by Willa Okati
Hard to read just by the semidistant lights from the bar, but it wouldn’t take too long to figure out where they needed to go and how to get there. “Huh. We really aren’t that far from the border. Maybe a hundred miles. It’s mostly back ways and not much straight shooting. Could be a tough drive even for the Jeep, and we won’t make it there before morning.”
“I don’t mind.” Ford could tell Gavin meant that. “I can start packing. We didn’t get much out in the first place.”
“No,” Ford said, too fast, wanting something more. “I mean we shouldn’t drive so far into the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, again. My legs can’t take being cooped up for another stretch like that yet. Wait there for me. We can spend the night in the cabin and start out closer to daylight.”
Now Gavin sounded dubious. Maybe a little bit scared. “You don’t want to go right now?”
“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Gavin was quiet. Ford knew he’d be thinking, Since when do you worry about that? “Okay,” he said at last. “Hurry back.” He shifted from concerned to… Ford knew this tone. He could see Gavin so clearly in his mind’s eye, stretching out like a cat beneath the comforter “I’m not tired. If we’ve got all night, we can keep each other awake.”
The map fell away with a crinkle. “Gavin?”
Only a touch of shyness now, enough to make this new boldness as endearing as the lack of it had been before. “You know what I mean.”
“Tell me anyway?”
“I want you to… love me.” Ford could just see the pink in Gavin’s cheeks, the embarrassed wiggle, and the way he’d be drifting his hand down to stroke at his cock. “I want to suck you first. Hard and fast. While you finger me open.”
Ford -- “Floored” wasn’t the word for it. Neither was “stunned.” “Gavin, damn.”
“That mouth of yours gets pretty salty when you’re this worked up, doesn’t it?” The teasing, as it came through, felt like a kiss. “You don’t know what that’s like, to look at you looking at me, and you seeing…” He trailed off. That didn’t need finishing. “One thing. One more thing before you come back. I can wait a little longer.”
Curiosity was still Ford’s downfall. “If it’s something I can do, I will.”
“I want a wedding ring.”
Gavin could still take him by surprise. “A what, now?”
“A ring. Something I can wear on my finger and show everyone every time they look at my hands. When I turn a page, when I shelve a file. Something that says I belong to someone. That I belong to you.”
Ford couldn’t say a word. Nothing that wouldn’t come out as gibberish and fear. It didn’t feel right, Gavin’s being the one to ask. The tables had turned too far.
“Ford?”
He coughed and cleared his throat. “I don’t think there’s a jewelry store closer than ten miles away. And --” No, he was not telling Gavin he’d blown 95 percent of his cash on the cabin rental.
“Then go to a grocery store. I bet you can find one of those. Get a couple of plastic toy rings from the dollar store. I don’t care about fancy. I just want it to come from you.”
Ford squeezed his eyes shut. Gavin wanted this so much, he’d worked himself past his limits and kept on going. Trusted Ford that much. Loved him that much. He had to do the same. He would. “I’ll get you a real one when we’re back home,” he said thickly. “Promise.”
“I’ll still keep the other one.” Gavin sounded more awake now, not less. “Take your time. I know you’re coming back.”
Outside, the wind stilled. Surprised, Ford looked around. Things looked different. The sign still hung cockeyed from its chain, but Ford could see now the broken chain had rusted through, and the other one was new. Past, present. The sign itself -- a sign, for Pete’s sake -- was heavy and sturdy enough to come to a proper stop without the wind buffeting it.
One sign canceled out another. Gavin’s asking; the barkeep’s advising against it. Hesitance and reassurance.
Ford made his promise. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“And I’ll be waiting,” Gavin said, more “come hither” in him than a sultan’s plaything. “For you. In bed.”
Ford’s heart contracted. “I love you so much,” he said and meant it. “Just… wait there for me. I’ll be back.” This had to come out. “I wish I were there, or you were here right now.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said, driving back the last lingering wisps of fear. “Double for me.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Ford promised. His heart felt as light as it had been heavy. He could still read the signs, but here was the thing: good canceled out bad. Vice versa too. And now? The windshield reflected a changing of the beer signs in the bar window, from the red of a name brand to the soft green of what had to be a local brewery.
Green for go. Green with a touch of yellow to highlight the neon cursive.
“Wait for me,” Ford said.
“I always will. I --”
The phone cut off then. Completely dead. Ford jerked back, cradling it in his palm. He saw now that the battery was dead, drained dry. Nothing more to give.
Fuck. Fuck.
It doesn’t mean anything if I don’t want it to, Ford lied. He studied the map. Intently. There? Yes. Maybe an hour’s drive to Dolor, where they had to have something open all night. Gumball machines or cubic zirconium signets or simple gold bands. He wouldn’t come back without the rings Gavin wanted.
He just wished he’d never had to leave in the first place. That felt wrongest of all.
* * *
Ford wished he were there? So did Gavin.
Gavin swung about, away from one corner of the cabin, and started the walk to the other side. He tapped Call Waiting and hoped the woman on the end of the other line hadn’t hung up. “Kayla?”
She’d been the one to contact him. Tearful. Apologetic. Confused. Had woken him from a half-asleep sex daze and brought him cold to his feet. Then Ford had called, and -- He hoped he’d heard her wrong.
“Kayla, are you there?”
“I’m here.” She sniffled. “God, Gavin, I am so sorry. I don’t know how it happened, I swear I don’t, but I’ve looked everywhere. I even moved some furniture. I put out some fresh-cubed chicken, and I sat still and listened.”
So he hadn’t heard her wrong. Damn it.
“Oscar’s gone. I am such an idiot. This should be the happiest night of your life. I am so --”
Gavin stopped her before she could apologize again; he couldn’t listen to that right now. “Kayla, just… don’t. Oscar might still be in there. F1 crosses are wild. Ford’s the only stranger he’s ever taken to. He barely comes near me. He doesn’t know you at all, and it can seem like he’s vanished when he’s just hidden really well.”
“Gavin, I checked everywhere --”
“You couldn’t check every place at the same time.” Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose. Ford needed to be there. Why had he sent Ford after rings?
No. He knew the answer to that question. Ford… The way he’d reacted to the proposal had scared Gavin. More than a little. He’d almost fallen apart when Gavin had expected a gigantic kiss, a bear hug, and instantaneous nonstop babbling about wedding plans and who to invite and where to hold it, and… and… and --
Maybe he still thought Gavin would change his mind; God knew Gavin couldn’t blame him for that.
But Ford would deem that a bad sign. And Oscar’s disappearing tonight, if he really had gotten out somehow? Worse, much worse.
I don’t believe, Gavin tried telling himself. He knew it was a lie. He blocked his ears to the clamor in his head and focused on Kayla. “Okay. Here’s what you do. Try again. Put out more fresh food and water where he can get to them. Sit quietly in a corner of the apartment. Wait for him. He’ll come around. You’ll see.”
Kayla sniffled. “I’ll try.” Unhappiness suited her as badly as it did Ford. “I really am glad for you, you know. I’ll throw you both a doubl
e bachelor party when you get back, even if you are already married. You still need a good party.”
There. That was more like it. Didn’t push all the worries back or quell the tension making Gavin’s neck ache, but it was a start. He bit at his thumbnail. More than worry or tension. Dread. Like the worst had yet to come.
Would Ford change his mind? He trusted Ford, he did, but…
Am I changing my mind?
No. Gavin refused to go there. He was still riding on fumes and leftover adrenaline from the courage it’d taken to ask to be asked, and scared as hell by Ford’s reaction, but he had chosen his course, and by God, he would stick it out. He wanted this. More than anything.
Everyone got the jitters.
“Call me back in about an hour if Oscar hasn’t shown himself. Sooner if he does. Don’t worry about spooking him away from the food dish. He’ll come back. I just want to know he’s okay.”
“I promise.”
I do. Yes. Gavin lifted his chin, feeling calmer somehow. “Good. Talk to you then.” He snapped the phone shut on Kayla’s reply -- rude, and he was sorry for that right away, but then it was too late, wasn’t it?
That’s a bad sign, he imagined he heard Ford say.
Stop it. Gavin made a sharp turn toward suitcases and bed. Ford was busy doing his part; Gavin would take care of his end. It’d all be okay, even Oscar. They were the ones who controlled their lives, not random events and chaotic circumstance. They’d see.
He checked first for his passport in the tiny zipper compartment that was such a perfect size, it might have been made for the little booklet. Not that he’d ever used his passport, all the pages perfectly blank next to the photo that made him look like a startled doll.
Gavin liked that the first stamp in there would be made on his way to getting married. Married, God. Who’d have thought? He wanted to ruffle through those blank pages and wonder what the stamp would look like.
But when he reached inside the compartment, his passport wasn’t there.
What? Gavin checked again, pulled the liner inside out, and felt around to see if there was a hole in the bag that he’d missed. Nothing.
Bad sign.
Gavin bit harder at his nail, tearing the cuticle. Okay. Maybe it’s at the bottom. It’s somewhere.
He’d almost finished searching when a boisterous knock sounded at the door. He sagged with relief, breathing out a thank-you to whatever might be listening, if anything did.
Up on his feet again and to the door. “That was fast. Did you find a quickie mart?”
No answer.
Gavin rolled his eyes and didn’t bother to pretend to mean his scolding. “Why knock? It’s not like we don’t know each other well enough by now.”
He heard chuckling on the other side, almost boyish. Happy. It went a long way toward lifting his spirits.
“You almost had me worried, you --” Gavin undid the lock, threw the door open… and stopped.
Ford didn’t stand on the other side waiting to be let in, rings in his hand and a smile brightening the room.
Not Ford at all.
Donny.
Donny. Here. Why? With a red duffel in one hand and his cap -- literally -- in the other. Carefully styled hair falling artfully in his face and stars in his eyes.
Oh God.
“Gavin,” Donny said, the way he used to. As if Gavin meant the world to him. Like nothing else could ever matter.
Gavin had fallen for that once.
Not again. Not now. Gavin’s limbs unlocked. He stepped into the doorway, half in and half out. Put him within reach of Donny but kept Donny from coming inside. “You cannot be here,” he said, amazed and stunned at how coolly that emerged. No stutter.
Maybe because there was no doubt. “Why did you come?”
Donny eased forward -- like Ford -- and Gavin gave way. Instinct or natural reaction to someone so much larger crowding his space?
Coincidence or a sign?
Donny’s smile was simpler than Ford’s. Vapid. “I came to win you back, Gavin.”
Gavin covered his face with his hands and groaned. “For God’s sake, Donny.”
“Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking. Just one chance, Gavin.” For every step Gavin took back, Donny took one forward. “You remember how good we were.”
“That was then.”
“It could be now.”
Gavin had gone almost as far as he could go. Four more steps and he’d be at the bed. “Get out, Donny.”
Donny didn’t listen to him. “You look…” His lips had the shape of the word “wonderful,” but that fell away when he tipped his head in confusion -- God, did he have to look exactly like Ford when he did that? “Different,” he said, the changes eluding him.
“It doesn’t matter how I look.”
“But it does. You’re beautiful. I always thought so. You know that.”
Gavin scoffed.
“What was that for?”
“Men aren’t…” Gavin rubbed his forehead. “Never mind.”
“Do we have to stand here arguing about it?” Donny stepped forward. He looked shocked when Gavin didn’t move to meet him, the sort of look that made older women want to feed him cookies and the rest of the world want to kiss that dismay away. “I thought you’d be glad to see me. Gavin.” He touched Gavin’s face. “I missed you.”
“You cannot be here.” Gavin moved back and away, surprised at himself, then shocked when Donny pushed into his space. “Get. Out. Get out now.”
Utter shock and confusion made Donny look like a simpleton. “Gavin --”
“No.” Another step and another, almost at the bed now. “How did you even find me?”
Donny ignored the question and tried to muscle past Gavin again. “Come on. It’s going to rain.” He peered at the sky. “It is raining. You wouldn’t leave me outside in the rain, would you?” He stopped. “What are you laughing at?”
“At your having the sense to come in out of the rain.” Rude. This time, Gavin didn’t care. Donny couldn’t make sense of how he’d changed or why. Poor stupid dog.
Pity surprised Gavin more than anything, even Donny’s arrival. It kept him silent and gave Donny the opening he needed. “I’m here because I realized a few days ago that I’d made, you know, the biggest mistake of my life.” He cupped Gavin’s face in one hand and lifted his chin.
Sense memory kept Gavin still. It parted his lips, as if in anticipation of a kiss.
Donny noticed. “It was easy to find you, you know,” he said, so obviously sure he’d won the day.
“How?” Gavin couldn’t wrap his head around that; they were out in the middle of absolute nowhere, and there was no way Donny could be here -- except he was.
“I have to start at the beginning.”
“Or else you’ll forget your lines?”
“Huh?” Donny wrinkled his nose. “I went to your apartment because I wanted to get you and take you out to a party, but you were gone,” Donny explained very slowly, as if Gavin were the beautiful but dumb one here. “So of course I came after you.” Donny traced the line of Gavin’s nose. “I know you still love me, even if it’s just a little.”
“Donny, God. Don’t do this.”
“I have to. This is my last chance. And I’d forgotten how much I love you.”
“And you’ll forget again the next time the wind changes.”
“I won’t, I swear. I know how stupid I was, Gavin. Honest I do. I threw away…” Donny smoothed his thumbs over Gavin’s cheeks, another of Ford’s moves, one that made Gavin shiver -- and gave Donny the wrong idea. “I want another chance with you.”
“No. And answer me one simple question, damn it. How did you know specifically where I’d be? Were you following me?”
“Gavin, come on. You left a whole stack of brochures at your place. All I had to do was follow a map.” How could a man so thick touch Gavin as if he were so precious? “Besides, you silly idiot, don’t you recognize this area? It’s only
four miles down the road from where we stayed when we were running away together.”
* * *
Sign. After sign. After sign. Ford could almost see the storm racing in front of him, heading toward the lake or where he thought the lake was, leaving him two car lengths behind.
He wasn’t the only one having trouble. When the rain kicked up for a while there, Ford had shared the road with a dozen angry bikers and a couple of confused tourists.
They’d fallen away one by one. Bikers into dirt lanes you wouldn’t see if you didn’t know they were there, into the darkness, gone. Two of the tourists tried to cut each other off to stay ahead of the rain. The crash and screech when their bumpers met --
Ford would have stayed to help them. They weren’t hurt, though, just angry, out of their cars and fists raised along with their shouts of rage.
Now? Alone. On a back road without a star in the sky to guide him and no clue whether he was headed to Dolor or back to the highway, following an internal compass and praying while he watched the seconds tick away on the implacable LED glow of the dashboard clock.
I have to get back to Gavin. Each minute away was too much, and if Ford couldn’t see him, wrap Gavin up in his arms, and hang on, couldn’t quash this damn dread that wouldn’t stop --
Electric sparks startled him into laying on the brakes. One warning, almost silent, and it was the only thing that saved him. Even so, jerking the wheel out of pure reflex sent him spinning across the road. When he’d finally dragged the 4x4 to a halt half on and half off the shoulder he saw what’d knocked down the power lines: four pine trees, spindly on their own but grown knotted together, one pulling the others down.
Four.
Ford pulled away from the wheel, the feel of warm leather stinging his palms. Four by four, and four again. He could hear the word spat the wrong way: sz!
“No,” Ford said out loud, like that’d help, and who knew? Maybe it would. “The road ahead’s closed. That’s not stopping me. I’ll go back the way I came.”
Sz. Ford ground his teeth and kept it together. That damned wind, if it didn’t stop --