Blue Umbrella Sky

by Rick R. Reed

  Singing for him was never a performance. It was never about attention or adulation. It was a collaboration with whatever audience was before him. He broadcast his voice, his message, and if the magic worked, his listeners then took it into their hearts and made it something meaningful—in their own lives.

  Oh, how he missed that. It had been a long time since he’d actually sung in public. He was hard-pressed to recall the last time.

  He thought if things didn’t work out with Milt, he just might take himself away from Palm Springs. He could be packed up and ready to move within a day. His trailer was only a rental. There was an excitement in thinking he could simply hit the road and head over to LA, or back to Chicago, or even to New York, places where there was lots of competition, for sure, but lots of opportunity as well. Palm Springs had open mics and various cabaret venues, for sure, but Billy knew if he really wanted to get somewhere with his voice, he needed to be in a bigger city, where there was more of a chance for things like recording contracts, concert deals, and the kind of exposure he needed to get in the public’s fickle eye.

  He didn’t look at his lack of an owned home or lots of possessions as a disadvantage, but as freedom, the liberty to make of his life what he wanted, when he wanted.

  And this bright morning, when the two-week grace period he’d imposed on his and Milt’s relationship—whatever it was or would be—was over, he realized that pursuing his dreams didn’t have to preclude a relationship with Milt. Maybe Milt would simply come with him. Or maybe, if things were good enough with Milt, perhaps Billy would see that there was something waiting for him here, something that had been staring him in the face all along but that he’d never seen.

  Perhaps there was a way he could have it all.

  Why not? He was only dreaming.

  He went through a little mental checklist of all they’d need for their hike today: his CamelBak reservoir, hiking boots, compass, sunscreen, shades, baseball cap, Larabars (in apple pie flavor), and just in case, his trusty snakebite kit. Although he’d only seen one once on a trail, rattlesnakes were always present. It was their turf, not his, and he had to remember that. As long as he did, he believed the two species would get along.

  Billy smiled when he had the idea of making up a little hiking package for Milt. He knew Milt, of course, had his own hiking gear, but he threw together a couple of Larabars, an old extra compass he had, a guide to Palm Springs area trails, and a brand-new tube of sunscreen and put them all in a grocery store bag from Ralphs. It was just a gesture, a way of saying he was glad they’d be together today.

  He headed out into the morning, hoping to see Milt emerge from his trailer, preceded by Ruby. It was a common enough sight, but it always gave his heart a little lift. Even though he imagined the pair in his mind’s eye, he failed to conjure them up.

  The morning was bright and still. In the air was a sweet smell that Billy couldn’t quite identify but was glad of anyway. A hummingbird, gray and iridescent green, swooped down right before his eyes, its beating wings a blur, before soaring upward again.

  He came up the little stone path that led to Milt’s back door and paused to look in his window, not to be nosy, but to make sure Milt was actually up and about. It was, after all, only a little after 7:00 a.m. Not everyone in the world shared Billy’s fondness for early mornings.

  It took his eyes a moment to adjust—as the window itself was almost a mirror, facing the east and the just-risen sun—but when they did, Billy felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He seriously worried for a moment that the eggs, avocado, and salsa he’d had for breakfast might come up. He put a hand to his gut in an attempt to still its churning.

  Milt wasn’t by himself.

  And by that Billy didn’t mean the usual—Ruby scampering about his feet, hoping a crumb or two might fall from whatever Milt was eating.

  No, Milt, at a little after seven in the morning, was in his kitchen with a man. A very handsome man. Broad-shouldered, powerful, with close-cropped hair and the kind of build one would associate with a linebacker.

  Billy’s heart sank. His jealousy slammed into place as if it had never gone missing, loosing a storm of angry bees in his head.

  They were embracing. Milt was clad only in a pair of blue, gray, and red pajama bottoms. The man wore a white T-shirt that clung to him and a pair of boxer shorts.

  Can it be? Maybe it is. This sure as hell looks like a morning-after moment. Billy turned away, feeling a rush of emotions he couldn’t or didn’t want to identify on this pretty morning so at odds with the sudden turmoil rushing through his entire being. I don’t want to see them kiss. I’d really lose it then.

  He had to plop down suddenly on the pavers, his breathing coming fast, his heart racing. Quickly his mind assembled a story. He forgot all about the two weeks. The “date,” in both respects, slipped from his mind. He moved on, as I knew he would. I just hoped it would be with me. But who can blame him for bringing that hunk home? Maybe it’s just a sex thing…. And that thought stoked the nausea back up into high gear, even though the two of them had never done more than hold each other.

  Still, to see Milt in another man’s arms was sickening, and Billy felt a nearly overwhelming sense of loss. His rational mind tried to tell him it was nothing, a one-nighter and that Milt would be kicking the guy out soon and getting himself ready for their hike.

  Milt certainly has no reason to think he’s going steady with me. For God’s sake, man, get a grip!

  Billy wanted to smile at his own folly but couldn’t. He slowly got to his feet and brushed off the back of his jeans. He took a quick look over his shoulder. Milt was now at the stove, stirring something in a pan; he was laughing at something the other man said. They looked like quite the happy couple. Milt had yet to cook for him!

  How fucking homey.

  Billy set down his gifts for Milt on a little side table and started back home.

  Life was certainly full of surprises, not all of them pleasant.

  Billy was glad there was no alcohol in his trailer. Because a Bloody Mary would taste great right about now.

  Chapter 15

  SUNDAY NIGHT and Milt had just taken Ruby out for her final walk. They’d strolled around the park, stopping at the chain-link fencing for the pool to watch a couple of his younger neighbors, a newly married couple, frolic in the water, the moon stretched oval on its almost navy blue surface. They didn’t even notice Milt and Ruby; they were too busy with their horseplay and their kissing. Milt was sure that, even though they were in the relatively cool waters of the pool, fires were being stoked.

  He recalled being that young, being that in love—where the only thing that existed was the other, the beating heart of the one you cared so much for that the world around seemed to blur. He wished this couple well and that their period of bliss would endure for a long, long time.

  Ruby got down into a crouch, watching the swimmers, every so often emitting a little whine. She loved the water, and even though it was against the rules, Milt would, on quiet nights when no one else was around, let her jump in and paddle around. Sometimes he’d throw a ball for her and she’d leap from the side of the pool to catch it and then splash down into the dark water. It always made him laugh and brought joy to his heart to see this creature, who’d endured such abuse, so happy.

  Tonight, the couple ruined any chance of Ruby taking a nighttime dip. But it was okay. Ruby might not agree, but seeing the couple made Milt a little anticipatory. Tomorrow he’d get together with Billy for the first time after a couple of weeks apart, and he felt like he was actually now ready for him. He was keeping his options open, because he knew his heart was a fickle and fragile thing, and it could take him by surprise—either way. It could, for example, release him from being a perpetual widower and allow him to open the door to caring for a new man. It might even push him a little toward Billy, saying, in effect, “Go ahead, hon, you’ve waited long enough. You deserve this.” Or, the other side of the coin, it mi
ght let him know, once again, that his heart was bound forever to Corky, just as he’d promised him so many times over the years and not just that one time he remembered so well near the end of his life.

  Milt was smart enough to know things could go either way. And he was old enough to realize that often our feelings took off in surprising directions, not behaving in the manner we expected them to.

  Still, he was excited for the morning to come and excited to be spending a whole day again with Billy. After the hike he’d already planned what they’d do: a dip in the pool (sorry, Ruby, you’ll have to stay home) and then taking Billy to one of his finds, a little Vietnamese place he’d discovered in a strip mall on the north end of Palm Canyon, a place called the Rooster and the Pig, that had the freshest and most amazing Vietnamese food Milt had ever eaten, not that he’d had much. Summitville’s only nod to Asian cuisine had been a Panda Express on the highway near Walmart—hardly even comparable. Milt wanted to share something he’d found on his own in Palm Springs. He hoped Billy wasn’t aware yet of the charming little restaurant.

  After much tugging and promises to bring her back the following night, late, Milt managed to get Ruby to leave the pool and give up on her dreams of being a sea lion.

  At the trailer he refilled her bowl with the filtered water he kept in the fridge and leaned back against the counter to watch with satisfaction as she lapped it up. It was getting on toward nine, and Milt was looking forward to crawling into bed early and turning the TV on. He was currently bingeing on Netflix’s reboot of Queer Eye and was enjoying the makeovers and even the expert manipulation of his emotions. There hadn’t been an episode yet that had failed to elicit a tear or two from him.

  “C’mon, girl, you ready to call it a night?” It was a bit earlier than they’d usually retire, but Milt wanted to be well-rested for the hike in the morning.

  He’d just finished brushing his teeth when he heard the purr of a car engine through his screened bedroom window. There was the sound of a car door slamming and then footsteps. He glanced over at Ruby, who, like a dutiful wife, had already taken her place on the bed, her head on the pillow next to Milt’s. He smiled, shaking his head.

  He crossed the room to peer out into the gloom, thinking that it certainly sounded like someone had pulled up in front of his home. But neighbors were very close by in the trailer park, so undoubtedly the car and the footsteps were headed toward someone else. He was expecting no one.

  Ruby, taking her cue from him, raised up her head and directed her attention to the open bedroom window. A breeze rustled the curtain.

  “Milt?” a figure in the darkness outside asked.

  Ruby gave a soft little bark. She hopped down from the bed and clicked to the back door.

  Milt peered more closely, squinting. Someone was out there, but because of the way the light hit him, he was little more than a silhouette. A big silhouette, one that looked vaguely familiar.

  Could it be?

  Milt threw on a T-shirt and some flip-flops and hurried to the back door, which Ruby was pawing. He opened it and Ruby dashed out. He didn’t worry about her running away any longer. She knew how good she had it here, and after the flood, Milt had taken considerable care in training her (with lots of cut-up hot dogs) into coming when she was called.

  “Ruby! Sit.”

  Good girl that she was, she dropped down only a foot or so from the visitor. Milt grinned as he realized who it was. Grinned bigger with delight at this nighttime surprise from completely out of the blue.

  “My God. You ever hear of phoning first?” Milt picked up the pace and launched himself into the big and bearish arms of his very best friend from Summitville, Ohio, Dane Bernard. The two of them had been chief confidantes and consolers to the other throughout some of their most joyous and most trying life experiences. They’d taught, side by side, for years at Summitville High School.

  “And spoil the surprise?” Dane’s laugh, like Dane himself, was big and warm. “I needed a break, and I guessed my buddy out here could use a nice surprise. Hope I’m not wrong.” He laughed again, booming.

  Milt lost himself in Dane’s hug. It was very much like being surrounded by a favorite quilt—absolute comfort and security.

  After holding each other for a few moments, Milt found the fortitude to break away.

  “And who’s this?” Dane asked. Ruby was going nuts, whining and circling them, her tail a blur that rivaled hummingbird wings.

  “That’s Ruby. And I’m not even going to try to, um, curb her enthusiasm.” As if she’d heard him, Ruby jumped up on Dane’s sizable chest, bouncing off it. Dane laughed and finally squatted down beside her to show her some love.

  “She thinks she’s who you came to see,” Milt said. Ruby had always had an unerring sense when it came to people—who to cozy up to and who to lean away from. Milt trusted her instincts as much, if not more, than his own.

  “Who says she isn’t?” Dane finished petting and scratching Ruby, stood, and picked up his leather duffel bag. “Seriously. I hope it’s okay, me showing up like this. The weather’s so shitty back home, in the teens, with snow and sleet that feels like needles. Seth’s busy with the school play, and I….” His voice trailed off for a moment, and it was obvious he was caught up in emotion. “And I just missed you so damn much, I thought I needed to get out here and see you. There was a cheap last-minute flight deal. I snatched it up without even questioning.”

  Milt cocked his head, feeling a little choked up himself. “That’s so sweet. I’ve missed you too, brother.”

  “And listen, I know this is a surprise, so please feel free to go on about your business while I’m here. No special concessions. Soaking up some sun will be consolation enough for when you’re not around. I passed the pool on the way in.” Dane took a deep breath of what Milt had come to view as the “chilly” nighttime air and exhaled with a big, pleasure-filled “Ah.”

  “The good news is my schedule is wide open.” Milt did feel a twinge of disappointment that he’d have to include Dane on the hike tomorrow. But Dane was such a lovable man, he was certain Billy would be utterly charmed by him, and the three of them would have a great time. He had plenty of time, he supposed, to be alone with Billy.

  “And I don’t mind couch-surfing.”

  “Good thing, because my closet of a guest room is my office.” Milt put a guiding hand on Dane’s shoulder. “Come on inside. Let’s get you a drink and a comfortable place to land.”

  “I just need to hit the john and set down my bag. Hey! Can we sit out here for a bit?”

  “Grab a couple of beers out of the fridge while you’re in there.” Milt realized he was already getting acclimated to desert heat, because it didn’t even cross his mind to sit outside tonight. In the low sixties? Too damn cold! But he’d endure for his Midwestern buddy.

  “Will do. Back in a flash.”

  Milt plopped down in one of the aluminum chairs to wait. Ruby curled up at his feet. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Life really was often full of the most unexpected surprises. His heart was filled with gladness. This was a gift he’d never expected, but now, Dane being here just felt so right.

  He glanced over at Billy’s trailer and thought I’ve got so much to tell Dane. Dane had loved Corky too, though, and Milt wondered how he’d take the news of his interest in Billy. Would he see it as a betrayal? Oh, come on! I’m quite sure you’re the only one who sees it that way!

  Dane returned in short order with the beers. He’d even snooped in Milt’s cupboards and found a box of Cheez-Its. It was a party!

  They sat for a long time, through a couple more beers and lots of catching up. Dane told him all the Summitville news, particularly the gossip that revolved around the high school, and Milt brought Dane up to date on his life here in Palm Springs. He’d gestured toward Billy’s trailer with his beer bottle and said, “And that’s where Billy lives.”

  “Oh? And who’s Billy?” Dane raised his eyebrows, a grin lifting the corne
r of his mouth.

  And Milt described him in glowing terms—not only his handsome blond looks but his warm heart and caring personality.

  “So, you like this guy?” Dane leaned forward a little.

  And Milt found himself enduring a stab of guilt. He hated that he was, but hell, there was no denying what he felt. He wished, for the briefest of moments, that he hadn’t mentioned Billy at all. It made him a little sad to see the look of anticipation and happiness on Dane’s face at the mention of a new man. He could practically read what Dane was thinking—how it was good Milt was finally moving on, how great it would be for him to find someone to replace Corky, to put some salve on the wounds of his loss and grief. Why did that make him feel sad?

  “He’s nice,” Milt said, hiding elaborating behind a couple more swigs of beer and a handful of Cheez-Its. He stretched after swallowing, arms over his head, big yawn. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pooped.” He reached down to rub the top of Ruby’s head. “This one here, she has me up at the crack of dawn.”

  “Sure, sure.” Dane stood and stretched too. Milt was still amazed, after all these years, how big he was—a gentle giant. “Plans for tomorrow?” Dane gathered up their empties and the empty cracker box as well, doing a delicate and competent balancing act.

  Milt grinned. “Um, actually, yes, but you can come too. Billy and I are going on a hike. I think we’re going to check out one of the trails at Joshua Tree.”

  They headed inside. “Let me think about it. There’s something very appealing about just lounging by the pool all day. I’ve got the new Stephen King on my Kindle, and I’m picturing myself with something fruity in a big tumbler, just soaking up the rays. I want Seth to be jealous when I come back with a tan.”