Ashes to Ashes

by Jason Banks

  They held each other for several moments until Max’s head brushed across the side of Durango’s face where both sets of lips met the tips of one another. Max wondered if this was too far of an advance and he paused in fear that the guy was going to pull away instantly. However, the small glide of Durango’s tongue across his bottom lip was the confirmation Max had been seeking. While Durango’s hand traveled the length of Max’s spine to the back of the photographer’s head, Max graciously accepted the psychologist’s tender exchange. In the dim room, they laid for another handful of minutes swapping passionate kisses as hints of Sam Smith’s tenor melody delivered goosebumps throughout Max’s entire body.

  “Argh,” Durango sighed.

  Max stopped immediately, thinking he’d done something wrong, as per his usual sense of fight-or-flight response. “What?”

  “You said you had some antacids, right?” Durango asked, rubbing his hand across his belly.

  Max rolled away from the older man’s handsome visage and propped himself up to head over to the bathroom.

  “Yeah, I totally forgot. How many do you want?” He asked, flipping the switch to the vanity lights.

  Durango rolled to his other side facing the bathroom. “Just bring the bottle,” he cooed. “I usually just tip it up like a beverage and take in whatever portion my body wishes to take.”

  Max raised an eyebrow. “Kinky, aheh.”

  “Not that, sir. You certainly aren’t lacking imagination with a dirty mind like that, are ya?” Durango bit back. “I mean, I wouldn’t object to giving you a job.”

  “You mean a blow job?” Max clarified, knowing full well that the man hadn’t been too involved with his sexuality since fleeing from the confines of his hetero marriage with Bethany.

  “Yes, smarty pants,” Durango laughed. “That’s what I meant.”

  Max smiled into the mirror. Looking into his reflection of what showed a glowing sense of happiness. Not shame or regret like the previous male interaction with the dickhead auto dealer. But a genuinely warm appearance.

  “So what happened here, if I may ask?” Durango questioned from the bed, pointing his forefinger in the direction of the small gash in the wall.

  Max switched the bathroom lights off and stepped back into the room with his bottle of antacids. “Oh yeah, that. Let’s just say I got the news about Lily’s wonderful grandparents in Paris on my taxi ride from the airport to the hotel.”

  “Ohh?” Durango replied.

  Max handed him the bicarbonate tablets as he sat on the side of the bed Durango was positioned, inching his buttocks into the man’s outstretched legs. “Not Rolaids, but will Tums suffice?”

  “That’ll do.”

  As Max let out a loud exhale, he placed a palm to the side of his temple. “So I wound up reading the letter my sister emailed over and chucked the whole iPad toward the wall out of absolute rage.”

  Durango finished tilting the bottle of stomach relief and allowed a few tablets to escape through the bottle’s opening. He crunched them slowly while mouthing his reply.

  “Seems like a reasonable reaction, maybe an expensive one,” Durango offered, chewing the last remnants of the Tums, returning the bottle to the adjoining nightstand.

  Max cried out. “I can’t lose her, Durango. What would I do?”

  Durango scooped Max’s smartphone from the table, looking into the device as if it were a foreign object.

  “How do you turn the music off this thing?” Durango asked gently as tears trailed down Max’s face.

  Max gestured with his right hand. “Give it here.”

  “You know, I think some of this custody stuff might just boil down to a lack of understanding. Almost like a miscommunication,” Durango replied, stroking his left hand across Maxwell’s backside from shoulder to shoulder.

  Max turned his head. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, it sounds like to me…” Durango paused, using his right arm to prop himself upward at the edge of the bed next to Max’s side. “They haven’t been around you very much, especially through the last handful of years of your sobriety.”

  “Mmkayy… and…” Max muttered, while embracing both of Durango’s grasped hands around his tense shoulders.

  “And they don’t know how you’re doing with this trauma of losing…”

  Max added, “Brogan…”

  “Right. They don’t know how you’re dealing with all this. They’re probably more scared of something happening to Lily, not knowing if you were to fall of the wagon.”

  “But I’m not going to go flying off the rails, Durango,” Max uttered, twisting his head to the side. “I love Lily with every ounce of my soul.”

  “That’s my point, babe.”

  “What is?”

  Durango finished rubbing Max’s backside. “They just need to understand you better. I almost think it would benefit sitting down with them in some capacity, if you have a way to do it. Clear the air. Shake hands, come to an agreement of sorts. Offer Lily for a week or two during one of her school breaks each year.”

  Max shrugged while rubbing his eyes dry. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Yeah,” Durango added. “Make them an active part of her life. That might just be enough to offer a sort of peace treaty between your world and theirs.”

  “You’re probably right, you know. That’s a valid point.”

  Max twisted his body around to nudge Durango’s back to the top of the bed, as his own body toppled over him.

  “That was one of the best back rubs I’ve had in months,” Max admitted, looking into Durango’s sincere stare.

  Durango murmured low. “There’s more where that came from.”

  B,

  I still miss you with each breath I take. Things aren’t the same without you here. Your help. The words you’d use to comfort me. But I have to say, I think I’ve met someone. His name is Durango, and we seem to have some things which just sort of ‘click.’ I’m not sure where this road is gonna lead, but I do know for sure ‘Lil and I are moving to Seattle, Washington.

  I found the most appropriate space for the three of us. I say three, because Melanie will be coming with us. In your absence, if there is one main source of support and help I can rely on—it’s her. I know you’re watching over us and keeping us safe, no matter how many mistakes I might seem to be making along the way. I slept with that guy from the AA meeting, almost as if it were some rebound. It didn’t feel right at all and I am so sorry that I did. I do not take our love for granted and your memory is not in vain.

  I just can’t seem to wrap my head around not having you in my arms anymore. It’s great to spend more time with Lily, but in a romantic capacity, I need something. Then this guy Durango Walters came around. Actually at the recommendation of Dirk, the pharmacist from Rite Aid. But, not in the way he was thinking it would. Instead of being Lily’s therapy provider, it’s looking like he’s going to be the next man I explore a life with. I won’t get my hopes up, and I will definitely not jump the gun. But… if you think this is right, would you send me a sign? I miss your presence. Every day. Every minute.

  Durango suggested I sit down face to face with your parents. I’m not sure I have the strength to get through something like that. They have never liked me, and I don’t even know if it’s because I’m not Jewish. There’s a lot to your religion and culture, I still don’t understand. Maybe if I really did sit down with them, we could come to an agreement? Some sort of understanding?

  At any rate, I will be exploring that when I get back to Denver. I already have a bunch on my mind that I have to get done in order to move.

  Love you. Miss you. – Max

  “Maxie, why are all these people running?”

  In this moment, Max realized it was a long time since Lily had been exposed to the elements of an airport. She was a few years younger when Brogan took Max and the munchkin to Switzerland for a conference at the World Health Organization headquarters. Of course, she was about four, so s
he might not remember the trip as well as if she’d been older.

  Melanie chuckled. “That’s because they are bad at time management,” she alluded, clutching Lily’s hand as they strolled through the terminal of John F. Kennedy airport—the mecca of international travelers.

  This wasn’t anything Max wasn’t used to seeing on more than one occasion.

  “Oh so they’re lazy!” Lily blurted.

  Max nodded, stopping the girls and crouching down at his haunches to look Lily at eye level.

  “Sort of, babe. Sort of,” he smirked. “But let’s not say those things out loud, because they can be hurtful to others. Okay, honey bunny?”

  Lily curled her head. “Okay, Maxie.”

  While Max stood back up, Melanie took Lily by the hand again and they began pacing toward the bay of seats which overlooked a view of big planes approaching closer, to park at their respective terminals. Distracted by the incoming plane being seen passing by the giant wall of windows, Lily gasped while unclasping her grip from Melanie’s.

  “Lily, get back here,” Max shouted modestly. “Well…” he paused, shrugging his shoulders while shaking his head. “Just stay there.”

  Max figured that would be a good way to distract her from the crowds of a busy airport. He started picking up on certain non-verbal cues and knew how to be more mindful of the stimulation in any of her direct environments. Before his husband passed, the usual person who was immediately responsible for Lily was Brogan—since he was generally away from town nine out of ten times when she’d have a fit. Meanwhile, he watched the young girl have some level of awe, which only occurred on a very rare occasion since Brogan’s departure from this life.

  “Well, do you suppose she’s gonna work out some of that energy and fall asleep on the plane?” Melanie joked, pushing her elbow into Max’s ribs.

  Max nodded his head. “Yeah, I reckon this Dramamine will help with that should her energy not be fully expended before kicking in.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good enough,” Melanie chuckled. “May be easier than tiring her out. Wait how many times has she even flown?”

  Max scratched at the crown of his head, while he and his sister planted their butts in two seats next to where Lily was staring out from the window at the activity going on outside.

  “Gosh, just the one time I think when we went to Geneva.”

  Melanie tilted her head at the subtle chime from her cellphone, alerting her of an incoming text message. “That’s probably Mom.”

  Max tried to think about why he hadn’t heard from Durango all day. Other than the fact they three of them were sort of out of pocket anyway from flying since early in the morning. But it was strange to not even have a simple thinking of you voicemail. Voice calls were the typical method of communication between he and Durango, for the most part. While Brogan may have been keener on the technological advances, however Durango seemed to be technically challenged, from at least what Max could deduce at the current time. Conversely, he’d be the same way if he were a photographer from the Eisenhower presidency.

  While Melanie dialed Marilyn back in Carmel, Maxwell turned his attention to Lily, while wondering if perhaps Durango just got busy and lost track of time that day. Whatever the case may have been, Max was certain that Durango and Gage were safe. The thought of meeting Gage was nerve-racking and exciting all at the same time. One on token, it settled his nerves knowing that Lily would have someone right off the bat who she could finally play with. He figured the transition from one place to the other would be enough change already. On the other side of the coin, he wasn’t sure what kind of impression Gage would get from him when they finally met. From personal experience, he knew Lily had her own social battles.

  “Sweetie, your nose is running,” Max advised, reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve a travel sized Kleenex. If there’s one thing among the many other parts he quickly learned, tissues were a mandatory item which required ease of access at any given moment.

  He giggled slightly as he held the thin ply of material up to Lily’s nose. “K, missy. Blow.”

  Of course, he realized just how much of a mommy he may have seemed to be playing in such a public place as an airport. The amusement was enough to place most of his nerves at ease. He never wanted to display his stress around Lily, because none of these situations were her fault and he didn’t want her to have unnecessary anxiety than she already would contain. Caveat, none of his situations were really his fault either. His ten years of sobriety were enough to prove that he was capable of being seen in a different capacity raising a kid, regardless if they were on the spectrum or not. But Max was ever the budding pessimist. And he knew that he needed to take a modicum of blame for how the Baxter brood was dealing this custody battle. Sure, they more than likely saw him as a totally unfit parent, because they haven’t ever been a part of his life when he was with Brogan. That said, Maxwell knew he had to put a stop to that and perhaps, he hoped, his willingness to share Lily in some capacity would call off their legal henchmen and the custody case altogether. At least, he knew inside his heart, it didn’t hurt to at least try pushing fate to the outer veil of his expectations.

  “There. Isn’t that all better,” Max sighed, patting ‘Lil on the back, while stuffing the soiled tissue back into his opposing pocket with every intention of discarding it when close to a waste bin.

  He raised his left arm to show the time from his Apple Watch. 5:02 PM

  “They’ll start letting us on here in just a few minutes,” Max spoke, not really directed at either of the girls specifically.

  For a brief minute, he finally realized what it may have felt like being the typical modern-day housewife—spouse occupied with their phone and kids who never would seem to be paying attention. If this was any key moment when he started to feel the real emotions of being a solely dedicated parent, this was his glimpse into what he’d need to get used to. Only, add to that a seriously hot older man in one arm, and an extra hyperactive child besides just his own. Joy. Fotherhood (he figured that’s what other gay fathers would probably consider themselves in the context of being both ‘mom’ and ‘dad’) is gonna be a blast.

  ***

  At the peak of their ascent aboard the Delta Airbus A350, Max took note of Lily already completely conked out with much thanks to the Dramamine he’d given her prior to boarding the longest stretch of their itinerary. It went without saying, he was happy she did fine on the shorter flight to New York, but there wouldn’t be any telling how the prolonged motion over the Atlantic Ocean would make her tummy feel. Among the three columns of seats, which turned into makeshift beds, Max selected the middle section so he could have immediate sights on Lily next to him, while Melanie was positioned on the opposite side of the aisle to him.

  “Oh my god, Mel. I hope they’re able to come to their senses about this,” Max sighed, planting the palm of his hand to his forehead. He’d sweat so much from nerves, the chances of developing sweat pimples on his head were relatively high.

  Melanie shook her head. “Max, please. Calm down,” she offered. “I’m sure it’s gonna be better doing this than waiting and dealing with them in mediation and shit. You’re doing a great job,” he assured him.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s just…”

  “Stop it, or I’m gonna shove some of ‘Lil’s Dramamine down your throat,” Melanie asserted.

  Maxwell knew she was probably right. But the whisper of doubt always lingered in the bottom of his gut, like a festering parasite feeding off the lining of his intestines, inch by inch. What he couldn’t shake, was the feelings of Brogan’s faith diminishing little bits each year they were together. As Orthodox as Orthodox could be—that was the Baxter clan through and through. However, Max’s reluctance to convert left his husband to consider making certain compromises. In the later years of Brogan Baxter’s life, he’d have considered himself more of a Reform Jew than anything. Albeit, he never did work on a Saturday if he could absolutely help it.

&nbs
p; He snickered. “Alright, I’ll shut up.”

  “Good,” Melanie retorted, reaching for the in-flight menu. “I think they’re about to start the dinner service. Leave it to me to get excited about that, right?”

  ***

  The mellow, friendly female voice from overhead perked Max from his light slumber as he propped himself up, wiping his eyes as if they’d almost glued shut. He must have been asleep for at least an hour, which was a good thing. According to the flight attendant, their plane was about to make its descent into London-Heathrow Airport. He glanced over to notice Lily had already been awake, her attention deep within his iPad Netflix app watching “Madagascar.”

  Melanie peaked out from her seat. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

  “Did you slip a roofie in my soda when I was in the bathroom, or was that all me?” Max joked.

  “I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret from you if I had,” Melanie giggled. “Okay, okay. So I crushed up a Dramamine when you were in the bathroom a couple hours ago.”

  Max gasped. “Mel!”

  “Oh calm down. It was all you, brother. Trust me. You needed whatever nap you were able to get…” she stalled. “What were you dreaming of? You and that hunk American version of Mr. Darcy, doing the nasty nasty on our living room coffee table? His office? The bathroom at Dunkin’ Donuts?”

  Melanie continued to tease her brother, obviously trying to get him to stay in good spirits.

  “Nooooo, but yes, Durango and I were having a,” he began with air quotes—“moment”—in some fancy hotel room somewhere. He was just about to tell me something serious, then that blasted ding woke me up.”

  His recently pestering sister raised an eyebrow. “So he was taking it down pretty deep, huh? Did he choke?” she laughed. “Is he a good lay? Lord, it’s been years since I have even had a slight moment of passion.”

  Max knew she was only joking. But his newly acquired full-on parental instincts were right there at the forefront of his mind. Whether Lily was wearing headphones or not, he certainly did appreciate her efforts. Yet, he remained unconvinced it was appropriate chitchat for his seven-year-old princess.