“Be careful. Everything is dry, save that face by the corner of the house.” I stood back, letting her eyes explore.
“Is that…?” She leaned in closer still. Without turning her head from the painting, she asked, “You just added me? Recently?”
I moved behind her. “Yes. I had hoped to include you in it. You’re in the Blue painting, as a child, but I wanted you in this one for so many reasons. I thought I’d glimpsed you near my neighbor’s fence, and when I saw your hair, I knew it was destiny.”
She laughed; she cried, “VanJu said it brought out the heather in my eyes. I told her, ‘VanJu, no one notices the color heather.’ And she said, ‘Artists do, silly.’”
I laughed. “I think I’d like that girl.”
“I think she’d like you, too.” She just stared at her face in the painting, and then she picked up on everyone else.
“If you want, you can just stay inside and I’ll bring Roy in. Or…I could use your help to take out the painting.”
“VanJu’s waiting in the car.”
“I understand if it’s too much too soon. Text her to meet you at the front door.” I grinned, because I’d seen her press the phone against her chest. “She’s asking what’s up, isn’t she?”
Lyndie laughed. “How’d you know?”
“Ruthie—that’s Bern’s wife—does it to me all the time. I’ll be in here working, and she’ll be out in the living room texting me, bugging me, wanting to know if I’m finished yet. And I lean out the door and say, “I can’t work with all this dinging and vibrating.”
Lyndie laughed again. “I just told her to meet me at the front door.”
My phone went off, the familiar ding and vibrate. “There we go. Ruthie is asking about the painting.”
“OK,” Lyndie said. And then she was gone.
Honestly, I didn’t even know how to send a text. I walked to the kitchen and looked out the back door. “Ruthie, it’s nearly finished. I’m just waiting for it to dry.”
“To dry? You finished it three weeks ago. Did you add something?”
I smiled and wiped a tear from my eye as I closed the door.
In the hallway, I saw Lyndie clinging to her girlfriend for dear life. VanJu stood tall and lithe; her fiery red hair hung long from her head, and I knew in my heart I wanted to paint her, but she deserved her own painting. Perhaps I could add a hand, on Lyndie’s shoulder. I smiled and ran once more down the hall. I could hear them sprinting behind me.
They reached the door as I added that one last touch to the painting: a white hand on the shoulder and one sliver of a garnet head, about to turn around to face us.
“Uncle James…you added VanJu.”
“I wanted to include the entire family, and since they haven’t met you yet, the auburn touch should do it.”
Lyndie stepped to the side. “VanJu, this is my uncle, James Brash. Uncle James, this is my girlfriend, Vanessa Judith.”
I wiped my hands on a towel. “Vanessa Judith, I am honored to meet you.”
“Oh, come on. I’m the one who is honored. James Brash, in the flesh!”
I laughed bashfully. “Heather,” I said with a wink at Lyndie. “Her eyes are heather. Now, I’d love to chat, but I’ve got a painting that I need to deliver. Would you mind helping me take it out?”
VanJu gushed with excitement, “Oh, man…would I ever.” She looked into Lyndie’s eyes. “It feels genuine. They do miss you.”
“Yes, I know…I know. I don’t want to ruin your day, Uncle James.”
“Your presence will only brighten the day. Just follow behind, and I’ll bring your dad over.”
VanJu reached out her hand to Lyndie, and I reached out to her, too. “Hey, kiddo…you’re my daughter officially now, though I’ve always felt like more than just your uncle.” Tears were everywhere, but we were out of time. “We’ve got to get this going. Ruthie won’t wait forever.”
On cue, I heard the ding and vibrate, then I heard the call of my name, followed by a knock on the door.
“Yes, dear. I’m ready, and no need to help. I’ve got an assistant here.” I reached for the end that had Lyndie upon it and nodded to VanJu to grab the other end. “Ruthie, if you could just go back outside, make sure Roy is standing close to the tree, where we set up the easel.”
“Yes, I’ll head out there now.” She disappeared from view.
I shook my head. “That woman, she’s amazing, but so high strung.”
As we walked the painting down the hall, it all flooded my mind again. Yuri and Mary’s surprise, Joan and Linda, the sangria parties… A new generation would party in these halls, more experiments for art, for love, and for passion.
The Violet Square was larger than all the rest, but it was a square nonetheless. We carried it out and over to the tree, Lyndie walking behind it the entire time. My heart felt like it would burst from my chest. I had no idea if my paintings were good or if they were just my own reality, and I thought at that moment, I didn’t care what was said. I did it for my family, for all parts of it, and for the other LGBTQ folks who’d come after me.
When the applause died down, I presented the Violet Square, and soon after, I presented Lyndie to Roy. The family—my family—hugged.
Peter tapped me on the shoulder. “I don’t want to interrupt things, but can I just ask one final question?”
“Certainly.”
“After looking at this last painting, I can only conclude that you chose to paint the rainbow because of hope. Do you think you have accomplished this?”
“Hope, a bridge, success, a bow, and a necklace. The rainbow is in every culture because it is in every part of our lives. After a rainstorm, when the sun emerges, the rainbow appears.” I glanced across the yard to see the kids talking animatedly, JBQ in Lyndie’s arms. “Or when a child that an entire family has been missing forever reappears. I know the love of my life said yes to me this morning, and this afternoon he reunited with the daughter he’s never forgotten… I guess…what I’m trying to say, is yes. It’s about hope.”
* * *
THE END
Home is Where the Hard is
Notes
Originally published in the anthology Summer Bigger Than Others
Chad has a lot on his mind; a failing relationship, a deadline. He's looking forward to a month alone at his uncle's beach house. But within the first twenty-four hours there, his life is turned upside down. He gets a day of innuendos and unexpected sexual encounters.
I wrote this short story over two days, while waiting for my Husbear to get off work. It was written sitting in a car, while waiting for him to get off work one day.
It’s a taboo story, a little naughty and someday I’d like to get into Uncle Jason’s mind again, visit his youth in the ‘70s on Fire Island.
Home is Where the Hard is
Dedicated to…
* * *
Grace, Ashley, Michelle, and the slowest reader alive—Dave. Thanks for giving me the advice and taking the time to read something way outside your box of experience.
“Look, it’s over if you zip that duffel bag.” Nik stopped and looked into Chad’s eyes. “Then I’ll know you aren’t willing to fix this,” he said and turned to lean against the wall.
This was the same forty-five minute fight that had been going on for the past three months. Nik and Chad would agree to disagree, go about their business and then Chad would say something stupid and the fight would start again. But it was the first time an end to the five-year relationship was left hanging in the air.
They’d had their ups and downs. Chad firmly stated the relationship was open, that he could have other partners, and Nik went along with it for a long time. But when Chad said they needed to add a third to the relationship: that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. That was when the fighting began.
Chad had a deadline looming, and he knew the beach house would be the place to calm his mind, get him away from the constant arguing. And what that meant wa
s that the duffel bag needed to be zipped.
“Look, Nik…” he said and then shrugged. “I guess we’ll never fix each other. I want something you’ll never understand because you’re not willing to be open to more than just me.” He rubbed his face, grabbed a couple of books on the nightstand and tossed them in the bag before continuing. “Maybe books about threesomes are being written because it’s what authors want but can never get.”
“You never gave me a chance to explain. You have never listened to me, Chad. Ever.”
“I have. It’s gonna be over, and I’ve given up on your—” he made quotes with his fingers “—exploring more.” Chad zipped the bag closed, as Nik took a deep breath, sighed and gave up.
Chad stopped in the driveway, noting the midnight-blue sports car parked next to the garden. He’d just pulled the calendar up on his phone to verify the date and time was correct when the passenger door opened and his uncle slid into the seat next to his.
“Chad…I’m glad you made it, I know I said you’d have the run of the place. I’m just here another night. Nothing at all to worry about.”
“All right, Uncle Jason. I’ve never worried about you being here. Is that a new car?” Chad pointed to the Porsche.
“It was Pete’s idea. I think he’s trying to kill me off.” He placed his hand on Chad’s knee and squeezed. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
“Who’s Pete?” Chad asked as he pulled his duffel bag from the backseat and followed his uncle back to the house.
“My new-old boyfriend. Your father introduced us before he… I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine, Uncle Jason. He lived an awesome life. He and Mom were happy for a long time. He told me once in confidence that if he’d never found Rose, he would have married you in an instant.” Chad wrapped his arm around his uncle’s waist.
“He said that?” Jason’s hands clasped at his throat.
Chad grinned and left a gentle kiss on Jason’s cheek.
“It was the night I discovered that you weren’t my uncle, but a dirty old man that my pop secretly loved.” Chad smacked Jason’s; he secretly loved the old guy too.
“I’m not a dirty old man. I bathe every chance I get. We should go swimming later, and I’ll show you.” Those wicked eyes winked, and Chad felt as though his clothes had been ripped off, but he didn’t care at all. In fact, he couldn’t wait to get in the house and get comfortable.
“Won’t Pete mind you skinny-dipping with another guy?”
“He’s already in Europe on a book tour—he’ll meet me in Spain in a couple of days. I’m heading out later so he can have some play time without me hanging around.”
Chad motioned for Jason to follow him into the bedroom. “You mean the two of you don’t spend every minute of every hour together?” Chad laughed at himself even as the words left his mouth. He reached into the duffel to pull out some underwear, and on the second grab found the neon yellow and pink Andrew Christian jock. He heard staccato laughter from over his shoulder, and he grinned at Jason.
“Why don’t you put that on for later when we go swimming?” Jason suggested.
Chad could feel the blush beginning and wondered why he’d invited Jason to follow him into the bedroom in the first place. “Do you really need that fantasy in your mind before you head out to meet up with Pete?”
“Fantasy, my ass. I’m hoping to show you a good time before I leave. I’d hate to be a bad host. Unless that boyfriend of yours—Nik?—would have issues?”
And then Chad remembered the fight. He pushed it from his mind and reached for the jock. “Why wait till tonight? But can I at least start with a little privacy?” Chad pushed Jason into the hallway and pouted seductively as he closed the door.
Thinking about Jason, about what this man would do to him, made Chad put his clothes away faster. He stood in the middle of the room and undressed. As his hands moved over his defined muscles, he was grateful he had been swimming; the last few stubborn pounds were drifting away and beneath his fingers he felt a body that would one day be as strong as Jason’s. He picked up the Andrew Christian jock and laughed as he slipped it on. It had been a joke gift from a fuck buddy of his, for when he wore a kilt or something with easy access. He shoved himself inside the snug-fitting fabric, enjoying the way his ass felt in the jock. Chad found a pair of gray sweat shorts that he knew revealed almost everything when he sat with his legs spread, which he hoped to do at one point today. Before opening the door, he pulled on a loose, blue, Swallows T-shirt over his head and emerged to find Jason standing outside the room, in a white terrycloth robe with a gold monogram stitched on the left breast.
“Is that yours?”
“It’s mine because I’m wearing it. The initials are of someone I met in the Hamptons—some rich guy that Pete and I seduced. The three of us played all weekend, and I got this as a prize and remembrance.”
“This Pete seems like a boon for you. Why would you want me?”
“Because you are here, and I’ve had you before. I’d like you again without sticky strings, or the fear of your father walking in on us.”
Chad started laughing. “That summer was the best one ever. I think I was nineteen, right? Home from college, and you were showing me your new boat.”
“Well, I had the best of intentions. I didn’t expect you’d trip on me, or that your hand would end up where it did. Or that my body would react in that way, but I was sure happy that fate dealt the hand we got.”
“So was I.” Chad pulled Jason by the belt that was keeping the robe closed; the knot slipped a little. He was grateful that they were the same height, two men with arms wrapped around one another as their lips found their resting place. The softness of Jason’s mustache brought a smile to Chad’s lips, and memories of past hookups flooded his mind. Those thick lips caressed Chad’s as they connected, met, and moistened…he could taste the lingering mint of toothpaste, and he was lost. Jason’s lips moved down the chin to the neck, and if Chad hadn’t known better, he’d have thought that Jason was a vampire, the way he nibbled at his neck, the swirling twist of his tongue, followed by more nibbles.
All Chad could do was sigh in pleasure, his fingers gripping Jason’s ripped body, and soon he found himself untying the belt around Jason’s waist to reveal his muscular, tight frame. This man took care of himself; sure he was older, and Chad often wondered what he did to stay in such good shape. Then it flashed through his mind: this was what he did. Sex and conquest were what kept him young. But then images of Jason and his father invaded his thoughts, and he pushed Jason away.
“No…slow. We need to go slow. Besides—” Chad grimaced “—I just thought of Dad and you doing this.”
Jason laughed. “Well, you and your dad are very different men.” He inched his hand inside the back of Chad’s shorts, and Jason’s fingers gripped his ass.
Chad’s eyes grew large, and he grinned. “Well, you aren’t letting much get in the way.”
Jason twirled Chad around and slammed his chest against the wall, yanked down his shorts and before long Chad felt a sensation of wetness, but it wasn’t cum; it was spit. He felt his ass being spread, and Jason’s tongue traveled over him, stopping once or twice behind the balls, and poked at his ass. Chad couldn’t help the sounds escaping his throat, Jason’s fingers would flex and unflex, and then Jason added a finger to his tonguing so that he could speak.
“Boy, you’d done more than I’d done by the time you were twenty-two, are you trying to tell me you never did this?”
“Honestly…” Jason hadn’t stopped; he’d switch between tongue and fingers, sometimes both, sometimes two or three and the tongue. Chad found it hard to speak. “Unc.. Uc…Jason, I was the giver, not generally the receiver. Nik isn’t exactly a domineering sort; I had to take con…control. You are totally alpha dogging me here, and I…I…uh, I’m willing unless you wanna wrestle for it.” Chad tried to laugh, but he was lost in ecstasy, lost in the moment, and Jason didn’t seem like he was plann
ing on letting up anytime soon.
“That’s funny, with Pete, we take turns, but you get us in a threesome, and we suddenly make the third the one who gets both of us domineering. I think I’ve only been the bottom third with Pete and that guy in the Hamptons. Such a great fucking night.” Jason was using his fingers during that speech. Chad’s hand had snaked down under his balls, and his fingers connected with Jason’s.
Out of breath, sweating and turned on so fucking much, Chad raised a hand and said, “RED! Red…can we take it slow, I need a breather.”
“Wow, I haven’t heard you use red in a long time. Jason backed away and let his fingers slide out of Chad one, two, three…as the third released, Chad took a deep, ragged, exhausted breath.
“Think we could get a drink and sit on the patio? I mean, I believe I can sit. Were you preparing me for you? Or do you have a trick up your sleeve, Jason?”
He grinned, and Chad glimpsed his thick cock before he wrapped the robe around him. “Coffee? I’d prefer it if you were not getting drunk, I like to fuck sober men,” he said.
They walked into the white and green kitchen. There were little yellow curtains covering all the windows, nearly identical to the style his mom had at her house. “Did you and my mom share designers?” Chad asked and then laughed as he opened the stainless steel fridge and grabbed the heavy cream. “Oh! I love coffee with thick cream in it; it lets me fantasize about what the future might hold.” He smiled wickedly.
“Trust me, tonight will involve lots of cream, boy.” Jason looked up at the curtains, “Yeah, your mother and I found the designer in New York. She picked him out for me, because of his ass; I picked him out for her because of his knowledge of color and skill with butcher block. We were both satisfied with our experiences. Even after she found out that I’d been fucked on the counter before it was sealed.” Jason rubbed his hand over a very darkened section. “I only told her about that experience because she was talking about how perfect her counter was.” Jason turned to Chad. “I never told her what we did in her dining room chairs, but she loved Bob’s interior skills as much as I did.” There was that wink again.
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