Yet there had been that hesitancy. Bobby had assumed it was from being with another man, but maybe it was actually from Odis just being intimate, period. It left Bobby with much to ponder.
He found the tiny clothing store, and as Gertie described, it was mostly western wear. Bobby got another pair of jeans, some socks and underwear, and picked out three of the plainer-looking shirts.
With the radio loud, Bobby drove back to the B and B.
He walked upstairs to the small but cozy room Gertie had assigned him. He put the purchases away in the dresser before taking out his phone. He should call Sharon before it got too late.
“Hey,” Sharon answered. “You on your way back?”
“Not yet, got a room for the night. Things turned out a bit more….” Bobby paused, unsure how much to tell his friend. Should he bring up what happened with Odis? “A bit more complicated than I expected.”
“Oh?”
“The work wasn’t done yet, so I’m waiting for the artist to finish.”
“What’s going on, Bob? I know you’re not telling me everything. You didn’t want to make the trip in the first place. I practically had to shove you onto the plane. Now you’re staying the night?”
“I don’t know, Shar. It’s complicated. Can we just leave it at that for now?”
Sharon sighed into the phone. “Just watch your back. Don’t let any of those Texan gunslingers sneak up on you,” she said with a laugh.
Bobby laughed along. “You watch too many of those cheesy westerns. I’m gonna get some sleep and call ya later.”
“All right, then, and I expect details next time. G’night.”
“Good night.”
AFTER hanging up, Bobby lay on the bed in his room, flipping absently through channels on the TV. This seemed like so many other wasted nights in his life. He couldn’t count how many evenings he’d spent in hotel rooms, waiting for the next day’s game.
But this night was so different from those. Instead of feeling the pregame excitement and chatting on the phone with Nate, he was feeling a bit of guilt and stewing over Odis. Mentally, he knew the cheating guilt was ridiculous, yet he couldn’t seem to completely shake it off. Even though Nate was gone, Bobby had been unswervingly faithful to the man for over twenty years, and convincing his heart not to feel any adulterous blame was a challenge.
Odis. He sighed again at the thought of the little man.
Odis took him by surprise. So soon after Nathan’s death, Bobby certainly hadn’t planned on flying to Texas and making out with some guy, but he had. Getting that postcard and those peculiar instructions had set off this strange chain of events, a chain to the receipt in Nate’s desk that pointed him here. In some improbable way, it was almost as though Nate had planned for his little tryst with Odis to happen.
Bobby flipped through more channels. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that exploratory session he had shared with Odis. In the moment, that sharing had felt so natural, so desirous, but now he questioned why he’d allowed it to happen. Was it just the weed and the loneliness spurring him forward?
No, it was Odis. Like some leprechaun, Odis enthralled him with a hidden power to have his way.
Bobby had to chuckle at his own thought. No, from what Gertie and John described at dinner, he knew Odis wasn’t some kind of player. Those explorative urges must have been just as unexpected for him as well, especially considering he was exploring the uncharted territories of another man.
Now that Odis was inspired—which had seemed like such a surprise to Gertie—did that mean Odis was done with him? Bobby hoped not. Those explorations had such an unusual mix of tenderness and heat, they left Bobby hungry to explore more of Odis’s attention. Odis had also said he wanted more, but would he still feel that way in the sober light of a new day?
Allowing a noisy yawn, Bobby turned off the TV and settled under the covers. Hopefully, Odis wouldn’t keep him waiting here long. Though he’d seen the work of the struggling and hurting horse, he was curious about what kind of sculpture the man would come up with. But maybe Bobby should be concerned. What if this new sculpted work also came from such a dark place?
Bobby pushed that thought aside as he fell into sleep.
THE next morning, Bobby awoke with the dawn. He had planned to just sleep in, but his body clicked into the old habit of rising early for game days.
He rolled over. The scent of coffee teased at his nostrils. The thought of it roused Bobby from the bed.
After getting dressed into a new shirt and his old jeans, which still looked acceptably clean after only one day’s use, Bobby wandered downstairs. He found Gertie in the dining room.
“Mornin’,” she said with a curt nod.
“Morning, Gertie.”
“Up kinda early….”
“Old habit.” Bobby smiled at her, thinking she didn’t seem like a morning person.
“Have a seat, just fixin’ to scramble some eggs. I’ll bring ya some in a minute,” she said, handing him a mug of coffee. “Sugar, cream, whatnot’s on the table.”
“Thanks.”
Bobby sat at the table and grabbed a sugar packet as she went into the kitchen.
Gertie returned a few minutes later with two large serving platters covered in scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a few muffins. She disappeared again and returned with plates and silverware, and she handed a set to Bobby before sitting down. “Dig in.”
“Thank you.” Bobby loaded up a plate as John stumbled in and muttered something on his way to the kitchen.
John returned with a mug of coffee and sat down, still looking bleary-eyed.
“Good morning to ya,” Bobby said.
“Yeah,” John replied, nursing his coffee.
Gertie just took a piece of toast. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, you have very nice rooms here.”
Gertie nodded. “Even bein’ right on Main Street, everybody says it’s always quiet.”
“It is,” Bobby agreed. “Is there a gym nearby where I could squeeze in a workout this morning?”
“No. Town doesn’t really have one. Different people talked about startin’ some kind of health club from time to time, but it hasn’t ever happened.”
“Oh well, just a thought.”
“Your best bet might be Odis. He has a whole setup over at his place. Hot tub and all,” she said with a wink.
John just grunted and shook his head. “Still too early in the mornin’ to wrap my head around that one.”
“Around what, honey?”
“Odis… and a man.”
“Not for us to worry about,” she told John. She turned to Bobby. “Although, I was thinkin’ last night, after the divorce from Marsha, Odis did seem a bit infatuated with Tucker for a time.”
Bobby nodded. “He said I wasn’t the first guy to ever catch his eye.”
“Well.” She looked directly at Bobby. “I’m not one to meddle—much, anyway—in my younger brother’s business. But he hasn’t had an easy time of things lately, so don’t go jerking him around.”
“Certainly not,” he reassured her. “I’m not that kind of guy.”
“Didn’t think you were, or we’d be having an entirely different conversation,” she said strongly.
“Point taken.” Bobby nodded firmly.
“Now, then, Brungess doesn’t have much in the way of things to do. Not much of a tourist town or anything. I’ll see if we can’t come up with something, though. Hate the idea of ya just sitting in your room at loose ends.”
“How about a library? Can always find some reading to catch up on.”
“Great idea. I’ll call over later and set it up. You can take my card and check out a few books, I’m sure.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
TWO cups of coffee later, Bobby followed Gertie’s directions to the library and returned with some fiction books to read. He stretched out on his bed upstairs and dug into a recent action novel.
He was only starting chapter th
ree when he heard the beep noise from the hotel phone on his bedside table, indicating an incoming call.
He placed a bookmark and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
A tired voice on the other line said, “Hey, stud. I finished.”
“Hi, Odis. You did?”
“Why don’t you grab some fried chicken and beer, then come on back?”
“All right. What did you make?”
“Nope, nope, don’t spoil the surprise. Just get over here, stud.”
“All right. See ya in a bit.”
AFTER consulting with Gertie about where to get the chicken and beer, Bobby picked up the supplies and drove back out to Odis’s place. He left the car and pushed the gate button on the back of the box. Before the gate was completely open, Heimdalla raced up and bounced around at his feet. As soon as Bobby opened the car door, she jumped into the backseat and sat, her square tongue hanging out of a doggy-smile face.
“Guess you’re coming along, huh?”
Bobby pulled the car into the property, got out, and closed the gate. Heim just watched him from the backseat, happy as a clam.
He pulled the car up in front of the shed and turned off the engine. When Bobby reached in for the bags of food and beer, Heim jumped out and bounced around his feet again. After Bobby retrieved the items and closed the door, Heim raced down the stairs and waited for him at the house door.
Arriving at the bottom of the steps, Bobby saw Odis through the glass. He was sitting at the patio table, looking frightfully like a mad scientist. His hair was all frizzed out, a pair of reading glasses barely clutched to the edge of his nose. The lenses magnified the dark circles under his eyes in a gruesome way. As Bobby approached with the parcels, he could see Odis’s hands were clean, but traces of red clay still clung stubbornly under his fingernails. Odis looked up.
Then Bobby saw the huge grin on Odis’s face and thought he might be one of the sexiest men he’d ever seen.
“Hey, stud, ya made it,” Odis said as he moved to the kitchen, put his eyeglasses on the counter, then fetched some plates.
“Was beginning to wonder if you were gonna call.” Bobby glanced over his disheveled appearance again. “How much sleep did you get?”
“Sleep? I was busy. Just finished a bit ago.”
The men filled up their plates and opened their beers. Bobby sat at the table.
Odis put his plate on the table. “First things first,” he said, and he leaned over Bobby and captured his mouth with a warm kiss. Odis’s tongue tasted spicy and peppery from the weed still lingering on his breath.
“Well, hello to you too,” Bobby sighed when Odis pulled back.
Odis grinned as he took his seat and started eating. He dug into the food as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Bobby doubted he’d had anything since the sandwich yesterday. “So—”
“Patience,” Odis said between bites. “Let a man get some food first.”
“All right.”
Odis took a swig from the beer bottle, then held it out to look at the label. “What kind is this?”
“One of the local brews I got hooked on in Boston. Was surprised to see it at the liquor store. Hope it’s okay?”
Odis smiled. “It’s a lot better than that piss water out at the convenience store. It’s very okay.” He took another swig and, with a smile, savored the heavy taste of the hops.
Heim sat down next to Bobby, then put her head on his knee.
Odis clucked his tongue. “Scootch on, Heim. Don’t be beggin’. He ain’t gonna give ya none either.”
“Aah, but she looks like she’s starving,” Bobby teased.
Odis clucked his tongue again. “Damn dog ain’t starvin’. Prob’ly eats more than I do.”
“You heard him,” Bobby said, looking down at the pitiful dog. “Move along.”
Heim pulled her head off of his knee and scooted over about a foot before lying down on the floor and exhaling a pitiful sigh.
After devouring about half the food on his plate, Odis pushed it away. “Now, then.” He took another huge swig of beer, then let out a burp.
Bobby finished off his biscuit. “I get to see it now?”
“Wouldn’t mind gettin’ to some other business, but I can tell your curiosity will eat ya alive if I don’t let ya see it first.” Odis stood and took his hand, then led him out to the studio.
The piece was covered with a damp towel. This work looked even larger than the horse, thirty, maybe even thirty-six inches tall.
“Now, no touching, it’s still wet,” Odis warned as he carefully removed the towel.
Done in various hues of red and gray clay stood a huge weeping willow. Bobby was instantly drawn into the strange beauty of the figure. The branches and thin tassely leaves of the proudly standing tree leaned to one side, blown by a phantom breeze.
As Bobby looked closer, he noticed more details. On the ground by the tree’s trunk lay a scattering of tiny chipped and discarded-looking bricks, and a tiny broken fishing pole lay atop them. In the upper branches of the tree, two tiny hummingbirds hovered as they faced each other. Carved into the bark of the trunk, a tiny heart framed the monogram “nip + rpl.”
Odis put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder as he admired the work. “Told ya you weren’t a brick.”
Bobby noticed the words “Happy 40th” inscribed along the face of the work’s base. “This is me?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from cracking.
“Kinda how I see ya, tall and strong, but branches soft enough to bend in the wind without breaking.”
Bobby couldn’t keep his eyes from watering as he gazed over the sculpture. “And this is what Nate asked for?”
Odis chuckled. “Not specifically.” He picked up the moist towel and carefully placed it back over the clay piece. “He just asked for something strong and joyful with that inscription. I kinda filled in the rest.”
“Why are you covering it? It’s way too beautiful to keep hidden.” Bobby wiped at his cheek.
Odis rolled his eyes. “Not hiding it. Hafta let it dry slowly or the clay cracks. Just leave me to my job.”
Bobby distracted himself from his tearful eyes by looking around the studio. He noticed another covered work on the counter and various carving supplies near it. “You started another one?”
“Kinda need to talk to you about that.” Odis took Bobby’s hand and led him back to the house.
Bobby looked down at his hand in Odis’s. It seemed like such an intimate thing to do, but Odis didn’t even seem to think about it when he took his hand. Bobby wiped at his cheek again, hoping Odis didn’t think he was some kind of limp pansy.
Chapter 4
WHEN they got back inside the house, Bobby helped Odis move the mess from the patio table to the kitchen counter. Odis rinsed off the dishes and left them draining in the sink, then put away the leftover chicken in the fridge while Bobby got two fresh beers.
Feeling more composed, Bobby followed Odis back to the table.
Odis took a swig of beer. “Now, then, I need to ask a question that’s prob’ly gonna be painful as fuck for ya to answer, but I do have a reason for asking.”
Bobby took two big swallows of his beer. “All right, then, ask.”
“How exactly did Nathan die?”
Bobby winced. “Aneurism.” He took two more big swallows.
Odis watched him, waiting for the whole story.
“He’d hidden it from me the whole time I knew him. I knew many of his extended family had already died young from something, but he never told me any details, only that it was a genetic thing. Because he seemed so—no, he was healthy. So I always assumed he didn’t have whatever affliction it was. I suppose the lies were as much my fault for never asking point-blank for some real details.”
“So he knew he had that aneurism,” Odis said.
“I found out in the hospital, when his doctor flew up, that Nate had put off a new surgery the doctor wanted to try. His scan in August had the doctor worr
ied—oh.” Bobby stopped himself. “For about the last decade he’d been having brain scans every six months, I found out. He was basically a walking time bomb.”
They sipped their beers.
“Anyway, doctors had this stint thing they wanted to try, but Nate pushed it off until November. Doctors gave him a whole list of things to avoid, one of which was flying. Damn bastard.”
Bobby sat and tried to breathe. “The aneurism burst when he was in the cab leaving the airport, and all the bleeding pretty much scrambled his brain. You can guess the rest.”
Odis got up and returned from the kitchen with two more beers. “Nathan seems pretty noble to me,” he said as he handed one to Bobby.
“Noble? How the fuck do you get that? He lied to me for twenty-two years. Even in August, he didn’t say one word about the doctor or the surgery. He could have told me about it all then, at least.”
“And if he had told ya, in August, what would you have done?”
“Made him get the surgery.”
Odis frowned as he sat back down. “Made him?”
“No. You know.”
“You would have nagged him about it. And you would have worried about it. It would have put you off your game. If Nathan knew it was your last season, he wouldn’t have wanted to take that away from you.”
“Yeah, he knew I was retiring.”
“Of course he did. And he was being altruistic, letting you have the last of your career before droppin’ all of his shit on you. Or trying to, anyway. He knew the Series wouldn’t be over until November.”
Bobby scowled at him.
“Go ahead and get pissed at me, if it helps. But you know I’m right. I’m sure Nathan felt that he was on borrowed time for those last ten years and didn’t want to waste a second of it with fretting or what-ifs.”
Bobby just stewed in his chair.
Odis left him alone for a few minutes before continuing. “I told you I had a reason for asking.”
Cleats in Clay Page 4
