Then the doors are open, and people start spilling in. Dan recognizes most of them, but a few he doesn’t, and he turns to Karl and Molly in panic. “I forgot—I don’t care what I call myself—what do you guys want me to say?”
They look at him blankly, and Dan smothers a giggle when he realizes that they think he’s just asked if they want him to use an alias. “I mean in terms of my relationship to Justin,” he clarifies.
“Oh.” Karl and Molly exchange a look. “Well, honestly… when we refer to you, we usually call you Justin’s friend.” Molly smiles. “I mean, everyone who knows Justin can figure out what that means, and if they don’t know Justin it isn’t really any of their business.”
Dan doesn’t really like it, but he doesn’t argue. He just needs to get through the day, and he had told them he didn’t care, after all. And he doesn’t have a lot of time—the visitors have worked through the extended family quickly and are almost to Dan.
He recognizes them, at least. They’re local eventers. Justin had competed against them when he was younger, and Dan still sees them when he takes horses to schooling shows. He holds out his hand, and Travis shakes it, but Natalie moves in for the hug, and Dan lets her. She’s crying a little when she pulls away, and Dan has to fight his own tears. He’s going to be a mess if this sets him off.
“We’re really going to miss him, Dan. I mean, we already were, but now….” Natalie trails off.
“And I know it’s not a fair trade, but at least people seem to be really looking at the safety issues now. We saw a demonstration on frangible jumps last week, and they looked really good.” Travis seems sincere, and Dan agrees that the new materials make sense.
And then they’re gone, moved on to Karl and Molly, and Dan faces the next person, an elderly woman he doesn’t recognize. He sees Chris hovering in the background in case Dan messes up. He extends his hand and remembers to be gentle when he shakes hers, and then says, “I’m Dan, Justin’s friend.” The “we used to fuck” line is on the tip of his tongue, but he fights it back.
“His friend?” She looks at his placement in the line, and then smirks. “Oh, is that what they’re calling it these days? Well, I’m sorry for your loss especially, then. Lord knows he was a fine-looking young man. So tall….”
The woman’s companion, equally old and delicate, has finished talking to Justin’s uncle, and now she joins the conversation. “Broad shoulders, and such a handsome face,” she says, and both women nod. Dan finds himself nodding along with them, but they look at him as if waiting for his contribution.
He’s tempted to let loose with a rhapsody to Justin’s dick, but he’s pretty sure that would bring Chris down on him, although he’s not sure the women themselves would object. He just says, “Yeah, I’m really going to miss him,” and the ladies move on.
The afternoon continues in a similar vein. Dan finds that he’s too busy trying to find small talk to really feel sad, and the few times people break down in front of him he’s working too hard trying to comfort them to join in. And Chris was right; it is sort of gratifying to see how many people were affected by Justin’s life.
He takes a few breaks, goes and has a drink or two with Chris in the back hallway, but overall the afternoon is more aggravating than painful. Still, he’s relieved to see the grandfather clock’s little hand approaching the eight.
He doesn’t realize how closely he’s been watching the door until he finally sees Jeff’s face appear, and he doesn’t realize how attached he’s gotten to the man until he feels the stab of disappointment when Jeff turns and smiles quietly at Evan as he and Tatiana follow Jeff in. Dan knows he’s been playing with fire, knows he’s not thinking as clearly as he should be due to the combination of grief and alcohol, but he had been looking forward to spending some more time alone with Jeff. Not thinking that anything would happen, necessarily, just basking in the glow of Jeff’s warmth, like a cat in front of a fire. But now Evan is here, and Dan has the uncharitable thought that he’s here more to emphasize his claim on Jeff than to offer condolences.
As soon as Evan is in front of him, Dan feels bad for being so petty. The guy is so genuine, so… Dan wants to call him wholesome, although that doesn’t seem quite right given Dan’s firsthand experience with his pick-up techniques. But even then, he’d seemed sincere, too intense, but not sleazy. And he’s the same way now. Just the fact that he’s here is too much. It’s insane that he flew half way across the country to pay his respects to a man he never met, all because of a man he’s only spent a handful of hours with. But Dan isn’t arrogant enough to think that he could be an actual threat to Jeff and Evan’s relationship, even if he wanted to be, so he knows Evan isn’t really here to lay claim. He’s here because he’s Evan. He’s over-sized in every way.
Evan seems to be trying to hold back from hugging Dan, but it’s so clearly what he wants to do that Dan just gives up and leans in for it. He’s been hugged tonight by people he’s never even met, so Evan makes sense by comparison. Evan pulls back and looks him in the eye, saying, “Really, so sorry for your loss, Dan. I never got to meet him, but Tat’s such a fan that I feel like I did. I wish I had.”
Dan nods. He’s got his own set of wishes about Justin, and they’re no more likely to come true than Evan’s is. “Thanks for coming, man. It’s a long trip.”
Evan shrugs. “Well, maybe we’ll visit the horses while we’re here. Apparently Tat’s developing a bit of an interest in Sunshine.” Evan smiles and moves over to speak to Karl and Molly, but he keeps a watchful eye on Tatiana as she approaches Dan.
“I hope it’s okay that we came. I realized… I realized that I never told you how I got interested in eventing. It was….” Tatiana seems nervous, looks to Evan, who smiles back gently until she continues. “It was Rolex two years ago. I was watching on TV, and”—she shrugs self-consciously—“well, obviously Justin caught my eye because he was so good-looking, but what made me want to try the sport was how happy he looked. Not just when he won, but all through. It looked like he really loved every minute of it. Even when they went through that gully, and his face got all splashed with mud, he was smiling the whole time.” She stops, and looks as though she’s torn between the embarrassment of having spoken and the remembered joy of the moment. “He just looked like he was doing exactly what he was meant to do.”
Dan can’t believe it. He’s made it through almost four hours of this shit with his dignity intact, and now some fifteen-year-old is going to break him down? Dan takes a deep, shaky breath. His eyes are filled, but they haven’t spilled over yet, if she just moves on he might be okay.
She’s on her way, her feet are moving, and then she looks back and says softly, “You were so lucky to have known him,” and Dan is done. He’s just crying now but he can feel the sobs building and knows he needs to get out of there. Karl is looking concerned and is guiding Tatiana away, and Dan heads out. There’s hardly anyone left in line but he doesn’t care anyway. He gropes his way to the back hallway but that’s not far enough away, so he keeps going, finds the back door and pushes through it. Once he’s outside he turns and slams his body into the side of the building, raises one hand over his head and punches the brick wall, sobs wracking his body. Justin is gone. Dan was lucky to have known him, lucky to have loved him, incredibly lucky to have been loved back, and now it’s all over, and Dan is alone, and he doesn’t know if he can stand it.
He’s crying so hard his whole chest hurts, and he wants to stop but he can’t. Justin is gone; his smile is gone; his laugh is gone; his stupid little smirk that made Dan so mad is gone. He hits the wall again, and he can hear himself making a strange sound, a sort of whining growl. Justin’s never going to kiss him again, never going to get that mischievous look as he runs his hands down Dan’s stomach, never going to touch Dan again, and he really doesn’t know how he’s supposed to accept that. Dan’s sobs are almost gasps for air, and he feels his knees giving out, and he just doesn’t care, letting himself slide sideways
down the wall. He doesn’t get that far, though, before he feels strong hands catching his arms, gently lifting him up. Dan almost fights them, wants to hit the ground and wallow there and wait until his heart finally explodes and kills him so he can be with Justin, but he’s too tired to fight. He just slumps, instead, and the pain is still there and the sobs are still coming, but Dan can feel warm bodies on both sides of him, can feel his arms being propped across their shoulders as he is walked over to a windowsill and sat down on it, the bodies quickly turning and sitting on either side of him, propping him up.
Dan doubles over and braces his elbows on his knees, his forehead against his arms, and he keeps crying. There is a soothing hand rubbing his back, and then he hears a crunch of feet and something cool and damp is draped over his neck. A couple of times he thinks maybe he’s done and takes a deep breath, but then the sobs build again, and he’s back at it.
Finally, it’s over. He feels exhausted, but his control is back. Something is pressed into his hand, and he hears Jeff’s voice saying, “Okay, kid, take a drink now.” He’s still bent over, but he sits up a little and obediently lifts the bottle to his lips. He chokes when the cool liquid runs over his tongue.
Chris is there, too, and he laughs a little. “He was expecting bourbon.”
Jeff’s hand stops rubbing his back and starts patting a little. “Let’s take a little break from that, kid. You can only put things off for so long.” He guides Dan’s hand so the bottle comes to his mouth again, and Dan obediently takes another sip. Now that he knows what’s coming, the water is welcome. He reaches one hand up and finds the handkerchief that someone had soaked and put on his neck, and he pulls it around to wash over his face. The cloth isn’t cool anymore, but it’s still better than nothing. When he’s done he just holds it in his hand, but Jeff gently takes it and the bottle from him, pours some more water on and wrings it out, then gives it back to him. This time it is cool on his face, and he almost starts crying again in gratitude.
The three of them sit there like that for a while, and then Dan feels a little better and sits up straight, but Jeff keeps his arm around Dan’s shoulders, and Chris is still a solid presence on the other side. After another little while, Dan recovers enough to be embarrassed.
“Shit, guys, I’m sorry—” he starts, but he doesn’t get any further.
“Shut up, Danny.”
“No, but….”
“Danny, I’m serious, I don’t want to hear it.” Chris’s voice is firm, but he’s got tears in his eyes. “Justin was my best friend, and you and him were great together. You melting down a little? That’s the absolute least that his memory deserves.”
Dan hadn’t really thought of things from that perspective. But then he still shouldn’t have dragged Jeff into it. He turns to Jeff’s side, opens his mouth to apologize, and Jeff hold up a hand to cut him off. “I consider the mac and cheese to be adequate payment for my part here.” He smiles and runs his hand along Dan’s shoulder to grip his neck, and shakes him a little.
Dan manages a smile and a nod. His composure has returned just in time, apparently, because the funeral director pokes his head out the back door and looks like he has something to say. Chris goes and talks to him quietly, and then comes back to crouch down next to Dan.
“Danny, they want to close up for the night and put the coffin away. If you want to see him, now would be a good time.” Dan looks up at him shakily, and Chris says, “But it doesn’t have to be now. They’ve got a schedule, but we can change things however we need to, if you aren’t up for it yet.”
Dan considers it. He’s tired, but he also feels cleansed somehow, as if the crying had washed away some of the crap that was getting in the way of his feelings. It actually seems like a pretty good time to say goodbye. He stands up and tries to straighten his suit. “No, I’m good. I should do it now.”
Chris and Jeff both look a bit doubtful, but Dan heads for the door, and they follow. He works his way through the back hall and pauses outside the room where Justin is. Jeff and Chris come up behind him, and the funeral director approaches. “Mr. and Mrs. Archer have already gone home for the evening, so please take your time.”
Dan nods, and then steps into the room. He hears the soft sound of the doors sliding closed behind him.
He looks around. This is the room they displayed most of the memorabilia in. There are photos of Justin at all different ages on a variety of horses, and Dan traces his fingers over the image of Justin and Willow working in the dressage ring at the barn. Tatiana was right; even just during a regular work out, Justin looked happy. He looked like he was doing what he was meant to do. Dan looks at some of the other photos, and is surprised by how many of them he sees himself in. There’s one he’s never seen before, although he remembers the day. They’d been at a friend’s summer cottage with the Fosters. Chris had gone back into town for work, but Dan and Justin had stayed behind and had been swimming and boating all day. The picture was taken just as the sun was going down, with Dan sitting on the ground by the lake, half-reclined against a huge driftwood log, and Justin leaning back against his chest, Dan’s hand playing with Justin’s hair, his other hand laced with Justin’s. They’re both facing the sunset, and their faces glow with reflected light. Justin is looking out at the lake, but Dan is looking down at Justin, and the love in his eyes is clear. Dan wonders who took the photo, and why whoever it was had never given him a copy. He also wonders why Justin’s parents would have Dan call himself Justin’s friend at the same time that they’re displaying a photograph that shows so clearly how much more he was.
But all of this is just a distraction from the main event. Dan’s eyes are drawn to the coffin in the corner. He knows he needs to do it soon. His crying fit might have cleaned him out temporarily, but he can feel it all building up again, and he wants to be as pure as he can be for Justin. He takes a deep breath and crosses the room.
He feels the breath go out of him a little when he looks into the casket. Justin looks more alive now than he has for the past year, and it’s enough that Dan has to quickly quell the tiny, irrational hope that somehow his miracle has occurred. Once Dan looks a little closer, it’s clear that the makeup hasn’t been enough to give more than a thin illusion of life. Justin is gone. Dan thinks about touching him, but decides not to. He touched Justin all the time in the hospital, always hoping for some reaction, never getting one. At least there, Justin’s skin had been warm. Dan doesn’t want his last contact with this vibrant, hot-blooded man to be the chill of a funeral parlor and the waxy feel of mortuary cosmetics. Dan takes one last look at Justin’s body, and steps away. He doesn’t need to say goodbye to that; it’s not Justin.
He doesn’t leave, though. Instead he walks back to the photograph from the lake, and reaches out to touch it instead. He doesn’t have any words, but he feels all the love in his heart and tries to pour it out through his fingertips, send it along through the photograph to wherever Justin is now. He’s crying again, but he knows it’s okay, knows that he’s not going to lose control. He smiles a little, too, thinking of that day and of all the other beautiful days they’d shared. There should have been more, but he’s glad he had as many as he did, and he knows he’s found an answer to the question he’d had at Monty’s stall the other night. Yes, it’s worth it. The pain of sorrow is terrible and hard to bear, but the joy of love makes it worthwhile. Dan will never be sorry for having known and loved Justin, even though that love was taken from him far too soon.
He wipes his tears away and takes a moment to collect himself. Then he picks up the photograph in its cheap wooden frame. He walks over to the doors and slides one open, stepping outside where he’s not surprised to find Chris and Jeff hovering. They’re watching him closely, and Dan manages a smile.
Jeff walks up beside him. “You all right, kid?”
Dan turns to him and smiles a little. “You need to find another nickname.” Jeff gives him a blank look, and Dan smiles a little more. “Evan is ‘kid’.
You can find something else for me, and you can call me Dan until you do.” Then he turns to Chris. “I don’t know whose this is”—he holds the photograph up—“but I’m taking it.” Chris just nods with a half smile. Dan looks through the glass front doors. “It’s almost a full moon, lots of light—you guys feel like going for a ride?”
Jeff looks at him from under raised eyebrows. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
Dan’s smile is a little fragile, but it holds. “Nope, I’m pretty fucked up. But I don’t think going for a ride is going to make it worse.” He turns and looks at Chris. “You in?” Chris nods wordlessly, looking amused, and Dan’s eyes shift back to Jeff. “If you’re feeling your age and need to get a good-night’s sleep, we understand. Really. I’m sure Chris and I will be like that in another ten or fifteen years. It’s fine.”
Jeff’s grin is growing. “You give me that speech, and I can’t call you ‘kid’?” He shakes his head. “All right, Dan, let’s go. Let’s ride.”
They head out into the parking lot, and Jeff grabs his overnight bag from his rental car before all three pile into Chris’s truck. The moon is bright and the air is warm, and they drive with the windows down. It’s not perfect, but it’s good, and that’s all Dan needs for now.
Chapter 16
JEFF LOOKS a little surprised when Chris doesn’t turn the truck off at the farm. Dan hops out and then turns to Jeff. “I’m just going in to change—do you want to get changed here?” Jeff looks back at Dan blankly. “Oh, Chris is going over to his parents’ place to get the horses.” Dan grins. “You were gonna let us risk the eventers? Nah, the Fosters keep Quarter Horses—way better for this sort of thing.”
Dreamspinner Press Year Four Greatest Hits Page 42
