Blink

by Rick R. Reed

  I sit down at the opposite end of the car as the train lurches into motion and stare out the window. It’s still dark, but the sky is that peculiar shade of gray that portends the dawn. I could press my head against the glass and let the train’s motion rock me to sleep.

  But then I’d miss switching trains at Belmont, and God only knows where I’d end up.

  I feel my phone vibrate once in my pocket, letting me know I’ve either gotten an e-mail or a text. I smile. I like to think it’s a text from Andy, telling me again how wonderful our night was.

  But when I pull the phone from my pocket, there’s no indication of a text. I go into my e-mail and find a new one with the subject line: Another Note. It’s from AndyS58.

  I press the screen so the e-mail will open.

  Dear Carlos,

  Remember that first time we were together? I gave you a letter that night. I don’t know if you’ll even recall what it said, but I do. That letter was an apology. It was from a tortured young man who, in spite of desires that longed to be recognized, couldn’t accept himself. I remember him so well. That young man was filled with a kind of hope that the impossible could change and that the life he wanted, and everyone he knew wanted for him, could happen.

  I cast you away with that letter. With this one, I cast that young man away.

  My hope now is that I’m drawing you back in. Hope. That’s what the two letters had in common. That first letter to you was filled with a tainted hope—a wish for something that could never come true.

  This one is filled, I believe, with a purer hope. That you and I have been given a second chance that maybe neither of us ever believed would come.

  I like to think that. I like to think of you, which I am doing right now, lying here in my bed. I can still smell the scent of you on the pillow next to me.

  Until we meet again….

  And hey, can we make it thirty-two hours instead of thirty-two years?

  Yours in hope,

  Andy

  I stare down at the screen and realize I’m smiling. I look up and see that a young man has boarded the train while I lingered over Andy’s sweet message. He’s young, bundled into a winter coat that’s probably too warm or will be once the sun comes up, and he has his nose buried in a book.

  He reminds me of Andy.

  EPILOGUE: TATE

  IT’S ONE of those autumn days that still looks like summer. The sun is shining brilliantly, and there are only a few clouds, long wisps of white, up high. The leaves have only just begun to turn, and green is still predominant. Bees buzz in the air. The water of Lake Michigan sparkles like someone has cast diamonds upon its surface. Its waves crash gently onto the shore.

  Wafts of roasting meat from grills permeate the warm breezes, and I hear the laughter of children and the murmur of conversations all around. A car passes by, engine grumbling, but above it, an aria is playing on the radio. Jessye Norman.

  Yet there’s an undercurrent, barely noticeable, that summer has already packed and is waiting at the station to make its departure for another year. Maybe it’s conditioned in my bones from years of repetition, but I know night will fall earlier, and it will be a little cooler than the previous night. The shadows on the ground are just a tad longer than they were in August. The boats on the water are fewer. Winter patiently bides his time, knowing eventually that he will reign, all of this but a memory.

  But I don’t want to think about that coming season, or even autumn. We’re here today with my dad and his new boyfriend, Carlos. I gaze up from the blankets we’ve spread out and look at the two of them, walking along the shoreline. Dad’s in cargo shorts and a white Cozumel T-shirt I brought back from a trip there with Mom a couple of years ago. He looks young, tanned, and vigorous, and from this distance at least, I can almost imagine him as a contemporary of mine rather than a parent. Carlos walks next to him, talking animatedly, using his hands a lot. He’s wearing jeans, rolled up, and a loose-fitting linen shirt, pale blue. The shirt makes a wonderful contrast to his skin. He’s a pretty gorgeous guy, one that I would only admit to myself I’m a little attracted to. I mean, come on, hot Latin Papi… what’s not to like?

  As I said, though, I’d never admit that anywhere farther out than from the confines of my own mind. I have my own hot guy anyway, who should be getting here any minute now. Completely different from Carlos but all mine! At least for now….

  Anyway, I’m happy for Dad. Growing up, I watched him hunt for the right guy and meet lots of losers on the way. There was always this guy or that one he wanted me to meet. We’d go to lunch on a Sunday, or take in the Lincoln Park Zoo, or maybe ride the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. Those guys are all pretty interchangeable in my mind, maybe because none of them were right.

  They were always just putting on a show, being friendly to me. I think to most of them I was little more than an obstacle, something standing in the way of my dad. I saw right through it. And so, I think, did my dad.

  They never lasted, and sometimes I wondered if Dad was trapped in a kind of torture. He’d met my mother when they were younger than I am now, and I know they had a passionate and very loving relationship, but one that could never be because he was not only hiding from himself, but also from her.

  It was rough for a while, once they split up. I was only six, and it was hard for me to understand why our happy little family had had the supports kicked out from underneath it.

  A memory comes to me, and it warms. I’m standing with my little blue coat on in the vestibule of Dad’s apartment building, waiting for my mom to pick me up. I must have been six or seven, and Dad had his first boyfriend, a passive-aggressive type named Keith, who wasn’t home for my visit this time. Dad and I had watched a videotape from Blockbuster, Edward Scissorhands, and ordered in pizza. I remember asking, a little tearfully, if Dad loved Keith more than me. He got down on his knees and gathered me into his arms and said, “No, never.” I have never doubted his love since then. As I grew, though, and saw Dad’s string of failed relationships, I always wanted him to find someone to love at least as much as he loves me. I smile to myself. Maybe he has.

  Time heals, and we all moved on. Except Dad. He always seemed trapped in his neat little existence. Never miserable, but never happy either. He would see his friend, Jules, take me on visits to Ohio to hang out with our family back there, and date the occasional guy.

  Looking out at him and Carlos now does my heart good. Anyone seeing them would know they’re two gay men. They can’t hide the way they look at each other, the smiles they have only for the other. They’d be holding hands, I think, if they were brought up in a different generation.

  But I can also see they’re two guys in love. Dad waited a long time to reintroduce me to Carlos, and I think he wanted to be sure about him, that he wasn’t yet another empty dream in a long line of empty dreams. He told me about their dates throughout the summer and would conveniently leave out that Carlos was spending several nights a week at his place. I knew. I’d sometimes hear Carlos in the background, or there’d be music playing that wasn’t quite what Dad would choose.

  I was happy for him and hoped for the best.

  Dad arranged this lakefront picnic today so the four of us could get together. It’s a little awkward because there’s so much hope in all the parties—hope that we’ll all get along, we’ll all be friends.

  And there’s hope for me too. I look away from Dad and Carlos to see Kelly walking toward me. He has a shy grin on his face, and he’s barefoot, wearing cutoff jean shorts and a white T-shirt. His red hair and freckles give him a boyish look, but that body—oh, that body—contradicts it.

  “Hey, stranger.” He plops down on the blanket beside me and gives me a kiss. A long, lingering one. If someone is watching and has an issue with it, that’s their problem, not ours.

  We recline back on the blanket, both propped up on our elbows. Wind rustles the leaves above us.

  “It’s a gorgeous day,” I say.

  “Oh yeah.
I’ll need sunscreen. I’m not like you. You brown. I burn.”

  I offer to lather it on him, all over. “I’ll make sure to get your most vulnerable places.”

  “What? And get me all worked up in front of your dad? No way!” Kelly laughs. He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. “Do you like him?”

  “Who, Carlos? Sure. He seems like a nice man. Kind. The important thing, though, is that Dad likes him. And I think he does, maybe even loves him. And that’s good to finally see.”

  Kelly moves behind me and massages my shoulders. I close my eyes. He leans down and whispers, “Love is always good to see.”

  I grab one of his hands and kiss it.

  AFTERWORD: RICK

  THIS IS a work of fiction, but it’s based, more than anything else I’ve written, on my own life. For the curious, I will admit that much of what happened in 1982 happened in my own life that same year. Carlos was a real person, and that poorly timed phone call from my mother actually happened. Or maybe it wasn’t so poorly timed after all. As Andy realizes, the paths we take in life should never be regretted because they bring us both treasures and tragedies. Like Andy, I wouldn’t trade my treasures for anything. So thank you, Mom, for calling to ask about the wedding. Life can change in the blink of an eye.

  The truth of the second part lies more in my imagination. Like Andy, I had a string of failed relationships. And like him too, I found the man who made my life complete, even if he wasn’t the gorgeous Cuban I flirted with on the ‘L.’ He’s better. But the second half of the book, I like to imagine, is what could have happened had I not met my husband. Who knows?

  I hope you’ve enjoyed taking this stroll down memory lane with me and that you’ve found the journey in imagination to what might have been satisfying. I’d love to hear from you at jimmyfels@gmail.com if you’d like to let me know what you thought of the book.

  And Carlos, if you’re reading this, you can get in touch too. Although I’m happily spoken for now, it might be interesting to hear how your life has turned out. I hope as good as my own and that your happy ending came to you as well.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  RICK R. REED is all about exploring the romantic entanglements of gay men in contemporary, realistic settings. While his stories often contain elements of suspense, mystery, and the paranormal, his focus ultimately returns to the power of love. He is the author of dozens of published novels, novellas, and short stories. He is a three-time EPIC eBook Award winner (for Caregiver, Orientation, and The Blue Moon Cafe). Lambda Literary Review has called him, “a writer that doesn’t disappoint.” In his spare time, Rick is an avid runner, loves to cook, and reads voraciously. Rick lives in Seattle with his husband and a very spoiled Boston terrier. He is forever “at work on another novel.”

  Visit Rick’s website at http://www.rickrreed.com or follow his blog at http://rickrreedreality.blogspot.com/. You can also like Rick on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/rickrreedbooks or on Twitter at https://www.twitter.com/rickrreed. Rick always enjoys hearing from readers and answers all e-mails personally. Send him a message at jimmyfels@gmail.com.

  Also by this author and DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  Bashed

  By Rick R. Reed

  It should have been a perfect night out. Instead, Mark and Donald collide with tragedy when they leave their favorite night spot. That dark October night, three gay-bashers emerge from the gloom, armed with slurs, fists, and an aluminum baseball bat.

  The hate crime leaves Donald lost and alone, clinging to the memory of the only man he ever loved. He is haunted, both literally and figuratively, by Mark and what might have been. Trapped in a limbo offering no closure, Donald can’t immediately accept the salvation his new neighbor, Walter, offers. Walter’s kindness and patience are qualities his sixteen-year-old nephew, Justin, understands well. Walter provides the only sense of family the boy’s ever known. But Justin holds a dark secret that threatens to tear Donald and Walter apart before their love even has a chance to blossom.

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Caregiver

  By Rick R. Reed

  It’s 1991, and Dan Calzolaio has just moved to Florida with his lover, Mark, having fled Chicago and Mark’s addictions to begin a new life on the Gulf Coast. Volunteering for the Tampa AIDS Alliance is just one part of that new beginning, and that’s how Dan meets his new buddy, Adam.

  Adam Schmidt is not at all what Dan expected. The guy is an original—witty, wry, and sarcastic with a fondness for a smart black dress, Barbra Streisand, and a good mai tai. Adam doesn’t let his imminent death get him down, even through a downward spiral that sees him thrown in jail.

  Each step of Adam’s journey teaches Dan new lessons about strength and resilience, but it’s Adam’s lover, Sullivan, to whom Dan feels an almost irresistible pull. Dan knows the attraction isn’t right, even after he dumps his cheating, drug-abusing boyfriend. But then Adam passes away, and it leaves Sullivan and Dan both alone to see if they can turn their love for Adam into something whole and real for each other.

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Chaser

  By Rick R. Reed

  Caden DeSarro is what they call a chubby chaser. He likes his guys with a few extra pounds on them. So when he meets Kevin Dodge in a bar bathroom, he can’t help but stare, even if he does make an ass of himself. As far as Caden is concerned, Kevin is physically perfect: a stocky bearded blond with a dick that’s just right. (They met in the bathroom—of course he looked!) But Caden gets tongue-tied and misses his chance.

  When Caden runs into Kevin one night on the El train, he figures it’s fate offering him a second shot. Caden manages to get invited back to Kevin’s place for a one-night stand that turns into the kind of relationship he’s dreamed about.

  But the course of true love never did run smooth, and Kevin and Caden’s romance is no exception. When Caden returns from a few weeks away on business, Kevin surprises him with a new and “improved” body—one that fits Caden’s shallow friend Bobby’s ideal, not Caden’s. Caden doesn’t know what to do, and his hesitation is just the opportunity Bobby was looking for. This isn’t the same Kevin he fell in love with… is it?

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Raining Men

  By Rick R. Reed

  The character you loved to hate in Chaser becomes the character you will simply love in Raining Men.

  It’s been raining men for most of Bobby Nelson’s adult life. Normally, he wouldn’t have it any other way, but lately something’s missing. Now, he wants the deluge to slow to a single special drop. But is it even possible for Bobby to find “the one” after endless years of hooking up?

  When Bobby’s father passes away, Bobby finally examines his rocky relationship with the man and how it might have contributed to his inability to find the love he yearns for. Guided by a sexy therapist, a Sex Addicts Anonymous group, a well-endowed Chihuahua named Johnny Wadd, and Bobby’s own cache of memories, Bobby takes a spiritual, sexual, and emotional journey to discover that life’s most satisfactory love connections lie in quality, not quantity. And when he’s ready to love not only himself but someone else, sex and love fit, at last, into one perfect package.

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Dignity Takes a Holiday

  By Rick R. Reed

  Pete Thickwhistle doesn’t live what one might call a charmed life. At age forty-seven, he’s a flamboyant gay man who believes no one knows he’s gay, still living at home with his harpy of a mother. Worse, he’s still a virgin, longing to find just the right man to make his life complete. Pete’s an upbeat kind of guy, yet he’s never learned that the answer to his motto “What could possibly go wrong?” is always: “Everything.”

  Pete’s road to love and happiness is full of potholes, yet he never tires of searching, despite job losses, weight battles, clothing faux pas, and disastrous vacations, parties, and dating debacles. Pete is the ultimate underdog living a televi
sion situation comedy, one named Dignity Takes a Holiday.

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Dinner at Home

  By Rick R. Reed

  It only takes a few days for Ollie D’Angelo to lose his boyfriend, his job, and his home. Instead of mourning what he doesn’t have, Ollie celebrates what he does: the freedom to pursue his real passion—cooking. He begins Dinner at Home, a home-catering business, and it takes off.

  Late one night, Ollie catches Hank Mellinger, a streetwise hood down on his luck, about to rob his car. Ollie soon discovers that appearances aren’t necessarily what they seem. Hank isn’t a criminal caught red-handed, but a hungry young man trying to make a life for himself and the four-year-old niece he’s trying desperately to take care of.

  Instead of calling the cops, Ollie offers Hank a job and a way to pull himself up by his bootstraps. Together, they discover they can really cook… and that their shared passion for food just might lead to a passion for each other.

  http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Homecoming

  By Rick R. Reed

  After losing his partner Toby, Chase faces a long, painful road back to life and love. At first, he doesn’t see how he can go on, but then Chase and Toby’s old friend Mike cajoles him into returning to Chicago for the annual International Mr. Leather Competition. There Chase revisits a world of hot, casual sex that he had forgotten existed, meets a friend who cares more for him than he ever realized, and discovers the possibility that he might yet find his way home.