Seeking Enrique

by Austin Bates

  “They’re gonna come show you the place?” Rick asked.

  “Yep. Do you want to hang out and walk through it with me?”

  “I don’t know,” Rick shrugged. “I mean I’ve seen it once before.”

  “Do you remember much of it?”

  “Just that it was too big for just me.”

  “Might be worth another look, just in case.”

  “Just in case…?”

  “Just in case you wind up spending a lot of time there,” Jules backtracked quickly.

  “Mhm. Alright, well, I’ve got nothing better to do today,” Rick lied.

  In actuality, he’d had a flash of genius while they were eating, and he had several hours of revisions ahead of him. Usually he would be consumed by that, but lately it had been difficult to focus on his stories, and writing was feeling more like work than it usually did. Before the pregnancy, writing was just an extension of his consciousness. He’d once described his work as daydreaming while his fingers moved, and usually that was how it worked. Since the baby, though, he’d struggled to find the right words to express the concepts in his mind, and spent more time with the dictionary and thesaurus than he spent actually writing.

  An old man pulled up a few minutes later, driving a toaster-shaped car that he exited slowly and creakily on his arrival.

  “Hello there!” he said in a booming voice that belied his advanced age. “Joe Crocker. Which one of you is Mr. Golias?”

  “Call me Jules,” he said, extending his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. This is my friend Rick.”

  “Hey there, Rick, good to know you. Come on then, I’ll show you the place. Hasn’t been used in nearly ten years. Nobody wants it cause it’s too far from the city or it’s too big, or it’s prone to flooding. Not the house, you know, but that meadow there. We get a winter like this last one and it turns into a lake for three months. I always thought it was pretty, but you know, people come up here wanting to expand, they want to build their tacky little gated communities and golf courses and whatnot, and the land’s no good for that. Rice paddies, that’s what the meadow used to be. Bet you could still find some out there if you had a mind to look. My wife and I bought the place when we were barely out of our teens, and it held us well and proper for more’n forty years. Gaggle of kids and grandkids wearin’ the place downright comfortable.”

  “Why’d you move out?” Rick asked.

  “Well, you know, the kids moved out, my wife passed on, and it just didn’t make sense for me to keep it anymore. I live in the guest house on my son’s property now, it’s cozy. Keeps me close to family and I don’t have to futz with the plumbing. Getting a little long in the ears for managing a house, especially an old one. Now don’t let me scare you off, the structure’s solid, the pipes and wires are all new, roof’s in good condition. But it’s a big place, you know, and an old one. It needs a strong back and a good hearty pair of hands to keep it in shape.”

  They walked up the wide, shallow steps to the long, deep porch. It creaked indignantly under their weight, and Jules shot Joe a concerned look.

  “Oh, she bitches a little, but she won’t break,” Joe chuckled as he unlocked the door.

  He led them inside to a cute little coat room that opened onto a small landing. To their right was a long room that looked out over the front lawn. To their left, stairs led to the second floor. In front of them, three steps led down into a larger living space.

  “We used this as the dining room,” Joe said, gesturing to their right. “The kitchen’s just beyond it, through that door. Down there’s the living room, and the study’s around the corner there. Powder room is in the study. Upstairs we’ve got four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and the stairs to the attic; in the kitchen, there’s a laundry room, and stairs to the basement. My old legs are tired of walking them, so if you don’t mind I’ll just sit here a while and let you explore.”

  “Sounds good,” Jules grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Crocker.”

  “If you’re Jules, I’m Joe,” he said, lowering himself onto the window seat. “Now off with you, go fall in love with the place.”

  Jules did, in fact, fall in love. The house was absolutely charming. Built-in bookcases in every room caught his attention, and he glanced at Rick to see if they struck him the same way. The gleam in his eye suggested they had. The hardwood floors were in good shape; though, as Joe had mentioned, high-traffic areas had been worn in comfortably. A stone patio outside the study leant an air of sophistication to the house, as did the solid oak running boards and trimmings. The ceiling had dodged the unfortunate cream-colored popcorn look, instead reflecting the solid wood of the floors or the antique-looking colors of the rooms.

  The basement was finished and held several small rooms and a tiny half bath; useful for a family full of kids and grandkids, though a bit excessive for a single man. But Jules was busily planning for a future he could only hope to have, so he gladly accepted the extra space. After his first pass through the house, he was utterly enamored. After his second, he was ready to pay on the spot.

  “What’s the asking price?” he asked Joe.

  “Oh, let’s see. Thing is, you know, I’ve owned it free and clear for… going on thirty-five years now. Real estate didn’t cost as much back then. Property tax on this place is less’n six hundred a year. I was asking a hundred thousand for it, but I can’t do anything with that kind of money. Haven’t got the time. The kids don’t need it, they all went on and got themselves moneyed.” Joe sighed wistfully and gazed out the window.

  Rick stepped toward the old man and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Joe… is there anything you’ve always wanted to do, but just never had the time or the money?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Joe said with a grin. “I wanted to rent a room at the Playboy mansion. Take a cruise around the world and collect dirt from every country. Lie on a beach in Tahiti, getting waited on by beautiful women. Lauri and I never took vacations, you know. Didn’t have the time. School, marriage, parenting, work, work, work… and then it was over.” He got that wistful look again, and Rick squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

  “Then I have a suggestion. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Always open to suggestions, kid.”

  “I think you should sell it for everything it’s worth and spend the money doing all those things you never got to do.”

  “You know,” Joe said thoughtfully. “That’s not a bad idea. You’ve got a good head, kid. I’ve got the paperwork out in my truck. What do you say we negotiate this deal over a couple beers? I’ve got this ache in my hip, goes off at beer thirty every day.”

  “Sounds good,” Jules laughed. “Would you like to join us, Rick?”

  “No,” Rick said quickly. “Thanks. Trying to avoid being around the stuff. I’ll just head home. See you.”

  “I’ll call you later,” Jules told him.

  “I might not pick up.”

  “That’s okay.”

  Rick shot him a warm smile and trotted off in the direction of the dock. Jules watched him go with mixed feelings; on the one hand, he felt a little better about them. He had hope now that they might just be okay, assuming he didn’t go and do something stupid again. On the other hand, he really didn’t like the idea of Rick, pregnant and vulnerable, being alone in the middle of nowhere. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Rick now had a phone; which was something that Jules was still lacking. He made a mental note to solve that problem before he left town.

  Joe drove him to the one bar in town, telling him stories about his kids and grandkids the whole way. He had stories for days about that old house. He was obviously still in love with the place and seemed to be having trouble with the idea of letting go of all of those memories; because of that, Jules let him talk.

  They talked for hours over beer before the topic of paperwork came around again. Jules was beginning to like the old man. He reminded Jules of his lecherous great-uncle Scott, who would sprinkle dirty jokes among his beni
gn stories just to get a rise out of the women in the family. Jules had always found it hysterical growing up, though as he reached adulthood he’d come to realize that Scott was really just trapped in adolescence and would routinely go from zero to annoying in two-point-five-seconds. Joe was like a toned-down, tolerable version of Scott, and talking to him made Jules feel vaguely nostalgic, almost homesick for his childhood.

  He noticed Joe begin to flag and decided he would need to direct the conversation from there.

  “So about those papers,” he said. “Let’s fund your bucket list.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Two months had passed—much longer than Jules had estimated, but moving cross-country and dissolving his partnership with Ernest had taken time. In the beginning, Jules had called Rick every couple of days. He hadn’t answered, but he would send a text an hour or two later telling Jules that everything was fine. It wasn’t an ideal compromise, but Jules had learned to live with it. Now he was finally back in town.

  His first purchase, after furniture and essentials, had been a speedboat. It had taken him a couple of days to learn how to use it, and when he had mastered it satisfactorily, his first impulse had been to rush to Rick’s place. Instead, he texted him.

  I’m back in town. Can I come over?

  He didn’t get a response right away. He thought back to the last time he’d heard from Rick, and realized that it had been more than a week since they’d spoken at all. He paced the dock for twenty minutes before finally giving in and calling him.

  “Something’s wrong,” Rick answered.

  That was all Jules needed. He leapt into his boat and raced to Rick’s place, nearly smashing into the wall before finding the camouflaged opening. His little yellow boat bounced over the water as he pushed it to the max and splashed an impressive wave over the houseboat’s deck when he spun it around to tie it on.

  “Rick!” he shouted, launching himself out of the boat in a single movement.

  There was no answer. He ran around to the door and stepped inside. His eyes refused to adjust as quickly as he wanted them to, and he blinked furiously, forcing them to cooperate. When they did, he saw Rick on the floor, doubled over in pain.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Don’t know,” Rick gasped. “Sharp pain. Hurts. Too much. Can’t walk.”

  “Alright, honey, I’ve got you,” Jules said.

  He tucked an arm under Rick’s shoulders and hauled him to his feet. A small puddle of blood on the floor made his heart race, but he kept his tone even for Rick’s sake.

  “How long ago did the pain start?” he asked as he walked Rick out of the boat.

  “Um… last night,” Rick whimpered. “Wasn’t this bad at first. Then I couldn’t remember who to call or what to do when it got bad.”

  “Okay, it’s alright now,” Jules said as he settled Rick into the boat. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”

  “Urgent care clinic in town,” Rick groaned. “Closer than the hospital.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll go. Hang on.”

  He raced through the tunnel and out the other side. He docked the boat at his property and helped Rick into his car. He briefly considered covering the seat with something (it was lambskin, after all), but decided they didn’t have time. Rick was crying in pain, and Jules was running on adrenaline. He sped to the urgent care frantically, breaking every speed limit on the way there. The whole journey took less than thirty minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

  He carried Rick into the waiting room, bellowing for help. Two orderlies materialized with a bed to relieve him. A doctor was at his elbow in moments, firing questions.

  “How far along is he? When did this start? Are you the father?”

  “Yes… last night, it started last night, he’s six months along.”

  “Six months, six months, that doesn’t help me, how many weeks?”

  “I… I don’t know.”

  “Rick,” the doctor barked, slapping Rick’s face lightly.

  Rick’s eyes rolled in his head and he focused blurrily on the doctor’s face.

  “How many weeks?” the doctor repeated.

  “Twenty-seven,” Rick gasped. “Oh god, it hurts!”

  “Close enough,” the doctor said grimly. “Get him back there, we’re going to have a baby.”

  “What?” Jules cried, grabbing for Rick’s hand.

  “You! Stay out here, I do not have time for shenanigans!” The doctor ran behind the bed as the orderlies wheeled Rick away. The last thing Jules heard before the doors slammed shut was Rick calling his name. Jules cursed and punched a wall, regretting it instantly when his knuckles met solid concrete.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a prim receptionist addressed him. “This is going to take a while, and you’re disturbing our patients. I suggest you take a walk.”

  It wasn’t as much a suggestion as an order, and Jules didn’t trust himself to argue like an adult, so he left. He walked around the block and back into the waiting room, demanding updates. She only shook her head at him, and he left again.

  The wait was absolutely interminable. He walked the streets for three hours before he could trust himself to stay calm inside, and it was another three hours after that before he had any news. The doctor popped his head out of the door and gestured Jules over.

  “What’s going on?” Jules asked frantically.

  “We had to call a surgeon, which is why it took so long,” the doctor told him. “Rick and the baby are both going to be okay. They’re recovering now, you’ll be able to see them soon.”

  “The baby… was born? It’s too early,” Jules said dumbly.

  “Yes, yes it was. Fortunately Rick held on long enough for the baby’s lungs to develop. Thank the steroids.”

  “Steroids?”

  “Yeah, you know, those things he’s been injecting every night? Pay attention, son.”

  “I… I didn’t know,” Jules admitted.

  Rage and shame battled for dominance inside his chest. Rick should have told him.

  “Now, we got lucky this time,” the doctor was saying. “But Rick really shouldn’t have born children at all. His frame is entirely too small. We eliminated the possibility during surgery… it was unavoidable, unfortunately… so if the two of you ever get a bug up your ass to give that kid a sibling, that’s going to be all you.”

  “Me.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll let Annie know when you can see them. Sit tight and don’t punch anything.”

  Jules really wanted to punch something. Instead he read a magazine. He read the same page half a dozen times without absorbing a single word and finally put it down. Anxiously, he picked it up again and went through the same routine. Finally, after about a million years, Annie called him over.

  “You can go back now,” she told him primly. “Straight back, second right, room fourteen. Can you remember that?”

  “Second right, room fourteen.”

  She pushed a button and the doors swung open. It was all Jules could do to keep from racing through the halls. He pushed his way into Rick’s room and was immediately shushed by a nurse before he could say anything. Rick looked drawn and pale, as white as the pillow he rested on. A tiny white bundle lay on his chest. Jules crept around the bed, his heart beat loudly in his ears. He knelt beside the bed to look at the tiny face.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed. “It’s so small!”

  “You’d be small too if you were thirteen weeks early,” Rick muttered.

  Jules chuckled softly.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, touching Rick’s face.

  “Like I’ve just been gutted,” Rick groaned.

  “Well, I mean….”

  “Yeah, yeah. He’s beautiful, though, isn’t he?”

  “It’s a boy?” Jules whispered.

  “It’s a boy,” Rick confirmed with a tired smile. “They’re sending an ambulance to take us to the hospital. They want to keep him in the NICU for a few days.”


  “Why? Is he okay? Why isn’t he in a machine or something now?”

  “Settle down,” Rick sighed. “He’s okay, but he’s extremely early. They just want to make sure there’s nothing wrong with him before they send him home. He isn’t in a machine because his lungs are working just fine. He doesn’t want to eat, though, which is going to be a problem.”

  “Just like his daddy,” Jules teased. “Why didn’t you tell me, Rick?”

  “Because you’d worry,” Rick said, accurately. “I didn’t want you to worry about me any more than you already were. Besides, we had it under control.”

  “Clearly,” Jules said wryly.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you. Maybe… no, never mind.”

  “What?”

  Rick sighed heavily and rubbed the baby’s tiny back.

  “Maybe it would be better… now that you’re here… since I’m all chopped up and the baby’s so fragile, maybe it would be better if you were closer. Or if I was closer. For a little while, doesn’t have to be forever or anything, I just mean… I mean, it was such a close call, the doctor said another hour and he wouldn’t have been able to save us and that terrifies me, it was so close to being the end of everything, and there was a time when I would have been alright with oblivion but I’m really not anymore, and I really like the way you cook and I miss the cabin and I just want things to….”

  Jules interrupted him with a firm kiss.

  “I’m sorry,” he said huskily, pulling away. “Did that cross a line?”

  Rick shook his head with stars in his eyes. Jules leaned down and kissed him again, tenderly.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, you and the baby can move in with me. Why do you think I bought such a big house?” Jules grinned happily. “And I’m not insisting on forever… but the invitation is always on the table. With four bedrooms and that big old basement and attic, you can have your choice of offices. Hell, you can migrate if you want to, take all the space you need. We’ll make it work.”

  “Okay,” Rick said with a smile. “But you have to promise me something.”