by Nick Poff
“I’ll be dipped in shit,” he muttered. “Who would’ve ever thought?”
He looked around the quiet room. He tried to remember living there before Rick had come into his life, but couldn’t. Every room, every piece of furniture seemed a part of their life together. Even Jett, asleep in his easy chair, seemed as much Rick’s cat as his own.
Claire was right; he was exhausted. But he knew he wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t even consider crawling into that bed without Rick. He looked at the records scattered on the floor near the stereo. He didn’t want to listen to them until Rick was back, ready to dance with him again, calling him “baby” with love in his eyes. The common endearment had almost annoyed Ed at first, but now he was so used to it, he couldn’t imagine not hearing it every day, hearing the love in those two syllables.
He looked at the clock. If Rick had left Porterfield around seven o’clock, it would be after nine before he reached Indianapolis. Would he stay over or come home? Ed supposed there was nothing to do but wait.
By nine-thirty he was about to climb the walls. He didn’t want to go to bed, and he didn’t want to be alone in the house. He couldn’t stay there without Rick. The hell with doctor’s orders, he had to get out of there. He picked up the phone and called Gordy.
“Hell-lo,” Gordy answered.
“Hey, Gord, it’s Ed. Whatcha doing?”
“Me? On a Saturday night? Oh, I’m having a hell of a good time. Got an orgy going, what do ya think? I’m sitting here in front of the tube, waiting for that shitty new Saturday Night Live to come on. Man, that show has sucked since the original cast left.”
Ed found himself smiling. Gordy’s nonsense, his usual bitching, sounded reassuringly normal. “Well, I was wondering, could I come over for a while?”
“Sure. Hell, I’d love the company. But where in the hell is Rick?”
Ed let out a long breath. “That is a very long story. I’ll tell you when I get there, okay?”
He slowly pulled himself together, putting on his sneakers, hunting down his truck keys. He knew he should hang around if Rick should happen to call, but he’d been cooped in that house for over four days. He wished he had an answering machine so he could leave a message for Rick, but he’d never had to worry about it before. Everyone else seemed to be getting them these days, so he supposed he would too now that Rick was moving in. Yes, he told himself, Rick was moving in.
“Oh, God,” he whispered. “Bring him home safe. Don’t let him crash the car on I-69. Please let me see his face, let me tell him that everything’s okay for us now.”
With one last, lingering glance at the silent phone, Ed left the house.
* * * * *
Shit,” Gordy exclaimed when he’d heard the whole story. “Why didn’t Claire call me when that bastard showed up? Hell, I’da hauled his ass down to the post office, dumped him in a box postmarked Anywhere But Here, and let him sit there in the dark until Monday.”
“Well, I’m sure she didn’t think of it, Gordy, but maybe she will next time,” Ed said wearily.
“Next time! Ed, there’s not gonna be a next time, trust me.”
“What do you mean?”
Gordy, sighing impatiently, reached for his cigarettes. “The minute Rick dumps that guy in Indy, hopefully in a ditch somewhere on 465, he’ll never see him again. There’s no way in hell that guy is gonna bother Rick again after tonight.” He lit a cigarette, blowing smoke. “Rick may have put up with that shit before he met you, but he won’t now.”
“I wish I felt as sure as you do,” Ed said, coughing.
“Aw, geez, I forgot you’ve been sick.” Gordy reached for an ashtray to stamp out the cigarette.
“No, no.” Ed waved his hand. “I’d be coughing, smoke or no smoke. Enjoy it. Please. Hell, I’m half tempted to ask you for one.”
Gordy brought the cigarette back to his lips, looking relieved. “Okay, I’ll smoke, but you’re not. Damn. Rick would kill me if I gave you one of these.”
Ed smiled. “Yeah, I guess he would. If he was here.”
Gordy shrugged impatiently. “He will be. Don’t worry. Rick will be back when he’s taken the trash out. And, yes, I am sure there will be no next time. Don’t you have eyes in your head? Don’t you see the way that guy looks at you? Shit, sometimes, watching him looking at you, I almost get jealous, wondering if any guy will ever look at me like that.”
Ed felt a little better, hearing Gordy’s confidence. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you do, Gord. I know there’s a Rick out there for you somewhere.”
“Well, my luck being what it is, I don’t s’pose he’ll come walking into the Porterfield Post Office, but I guess maybe you’re right. Lightning struck big time for you in this town. I don’t know if it’ll strike twice.”
“I got lucky,” Ed said, a part of him still not believing it. When he thought back to last fall, when he wondered if the new mailman was gay and how he couldn’t imagine that he was, but also couldn’t imagine him being attracted to Ed if he was, he sometimes felt the last five months had been nothing but a dream. “I don’t know why I got so lucky. Rick says sometimes you just get lucky. I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to look a little harder, but I know there’s a guy out there for you.”
Gordy blew out a long trail of smoke, watching it float away. “Yeah. I almost drove into Fort Wayne tonight, to Carlton’s. I don’t know why I didn’t. Guess I just didn’t feel like going alone, then coming home alone.”
“You want Rick and me to go with you some Saturday night?”
Gordy snorted. “Yeah, sure. The big tough guy here needs his friends to hold his hand. No, thanks for the offer, but I can do it on my own. Far as I’m concerned, that place is no place for you two. It’s just packed with assholes, like that Jack, who are so miserable and jealous that they’d love nothing more than to come between you, break you up, and make you as miserable as they are. I’ve seen it in Indy and in Chicago. No, you guys stay home where you belong. When I meet a decent guy, I’ll bring him over for dinner, okay?”
“It’s a date,” Ed promised. “And I bet it’ll happen sooner than you think.” He coughed again, then yawned.
“Look at you,” Gordy said, disgusted. “Still sick, about half-asleep, and driving over here because you’re worried about your guy. Hell, if there’s one person in this world I wouldn’t worry about, it’s Rick Benton. Why don’t you take your sorry ass home and go to bed?”
Ed shrugged. “It’s just so damned quiet there, and I . . . oh, don’t bawl me out, Gordy, but I can’t help wondering—”
“Bawl you out? Hell, I’m gonna beat you up,” he roared. “Get off this, Ed. I know this has been a big surprise and all that, but it don’t mean anything. Absolutely nothing. Rick just had a dirty job to do tonight, and he’s doing it. He’ll be back in the morning, and you’ll feel like an asshole, wondering why the hell you were wasting good sleeping time over at my place.”
Ed looked at his friend with great affection. “You know what, Gordy? I think I love you.”
Gordy threw his hands up in the air, almost throwing his cigarette across the room. “Now he tells me,” he exclaimed, eyes heavenward. “Why the hell didn’t this happen six months ago?”
Gordy shook his head, then began to laugh. “Oh, what the hell, I love you too, you asshole. I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to me, having you and Rick for friends lately. It’s made a big difference in . . . well, in everything. But since you love me, and since I’m you’re new best buddy, I’m gonna tell you something for your own good. Go home. Now.”
Ed stood up. He was suddenly incredibly tired, but also at peace. Gordy’s words had penetrated the fear he had carried with him all evening. He even thought he could go home and sleep in that bed alone.
“Okay. I’ll go home. But do you s’pose I could get a big ole football player hug before I go?”
Gordy stubbed out his cigarette, got up, and approached Ed, arms outstretched. They hugged, ti
ghtly, for a long time.
“Thanks, Gordy,” Ed said softly.
“Anytime, buddy,” Gordy said, just as soft. “Anytime.”
Ed stumbled across the parking lot of Gordy’s apartment building on Stratton Avenue. He made it into his truck and started for home, braking for the stop signs at every intersection on Grant Street, almost wishing he’d taken the long way around to his house.
As he approached his own block he rubbed his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. Rick’s car was in his driveway. He hit the gas and spun the truck crazily into the driveway next to Rick’s car, not bothering to put it in the garage. He jumped out, slamming the door. His weak lungs ached as he ran to the back door. He managed to get through both doors and staggered into the kitchen. He almost collapsed with relief. Rick was on the sofa, Jett in his lap. The stereo was on, “One Man Band” playing softly.
“Well, sick boy, what the hell are you doing out running around in the middle of the night?” Rick asked him, that beautiful, wonderful warm and tender smile on his face.
Ed gasped, then coughed. “I—I was at Gordy’s,” he choked out. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Indy?”
Rick shrugged. “I told you I was gonna clean up the pizza, didn’t I?”
Ed couldn’t help it. Those damned tears that had been betraying him ever since he got sick returned. He felt them slide out of his eyes, and he put his head down, hoping Rick wouldn’t see.
But he did, of course. He pushed the cat aside, leapt to his feet, and had his arms around Ed in a heartbeat.
“Baby, baby, don’t cry,” he murmured.
Ed took a quivering, almost choking breath. “That’s a song by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, isn’t it? I don’t have that one.”
Rick laughed, holding him tight. “Oh, baby, what I went through tonight. Being away from you just about damn near killed me, but I’m back. I’m about ready to drop dead from being so tired, but I’m back.”
Suddenly, Rick began to cry as well. “Look at me, blubbering, and I don’t have being sick as an excuse. Oh, I love you so much, baby. I’m so glad I’m here, and you’re here. When I came in the house, and you weren’t here, why . . . oh, I couldn’t imagine where you’d gone, or what you were doing.”
“But—but—you told Claire you were staying with your folks tonight,” Ed managed to get out.
“I know. I told her that so she wouldn’t worry, and so you wouldn’t worry about me driving back. But I never had any intention of doing anything but coming right back here.”
“I went over to Gordy’s,” Ed repeated, wiping away his own tears, then Rick’s. “I just didn’t want to be here alone.”
“I thought so, or at least I did when I calmed down. I almost called, but I was sure you’d come home eventually. Plus, I knew if you were with Gordy, I didn’t have to worry. He’d take care of you for me.”
“I think I need to sit down,” Ed said.
Rick led him over to the sofa, then sat next to him, one arm tightly across his shoulders.
“What happened?”
“Oh, baby,” Rick sighed. He shook his head and sighed again. “Baby, I promise to tell you every last dumb detail tomorrow when I’m not so tired. Bottom line, the minute I saw him, all I wanted to do was get rid of him. I wasn’t even mad at him. All I could think of was to get rid of him, as soon as possible. So I did. And something tells me, from what I said when he got out of the car, that I’ll never hear from him again.”
“Gordy said you’d be back when you finished taking the trash out.”
“He was right. I got rid of the trash, and now I’m back.” Rick looked around the room. “Where’s that box of Puffs you’ve been carrying around all week?”
Ed grabbed it from the table next to the sofa. Rick took one and blew his nose.
“Thanks.” He tossed it toward the wastebasket and missed. “Still ain’t no basketball player, huh, baby?” He laughed.
Ed laughed, too. “I suppose I could tell you I’m glad to see you, but I guess you already figured that out.”
“Yeah, I kinda noticed,” Rick said, kissing him, the first real kiss he’d given him since Ed had been sick. “Man, that drive home, though. Talk about endless. All I could think about was you. Well, that’s not true, you and me, actually. I thought about all that stuff we talked about last weekend at the lake, and how I’ve been here all week, taking care of you. Don’t get mad at me for saying it, but I’m almost glad you got sick. It—it changed something for me. Taking care of you, knowing you needed me, that you wanted me here, even as lousy as you felt. It made me realize that I need to be here with you, all the time. In fact, I was gonna talk to you about it tonight, before I was so rudely interrupted.”
“Did you talk to Claire about it tonight?” Ed asked. It was something he needed to know.
“No,” Rick said, puzzled. “Why would I, or when would I have had the time?”
“So, you really want to be here, with me, all the time. Move in, change your address, the whole thing, right?”
Rick kissed him again. “I swear, there is nothing more I want in this world. Will you have me?”
Ed threw his head back and laughed. “Yes! Yes, I’ll have you. And by the way, when you go home, your clothes are going to be on the front lawn. Claire’s throwing you out.”
Rick roared with laughter. “She is, huh? Well, then one good thing came out of all of this: I can move in here with no guilt. Nope, no guilt, just love. Lots and lots of love, baby.”
Ed sighed happily, safe once again in Rick’s arms. Oh, he still felt like shit from being sick, but in some other way, he’d never felt better in his life.
“I don’t have anything to say,” he admitted, shrugging helplessly.
“How ’bout ‘I love you, Rick,’” Rick teased.
“I love you, Rick,” Ed said obediently.
“And how ’bout ‘I’m really glad you’re home.’”
“I’m really glad you’re home.”
“And ‘I want to be with you for the rest of my life.’”
“I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Forever. Or as long as forever is. ’Cause I do, darlin’, I really do.” Ed pulled Rick to him for another kiss, and this one seemed to seal the deal.
They sat quietly for a moment. Rick looked up and frowned at the stereo.
“Damn, I wanted that song playing while I told you about all of this.”
He went to the stereo and started the turntable. He put the needle down on the record, and “One Man Band” began to play once again.
“You see, baby,” he said, returning to the sofa, grabbing Ed, “I am, and always will be, your one-man band. Not only that, but I am your one-man-only one-man band. There isn’t anyone else in this world I want to play for.”
Ed heard Rick’s words, heard the song playing that he’d loved for years, but had begun to love in a different way recently. He smiled at Rick.
“Don’t forget, though. I’m your one-man band, too, ya know.”
Rick hugged him tightly. “I know, baby, I know. And I look forward to hearing your music for the rest of my life.”
Ed couldn’t think of the date. He’d lost track of the days while he’d been sick. All he knew was that it was sometime in early April 1981. He’d have to look at the calendar in the morning, because he wanted to remember the date. Straight people had their wedding anniversaries, so couldn’t he and Rick have one, too? As far as he was concerned, he was now as married to Rick Benton as two men could possibly be. He sighed.
“How’d we get so lucky?” he murmured against Rick’s neck.
“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know. Sometimes you just get lucky.”
Ed hugged Rick as tight as he could. He didn’t say it, but he knew it was the realization of that very first, that biggest dream he’d had over six months ago, the dream the handyman had about the mailman. It had come true. He knew in his heart more dreams were waiting to be realized for both of them, but he w
as willing to wait on those dreams. His Dream Man was in his arms to stay, and for right now, that’s all he cared about.
Ain’t no two ways about it
I just can’t live without ya
Let’s get together
I can’t wait forever
Here I am,
Take my hand,
I’m your man.
I just wanna be,
I just wanna be,
I just wanna be,
Your one man band, ooooooooooh.
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