“What’s that?” he asked.
“Forgive him.”
“And then what?”
“Well, you can forgive and start over, or you can forgive and let them go. That’s the part I have to figure out first.”
He stared at me for a moment, and I watched as something shifted in his eyes. Whatever he was holding onto, it was beginning to crumble so the light could finally shine through. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the sky, a smile unfolding on his lips.
He was strange, but in a good way.
“I think Basil should be our primary subject,” I said a moment later.
His smile rose out of the ground like a sunflower. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“His story is interesting, and if we can get him to trust us, maybe we can get him to dig deeper and let us in his life enough to score an interview with his wife or his son. Get both sides of the story on how living this lifestyle affects everyone involved.”
Without a warning, he stepped into my space and pulled me into a hug. I was tense at first, but then slowly melted into it. It was the kind of hug that said thank you. It said—you and I… we’re on the same sinking ship, and it’s time we swam for shore.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and let him hang on for as long as he needed to, even when he began to violate my personal-space policy. There was something about James that made it okay for me to break that rule.
“I’m glad you’re here, Hartley,” he said against my ear. “No matter what… always give me the truth. Always be real with me.” His breath was warm, and his voice felt too close. Felt like Hudson’s smoky words leaving his lips. Felt like I was in Hudson’s arms.
I pulled out of the hug. Folded and then unfolded my arms.
“Relax,” he said with a smirk. “You’re cool with me.”
Cool.
“I’ll talk with Basil, see about getting him to sign on,” he said. “See you in the morning?”
I nodded and walked off.
FEBRUARY 24, 2016
BANG. BANG. BANG.
I shot up in my bed, clawed from the edges of a vivid dream. The room was glazed in sleep as my mind tried to discern if I was still in the gas station, fighting with Hudson to take the coffee I bought, or somewhere else. It felt so real. The scent of his cologne still lingered in my nose. If I reached out, I swear I could…
Bang. Bang. Bang.
I rubbed my eyes, my tongue grinding like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. The coffee shop was gone, replaced with the loud snores of my coworkers.
I groaned, and then glanced at my watch with one eye open to level the blurriness.
5:33 AM.
What demon would show himself this early in the morning?
“Hartley, it’s James. You awake?” Though his voice was dulled through the door, there was no mistaking the excitement in his tone.
“Of course!” I shouted with a grimace. Why did he have to be an early riser? Glancing to my right, I saw Sarah and Matt were still fast asleep. Sarah with her hot pink sleep mask, and Matt with his headphones in.
Really?
A second later, a burst of warm golden light shot through the doorway. I got out of bed so quick I ended up tangling with the sheet I’d kicked off in the night, and down I went.
I hit the floor with a hard thud. Square on my butt.
James was right there, biting back a laugh as he tried to help me up. “You cool?”
He was wearing only shorts, a sheen of sweat covering his muscular body.
I gulped.
“Like an ice cube,” I said, standing and trying my best to straighten the mess atop my head. There was no taming that beast. Not without a hot shower and plenty of Moroccan oil. “What’s up? I thought we weren’t scheduled to begin until seven?” I said as I rubbed my tailbone.
“We weren’t. I met with Basil this morning. He’s also an early riser. Enjoys a good jog to wake himself up. He agreed to let us tail him. He loves the idea of being the subject.”
“You mean star,” I said with a grin.
“Well, yes. That’s how I pitched it to him.”
He glanced down, and I realized I was wearing only a long T-shirt with cotton shorts underneath.
And no bra.
I folded my arms across my chest. “Did you ask about his son? We have no story without him.”
He grinned. “With charm and some flattery, I did get him to agree. He’s going to talk with him. All we can hope for is that his son will be up for it.”
“We have to make it happen,” I said, feeling the touch of a good story tapping my arm for attention.
“We will,” James assured.
“Hey, boss,” Matt said as he propped up on an elbow. His eyes weren’t quite open, hair matted at an odd angle to his head.
James chuckled and nodded in greeting. “Matt.”
“Am I late for work?”
“No. Go back to sleep,” James said, smiling at me. “You can too, if you want,” he said a second later. “I just figured I’d stop by and let you know since you were so keen on using him for the story. See you at seven.”
He started to turn, but I said, “I… I’m up now. I can grab a shower, and then meet you for breakfast if you’d like?”
Stars twinkled in his eyes. “Okay. How about we meet at my cabin in thirty?”
“Okay,” I said.
JAMES WAS SITTING ON THE stoop in front of his cabin. He had a box of doughnuts resting next to him.
My mouth watered.
“I love that we can have food delivered nowadays. Makes life so much easier.” He moved the box so I could sit next to him.
I lowered myself tentatively, still sore from my earlier fall. Thankfully, the Tylenol I’d taken was starting to kick in.
He sat the box on his lap, and then opened it. A spread of perfection sat before me.
I went for the glazed one topped with bacon.
“Now all we need is coffee, and we’re set.” I took a large bit.
Like a genie, he reached behind him and grabbed two large, steaming coffees.
“Oh my God,” I said through a mouthful of heaven. “You’re a saint.” I took a sip. It was prepared the way I liked it. I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Three sugars and a splash of cream?”
I nodded, eyes dipping in surprise.
“I’m a details man,” he said with a small, humble shrug. His humbleness was his weapon, used like a wrecking ball against my carefully constructed walls.
I crammed another bite into my mouth. Men and their details are what got me here in the first place, I thought. I was on a hiatus from men. A real one this time. My heart was a full-capacity motel. No room for another.
“You want to know a secret?”
I swallowed. “Who doesn’t?”
The corner of his lips hooked into a grin. “I’m like Basil.”
“You’re gay?” I asked, eyes widening.
The laughter that spilled past his lips was sugary and sweet, and I felt my heart softening like a pad of warmed butter.
“No,” he said when he caught his breath. “Why would you think that?”
I laughed a little, too. “Well, you’re not black, so…”
“My name,” he said, still laughing. “I changed it when I became a director. No one knows that.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He tilted his head to the side and shrugged a little. “My dad.” He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “If directing ever worked out for me, I didn’t want him to come across my name and show up for a handout.”
“But why the name?”
“Taiga is my middle name.” His hands were on the move again. Any time he was spirited about something. His words were his orchestra, and his hands were his composer. “My mom told me she gave me that middle name because she saw the forest in my eyes. Taiga’s a biome.”
“Yeah,” I said, middle school geology bru
shing the dust off my memories. “Coniferous forests, right? Sort of like where we’re at.”
His grin was lethal. Smoky and wild. “Exactly.”
“What’s your real name?” I asked, pulled in by the lure of a good secret.
He nudged me with his shoulder, a wicked smile spreading his lips. “That’s something I save for pillow talk.”
“What a prize,” I joked. “Sleep with me and I’ll tell you my real name.”
“Hey, now. There’s power in knowing a name,” he said, chuckling. “Besides, I left that part of myself behind. Evolution. It’s what life’s all about, you know?”
“Yep,” I said, glad our thoughts weren’t as transparent as our emotions.
He took a hearty sip from his coffee. “I haven’t told anyone.”
I looked over at him.
“My name. Some demons should be laid to rest, you know?”
“In a strange way, I do. There were many times I thought about legally changing my name to my mother’s maiden name. But every time I’d think about doing it, I’d shove the thought away, because carrying my father’s name meant carrying the truth. Every time I see it or hear it, it reminds me why I’m on the path I’m on. It’s the heated coals I cross, barefoot.
He nudged me again, his grin a warm, welcome sign. “It’s effortless.”
“What is?” I asked, tossing small pieces of my doughnut to the birds a few feet away from us.
“Talking to you,” he admitted, something shifting in his tone.
I glanced over at him, feeling like I was watching something unfurl from a distance. I didn’t want to be attracted to him, but I was. Only, it felt different. It wasn’t sexual. It was the attraction people felt to someone they knew should be in their life. They couldn’t figure out why, just that they were meant to be there.
I could be okay with that. I could manage that.
“DID SOMEONE ASK FOR A superstar?” Basil asked as he waltzed into the kitchen where we were set to film. James already had the camera rolling in anticipation of Basil’s grand entrance.
One of Basil’s daily tasks was to prepare the breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the guests should they choose to eat at the resort’s restaurant.
I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a restaurant. It was more like a downgrade from a small diner, but with the same cleanliness and charm.
I noticed how the crew’s eyes zoomed in on Basil. It was hard not to. His presence was like a shiny new fishing lure dropped in the water. We were all hooked.
“Pink,” I said, wiggling my finger around my neck area to indicate his scarf.
He gave the scarf a light toss over his shoulder. “I prefer to call it rosé, honey. It’s fancier. And it matches my apron. Food safety rules. Do you like?”
He spun in it as if it were a dress. The front said kiss my grits.
There was some laughter in the room. Basil ate it up. So did I.
“So, why this resort?” I asked, diving right into the questions.
He moved through the kitchen like he’d done it a million times. Pans were set on the stove, burners ignited. The oven was preset. A juicer was placed beside a blender. It was magic watching him move, like a dancer on a stage.
“You know, people are so quick to think there has to be some big explanation behind why people make the decisions they do. As if each of us actually thinks things through before we do them. I mean, sure, some of us might plan ourselves to death, but what most don’t realize is that you can’t plan life, honey. It does whatever it wants whenever it wants.”
I looked to James for guidance. Basil was going to be hard to keep on point.
Basil turned to the camera, spatula aimed at it. “But to answer your question, I didn’t choose this resort. It chose me. I was driving home from work, and decided to take the scenic route. That’s when I came across this place. It was the name. Bare Freedom.” He closed his eyes as he said it, chin lifted, as if he were speaking to the heavens. “I remember pulling off. Putting my car in park. The afternoon heat licking my forehead as I stood in front of the gates.
“There was a young man there. He was nude, and I should have felt uncomfortable, but I didn’t. I was curious. He explained a little of what the place was, and then gave me a pamphlet. The next week, I told my wife I had a business trip to attend over the weekend. I came here. And the rest is history.”
I instantly took my thoughts back. He was going to the best subject I’d ever worked with.
BY THE TIME THE BREAKFAST rush was over, Basil was tossing his apron aside and guiding us back to his place. He lived on the other side of the park where the employees stayed. His cabin overlooked the lake, sidled up with river rocks and mulch. Spring came to mind as I took in his place. He kept a small garden in front. Richly colored flowers and herbs sprouting up from the earth, leaning out like hands reaching for his care.
His porch had a rocking chair painted in a flurry of colors. Fabric in hues of bright yellow, pinks, and oranges were draped from the trusses. There were painted pots with blooming shades of purples and rich blues.
“It’s a bit extra, I know, but what’s a home without character?”
The crew waited outside as James did his best to capture the essence of Basil through his things.
“Is that your son?” I asked, pointing to the picture beside his bed. It was of Jeremiah, not Basil, dressed in a well-tailored suit. No evidence of colorful scarves or bright eye shadow. He had an arm around the neck of another man who looked like a younger version of him.
“It is,” Basil said, the pride in his voice filling the room like a puffed-up chest. He picked up the picture, eyes gazing adoringly at the photo. “I spoke with him this morning, and he agreed to be a part of this.”
“He did?” Excitement surged through my veins.
Basil seemed as if he could burst through the roof, straight for the sky. As if he had his own machine and Wonka had told him he was the winner.
“I didn’t think he would,” he continued, his eyes misting over. “We’ve only just begun repairing our relationship… I didn’t want to force anything on him he wasn’t comfortable with.” He laughed, the sound soaked in nerves. “I… uh… he only found out I was gay a couple of years ago.”
“Oh, I didn’t know,” I said.
His eyes caught mine. “Everyone has secrets.”
“Does he know…” I paused, trying to find the politically correct way of asking, only to come up short.
“Does he what? Know I like to dress feminine?”
“Yeah.”
Basil’s eyes dropped. “I wanted him to be comfortable. Throwing all of this,” he said, showing off his body, “in his face… would have been a lot to take in. Just getting him to accept why I’d left, and that I was gay was hard enough. He’s always seen me as his dad, with the image of what a dad is supposed to be from TV and movies impressed in his mind. He’s narrow-minded in that sense.”
Eyes widening, I cut my gaze to James before returning it to Basil. “So will you go as Jeremiah, or as Basil?”
I felt for him when he sat on the edge of his bed. Rested the portrait carefully back where it was, and then settled his gaze on his fingernails painted lilac. “Both,” he said, looking up to the camera like a well-trained actor. “I’ll go as both. I am both. I love both.”
A warmth spread through the air as we smiled at each other.
“Good,” James said. “That’s a wrap.”
MARCH 5, 2016
IT WAS THE FIRST TIME we’d left the resort since the start of the shoot.
Malick, Basil’s son, agreed to meet us at a small, secluded park near a local hiking trail. Already my mind was spinning with imagery and metaphors. We could take a small hike, gather excellent footage, all while showcasing the journey of a father and son. A nudist and a realist. Nature and Society, finally meeting in the middle.
“Lord, I’m so nervous,” Basil said as we headed down the winding road in our van.
I reached
over the seat and took the hand he offered, squeezing it for reassurance. His nails were a deep sunflower yellow. “Confidence,” he said the shade was. He wore cream linen pants that belled at the bottom, and a rosy chiffon top with sleeves that draped elegantly at his sides. He was a vision when dressed, and made me feel squirmy inside my stained, ripped overalls and plain white T-shirt.
“It will be fine, Basil,” I said as I leaned near his ear. “He loves you. He’s already forgiven you. Now he gets to meet the real you.”
“If only it were that easy.”
I’d never seen him so nervous. It was like watching an old oak tree bending in high winds. Resolve splitting and cracking under the pressure of an unseen force.
“I think we’re here,” James said from the driver’s seat a moment later.
Malick was already sitting on the top of a picnic table, staring out into the woods. He stood when we parked.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Basil turned in his seat. His eyes were that of a spooked cat, big and round and trying to retreat.
I grabbed his hand again and held it between both of mine, strength pouring through my skin, into his. Basil had somehow found a small cubby hole in my heart and taken up residence there. I’d be damned if I didn’t do everything I could to help him. “You can, Basil. You’re strong. You’re smart. You love your son, and he deserves the chance to love the real you.”
He searched my eyes before nodding, building the layers of confidence back up within his mind.
“Let’s get the release forms signed, and then we’ll begin shooting,” James said. Janice was already heading for Malick, shaking his hand and offering him the paperwork.
Once everything was squared away and James was ready, he slid the door to the van open, and then Basil stepped out. A cool breeze greeted us, leaves dancing along the ground. We followed him as he closed the small distance to Malick. Brian, the other camera guy, already had a camera on Malick to catch his reactions.
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