by Anna Martin
To Say I Love You
by Anna Martin
www.annamartin-fiction.com
© 2020 Anna Martin
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
First edition May 2014 (Dreamspinner Press)
Second (revised) edition 2020
Characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any person depicted on the cover of this book is a model and is not affiliated with, nor do they endorse, this story.
Chapter 1
I rolled over in bed and tucked my body around Will’s, curving against him like a question mark and tangling our feet together. It was perfect for all of three seconds, and then he threw me off and rolled away.
“Too hot,” he mumbled. Will searched for my hand on the bed and brought it to his lips, a kiss asking for forgiveness.
It really was hot, even I would admit to that. And I’d grown up here.
Some years, summer in Georgia meant the mercury hit a hundred before you even got out of bed in the morning. Others, it meant nonstop rain for months on end. This was a sweltering summer, one that I remembered from my childhood and had almost forgotten, or remembered in the hazy, abstract way that almost-lost memories linger.
I knew what Will was sacrificing to be here with me, so forgiveness came easily. Since it was nearly morning anyway, I leaned over and kissed his shoulder before getting out of bed and tugging on running shorts.
The only good time to run was before the sun was even up. My sneakers were beat from running on dusty roads, but there was no way I was going to invest in a new pair until I knew more about what was happening. Things were still so up in the air.
I crept through the house to make sure I didn’t wake my dad or sister, or Jennifer’s Labrador puppy she called Baby. I was more than happy to take Baby out for a run, and did so a few times a week, but she still barked a lot. She’d grow out of it sooner or later.
The air outside was cool compared to what I knew it would get like, and I took a deep lungful of it before starting my loop around the neighborhood. Running alone made me think. Will was doing everything he could to stop me thinking, bless him.
Mama was dead.
It still hit me like a sucker punch every time I let the thought into my head, one of the reasons why Will had become so good at distracting me. There were times, though, when I wanted to think. I wanted to remember.
Jennifer had called me not even a month ago, her voice broken and raw.
“Jesse.”
“What?”
“It’s Mama.”
“What about her?”
“She’s got cancer, Jess.”
“Oh, God. Shit. Where?”
The longest pause of my life. Then: “Everywhere.”
She wasn’t exaggerating. Will and I threw clothes into a suitcase that evening, and he paid stupid prices to get us both on a flight from Seattle to Atlanta. While I panicked, he called around to let both our bosses know, then his mother, who was like a second mom to me. Jennifer had promised to tell me more when we arrived. All I knew was that Mama was in the hospital and it was bad.
It felt like it took me a while to string together all the pieces of information I'd been given and put them in a logical order. Mama had been outside weeding her garden when she collapsed. They’d taken her straight to the emergency room, and she’d been admitted. Then she wouldn’t wake up.
That evening, a doctor neither my dad nor Jennifer had ever met before came and said he was an oncologist who had been treating my mother for years. Years.
That was when Jennifer had called me.
She only woke up a few times after that. I got to speak to her, not mentioning the C word or letting on that we knew. That was something the oncologist had insisted on. Mama hadn’t wanted us to know. She didn’t want us to worry about her.
Less than three weeks later, she died.
The cancer had spread from her breast to her lymph nodes, then to her brain. From the first time she’d gone to see her doctor with the lump, it had taken two years for the cancer to kill her. She’d refused nearly all treatment.
I doubled back and started the uphill leg of the journey to the house, a little quicker than I had before. These days, I only got the occasional pain in my side where the old breaks in my ribs were. It was all well-healed these days, although running for a long time sometimes made it twinge. The sun was properly up now, and I could feel the heat on my skin; I hadn’t put any sunscreen on before leaving the house and didn’t want to burn. Having lived in the Pacific Northwest for half my life, my skin wasn’t so used to the sun.
Will was sitting on the porch swing when I arrived, freshly showered and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, cradling a mug of coffee to his chest. I braced my hands on my knees as I caught my breath.
“I would have come with you,” he said lightly. I shook my head.
“It’s fine,” I said around my still-shaky breathing. “Felt good to get out.”
“If you go have a shower, I’ll make some breakfast.”
I leaned in to kiss him, but he stopped me getting too close with his fingertips pressed to my lips and grinned.
“Shower,” he repeated.
I could hear my dad moving about in his room and bypassed the family bathroom for the smaller one attached to my old room. It used to be the hallway closet until my mom converted it.
Will and I had been staying at my parents’ house since we arrived in Georgia. For the first few weeks, it was a base while we took shifts at the hospital. My dad barely came home, so Will had taken over all housekeeping duties. He was still in charge of things like meals, making sure we were all eating, doing grocery shopping, and running to the bank and taking calls from people sending their condolences.
In short, he was a godsend.
I showered quickly and dressed, scrubbed my hand over my jaw, and decided not to shave, then jogged down the stairs barefoot. Will was in the kitchen, a pan of eggs already on the stove with a loaf of sliced bread ready to go in the toaster.
This time I did kiss him, on the side of his neck, lingering there for a moment to tell him “thank you.” His hair was still wet from his shower, and I carefully combed the knots out with my fingers, untangling the reddish-brown strands.
I wore a variety of different bands and bracelets around my wrists these days, some leather, others made of braided thread, often picked up during mini-trips Will and I had taken around the Northwest. We’d started going out to the coast on the weekends when the weather was good, and there were plenty of little towns in the area that sold homemade jewelry and the like.
The collar Will had given me as a symbol of our more kinky relationship was nestled among them, the same simple braided-thread bracelet that had been around my wrist for years now. I’d belonged to him for a very long time.
Being back in the South had changed me. It was like my skin had remembered the golden-brown color I turned with just a little encouragement, and the sun had lightened my hair too. I’d had it cut, much to Will’s distress, not liking the blond curls that had started to take over. It was short on the sides now, with just a little bit of curl on the top.
Will burned in the sun. He had inherited his mother’s pale skin, which meant he needed to slap on the sunscreen before he left the house and keep applying it if we were out for any length of time. I wasn’t sure if his hair had gotten lighter, it was probably just the changing color of his skin. His usual milky, pale complexion made his dark, brownish-red hair look even dar
ker. I was getting used to seeing him with a burned nose. It was adorable.
My dad wandered down for breakfast first, grunted a hello at us both, and helped himself to the eggs Will had set on the table. Baby arrived just before Jennifer, skidding into the kitchen on legs that only knew one speed.
I’d grown to adore the dog almost as much as my sister did and crouched to rub her belly hard. Baby was a slut and immediately rolled onto her back to receive the attention she thought she deserved. “Baby” was never supposed to be her name—Jennifer had called her Daisy at first, but it hadn’t stuck. When my sister insisted on calling the puppy her baby, she’d started to respond to the affectionate nickname instead.
Baby chewed shoes. My shoes, in particular. For reasons none of us could explain, she never went for any of Will’s shoes, or Dad’s, or Jennifer’s… just mine. I had taken to almost exclusively wearing flip-flops. That way it didn’t matter if she tore them up. I could replace them cheaply.
Will ushered me into a seat, and the dog fell into place at my ankles, waiting for a treat that was sure to come. She’d developed a taste for bacon we were trying not to indulge.
By the time Jennifer arrived, my plate was loaded and Will had hooked his foot around mine under the table. He did that a lot.
“Working today?” I asked her as we settled down.
She nodded. “This morning I have surgery for a few hours.”
That was good. Jennifer had graduated with flying colors from her veterinary school and had opened a clinic with a good friend in the next town over. After Mama got sick she had reduced her working hours, and they’d been paying a temp to come in and pick up the slack. It wasn’t the best solution though; they were leaking money, and I knew Jennifer would likely go back before she was really ready.
The museum had granted me a leave of absence, and though I missed my work, it was better this way. Things were different for Will and me. We’d both managed to work our way up our respective career ladders, and I knew we could afford for me to not work for a few months. Our savings would take a knock, but Will said we’d be fine.
With Daddy having retired a few years back, it meant all four of us were at the house from dawn ’til dusk some days, and I worried it was getting claustrophobic. My father would never come right out and say he needed us, or even wanted us around. Instead I was given the job of trying to interpret his moods, which was no easy task.
When we were done with the breakfast things, I nudged Will away from the dishwasher. He’d do everything if I didn’t stop him, and at home—our home—we had a rule that whoever cooked didn’t get stuck with the dishes too.
Once the chore was done, I went back to bed. It was there Will found me a little while later, and he crawled up behind me and held me close.
“I thought we talked about this.”
“About what?”
“Staying in bed all day.”
“Will, it’s barely ten. That hardly counts as all day.”
He stroked my belly lightly and laid kisses on my back and neck until I relaxed in his arms. Things weren’t great, and wouldn’t be for a long time. This was a small comfort, one that I latched on to.
“I need to talk to you,” Will said quietly.
“Sure,” I said, twisting round to face him.
“I need to go home,” he said.
I reached up and touched his face, just lightly. “I’ve been telling you to go home for ages. It’s fine, I’ll come too.”
He was already shaking his head. “You need to be here. I get that, I really do. There’s some stuff I need to tie up at home, then I’ll come back.”
“Your job, though.”
“That’s why I need to go back,” he said with a wry smile, rubbing comforting circles on my arm. “Trust me, I don’t want to leave you right now. I really don’t. But if I go and get this done, then hopefully we’ve got a bit more flexibility to make decisions.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s why I need to talk to my boss.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll be a few days, that’s all.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insisted. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be fine.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine firmly, cradling my cheek in his hand.
“When are you leaving?” I asked.
“Tomorrow, hopefully.”
“Oh.” That was soon.
“I can be back quicker that way.”
Will was planning something, I could tell. He wasn’t likely to tell me exactly what until it was done, though, and that was okay. I trusted him.
That night, he held me close despite the heat, stroking my hair until I fell asleep in his arms. We didn’t make love here, not in my parents’ house. It was a respect thing: when I had first brought him home to meet my family, my mom had put us in separate beds.
It did mean we hadn’t had sex since we left Seattle, and I needed him. We were sensual people, and our relationship was based on layers of intimacy. Holding each other as we slept was only one of those layers.
Still, it was better than nothing, and when his lips found mine for a slow, searching kiss, it was better. I tightened my arms around his waist, closing the space between us, and clung to the man who had become my anchor.
The next morning I drove him to the airport in Atlanta. It was a few hours away from my family home, so Jennifer let me borrow her truck for the trip. He was only taking cabin baggage, not checking a suitcase, so he could go straight through to security.
I didn’t want a long-drawn-out good-bye in the airport and kissed him in the car instead.
“I’ll be as quick as I can.”
“I know,” I said, knowing he needed this reassurance. “It’s gonna be all right. Go on.”
“Love you,” he murmured.
“Love you too.”
I didn’t want to have to watch him walk away and pulled out of the drop-off area as soon as there was a space. It was weird in some ways, being set free here without him. Not that Will would hold me back at all. We were independent people, regardless of our commitment to each other.
Since Jennifer didn’t need her car at work, I dropped her off at the office on the condition I’d take Baby out for a long walk while she was working. Her partner would bring her home, leaving me with the whole day in front of me and nothing to do with it.
I mentioned it to my dad, hoping he’d be in the mood to join me. I was expecting him to decline, so I wasn’t surprised when he gave me a wry smile and shook his head. There was a part of me that knew he needed space and time to grieve, another part that hated leaving him on his own.
My parents had met when they were both teenagers, but Mama had married another man when she was eighteen, and my dad had joined the Army to try and get over the loss of the woman he loved. By the time he left the service five years later, my mother was divorced—no one knew why—and dad started trying to woo her.
They had been together ever since.
My mind kept asking questions I didn’t want to answer: What would you do without Will? Could you cope? Will you be with him long enough to have to deal with one of you dying first? What if you had to live without him? What if you leave him on his own?
It wasn’t helpful. Then again, a sense of our own mortality is what separates humans from the beasts, so it wasn’t like I was the first person who’d had to deal with this internal self-flagellation. It was all the worse because Will wasn’t around.
I took Baby for the long walk through a small forest a couple of miles away. By the time we were done and heading back to the car, she was exhausted and I took pity on her, carrying her the last few hundred yards. She was asleep before I pulled out of the parking lot, and snoring by the time I hit the highway.
Chapter 2
For the first few days after Will left, it was weird. We exchanged texts a few times a day and called each other fairly regularly. But his absence highlighted how much we had all relied o
n him while he was here.
Neither I, my sister, nor Dad had managed to settle into any kind of routine. I wasn’t sleeping well and assumed from their tired eyes they weren’t either. It had only been a couple of weeks since Mama passed, and although I was coming to terms with the fact she was gone, I was having a hard time accepting that she’d hidden her illness from us for so long.
I hadn’t lived in Georgia since I was a young teenager, so just being back was strange too. It was a different way of life from Seattle, that much was certain. There was a much stronger sense of community, of people knowing each other, of interactions with neighbors.
At home, Will and I lived in a nice house on Capitol Hill, the “gay district” of Seattle. Even so, we only knew a few people from the area, and a few more to nod to in passing. Here, everyone knew my family, and by extension, me. It was a little unnerving.
It also meant everyone knew I was gay.
As far as coming out was concerned, I’d done that years ago when I’d taken Will to my cousin’s wedding as my date. That was when he’d met all my family and anyone who wanted to get a good look at the local gays got their chance. That we were still together all these years later seemed to surprise people. Well, fuck them. I really didn’t care what they were saying behind my back.
Jennifer was trying to get Dad to do stuff—go fishing or hunting or anything that got him out of the house. He wasn’t really resisting her, more like she was in his way and completely unable to figure out what best to do. We’d likely pushed her back to work quicker than she was ready, since neither Will, Dad, nor I able to put up with her fussing. We weren’t men who liked to be fussed over.
Fussing seemed to be the order, not just of the day. The neighborhood women had taken it on themselves to be an almost constant presence, coming over with casserole or cookies or tea and sympathy. I didn’t blame my dad for being sick of it, and told Jennifer I knew where he was when he disappeared when really I had no idea. He needed space and time, like the rest of us.