“So what did he actually say about us?” asked Diego. He leaned in closer to the screen again and read more comments. “He thinks I have something to do with drug lords? Is that all you gringos ever think of when you think of Mexico? What about the resorts and the art and the temples in the South. It’s ridiculous. Mexico is a country of one hundred twenty million people. From my perspective, the United States of America is a warlike tribe attacking the rest of the world.”
“Warlike tribe?” asked Rhea.
“My city of Veracruz has been invaded four different times in the last two hundred years. Once was by Spain. Once was by France, and the last two were by the U.S.A. The last time was barely over one hundred years ago. You laid siege to my city in 1847 and occupied it for six months in 1914.”
“Wow, they don’t teach us that in high school history class.”
“And he thinks I must be involved with the drug trade. Why would he come up with that about me?”
“Read a little further down,” said Rhea.
Diego sighed heavily. “There’s no other explanation for the money I had available to invest when I opened my trucking company? Families become wealthy in Mexico the same way they do here. It’s inheritance and business ownership. He needs to learn how to do research, too.”
“Maybe you should ignore it, Mr. Flores. I see only one voice spreading the information. The others are figuratively standing around in a circle nodding their heads.”
Diego crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the back wall of Rhea’s office. He said, “Please don’t share this information outside of this office, but I think these little rumors are starting to impact our business.”
“What makes you say that?”
“We’ve had a rash of three different contracts canceled in the last month. None of them suggest that our performance is poor or that our prices are too high. They only share mysterious suggestions that someone in their company said they needed to hire a different shipping firm.”
“That’s not fair,” said Rhea.
“Business isn’t fair. I didn’t start M-Trak expecting that I was competing in a baseball game or a chess tournament. There are basic laws, but no one has written a code of rules.”
“What are you going to do, Mr. Flores? I’m on your side. I’ll follow any of your suggestions.”
Diego closed his eyes. He kept them shut for at least sixty seconds. When he opened them, he had an idea.
“I do like seeing the smile,” said Rhea.
“I’m going to show that I’m a businessman committed to the community. Do you have any connections to the real estate business in the Coldbrook Bend area?”
Rhea shook her head. “There’s none that immediately come to mind, but I’ll do some checking. I can get back to you on that tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is definitely early enough. I need to get to work, but if anything else like this pops up, please let me know right away.”
“Of course, Mr. Flores. I knew that you would want to know.”
Diego collapsed into his office chair. He leaned his head back and took three long, slow, deep breaths. When one part of life leaped forward three steps, something else always caused it to fall back two. After spending the night at Alan’s house, Diego knew that he should have expected something on its way to block his path forward.
Once he gathered his wits again, Diego placed a call to Minneapolis. His architect friend Mark answered on the third ring. He asked, “Have you decided where you want to build your home, Diego? Do you have a property in mind?”
“No, but I wanted to know if you work on corporate projects. I’m curious about a new headquarters for my company.”
“Is it a large corporation?” asked Mark. “We can do moderately-sized office buildings, but I advise you to look beyond us if you’re talking about a large corporate campus.”
Diego explained the need for an M-Trak office expansion, and, by the time he finished with the description, Mark said, “I think you’ve found your architect.”
Against his better instincts, Diego returned to reading the comments online. The man posting the primary comments leveled accusations that Diego was taking business away from American companies. That much was right, but it was happening due to his business instincts, not his national origin. His business was also enriching a team of American drivers.
Diego scanned the rest of the posts to see if his relationship with Alan was mentioned. He was relieved to discover that all of the comments connected back to his business. Lewis could potentially cause some harm in that arena, but Diego had cash resources to weather a financial storm. He couldn’t find another Alan.
Before attending to the rest of his work for the day, Diego buzzed Rhea at the desk. He asked, “Are chocolates still a good romantic gift?”
“They’re the best, Mr. Flores. If you’re placing an order, Crowley’s down by the riverfront are the best.”
“Thank you. You never steer me wrong.”
Diego found the phone number for Crowley’s Chocolates. He placed an order and arranged for delivery to Alan’s home. Thinking about Alan biting into a morsel of dark, rich, gooey chocolate, Diego closed his eyes and sighed. He needed another night with Alan soon.
23
With Friends
Before Alan could say hello, he heard, “Come and stay with us and bring Boomer, too.” Brody refused to take no for an answer. “He’s welcome in our home, and I’m not-so-quietly trying to convince Dak that we should get a dog. If we’re having a baby, I think he or she should grow up with a pet.”
“I don’t want to impose.” Alan’s nerves remained on edge from the incident at his house, and he aimlessly pushed papers around his desk. “It was enough of an intrusion on you to have Dak drop everything and come to my place last night.”
“That’s what friends are for. I’ll expect you for dinner at six. Bring Boomer and bring a couple of days worth of clothes. We’ve got some planning to do.”
Alan asked Elaine to buy him a lunch salad when she went out, and he requested that she hold all calls for the afternoon. The office was a retreat space where Alan felt safe. It was a place where he could think. He needed time alone to sort everything out.
Alan tried to fight back his initial instinct. A few hours earlier, as he quietly crept down the stairs to avoid waking Dak in the morning, he thought about leaving Coldbrook Bend and finding a more anonymous existence in Des Moines, the Twin Cities or even Chicago. He could sell Auntie Erin’s house, put the most valuable family furniture pieces in storage, and save the money to buy a house in a comfortable neighborhood in the city.
While Dak wiped the sleep out of his eyes and accepted a mug of coffee, Alan talked about his ideas for the future. Dak shook his head saying, “You’re giving up far too easily. Coldbrook Bend is better than a few small-time thugs, and you’ll find them anywhere. We need men like you. Who else would Brody get to judge his parade floats?”
Alan smirked and stared across the kitchen table. “Can I make some breakfast for you? I can fry bacon and scramble eggs. Then I need to walk Boomer before I head to work.”
Dak scratched at his red beard and smiled. “I’ll make you a deal. You cook the breakfast, and I’ll walk Boomer for you. I like to enjoy the pets that belong to my friends and family. They usually seem to like me, and afterward, I get to go home. I don’t have to deal with veterinarians, dog food, and accidents on the rug.”
Alan reached a hand down to Boomer seated on the floor beside his chair. He scratched the wrinkly head and said, “The benefits far outweigh any costs.” Boomer moaned softly and lay down with his head resting on his front paws.
Alan rang the doorbell and waited on the front porch of Dak and Brody’s house. It was built a couple of decades later than Auntie Erin’s house in a classic Midwestern bungalow style. Brody decorated the front steps with potted plants. The bright pink and red geranium blossoms battled for attention with the lime-green sweet potato vines that spilled ov
er the edges of the containers and down the steps.
Boomer sniffed at a pot and startled a chipmunk hiding behind it. He lurched forward and nearly pulled Alan backward off the porch. A quick snap of the leash brought Boomer’s attention back to Alan. “Be a good guest, Boomer, and they might invite us back someday.”
Dak offered a warm hug in greeting, and Brody said, “Let him off the leash. I think I’ve dog-proofed the place. I bought him a few treats on the way home from work.”
Alan reached down to unsnap the leash. “You’re going to spoil him, and you’re probably going to spoil me, too. I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve this.”
Dak shrugged. “Friendship and generosity. It runs in Brody’s family, and I’m learning from him.”
Brody gestured toward the comfortable couch in the living room and asked, “Beer? Coke? Water? Make yourself at home. We’re not planning anything special for dinner. We thought about pizza and a movie night. It sounded relaxing all the way around.”
Alan eyed Boomer who was making a slow circuit around the perimeter of the room sniffing under furniture and in every corner. “It sounds perfect, and I promise that I’ll try to relax.”
A beer helped Alan relax. He sank further into the couch and barely noticed with the pizza delivery guy rang the doorbell. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket to help pay, but Brody said they already paid online. “I’ll owe you a dinner at my house sometime soon.” Alan heard the words come out of his mouth and smiled realizing it was the first time he didn’t call it Auntie Erin’s house.
Two bites into the sausage and pepperoni pizza, Dak asked, “So how are things with Diego?”
Alan shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s what this is all about. I wonder if I should back off. I keep worrying that I’m going to bring Diego’s business and my job down around us. We had a hot time in bed, but…”
“It’s more than that,” said Dak.
“Why do you say that?”
“That day down by the river. You can’t stop thinking about him. He haunts you, Alan. Help me here, Brody.”
“What did you see when you looked into his eyes?” asked Brody.
“I shivered, and I wanted to weep,” said Alan.
“Weep?” asked Dak. His forehead wrinkled, and he took another bite of pizza waiting for an answer.
“I don’t think I can have him. I’ve never met a more handsome man. I can’t see the future, and that upsets me.” He stopped himself and gestured toward Dak and Brody. “Sorry, the two of you are just as handsome.”
Brody laughed and shrugged. “You don’t have to be apologetic to us. You can think I look like an old crone for all I care. What matters to me is what that guy thinks.” Brody pointed to Dak. “He’s addicted to me, and that’s all that matters.”
“I wish I had a witty comeback,” said Dak, “But he’s right. What does your heart say about Diego, Alan?”
“I try not to listen.”
Brody raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I don’t want to listen, because it scares me. I know what I wish. I dream about Diego, but I keep the wishes to myself. It’s like they whisper to me when I’m asleep, but they’re silent. If I keep them in silence, maybe it won’t hurt so much when somethings dashes them on the rocks.”
“What do you wish?” asked Dak.
“Do I have to answer?”
“Only if you want them to come true,” said Brody. “Silent wishes are just that. They never come true, and they slowly fade away.”
Alan sighed heavily. “I see us living somewhere on an island or in a city that might as well be an island. We enjoy our life together, but everyone else ignores us. Diego and I are ourselves together, and of course, we have crazy hot sex.” Alan laughed, “I wake up so fucking hard.”
Silence reigned in the room for a few moments. “It’s a beautiful vision,” said Brody.
“Can we just watch the movies now?” asked Alan.
Thirty minutes after he fell asleep, Alan woke up hearing whimpering by the side of the bed. He rolled over to peer down at the shape of Boomer in the darkness. “Is there something wrong, buddy?”
Boomer stood up and scratched a paw at the blanket. It was too dark to see his eyes, but Alan could feel the distress in the air.
“Why don’t you…” He stopped himself. Boomer didn’t have his steps to climb into the bed. “How did I forget that?” asked Alan. He rolled out of bed and scooped all fifty pounds of Boomer into his arms. As he placed his faithful companion on the bed, Alan whispered, “You are worth ten times any bother.”
Alan slid back between the sheets saying, “And scoot over. This is a single bed, and we have to make room for both of us.”
Boomer waited until Alan stopped rolling around and laid his head on his sleeping partner’s feet. With a deep sigh, Boomer drifted off into the world of doggy dreams.
Alan woke with a start six hours later. At first, he couldn’t remember where he was sleeping. Alan turned his head this way and that looking for clues. When his eyes picked out a framed photo of Dak and Brody wearing graduation gowns, he remembered.
Before climbing out of bed, Alan reached down to the foot of the bed and patted Boomer’s head. He smiled when blood-shot eyes opened and stared into his face. He watched as Boomer’s nostrils began to work. “Do you smell it, buddy? That’s different than at home. I think that’s the smell of ham. It’s not bacon, but I bet you love ham.”
Boomer raised his head and pointed his nose toward the doorway exiting the room. He climbed to his feet and peered over the edge of the bed.
“Yep, it’s time for us to get up. I bet I can take you out for a few minutes and still be on time for breakfast.”
Brody offered Boomer a treat when he returned from doing his outdoor morning duty. He said, “Dak, look at how wonderful this is. He’s so sweet. It makes you want to have one of your own, doesn’t it?”
Dak sat at the kitchen table staring into a mug of coffee. In a scratchy, sleepy voice, he said, “No, not really.”
Alan laughed softly and seated himself to Dak’s right. “I’m not getting into the middle of this conversation.”
Brody scooped fried potatoes onto plates and said, “Dak doesn’t want anything at this hour of the morning. He’s Mr. Grumpy. Was he like that at your place?”
Dak looked up. “I was on my best behavior. Now I’m at home, and I can be myself.”
Brody pushed a plate in front of Dak. “This should help. Alan, how did you sleep?”
“Once Boomer got settled, I did fine. He takes up some space.”
Dak shook his head. “No dogs in my bed.” He took another sip of his coffee and tasted a bite of the potatoes. After he swallowed, Dak said, “Don’t give up on Diego, Alan. I’ll be disappointed if you do. We can deal with Lewis.”
“We?” asked Alan.
“Don’t give up easily,” said Dak. “You love Diego. Love has to win in the end.” He looked up and gazed across the table at Brody.
“What will we do?” asked Alan.
“Lewis is small in more ways than one. He’s vulnerable. He can be taught a lesson. We don’t have to be cruel, but he needs to be taught.”
Alan sliced into his slice of breakfast ham. “I think I’m in. I want to hear the plan.”
24
Riverfront Wisdom
Rhea was perplexed. She said, “Just two days ago, you were sending him chocolates, and now it’s over? You’re giving up, Mr. Flores?”
“Don’t you have these fairytale stories in America where you let someone go because you care so much that you can take the pain, so their life will be better without you? Someday you meet again, and you have a bittersweet smile on your face when you see his handsome husband and their three children.”
“That’s what you’re trying to do? Did you ask him if that will make him miserable?”
Diego pulled up a chair. He said, “Alan’s life was good without me. He had a dog and a good job. He was settling dow
n in a picture-perfect small town. Then the hot-headed Mexican reappeared, and suddenly his life was a mess.”
“Or he stepped onto one of the clouds in heaven,” whispered Rhea. “He’s got something to fight for now.”
“I don’t want to fight.” Diego looked down at the floor.
Rhea leaned in his direction and twisted her face upward to try and gaze into Diego’s eyes. “Can we talk outside of our work relationship, Mr. Flores?”
Diego looked up and brushed his fingers through his wavy black hair. He asked, “Do I have any meetings or calls scheduled for this morning?”
Rhea glanced at Diego’s morning to-do list. “None are listed here. Has anything come up since you gave me the list?”
“No, and I’ve got a crazy idea.”
“Crazy idea?”
“I think I need it, too,” said Diego.
“Can you tell me what it is?”
“We’re closing the office for this morning. We’re going down to the riverfront and taking a walk. We’re leaving work behind, and I’m talking to you as a friend. Is that okay with you, Rhea? This afternoon we’re professionals again.”
Rhea smiled. “I’d be honored, Mr. Flores.”
“Call me Diego.”
Rhea’s face flushed as she said, “Diego.”
It was a sun-drenched, warm, early summer day. Diego drove, and he stopped at the Paddle Wheel for morning pastries and a second cup of coffee. Rhea said, “I have a favorite bench down along the riverfront if we’re going for a walk. You get a perfect view of the barges as they float through the water.”
“That sounds perfect to me,” said Diego. He looked at the foam cup of coffee in one of Rhea’s hand and the small white paper bag holding the two pastries in the other. “Are we ready?”
“I think this is all we need.”
Rhea found her favorite bench, and they sat facing the broad river and the opposite bank in Wisconsin. Rhea said, “I used to come down here after my divorce. I stared out at the water for hours. I imagined all my troubles floating downstream. When I saw a log or a small boat, I thought they were gathering all of the garbage and towing it to New Orleans. It worked.” She paused and repeated the name, “Diego.”
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