Crash: Northwoods, Book 2

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Crash: Northwoods, Book 2 Page 16

by Grant C. Holland


  With some reluctance, Trent allowed Hal to borrow his car for the drive to Arrowhead Falls. Before leaving, he endured an interrogation from his campaign manager.

  “Are you confident that it’s only friends? How long will you be there? Will you send me a text message as soon as you leave to come back to Ely? Are you planning to meet any other people?”

  Hal delivered the answers quickly and succinctly. “Yes—an hour—yes—no.”

  Trent said, “When you get back, I want to go over the schedule for the next week and a half with a fine-toothed comb. That’s all we have left before the primary election. I know that it’s only a formality, but it might be the first test of enthusiasm for your campaign. The morning after the primary, we hit the homestretch and drive hard to the end.”

  “And then do I get to take a vacation?”

  “You get time off for the holidays—Thanksgiving and Christmas. Then we move you into Washington, D.C. Your life won’t slow down that much.”

  Trent insisted on a high five to celebrate the campaign so far. Hal forced himself into a smile and slapped the offered hand. “I’ll be back before you’ve figured out that I was gone.”

  It was only 8:30 a.m. when Hal arrived at the Lost Loon, but the popular coffee shop was already buzzing with activity. It was the peak of the busy summer season. Tables and chairs scattered around outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather, and customers used almost all of them. As he climbed out of the car, Hal slowly looked over each small group. He didn’t want to miss Gabe if he were already standing outside.

  As he finished examining the crowd, Hal spotted Gabe’s truck. He’d parked it in an alleyway alongside the Lost Loon’s property. Only part of the hood and the front grill were visible, but Hal identified it instantly.

  Indoors, the Lost Loon was even more crowded. After one customer bumped into Hal, he stepped to the side of the entrance before looking around. He jumped when he felt a startling tap on his shoulder.

  “It’s a good thing I’m not a pickpocket. You’d be an easy target since you’re so fixated on the crowd.”

  It was Gabe. Hearing the voice again made Hal feel warm deep inside. Gabe offered a hug, and Hal accepted. He didn’t squeeze quite as tight as the last few times because he worried about sliding down a steep slope into forbidden behavior.

  “I’ve got a table in the back. Why don’t you come with me? Then when you get settled in, I can order your coffee.”

  Gabe cut through the crowd like a warm knife through butter, and Hal followed in his wake. It was a colorful group of customers. Some wore casual shorts and t-shirts—others dressed in serious outdoor gear.

  As they approached a table tucked in a back corner, Hal stopped. Already seated were Brandon, Elle, and Levi. Gabe sensed that Hal was no longer following and turned back. “Is there something wrong?”

  “I agreed to coffee with you. I understood that as a solo event.”

  Gabe offered a friendly smile. “I said meet as friends, and that’s who these people are. I want you to be one, too.”

  “One of them doesn’t want to be around me.” Hal put his hands behind his back and didn’t budge when Gabe tugged at his elbow.

  “Brandon? Oh, I’ll make sure he behaves. He’s harmless. When the chips are down, he always has my back. Come on and join us. You said yourself that you wanted to put everything else on ‘pause.’ Maybe that’s a good idea, and we can get to know each other better without the pressure of, well—you know.”

  Hal took a half step back. “I don’t think so. There’s too much risk for me. I don’t trust your friend. He nearly caused a riot at my rally, and if he says one wrong thing here, this whole crowd might come after me.”

  Gabe began to nervously bounce back and forth from one foot to the other. “Oh, man, no, they wouldn’t do something like that here at the Loon. And by the way, Brandon didn’t start that fight; it was one of your—oh, damn, no—I mean it was a random troublemaker.”

  Hal narrowed his eyes. He heard Gabe’s comment as a defensive attack and felt the bitter taste of bile rising in the back of his throat. “One of my…what? Is that why you brought your friends? Were you worried I might slug you like one of my…my goons?”

  Gabe’s eyes opened wide. “Fuck, I didn’t say that right. Maybe we shouldn’t sit here with my friends. We can go outside and find a table. Why don’t we head to the counter and get you a coffee?”

  “And what will you tell them is the reason why? Is it because Hal’s scared of them or just that I’m not part of us? I’m part of them.” The tension and stress of the moment sent Hal into defensive autopilot mode. “I think you let the truth slip. To you, the troublemaker is one of mine. I might as well have incited him.”

  Gabe frowned and wrinkled his brow. “Oh, come on, Hal, don’t be like this. You know that I think you’re the best there is. That’s why this is all so hard for me.”

  “And it’s easy from my end?”

  Gabe reached out to put a hand on Hal’s shoulder, and he ducked it. The movement caused Gabe to stumble forward. He said, “Whoa. You’ve never pulled back from me before.”

  After the delay in Hal’s approach, Brandon, Elle, and Levi rose as a group from the table and walked up behind Gabe.

  Hal said, “Here they come. Should I worry? That one over your shoulder has a sneer on his face.”

  Gabe shoved his hands in his pockets, and the warm expression drained from his face. “Why don’t you just go, Hal. Meeting like this was a bad idea. I wondered if it was too early when I sent the text. I made a mistake. I assumed you’d want to be one of my friends, not one that I keep in a…a closet.”

  Hal’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Even worse, it came out of Gabe’s mouth. Hal’s entire image of Gabe crumbled before his eyes. He assumed that Gabe was finally someone in his life who didn’t judge. He thought Gabe understood how difficult it was to even take baby steps forward toward being the authentic Hal Brentwood, not a vacant machine controlled by others. He’d been right there to help along the way since the crash—until now.

  Hal couldn’t think of anything else to say beyond a single vicious word and hissed, “Bastard,” before turning for the door. He didn’t look back. There was nothing he could see in Arrowhead Falls without viewing it through the tainted lens of a political enemy. It was over. Gabe was in the rearview mirror, and the further away he got, the better everything else was bound to be.

  22

  Gabe

  Gabe shoved a tortilla chip deep into the bowl of queso. He’d settled into Elle’s living room for a relaxing evening. He knew that he would have to share his news at some point in the evening, but he was content for the moment to eat and chat.

  “It feels good to get back to an evening of gossiping about the blond one.”

  “If you don’t have something at the tip of your tongue, I’ve got a story,” said Elle.

  The chip snapped in Gabe’s mouth with a satisfying crunch. After chewing with a dramatic flair and swallowing the bite, he said, “No, go right ahead. I’ll save my rating for the end.”

  “Are we still scoring these from 1 to 10?”

  “Of course. Brandon’s Halloween costume still beats all of the stories. Shelly’s scream was the best, and he didn’t realize he was scaring off customers until halfway through the day.”

  “When he dressed as the wendigo? That was terrifying,” said Elle.

  “Brandon would be a truly frightening crazed cannibal. I don’t know where he found an image to copy, but it was an expert move—for everything but business.”

  Elle chuckled and swallowed down a mouthful of beer. “My story for tonight isn’t half as good, but it is classic Brandon. Have you seen his new shoes?”

  “The fire-engine-red sneakers?”

  “Those would be the ones.”

  Gabe sat at one end of Elle’s sofa and faced her as she rested against the opposite arm. He pulled his knees up close to his chest and made s
ure that he could still easily reach the queso on the coffee table. “Before you start, this dip is too awesome. I wanted you to know. You’ve outdone yourself, Miss Elle.”

  “Aww, thanks.” Elle rubbed a fist against her collarbone as a gesture of self-congratulation. She faced Gabe and mirrored his position.

  “Tell me this story about the sneakers. I’ll listen and eat while you share the details. I’ll try not to crunch too loud.”

  “He was so proud of himself. I beat him to the office in the morning, and I was already busy going over the previous month’s receipts when he walked in. I glanced up as usual and said, ‘Morning, Brandon. Coffee’s already made.’

  I didn’t hear any kind of response—not even a grunt—which is unusual. Suddenly, a moment after I looked back down, I heard a loud thud. I looked up to see a huge foot clad in a red shoe resting on my desk.”

  “He does like to get attention.” Gabe crunched his next chip with a smile.

  “So, I said, ‘Nice shoes.’ It wasn’t effusive enough. My bland comment wasn’t what he wanted to hear. In that high-pitched frustrated voice of his, he asked, ‘Is that all you can say? Nice shoes?’”

  “What did he want? Did he expect you to touch them and rub them like they were a religious object? Or did he want you to kiss his foot?”

  “Why would I do either of those? Maybe that was what he wanted. I stared at a lower leg covered in fuzzy blond hair above a foot jammed into a sneaker. I said, ‘It’s not like their dancing shoes or something. I don’t see any taps on the bottom.’”

  “Uh, oh. I think I see what’s coming.”

  Elle grinned as she told the next part of the story. “He asked, ‘Are you sure?’ Then he pulled the foot down, and he started to dance. Right there in the office.’”

  “Brandon? He’s a horrible dancer. He doesn’t know how to find the beat.”

  “I didn’t say his dancing was good, but the story gets better.”

  Gabe crunched on another chip and leaned forward. He was eager to hear what happened next.

  “Brandon was there with his eyes closed, stumbling around in something he called a dance. It looked more like he was trying to shake off some kind of disease. While he lost himself in his antics, I saw a group of three customers walk through the door behind him. So he wouldn’t catch on right away, I held a finger to my lips to encourage them to stay quiet.”

  Gabe slapped his knee. “That’s hilarious. I couldn’t get Brandon to go out dancing anywhere because he knew how bad he was. He didn’t want anyone to see him.”

  “Anyway, it was two guys and a girl. One of the men was the best. He played right along. He leaned in close to Brandon’s ear and asked, ‘Hey, can we cut in?’”

  “Oh, my God. What did he do?”

  “I heard a gasp, and Brandon stopped and opened his eyes. He was frantic and suddenly turned around. For one of the rare times in my life, I heard Brandon trip over his words. Finally, he said, ‘Yes, of course.’”

  “That’s so good. I wish you’d recorded it on video. We could have posted it online. Honestly, it might be good advertising for Arrowhead Adventurers.”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have surreptitiously recorded it with my phone. When Brandon turned back toward me, his face was beet red up to his hairline.”

  Gabe leaned back and swallowed a mouthful of beer. “Good old Brandon. Sometimes he’s at his funniest when he least means it.”

  “And he followed up with a sweet comment about you after the customers left.”

  “About me? What did I have to do with that story?”

  “Brandon said that he wished he had half of your dancing talent. If he did, he thought the situation wouldn’t have been embarrassing.”

  “Aww, that is pretty sweet of him. Let’s take a commercial break from our Brandon stories. How’s Nate these days? I’m curious about when he lived down in the cities. You mentioned that he took you to Minneapolis to see where he used to live. I don’t know whether you ever told me about his neighborhood.”

  Elle eagerly jumped into sharing information about her boyfriend. “His part of the city was cool. It’s downtown close to the river. He lived in a loft, and it was in one of several industrial buildings converted to housing.”

  “That’s the kind of thing that’s hard to find up here,” said Gabe. “Maybe they have something like it in Duluth. I think I’d like that kind of loft. Did it have high ceilings?”

  “He told me they were about twelve feet high with exposed brick walls. The buildings have those huge multi-paned windows that old factories had. The view must be amazing. The condos and apartments in the old mills look over the river and the footbridge.”

  “Are there good bars and restaurants around there?”

  Elle said, “I think you could fit all that Ely offers in food and drink right in that one neighborhood. From there, you can ride the rail system or drive to a bunch of other places in the city. I understand why he liked it there.”

  “Did it make you want to move?”

  Elle replied to the question in a firm tone. “Not at all. I love it up here in the woods. I think that life down there would be almost overwhelming. I went to a small college as an undergraduate, and then I transferred to a big state school for graduate school. I only lasted one year in that environment.”

  “You left?”

  “I did,” said Elle. “I don’t usually talk about that part of my life. I was miserable. I felt crushed beneath the weight of thousands of other people. Here in the Falls, I can get to know a select group very well. Sometimes I think Nate feels a little withdrawal, and he misses the city. Fortunately, he says he’s pretty happy up here. His boss gives him a lot of freedom to design the food for the resort. He’d have to toil long hours beneath someone else before he’d have the resources to be in charge in the city.”

  “I don’t know.” Gabe let out a long, slow sigh. “I think the city has a lot of advantages. There’s the Twins and the Vikings. You can eat food from any part of the world down there. Think about shopping for clothes. It doesn’t take three years for the latest fashions to reach Minneapolis.”

  Elle chuckled. “Now that’s a little unfair to the shops here. Have you seen what Sara Beth stocks in her little boutique? It’s all out of my price range, but she has cute sundresses from the West Coast.”

  “But who wears them? I think most of the women I see around here wear the same clothes as men. I see a lot of them in plaid flannel or camouflage.”

  Elle pointed at herself and laughed. “I guess you mean jeans and t-shirt chic, but since when did you care about women’s clothes?”

  “I liked the times I went shopping with you to buy real dresses. You have a fantastic body. They all fit well on you.”

  “Better than on you.”

  Gabe kicked his feet toward Elle’s on the opposite end of the couch. “You get a foot slap for that.”

  Elle reached up and brushed her hair off her forehead. “Now, I only need to get Nate to take me somewhere elegant so that I can dress up.”

  “It will happen. You know that he’s head over heels for you.”

  Elle swallowed another mouthful of beer and changed the subject. “You seem a little different tonight than you’ve been.”

  “Different? How so?”

  “You’re more relaxed. I like it. You’ve brought back the normal bursts of easy laughter, but why did you ask so much about Nate and Minneapolis? I was happy to share.”

  Gabe paused for several seconds before he said, “Nothing.”

  The gap was too long for Elle to let it go by unnoticed. “There’s something. Now, you have to share. That’s what the rules say. You can’t tease a story and then keep it secret.”

  “I teased? I was silent.”

  “And your silence is a tease. There’s something there.” Elle reached out and grabbed one ankle. She lowered her opposite hand with wiggling fingers. That was enough to make Gabe laugh. She didn’t have to touch his
feet to tickle him.

  “Okay, okay, stop! I’ll tell you. Just stop doing that!”

  “I didn’t do anything but grab your ankle.”

  Gabe gasped for breath. “I know, but that’s enough. I’m vulnerable, and you prey on that. I’m not sure that’s fair.”

  “You make it so easy. Now spill the story.”

  “You don’t want to hear it. Trust me.”

  “Try me.” Elle leaned forward.

  “I applied for a job in St. Paul.”

  Silence reigned in the room again. Elle slowly set her beer bottle on the coffee table but kept her eyes on Gabe.

  “Say something,” demanded Gabe. “You know that I hate it when nobody talks.”

  “I suppose there’s an obvious first question. Why?”

  “I guess I have multiple reasons. One of those I learned from this experience with Hal. At least I sorted it out the morning after hell night.”

  “Hell night?”

  Gabe looked down for a moment before he continued his story. “It was ugly. After the altercation at the Loon, I went home and slept all afternoon. In the evening, I threw things.”

  “I hope you didn’t break any important stuff.”

  Gabe smirked. “Mr. Neat Freak? You might have laughed. I spent half of my tantrum walking around the apartment and looking for objects that were soft enough to throw. It had to be something I could hurl that wouldn’t break or damage something else. I was throwing washcloths and dish sponges.”

  Elle burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry. You’re too funny, Gabe. Even when it’s a horrible story.”

  “It was awful. I agree. Fortunately, the next morning—after I slept about ten hours—everything looked much better than the night before. I decided that I need to be somewhere with more opportunities. I invested far too much in Brandon and then Hal. I need to go somewhere with a wide selection of gay guys, and I need to try dating a few of them before I settle on one.”

 

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