and Shannon’s prom dress.

  Wesley glanced over at the tables beside them, searching desperately again for some escape, some new topic. Nothing. “Mom would get so mad when I’d come back from a long weekend with Grandma and Grandpa and I’d have picked up part of their accent. She said she’d worked long and hard to get rid of her own accent and no child of hers was going to pick it back up.” Dear God, he couldn’t stop. The horrible conversation just kept going and going.

  He was about to jump into how his grandparents had butchered the words Pinocchio, pliers, and dinosaurs, but then Travis jumped in. Thank God!

  “That always drove Shannon crazy too. The whole worsh thing. She never noticed it until we went to college, and then someone made fun of her about it. I bet she and your mom would have gotten along real well.”

  Just when it couldn’t get any worse, when it couldn’t become any more awkward and agonizing, a man of semiquestionable sexuality suggested that his dead wife meet the mother of the gold-star homosexual whom he’d kissed while his three children of the aforementioned dead wife slept in their beds only a few hundred feet away.

  What the hell was he doing?

  And there was that blush. Again.

  Dammit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  TRAVIS HAD never been so thrilled to pay a tab and leave a restaurant in his life. From the looks of it, Wesley felt the same way. The vet nearly sprinted out the door into the parking lot.

  All the stress about this date, or whatever it was. All the inner turmoil. All of, well, all of everything, from the feelings of twenty years ago to now. All for nothing.

  When Wesley had opened the door for Travis at his house, he had to admit he felt exac
tly the way he had when he’d picked Shannon up for dates—maybe not exactly the same, but close enough to know what the feelings meant. He’d made the right call. Things were going to be good. The date was the right choice. Wesley was handsome, standing in his doorway waiting for Travis to pick him up. Manly and pretty, all at the same time. His nervous smile and the questioning yet knowing glint in his eye had only made Travis all the more certain he was doing the right thing.

  And then it had all gone to shit.

  He was almost pissed at her. Actually if he were being honest, he was pissed off at her. This was her fucking promise that got him in this mess. The least she could do was throw him a bone. Give him something to say that didn’t revolve around her. No such luck. Shannon might’ve been enjoying the show of Travis on his first date with a man, but he sure wasn’t, and he was certain Wesley wasn’t enjoying it either.

  After slipping into the driver’s seat, shutting the door, and putting the key in the ignition, he just sat there, searching desperately for what to do, what to say. Pleading with Shannon, God, whoever, to help him know what to say.

  Travis could feel Wesley’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Wesley.

  “Travis? Are you okay?”

  Travis nodded, his throat tight.

  The silence returned for a few more heartbeats before Wesley spoke again, sounding equally nervous and concerned. “You don’t seem all right. We don’t have to do this. Like I said at Simone’s, we can just pretend this never happened. No harm, no foul.”

  Goddammit, he was fucking this up. He wasn’t even sure what this was, but he was fucking it up. Actually that was part of it, wasn’t it? He was sure what this was. He just wanted to pretend he wasn’t.

  He was attracted to the vet. He was attracted to Wesley. It was high time he quit thinking of him as the vet. He liked the guy. There was something about him he respected. And there was something his body responded to. It had been a while since he’d felt that, at least in person.

  He was fucking this up. Travis looked away from the steering wheel and turned toward Wesley. The right side of his face was illuminated from the red light of the Golden Corral sign.

  He really didn’t want to fuck this up.

  Travis let out his breath. “Can we go on a walk or something?”

  Wesley’s eyes widened in surprise. “Travis, we don’t have to. We can just go home. There’s no pressure. Like I said—”

  “No.” Travis cut him off, finding his voice. “I want to. Really. I know I’m not doing a good job of this. I do realize that. I just… I don’t know. Maybe if we’re outside. If we walk.”

  Wesley inspected him for a second. Travis didn’t look away. He respected that Wesley seemed unafraid to say what he really thought and wanted, which probably meant a big fat no was coming Travis’s way.

  “Sure. Okay. Let’s walk.” Wesley reached for the truck’s door handle.

  “No. Not from here.” Travis reached out and grabbed Wesley’s arm. He nearly pulled his hand back when he realized what he was doing. “There’s a really beautiful pond. Shannon and I used to go there and walk around sometimes.”

  Wesley inspected Travis’s hand on the crook of his arm, then lifted his gaze to meet Travis’s. “Are you sure you want to take me to another place you and your wife used to go?”

  A mist of calm sank over him. A familiar, loving presence surrounded him. “Yeah. Yes, I’m sure.”

  IT WAS the right call. The few minutes it took to drive from the restaurant to the pond were just as silent as the rest of the night, but as soon as the two of them got out of the truck, everything felt more natural.

  “Have you been here before?”

  Wesley looked around but shook his head. “I think I might have played at that park we passed a few blocks back when I was kid. I swear that huge slide looks familiar. I thought the one in El Do was big, but it’s nothing compared to that thing. But I’m pretty sure I’ve never been here.”

  “The kids love that slide. Any time we come to Nevada to go to Walmart, we have to go to that slide. Mason gets a little scared and will only do it sitting on Caleb’s or my lap, but Avery seems to think it’s the best thing ever invented.” Travis paused and motioned back toward the truck. “Are you gonna be warm enough? I think I’ve got an extra jacket in the back of the cab.”

  Wesley looked out at the treelined pond. “No. I think I’m good. Thank you, though. It’s pretty cold, but most of the snow has melted, and there’s no breeze.”

  “Well the pond is kinda long and narrow. The path around it winds in and out of the trees, so we’ll be pretty well protected, even if the breeze picks up.”

  They walked in silence to the edge of the pond, and this time the quiet feeling was more relaxed and serene.

  Travis hadn’t been to the pond since before Shannon had gotten sick. He and Wendy had brought the kids to the park, but he’d avoided going any farther. Actually now that he thought about it, he and Shannon hadn’t been to the pond since before she’d been diagnosed with cancer. The place held no bad memories. He could still feel her here, but more like a lingering sweetness around the place, instead of the rather unnerving sensation of having her watching him and Wesley over his shoulder.

  “I wish you could see this place in the spring and summer.” As they walked, Travis pointed toward the right, guiding Wesley down the longer path option around the pond. “It’s really something. The trees are so thick and green, and half of the pond is taken over by lily pads. And in the evenings, the frogs are croaking so loud it’s like they’re singing only for you, and the lightning bugs are everywhere. I swear it’s one of the prettiest places in Missouri.”

  Silence fell again, and Travis looked over at Wesley. The man was staring at him, a strange expression on his face.

  “What?”

  Wesley shrugged and then grinned. “I don’t know. I’ve just never seen you smile like that. And I know I haven’t seen you all that much, but still. You looked so peaceful. So young.”

  “You saying I look old most of the time?” He gave Wesley a wink, then realized what he’d just done. After a split second, he also realized he was okay with it.

  Wesley laughed. “No. Definitely not old. You just looked, I don’t know… well, you looked like Caleb, actually. When he was telling me about his chickens and how he’s hoping to breed an award-winning bull.”

  And there it was. Besides the physical attraction to Wesley, there was that. The man seemed to see Caleb. Just like he’d seen Dunkyn. Suddenly Travis realized he was staring. “So, uh. Tell me something about yourself.”

  Wesley stiffened, suddenly seeming nervous. “Like what?”

  Travis shrugged. “I dunno. Doesn’t matter, really. It feels like you know quite a few things about me by this point. I don’t know much more about you than that you’re a vet and you know how to cut out dog teeth. And that you’re good-looking.” Had he really just said that? He glanced away, looking out over the starlight reflected on the surface of the pond.

  “Uhm.” Wesley cleared his throat nervously. “I… ah….”

  “Why El Do?” Travis looked back at Wesley. The only nervousness left was the butterfly kind in the pit of his stomach. It was both surprising and rather great. “Why did you choose to come here?”

  “Well, because this is where my grandparents lived. I have good memories here.”

  Travis waved him off. “No. Not that. I know that. That makes sense, but that’s not why you’re here. Why does a gay man in the prime of his life come to some Podunk town where there aren’t any other gay men?”

  Wesley cocked an eyebrow.

  “I know, I know. I asked you to dinner. We’re here on a… date.” Okay, maybe still some nerves. “But why are you here?”

  “You go for the big guns quick.”

  “Yeah? Touched on a story, did I?”

  “Like you said, why would a gay guy move to El Do?” Wesley paused to inspect him.

  Travis
stood still, letting him.

  “You want the quick, down-and-dirty version or the PC one?”

  “Oh, fuck that shit. Never pull that PC crap with me. Hate it. Shoot it straight.”

  A low crack of a laugh escaped Wesley, cutting through the peace of the night for a second. A bird screeched somewhere across the pond. “Shoot it straight, huh?”

  Travis couldn’t suppress a grin. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”

  Again, Wesley considered how to tell his story, then slowly continued down the path.

  Travis matched him step for step.

  “Okay. Here it is. One hundred words or less. After Todd left me, which I already told you about, I kinda had a meltdown. I’d just gotten my veterinarian degree and was all set to open my own practice, and then he left me for that twink. I spent the next twoish years partying. Drinking and whoring with every guy I could find.” He paused in his walking and looked over.

  Travis kept his face impassive. He forced himself to give a nod.

  They started walking once more. “Well, finally, I started to pull my head out of my ass. Somewhere in all the mess, I kept thinking about the house my grandparents left me in El Do. I had such good memories of the place. Of the park and bandstand and everything. So Americana or something. Something so pure about it, which was an aspect I was sorely missing. So I called Dr. Fisher to see if I could intern with her, and she jumped at the chance.” He shrugged. “So here I am.”

  Travis considered before he spoke again, the crunching of the twigs under their shoes somehow soothing. “So you came to El Do to what? Get away from sleeping with guys?”

  “Yeah. Basically. I just needed to find myself. I’ve been kinda lost. You know?”

  Did he ever. “You came here, to El Do, to get away from guys, and then I kissed you in the barn and asked you for a date, and you said yes.”

  Wesley glanced over and grinned. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Guess I’m not doing too great on the staying-away-from-guys thing.”