Worlds Away

by Alexa Land

  “Yeah. I can’t see returning to that job, so I need to talk to Joan and make it official, instead of just dodging it.”

  I grabbed my leather jacket and the motorcycle helmet Alastair had given me after our first night together, then headed down to the parking garage. It was hard to believe only a few weeks had passed since then, because he’d completely transformed my world in that time. I could recall how lost, aimless, and alone I’d been when he came along, but it felt like a distant memory.

  I wound through town on my motorcycle for a while, trying to make a decision. Stay like Alastair told me to, or go anyway? Eventually, I realized I was close to my friend Zachary’s shop and made a quick U-turn.

  After finding a parking spot, I tucked the helmet under my arm and headed down the narrow side street where Zachary and his new husband TJ lived and worked. The ground floor of their building was part showroom, part workshop. They made clever, intricately detailed wind-up toys that were equal parts whimsy and fine art.

  The two men were seated side-by-side at their workbench when I came in. Their heads were close together, and they were deep in conversation, the little figures in their hands momentarily forgotten. My arrival was announced with a bell jingling on the door, and both men smiled when they looked up at me.

  “Hey,” I said, “is this a bad time?”

  “Not at all,” Zachary told me. “Come on in.”

  He pushed his brown hair back from his dark eyes and his smile widened. My friend looked good, healthy and happy, in marked contrast to how he’d seemed when we’d first met about a year ago. He’d been battling a heroin addiction back then, not that I knew it at the time because he was good at keeping it a secret. I would have called him a former addict since he’d been clean for months, but he’d told me ‘once an addict, always an addict.’ He didn’t use anymore, but I got what he meant. Recovery was a lifelong process.

  His husband asked me, “How’ve you been, Sawyer?”

  “Not so great.” I perched on a stool across from them and put my helmet on the floor, then took a look at the hundred tiny gears and metal parts spread out on the workbench.

  Zachary said, “You must be missing Alastair like crazy.”

  “Every minute of every day.”

  TJ got up, and when he kissed his husband’s forehead and smiled at him, love shone in his eyes. He said, “I’m going to go upstairs and make us some coffee. Be right back,” and left the room. It was pretty obvious he was doing that to give us some privacy.

  Zachary said, “So, what are you going to do? I know Alastair hadn’t planned on going away so soon, and when I messaged him a couple days ago, he told me his job is going to keep him in the UK.”

  “I have no idea, and that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’ve known Alastair longer than I have, and I wanted to get your perspective on this. When he left, he asked me to stay behind. At the time, he didn’t want to upset his father right after the man had had a heart attack, or the rest of his homophobic family, for that matter. Since then, he’s said he doesn’t want to hide me from them and treat me like his dirty little secret, since that’s pretty much exactly what my ex-boyfriend did, and Alastair knows how much it hurt me. But I’m miserable without him. I know he’s miserable, too, with all the pressure he’s under. If I was in London, I think I’d be able to provide some support, even if it was just a friendly face and a shoulder to cry on. Or maybe I’d just stress him out more, because he’d have the added pressure of keeping a secret from his family.”

  “Have you talked to Alastair about this?”

  “No, because he’s already overwhelmed with his new responsibilities. I feel like asking him to rethink the decision to have me stay behind would just put more pressure on him.”

  “So, you’re thinking about going to London without telling him ahead of time.”

  I nodded. “I wanted to ask you though, as one of his best friends, how do you think this’ll go over? The goal here is to make Alastair’s life better, not worse.”

  Zachary reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Here’s what I know, Sawyer. Alastair is crazy about you, and leaving you behind tore him apart. So, I think you should go, even though he asked you not to. Initially, it made sense to tell you to hang back. He was worried about upsetting his dad when the man was gravely ill, and understandably so. But now, Alastair’s trying to do what’s best for you. He doesn’t want to hurt you like your ex did by keeping you a secret, but you should be able to make that decision for yourself. If you two feel you have to hide your relationship from his family, and if you’re fine with that, then it shouldn’t be a problem. You and Alastair need each other, and neither of you will be happy as long as you’re apart. I’m sure of that.”

  “You’re right, and you just helped me make up my mind. I’m going.”

  “Terrific!”

  “Now that I’ve decided, I can’t even get there fast enough.”

  Zachary pulled out his phone and said, “So let’s make the arrangements. I’ll help.”

  I opened my phone’s browser and typed in the name of a discount travel site. After entering a bit of information, I said, “There are actually a couple flights tonight. The last-minute thing isn’t cheap, but I don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve already let too much time go by.”

  “Will you be staying with Alastair once you get there?”

  I shook my head. “He hasn’t had time to find his own place, so he’s living with his family in their home in London. Needless to say, I won’t be going within a mile of them.”

  He said, “In that case, I’ll help you find something.”

  “Thank you. Cheaper the better.”

  “You’re not just going for a week or two, right? You intend to stay awhile.”

  “I want to stay as long as I can, but that’s up to Alastair.” I thought about that and said, “I wonder what the rules are for visitors to the UK.”

  “I believe you can remain in the country up to six months as a tourist. I don’t know what you’d have to do to get permission to stay longer. There are all kinds of rules about getting a job there, too. I guess they don’t want visitors taking jobs from UK citizens.”

  “So, I won’t have any income while I’m there, and after half a year, I’ll have to leave. That sucks. Like I said though, it’s up to Alastair. If he doesn’t want me there, this is going to be a very short trip.” I selected one of the cheaper flights, though none was exactly a bargain, and murmured, “I hope I’m doing the right thing.”

  “You are. He’ll be so happy to see you.” Zachary turned his phone to face me. A no-frills bedroom was on the screen, and he asked, “What do you think about something like this? It’s a week-to-week rental, right in the heart of London.”

  “I’m not picky. I just need to be in the same city as Alastair. Nothing else matters.” I booked a one-way flight, since I had no idea when I’d be returning, and as my confirmation number popped up on the screen, I said, “Thanks for helping, Zachary. I appreciate it.”

  “No need to thank me. You and Alastair belong together. I’m glad to be a part of making that happen.”

  *****

  My next stop, after visiting with Zachary and TJ for another half-hour, was Club Scandal. Joan wasn’t the least bit surprised when I told her I wouldn’t be returning to work. She’d seen Alastair and me together every time I stripped and told me she’d fully expected me to follow him to the UK. She even gave me the phone number of an acquaintance of hers who ran a gay strip club in London and told me to look him up, because he’d probably let me work under the table for tips only. It was hardly my ideal job, but I was glad to at least have one option for earning an income while I was in the UK.

  I found Gabriel backstage, and when I told him what I was doing, he gave me a big hug and said, “You’re making the right call. I’ll miss you, but I’m so glad you and Alastair will be together.”

  When he let go of me, I held him by his shoulders and said, “Are yo
u going to be okay, Gabriel? I’ve been worried about you with this hiding in plain sight thing you’ve been doing. What if your ex Dom catches up to you?”

  “Then he does. I’m not going to go out of my way to let him find me, but I won’t let fear keep dictating how I run my life, either. I belong in San Francisco, and I love this job. If that comes at a price, so be it.”

  “I wish I could do something to help.”

  He smiled at me and said, “You’re a good friend, Sawyer, and I appreciate the fact that you’re concerned. But make no mistake: I’m a survivor. I’ve lived through shit you couldn’t imagine, and I’m sure as hell going to live through this, too.” I believed that.

  *****

  Around nine p.m., I knocked on Kai’s door, and when he answered, I told him, “So, guess who’s boarding a redeye to London tonight?”

  “I’m not even sort of surprised,” he said as he stepped back to let me in.

  He and Jessie had built a beautiful apartment on top of their garage. It had high ceilings and an open floor plan with a spacious blue-and-white living room/dining room/kitchen area, plus two bedrooms. Izzy’s was a pink, totally girly dream room with a built-in castle playhouse, made by her dads, and she came running out of her room when she heard me. The little girl was wearing a princess costume over pajamas, and she exclaimed, “Hi Uncle Sawyer,” as I picked her up and gave her a hug.

  “Hi, beautiful girl.” I kissed the top of her head and said, “I came by to tell you and your dads that I’m going to London for a while. I’ll miss you.”

  She leaned back and studied me with her big, brown eyes. “Is that where your boyfriend is?” When I nodded, she said, “I’ll miss you too, but I’m happy you’re going to be with your one true love. That’s important.”

  Izzy obviously watched a lot of Disney movies. I grinned at her and said, “It is.”

  Jessie came out of Izzy’s room with an armload of pink laundry and asked, “How long are you going to be gone, Sawyer?”

  “I have no idea.”

  I sat on their light blue chambray couch with Izzy on my lap, and she put her head on my shoulder. I was going to miss that kid. She’d warmed up to me quickly when I returned from the Army, and I hoped she wouldn’t forget me, no matter how long I stayed in London.

  We chatted for a few minutes, until Jessie told Izzy it was bedtime. I carried her to her room, then kissed her cheek after her dads tucked her in. She asked, “Will you mail me a surprise, like when you were gone to the Army?” I was surprised she even remembered the little trinkets I sent her whenever I had the chance.

  “Of course I will, Iz.” She seemed excited at the prospect.

  When Kai, Jessie and I returned to the living room, my best friend said, “I’ll get my coat.” I turned to him and asked why, and he explained, “So I can drive you and your luggage to the airport. And we should get going, because they want you to check in ridiculously early for international flights.”

  I thought about that, then said, “Do I assume I’m only visiting him for a week or two and just take a backpack? Or do I bring all my stuff, because I’ll be staying in London long-term? I know I want to be wherever Alastair is, and if it was up to me, this would be a move, not a vacation. But I don’t know how he feels about any of this. We never talked about our relationship turning into something long-term. In fact, right from the start, he told me about his family obligations and how he’d have to return to the UK, and never once did he say, ‘hey, why don’t you come, too?’ I know I’m going to go see him. That’s something I absolutely have to do. But I have no idea what it’s going to mean for us.” I looked at my friends and said, “So, what do I do here, bring a backpack, or everything I own? Is this a visit or a move?”

  I must have looked as lost as I felt, because Kai’s expression turned sympathetic, and he squeezed my shoulder as he said, “If you believe Alastair really cares about you, then you already have your answer.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The hour it took to go through customs was uncomfortable to say the least, especially the part where I had to explain why my luggage was half-full of corsets, stockings and high heels. But I made myself hold my head high, look the judgmental customs agent in the eye, and tell him the truth: all the apparel was mine, and last I checked, there was no law in bringing clothing designed for the opposite gender into the UK. He’d started off smirking, but I squared my shoulders and kept staring him down, until finally he broke eye contact and told me to proceed. I was sure he’d have a good laugh with his coworkers later on about the guy with all the lingerie, but fuck him.

  I adjusted the strap of my backpack and looked around, trying to get my bearings. Then I picked up my duffle bag and suitcase and wandered through Heathrow airport. I followed the signs for ground transportation, pausing to exchange my currency along the way. There were a lot of people around, and they all seemed to be in a hurry. I, on the other hand, felt like I was moving in slow motion. My neck and back ached from the long flight in a cramped coach seat clearly not meant for someone with my build (or anyone with legs), and I was exhausted. With one layover along the way, it had taken me about fourteen hours to reach London.

  After consulting a crumpled piece of paper with my scribbled directions and stuffing it back in my pocket, I boarded the Heathrow Express bound for Central London. I tried my damnedest to stay awake and avoid missing my stop during the brief train ride. That was followed by a bus and a walk. Eventually, I reached the attic apartment I was renting week-to-week. I trudged up the steps at the back of the four-story building and found the key that had been left under the welcome mat for me. As soon as I got inside, I dropped my luggage, fell onto the bed fully clothed, and passed the hell out.

  *****

  For some reason, I awoke only an hour or so later, and I turned on the small lamp on the bedside table and took in my surroundings. The narrow apartment had white walls and worn wood flooring, and in addition to the bed and nightstand, it also contained a dresser, a small bathroom, and absolutely nothing else. When I got up and used the facilities, I glanced at the tiny shower stall and wondered if I’d actually fit in it.

  According to my phone, it was midnight, but my body was still on California time and thought it was four p.m. No wonder I’d only been able to nap. Since I knew it would be almost impossible to get back to sleep at that point, I decided to stretch my legs and pocketed the key to the apartment before heading down the back stairs.

  It had been raining. My boots splashed on the wet pavement as I navigated the narrow street where the apartment was located, then turned and headed toward the river. After a few minutes, it began drizzling lightly. I zipped up my leather jacket, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and kept going.

  Eventually, I passed a huge former factory turned art gallery, called the Tate Modern, and ventured onto a pedestrian bridge spanning the river. I had it to myself at that late hour. When I was halfway across, I paused and contemplated the wide, dark Thames, which reflected the blue lights of the bridge. A small vessel passed beneath me, something squared off and built for work. I resumed my walk, taking in the sharp contrast between the breathtaking, classical dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral directly ahead of me and the sleek, steel Millennium Bridge beneath my feet.

  That contrast was echoed over and over in London. Historic buildings coexisted with modern architecture, the past and present coming together in a tapestry that should have seemed disjointed, but instead struck me as beautiful. I felt an immediate affinity for the city. Even though I’d never been there before, it felt like coming home in some inexplicable way.

  During my layover, I’d memorized the route between my apartment and the building that housed Alastair’s company. It ended up taking about half an hour to reach it, as expected. I was torn between wanting him to be in his office and hoping he’d gone home at a decent hour and was getting some much-needed sleep.

  I’d been imagining a skyscraper, but instead, the executive offices for Penelegion E
nterprises were in an elegant, white, four-story building that took up most of a block. It reminded me of a high-end hotel. Square columns framed the historic building’s ornate entrance, and perfectly maintained square planters with small trees and colorful flowers dotted the sidewalk. Most of the building was dark, except for the lobby and three windows in the top, left corner of the building. I wondered if that was Alastair’s office.

  The rain picked up a bit, so I ducked under an awning and pulled out my phone, but then I hesitated. What if he was home in bed? The last thing I wanted was to wake him, knowing how sleep-deprived he’d been all week.

  For the next few minutes, I watched the lit windows, feeling a bit like a stalker while I debated sending him a text. But then, my phone buzzed in my hand. The message from Alastair said: I miss you.

  I replied: I miss you, too. Are you in your office?

  He wrote: Sadly, yes. I’ve actually started sleeping here. It’s just so late every night by the time I finish work that there’s little point in going home. I just have to be right back bright and early.

  I dialed his number, and when he answered, I asked, “Will you do something for me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Look out your window.” My heart leapt when a figure appeared in that corner office, backlit but unmistakably Alastair. “See the black and white striped awning across the street?”

  “I do. But what—” When I stepped out from beneath it and waved, Alastair yelled, “Oh my God!” It sounded like he dropped the phone, and the line went dead.

  I chuckled at that and returned the phone to my pocket. After a black taxi slowly rolled past me, I started toward the entrance to his building. Moments later, Alastair burst out the front door and ran toward me at top speed. I ran for him, too, and when we reached each other in the middle of the street, I grabbed him in an embrace and lifted him off his feet.

  He sobbed against my lips. His kiss tasted like mint and rain. I returned the kiss frantically. How had I gone days without this? I needed him like I needed air.