GirlNextDoor

by Lyra Marlowe

  “I’m fine.”

  “And John?”

  “I’m right here,” Krulak said. “We’re both fine.”

  “God, it’s all over the news.”

  “We figured,” Nolan said. “One of the other paramedics is pretty badly hurt. We’re going to stay at the hospital until he comes out of surgery.”

  “We didn’t want you to worry,” John added.

  “Yeah,” Lucy answered, “way too late for that. What can I do to help?”

  “Pray,” Nolan said.

  “And don’t worry about us,” John added. “We’ll be home when we can.”

  Lucy sighed audibly. “All right. Take care.”

  Nolan put his phone away. “Gonna be a long night.”

  “Yeah. Let’s go see if there’s any news.”

  There wasn’t. Not yet.

  *

  Lucy Bellino hung up the phone and paced the living room slowly. She glanced at the big television, where the accident was still being covered in glorious living color. Then she grabbed the remote and turned it off.

  They were safe. Nolan was safe, and John was safe.

  My boys, she thought wryly. My boys are safe.

  Well, physically safe, anyhow. She could tell by their voices that they were worried sick about their comrade. From what she’d seen on the news, he was lucky to be alive at all.

  She wished she could do something useful.

  If you lived with Nolan, she thought, this is what it would be like. He gets home late every shift. And sometimes he’d be really late and you’d have to worry about him.

  Of course, the fact that she was far away didn’t make his job any less dangerous. At least if she was here she could make sure he was—well, what? Not keeping outdated seafood dinners in his freezer?

  She flopped on the couch. It was astoundingly comfortable. When they’d tried it in the showroom, they’d both immediately decided that Nolan needed two. One for each of them to nap on.

  Except you’re not here most of the time.

  Lucy put her feet up and stretched out. A nap might be good. She didn’t want to go to bed until they got home, but a nap wouldn’t hurt. It was likely to be a long time.

  If I lived here with Nolan, she mused. The idea of living with a man had always struck her as completely unnecessary and inconvenient—where would they go when you kicked them out of bed?—but Nolan was different. She loved him. She liked being with him. She didn’t mind his personal habits. And she never wanted to kick him out of bed.

  It could be possible.

  But she knew she’d been right about her first response too. If she lived here with Nolan, he’d never date a man again. He’d settle for her, settle for comfort over love and intimacy.

  For someone like her, or like John Krulak, that would be fine. For someone like Nolan, who was actually capable of true love, it would be a damn shame.

  A waste of his life.

  He was still too broken up over Kevin to see that clearly. It had been six months, and he was much better than he had been, but Lucy could still sense the deep pockets of grief in him.

  Fucking asshole bastard son of a whore. She hoped that Kevin, wherever he was, had contracted an incurable, slow-acting, highly contagious, noxiously smelly, crotch-rotting disease.

  At least John had been here to help Nolan pick up the pieces.

  She liked John. Liked having sex with him, naturally. He was totally GGG—good, giving and game. But she liked him as a person too. A lot more than anyone she’d met in quite a while. He was smart and funny. From what Nolan had told her, Krulak was damn good at his job. She’d liked the story about him talking down the furious dad in the emergency room before he could lambaste his son. With a cell phone picture of a kid with pissy pants, of all things. He cared about people. The same way Nolan did.

  They were good together.

  And John didn’t have that I’m really, really into you vibe that she so often got from men after a few sexual encounters, the one that made her want to run away. He was as content to hit and run as she was.

  He gets all the friendship, all the relationship, that he needs from Nolan too.

  Lucy sat up, frowning. There was something there, something she was missing. Her and Nolan and John. John and Nolan and her. Her and John and Nolan.

  Nolan had been sure John wouldn’t be into a threesome. But maybe he was wrong about that. Or maybe it wasn’t a sexual threesome she was thinking about. Maybe it was something more. Something deeper.

  Me and John and Nolan.

  John and Nolan…

  Between the two of them, they were everything she needed. And each of them needed the other two, for sex, for love. If they couldn’t have both in the same person, then why not in two people?

  Lucy sighed. You’re exhausted, you’re frustrated because you expected to get laid tonight, you’re worried about your boys. You’re thinking in circles.

  You’re going home in two days, and that’s the end of it. So stop trying to figure out how to put your boys with each other. And how you’d fit into it. You won’t, because you’re not staying.

  Nolan wanted John. John was straight, but sexually adventurous. And maybe, maybe, he wanted Nolan too. She didn’t know if he’d ever tried the other team, if he’d even considered it. He certainly hadn’t given her any indication. But something tugged at her intuition.

  Or it’s just wishful thinking, because you want him to be with Nolan, because he’d make Nolan happy…

  Circles again, Lucy thought.

  Anyhow, she should just stay out of it. She was leaving. It was up to them whether they ever pursued anything more than a friendship.

  Nothing at all to do with her.

  Lucy shook her head firmly and turned on the TV again.

  *

  “The baby,” John said quietly, an hour later.

  “Huh?”

  “What happened to the baby?”

  Nolan sighed. He’d half-hoped John had forgotten about it. He wasn’t sure he should be telling Lucy’s story to his friend. But then, John was his friend. It wasn’t as if he was going to go gossip about her to his other friends. It’s not like the story could hurt Lucy any more.

  It was more than that, Nolan admitted. He wanted John to know Lucy’s story because her story was, in a very real way, Nolan’s story. They had been closer than siblings when they were young, and since then, though they’d been apart, they were still best friends. Lucy and John, he thought. If I could have both of them in my life, everything would be perfect.

  It could never happen.

  “She miscarried,” he finally said. “That same day, right after dinner, she started spotting. If we hadn’t stolen the pregnancy test, we would have just thought her period was late.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. She didn’t know whether to cry or be relieved or what. Some of both.” Nolan shrugged. “I told her not to say anything to anybody. But she thought Jeff deserved to know.”

  “The jock?”

  “Yeah. When he got home Sunday she told him everything. About the baby, the miscarriage…about the plan to say the baby was mine.”

  “What’d he do?”

  “He dumped her. Then he caught me before school Monday and beat the shit out of me.”

  “What the hell for?”

  “Hitting on his girl.” Nolan shrugged, his mouth twisted into a smirk. “And then he told everybody in school that Lucy’d been two-timing him with me.”

  Two points of red appeared on John’s cheeks, as they always did when he got angry. “Fucking asshole.”

  “Yeah. Well, it was a long time ago. He’s in jail now.”

  “For what?”

  “Apparently he never stopped dating high school freshmen.”

  John shook his head. “I like that part, anyhow. But what happened to Lucy?”

  “She had a reputation after that. Guys asked her out, a lot of guys, and they all expected her to put out. She hated it, for a while. And
then…I don’t know. It was like she just decided to be who everybody thought she was, you know? Like if everybody was going to think she was a tramp, she was going to be a good one.”

  John sighed. “And she never let anybody get close again? In all this time?”

  Nolan shrugged. “A lot of flings, a few things that lasted a little longer, but no. Nothing that I’d call serious.”

  “Except you.”

  “Like I said, Lucy and I aren’t about sex.”

  “But you slept with her.”

  Nolan groaned. “I keep hoping you’ll forget about that.”

  “It’s the most fascinating part of the story.”

  The surgery suite door opened and they all looked eagerly that way, but it was just an orderly with papers.

  “Freshman year of college,” Nolan finally said, “I decided I was probably gay.”

  “Late bloomer much?”

  “Deep in the closet in my own mind. I think I always knew, but I couldn’t admit it. Until I moved out of my mother’s house and into a dorm.”

  John nodded. “Surrounded by so many young cocks.”

  “Shut up.” Nolan shrugged. “But yes. Even then, though, I wasn’t sure. So I called Lucy. And she, uh…” He hesitated. It was such a big part of his sexuality, his personal history. That weekend with Lucy. Possibly the most loving thing anyone had ever done for him. “She said she loved me regardless, but if I wanted to be sure she’d help me.”

  “Help you how?”

  “We got a hotel room. For the weekend.”

  John watched him intently. “And?”

  “And we made love. Three times.”

  “Just like that.”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And it was terrific. I mean—she’s Lucy. She knew what she was doing, she was enthusiastic. She was terrific. The sex was great. And I realized it wasn’t what I wanted. I mean, if I didn’t want to have sex with Lucy, I really didn’t want to have sex with any other woman.”

  John considered. “Yeah. I can see that.”

  Nolan stood, wandered to the coffee pot, poured a cup for each of them, sat back down. They both sipped. The coffee was awful. “So what’s your story?”

  “What?”

  “Why are you so elusive?”

  “Oh. Yeah, that’s…kind of a long story.”

  Nolan shrugged. “We seem to have time.”

  “There’s nothing to tell, really.”

  “Ooohhh,” Nolan said slowly. “I see.”

  “I mean, there wasn’t one incident or one person, anything like that. I just don’t do relationships, that’s all.”

  “Yeah, I get it. You got me to spill my guts about Lucy’s story, and about mine, but you don’t feel like you can share yours.” Nolan tried to keep his tone light, but he was genuinely hurt.

  John knew it. “It’s just…it’s complicated.”

  There was real pain in his tone too, and Nolan relented. “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” John took a deep breath. “My dad was, well, what we used to call a pussy hound. He never saw a skirt he didn’t chase.”

  Like you, Nolan thought. He kept his mouth shut and just nodded.

  “Like me, I guess,” Kruak admitted. “I know. And thank you for not saying it.”

  Nolan smiled a little, nodded. “No problem.”

  “The difference is, he was married. And he wasn’t very subtle about it. Like you said, small town, they all knew who he was knocking boots with and how often. My mom knew, and she knew everybody else knew. They’d have these huge fights about it, about how he was embarrassing her, humiliating her, and how he must not even care. And he’d cry and swear he was sorry and he’d never do it again. He said he loved her, that he never meant to hurt her.”

  “And she believed him.”

  “For a while.” John went silent for a moment. “And then she’d had enough. She left him.” He paused again. The next words clearly hurt the most to say. “She left us.”

  “She didn’t take you with her?”

  “No. She left me when she left my dad. I was ten. He wasn’t abusive or anything, but he wasn’t much of a father either. Couldn’t cook, didn’t clean. Wasn’t interested in my school work. Like that. We got by, but it wasn’t pretty.” He shook his head. “I hated her for leaving me.”

  “Of course you did,” Nolan answered. His heart ached for his friend. He wondered if John had ever told anyone this story. And he wished he could put his arms around him.

  “And of course,” John continued, “there were the women. Once she was gone, he just brought them home. Went in the bedroom and shut the door. Sometimes they’d cook for us afterward. One time some lady’s husband came to the door with a shotgun. Just—not a good place for a kid.” He shrugged. “I knew it was wrong, the way he lived, but my mom was more wrong, for leaving me there. You know what I mean?”

  “Of course I do.” Nolan finally gave in partly to his instinct and put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “So you decided to be the same way, to keep all your relationships casual. Just recreational.”

  “I don’t think I actually decided,” John retorted. “It just sorta got to be that way.”

  “And you didn’t want to hurt anyone like your dad hurt your mom, so you never committed to anyone.”

  “Yeah.” John thought a minute. “Yeah.” He shook his head again. “You know what’s weird? Everybody would think that because you’re gay, you have more problems with relationships. But really you’ve been happier than either Lucy or me.”

  Thinking of Kevin and their years together didn’t hurt the way Nolan expected it to. Instead, he felt just an aching nostalgia. “We were good together,” he agreed. “For a long time.” Then he shook his head. “At least, I thought we were.”

  Krulak blew out a deep breath. “Damn. We are some damaged people, aren’t we?”

  “Everybody’s damaged,” Nolan agreed. “But at least we have each other.”

  “There is that. There is that.”

  *

  At midnight, they went outside and called Lucy again.

  “Go to bed,” Nolan told her. “We could be here all night.”

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  John looked up at his partner. Suddenly he was ravenous—and then sick with worry. “No. Not really.”

  “Bullshit. How many people are there?”

  “Ten,” Nolan answered. “Sometimes twenty.”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “You don’t have to…”

  “Shut up.”

  She hung up on them.

  John sighed. “Yeah. I could eat.”

  “Yeah,” Nolan agreed.

  *

  It was actually forty-five minutes before Lucy showed up. A delivery man trailed behind her, pushing a cart. The smell of fried chicken flooded the waiting room, and nearly everyone looked suddenly, reluctantly hopeful. Nolan showed them the little side conference room and they quietly set out the trays. Chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, beans, a dozen other sides. Paper plates and plastic silverware. Desserts. Cans of soda. And a twenty-cup thermal jug filled with excellent coffee.

  “Eat,” Lucy ordered quietly. She went back to the waiting room. “All of you, come get something to eat.”

  She went over to Griffin’s wife. Julia was holding her sleeping infant tightly. She looked exhausted. “Do you want me to hold your daughter so you can get something to eat?”

  The woman looked at her blankly.

  Emma stood. “That’s a good idea. Come on, Julia. Let her hold Sarah for a minute.”

  “Uh…”

  “I don’t know about you, but I got to pee something fierce too.”

  Julia nodded. “I…yes.” She stood and slipped the infant into Lucy’s arms. The baby stirred, then settled again. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  “Take your time,” Lucy said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I
don’t… I don’t know you, do I?”

  Nolan stepped in. “This is Lucy. She’s my best friend from way back when. The original girl next door.”

  Julia looked at him, then at her again. “Oh. Then it’s okay, then.”

  “It’s fine,” Emma assured her. She took her arm and led her off to the ladies room.

  *

  They didn’t get Julia to eat much, but she took a few bites, seemed to revive a little. Everyone in the room seemed to feel better with a little food in them. Lucy eventually gave the baby to Emma. She tidied up, consolidated the leftovers and covered them, but left them for anyone who got hungry later. Then she kissed Nolan and John each on the cheek and left.

  “That was nice,” John said.

  “Yeah.”

  John thought about the picnic she’d brought for the whole fire station. “She likes to feed people, doesn’t she?”

  “She does,” Nolan agreed. “She’ll probably write it off on some expense report.” He ran his hand through his hair wearily. “But it was a good thing.”

  They both looked at the clock. It was nearly three in the morning. Without comment, they returned to their seats by the window.

  John said, “You should ask her to come live with you.”

  Nolan glanced at him. “Lucy? I already did.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “That if she lived with me I’d settle for that and never look for a real lover again.”

  “Is she right?”

  “Probably.”

  “Hell.”

  “Yeah.”

  They were silent for a long while. John got up and got them more coffee. Even the good coffee had started to taste like coal water. He had a headache. And a backache. Hell, his whole body ached.

  Finally, at quarter to four, the surgeon came out and announced the unlikely news that Tim Griffin had survived and—barring complications—was expected to live.

  There were handshakes and back-slaps. Julia was in tears, and even stoic Emma wasn’t strictly dry-eyed. They let the wife go back to see him, just for a few minutes. The rest of the gathering started to break up.

  “I don’t want to go home,” John said in the lobby. “It’s too lonely there. Can I come sleep on your couch?”

  “On my new couch?” Nolan returned. “My one-day-old couch?”

  “Yeah.”