by Alexa Land
“But I admire you, Sawyer. I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what it means to be a man, for obvious reasons. I’m also trying to find a balance between who I was and who I’ll become,” he said, glancing at me from beneath his hair. “You’re strong and tough, but you’re also not afraid to let a bit of vulnerability show through. I think that’s a beautiful thing about you, and it’s something I aspire to.”
“I admire you, too. Not only are you focused, scary-smart and a hell of a nice guy, you’re also one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
“You think I’m strong?”
“I know you are.” He smiled shyly before turning to the table saw and cutting a floor board exactly like I’d shown him.
Alastair joined us a few minutes later. He leaned over a stack of lumber and kissed me, and I asked, “How’d the walk-through go?”
He loosened his pale blue tie as he said, “Quite well. The seismic retrofitting had all been done to code, confirming our initial inspection. My lead structural engineer still thinks the additional reinforcements I’ve requested are overkill, but I’m proceeding anyway. This isn’t the time to cheap out, as they say. We need this to be a safe place for our kids, in every sense of the word.”
I touched his cheek and told him, “You’re a wonderful man, Alastair.”
“I’m just a bloke trying to do the right thing.”
“You’re so much more than that.” I kissed him again, and when I straightened up, I said, “Sorry, I got you dirty,” as I indicated a smudge on his cheek. “You know, you and I look like we’re from different planets right now. Yours is way more posh and populated primarily by tailors and dry cleaners.”
“But you know when we come back here tomorrow, I’ll be wearing jeans and rolling up my sleeves just like everyone else. The suit’s just for those times when I need to come across as something other than a college student.”
“You totally pull it off. When I put on a suit, I just look like a high school football player on his way to the winter formal.”
“Oh no, that’s most definitely not what you look like in a suit,” he said with a wide grin, as his gaze strayed down my body.
I chuckled at that. “The only time you ever see me in one is when I’m about to strip down to lingerie in front of a couple hundred people, so granted, your perspective might be slightly skewed.”
“Entirely possible.”
He’d circled the pile of wood and started to reach for me, but I said, “Hold that thought while I go and change. You might not care what hugging me would do to your outfit, but I do.”
I started to turn from him, but he grabbed my arm, pulled me back to him, and kissed me deeply as he ran his hand down my back. When we broke apart, he looked up at me with amusement in his eyes and said, “My dry cleaner is a bloody alchemist. There’s nothing we can do to this suit that he can’t remedy. I once wore it to the observatory after a meeting with the president of the university and accidentally sat on a forgotten plate of Rollie’s macho nachos. If the dry cleaner could remedy that, he can certainly handle a bit of construction dust.”
“Well, in that case.” I pulled him against me and kissed him passionately.
“Now that’s what I like to see!” We glanced around at the sound of Nana’s voice, and after a moment I realized she was poking her head out of the hole in the ceiling beside one of the brass poles. “Don’t stop on my account, boys!”
My mouth fell open as the tiny octogenarian hoisted up her slim-fitting wool skirt, wound her legs around the pole and slid down. The skirt rode up and got turned inside-out on the way down, so she arrived on the ground level with her pantyhose and a racy pair of red bikini underwear on full display. The skirt engulfed her head and torso like a condom, and she held her arms straight up and spun around as she exclaimed, “What the hell happened? Is this one of them wardrobe malfunctions? I feel like I’m in one of those things we put on Tom Selleck to keep him from licking his nuts!”
I fought back a laugh as Alastair and I exchanged baffled looks. Meanwhile, Darwin rushed to Nana’s aid and told us, “Tom Selleck is the name of Nana’s dog. He had to be put in a plastic cone recently when he humped something he shouldn’t have and needed stitches. He’s fixed, by the way, so technically, he doesn’t have nuts. But that doesn’t seem to have curbed his sex drive in the slightest.”
“Morbid curiosity is forcing me to ask this question,” Alastair said. “With what exactly did he try to procreate?”
“A big crab. We have a few as pets in the backyard, and one got out of its enclosure. I don’t know what Tommy was thinking. He didn’t even have it by the right end!”
“Pet crabs?” I asked.
“Long story.” Darwin hesitated before gingerly grabbing the skirt’s hem and yanking it down, so it once again reached Nana’s calves.
“Thanks sweet pea,” she told him, smoothing her white hair, which was up in a bun. “You’re a peach. Want to go out and do some politics with me tonight? You too, Sawyer and Alastair. I could use some backup and a fast car, just in case my plans go awry and I need to make a break for it.”
“Um…define do some politics, Nana,” Darwin said.
“Well see, my neighbor, that red-faced blowhard Humpington across the street, has decided to run for mayor. He’s a homophobic yahoo with a giant ego and a tiny brain, and no way should he be trusted with any decision beyond whether to buy his condoms in extra-small, elfin, or petite. My grandson Dante tells me it’s illegal to tamper with Humpington’s campaign posters and made me promise I’d leave them alone. There’s no rule that says I can’t put up my own signs, though.”
Darwin asked, “But isn’t it kind of early for a covert operation? It’s barely eight p.m.”
“When you skulk around doing shit in the middle of the night, that’s when people get suspicious,” Nana told him. “Here’s what you do when you want to get away with something: act like what you’re doing is perfectly normal and you have every right to be there. We’re just out putting up some campaign posters. Nothing to see here. I obviously don’t want to attract the attention of Humpington’s minions, but we don’t have to go deep cover, either.”
“Good point. And I’m in, of course,” Darwin said.
Alastair’s eyes lit up. “Count me in as well! A bit of civil disobedience sounds like a fantastic way to spend an evening.”
From somewhere nearby, Roger asked, “What are you up to, Gromit?” A moment later, he slid down one of the fire poles, put his hands on his hips, and shot his friend a look. He’d volunteered to help with painting, and even though he’d been working all day, the white coveralls he wore were pristine.
“You’ll see, since I know you’ll never agree to sit this one out,” Alastair told him.
“Speaking of sitting it out, my hubby’s gonna be sad he missed this,” Nana said. “He’s in New York helping his friend Ignacio, who’s having an art show. I’m sure I’ll think of some more fun for us when he gets back, though.”
Nana retrieved her purse while I quickly swapped out my T-shirt for a clean one. As we followed her to the back door, Darwin said, “We have to swing by and pick up my boyfriend. Josh can’t miss this! He’s studying for finals tonight, but I’m sure he could use a break.”
“Miss what, exactly?” Roger wanted to know.
“We’re just putting up a few campaign posters for the upcoming election,” Alastair said, trying and failing to suppress a grin.
Roger frowned at him. “Why don’t I believe you, Gromit?”
Nana told Darwin, “Be sure Josh doesn’t say anything to his dads. You know I love my grandson Vincent and his sweet husband Trevor, but I don’t think they’d be onboard with this plan of mine. Plus, they might go blabbing to my grandson Dante, and he’s definitely a buzzkill.”
We stopped by the back door, and I picked up a cardboard carton for Nana that was maybe eight inches thick and three feet square. Alastair grabbed a bag containing wooden pickets, tape, and va
rious other supplies, and said, “If I’m driving the getaway car, I hope that box fits in the boot. Between all of us and Josh, it’s going to be a bit cramped.”
“I could call Jessie and ask him to bring the limo,” Nana said, “but since it’s painted with a big rainbow, Humpington will know it’s me if any of his minions spot it. Not that I care about pissing him off, I can take the heat! But I’d rather remain in stealth mode for as long as possible, just to rattle his cage.”
Alastair told her, “We’ll make it work. May I ask what he did to anger you, Nana?”
“The jackass lives across the street from me, like I said, and we got a long history. First, he stole a gay pride flag from the front of my house. Later on, he removed some dick balloons from my porch, because the man is cockphobic. But the thing I absolutely cannot forgive him for is the hateful comments he made to my face a few days ago, about someone I love.” She glanced at Darwin, then quickly looked away. He was texting and didn’t notice. Nana added, “I already knew Humpington was a hateful person, and that just confirmed it. I’m not going to stand by and let a bigot run our city!”
“Let’s do this,” I said, and we headed for Alastsair’s Acura.
Roger insisted on driving, and Nana rode shotgun. That meant Alastair and I were stuffed in the less-than-spacious backseat with Darwin (who for some reason had decided to keep wearing his yellow hardhat). I wasn’t complaining. When I put my arm around Alastair’s shoulders, he snuggled even closer to me and gave me the sweetest smile.
We drove across town to Trevor and Vincent’s place, and their son Josh met us out front. I glanced up at the house and grinned, remembering that night a month ago when Alastair came into my life. My whole world had transformed completely since then. The biggest change was that I was truly happy, which had never really been the case before. I nuzzled his shoulder, and when Alastair climbed onto my lap to make room for our newcomer, I wrapped my arms around him.
“I told my dads I had to help Nana with a project,” Josh said as he squeezed into the backseat. “They assumed I meant the firehouse. It should be noted that I didn’t actually lie to them.” Josh looked around at all of us and grinned. “Interesting choice of outfits on pretty much everyone’s part. You’re basically a cop away from forming a Village People tribute band. And hey, one might be added to the mix before this night is through.”
As we pulled away from the curb, Alastair ran his fingers through my short hair and kissed me before curling up in my arms. “We need another getaway,” he told me. “How about Seattle? It’s near the top of my list. We could fly up on Saturday night, after you finish your shift at the club.”
I said, “Sounds fun. My friends I told you about, the ones who moonlight as drag queens, have been up there working for the last month. We could have dinner with them, and in the process, we might actually end up seeing one of the places we visit.” After San Diego, we’d spent a couple days in New York City, then two more in Chicago. For the most part, we’d spent those trips in our hotel rooms, alternately having sex and talking for hours. In other words, they were absolutely perfect vacations.
“We see all the places we visit,” Alastair said. “We had lovely views of New York’s and Chicago’s skylines from our beds.”
“Can’t argue with that.” I held him to me and my lips met his. Kissing Alastair was one of life’s most perfect experiences. I let myself get swept up in the warmth, the pleasure, his sweet taste, as everything else fell away.
“Nobody would fault me if I turned a garden hose on you two. Clearly, I’ve been left with no other alternatives.” Roger’s voice startled us, and we both sat up a bit and looked around.
We’d failed to notice that the car had been parked on a busy street. Our companions stood on the sidewalk, peering at us through the open door. “We should’ve just let them go at it,” Nana said. “I think they’re adorable.”
“They can take a break from the tonsil hockey, right now we’ve got a job to do.” Roger headed around to the back of the car, and we tumbled out and followed him.
The big box jutted from the open trunk. I was surprised it was still there, since all that held it in place was a flimsy bungee cord. While Roger took out a pocketknife and slit the cardboard, I looked around us. No fewer than half a dozen signs for Nana’s arch enemy dotted the intersection. It turned out his name was actually Richard Huntington, despite what Nana called him.
His slick, obviously expensive signs were red, white and blue, and they featured a picture of a bald eagle and a tacky portrait of the candidate. His photo was so retouched that he looked like he was made of plastic, but there wasn’t enough photoshopping in all the world to make his smarmy grin look sincere. My dislike for him instantly multiplied. There were a few other campaign signs around the intersection as well, even though it was early in the election season, and they were modest by comparison. It was clear Huntington’s strategy was to win by plastering the city and outspending every other candidate.
Alastair beamed at me as he held up a sign, and I had to chuckle. Nana had printed up a totally unretouched and not at all flattering picture of a yelling and red-faced Huntington with his toupee flapping in the breeze, under the slogan ‘Let’s All Lick Dick’. I liked her style.
After we put up a poster beside each of his, Nana stepped back and admired her handiwork. “I know his minions are just gonna tear ‘em right down, but I have a feeling they’ll live on anyway.” Across the intersection, a group of pedestrians were laughing and taking pictures of our signs with their phones.
We worked our way around town for the next couple hours. Sure enough, by the time we backtracked to that original intersection, all our posters were gone. “They’re showing up on the internet,” Josh said with a grin as he scrolled on his phone. He paused to read something, then said, “Turns out, Huntington is hosting a big fundraiser downtown tonight. It’s in the George Washington Ballroom of the Hotel Liberty. I can only assume he stuffed it with bald eagles to bring the ‘Merica theme home. Hey, we should put up some posters out front.”
Nana clapped her hands. “That’s exactly what we need to do! We’ll line the street! Everywhere you look, nothing but Dick, Dick, Dick! Humpington’s going to bust a nut!”
I fought back a laugh and said, “Um, do you know what that expression means, Nana?”
“Sure! It’s like, flip your lid. It means he’ll be really upset,” she said. I couldn’t quite make myself explain its actual definition to her. Alastair just chuckled, pulled out his phone and started searching for something. By the glint in his eye, I knew he was up to something, but I decided to be surprised instead of asking about it.
When we arrived at the hotel, Nana decided she needed to sneak in and take a look at the fundraiser, and Alastair muttered, “Knew it.”
Roger frowned as Nana leapt from the car, and he turned to us and said, “You lot go after her, make sure she doesn’t do anything that’ll wind ‘er up in the slammer. I can’t park in this red zone, so I’ll move the car, then start on the posters.” Darwin and Josh were right behind Nana, and Alastair and I followed them.
The fundraiser was being held on the top floor of the lavish hotel. Nana had made a beeline for the elevators and was immediately intercepted by security. By the time we caught up with her, the three guards where just about to haul her out of the building, and she was kicking up a fuss.
Alastair stepped in and handed one of the men his ID and a business card as he said, “Apologies, lads. Gran forgot to stop off at the front desk for our keys. Be a dear and fetch them for her, would you?” Despite being rumpled and covered in dust, Alastair exuded confidence, and after a moment, the scowling guard walked over to the desk and gave the clerk the card and identification.
Less than a minute later, the desk clerk literally ran over to us. She began ass-kissing and apologizing like nobody’s business as she handed Alastair a pair of keys and his ID. He thanked her and said, “My colleague Roger Foster will be joining us in a few
minutes. You’ll recognize him because he’s wearing a pair of white coveralls. Bit eccentric, that one. Do make sure he’s allowed through without incident, will you?” The clerk assured him they would.
We stepped onto the elevator and the doors slid shut. As Alastair used the key to access the top floor, Josh asked, “Okay, so how did you manage that?”
“I reserved the presidential suite online on the way over here. I’ve been to functions at this hotel before, so I knew they don’t let you on the lift without either a room key or an invitation to an event.”
While he fastened the top button of his white shirt, straightened his tie and dusted off his suit jacket, I said, “Fuck it, I’m not even going to tuck in my shirt. Not like I stand a chance in hell of blending in anyway.” I did turn to check my reflection in the mirrored wall and grinned when I realized I was wearing a T-shirt from the Indian Motorcycle Company. That made Josh’s earlier Village People comment even funnier, and when I chuckled belatedly, Alastair glanced at me and grinned.
“So, you just spent hundreds of dollars on a suite, just so we could access the elevator?” Darwin asked. “I mean, way to think on your feet. But isn’t that a bit wasteful?”
“It would be if we didn’t use the suite, but I have every intention of enjoying it. After Nana gets a chance to spy on her foe, you’re all invited to a hearty supper, provided by room service. We’ve earned it, after a long day at the firehouse and a full evening of freedom fighting. And you should all plan to spend the night, if you can. We’ll turn it into a slumber party.”
Nana exclaimed, “Hot damn, count me in!”
When we reached the top floor, we encountered another obstacle. Two grim security guards were stationed at the door to the ballroom, checking invitations, even though the staff downstairs would have already done that. Alastair muttered, “Dick has some serious trust issues. A mayoral candidate does not need this level of security for a fundraiser.”