Life on Pause

by Erin McLellan

  “You wouldn’t leave Bison Hills School District, or, more importantly, your students in a lurch in the middle of the school year. I don’t believe that for one second.”

  “I could.”

  “Your job isn’t really what I’m talking about, though,” she said gently. “Do you love him?”

  His breath burned in his throat, and his stomach dropped. God, Jackie was pissing him off. He wished he could go back to watching this ridiculous show with Margo. “I don’t know,” he lied.

  “Does he love you?”

  Rusty didn’t answer. He could feel the love between him and Niles like an ever-present beat in all their interactions. It was in the rhythm of their words and touches and heartache, but it was much easier to deny and change the subject. It was easier to pretend Niles didn’t feel or hurt as deeply as Rusty did. Made it easier to walk away.

  His distress must have been palpable because Jackie patted his knee again, and said, “Margo and I will be okay even if you’re not living in our backyard. And we’ll always be a family, no matter what.”

  A family. Exactly. He wasn’t turning his back on his family. He rubbed his hands through his hair and then stood up.

  “Miss Margo, we’ll be leaving soon, so you need to start picking up your crayons and markers,” Jackie said as Rusty escaped to the kitchen.

  Jackie followed him. Of course. The annoying little sister stereotype didn’t spring from nowhere. He poured himself a large glass of water.

  “Can I give some unwanted advice?” she said.

  Isn’t that what she’s been doing this whole time?

  “No.”

  “Too bad, brother.”

  “I don’t know why we’re talking about this!” Rusty said, his nerves finally fraying enough for real anger to burst forth. “You wanted me to move with you guys. You said this was a decision we could make together. Well, I want to be close to you both. I want to see Margo grow up. Why are you suddenly acting like you don’t want me to come too?”

  “Because you look miserable,” she hissed. “For fuck’s sake, you should have seen your face when you brought up Niles’s piano. You seemed so hopeful, like this small piece of him, this piece you bought, by the way, might be able to sustain you. Might be able to make you happy. It won’t. You need to figure out what you want. If you want a new start, away from Todd drama and Niles memories, then fine. Move to Sapulpa in May, and close yourself off from everyone and everything until that moment. But at least own up to why you’re doing it. If you love Niles, then decide if you can risk your heart to be with him. And if being with him means staying here or doing long distance. That’s my advice.”

  Jackie turned and strode back into the living room to collect Margo. Rusty longed for the old days when they’d been children and he’d had no qualms about tackling his sister to the floor when she ticked him off.

  Margo skipped into the kitchen and bounded into Rusty’s arms. He gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of the head. “Love you, sugar pea.”

  “Love you too, Uncle Russell.”

  He loved how Margo used his full name. She’d gotten in the habit recently, once she’d learned Rusty was a nickname. She always said it so solemnly.

  Yeah, he wasn’t ready to lose this.

  When he stood back up, Jackie grinned at him. “Think about what I said.”

  He turned his back on her. She laughed and ushered Margo out the door.

  When he arrived at Niles’s house, Rusty was still totally threadbare from his conversation with his sister. It didn’t help that the last time Rusty had been there, they’d broken up, or that Victor gave him a shark’s smile after Niles ushered him into the living room.

  There had been some changes to the living room since he’d been inside. The walls had been painted, the sofa was new, and the coffee table was a different color. Niles had obviously been busy. A sharp pain lanced through Rusty’s heart.

  “All the changes look nice,” he said as he handed over the check for the piano.

  “Thanks.” Niles shoved the check into his pocket, plopped down on his new sofa, and promptly started popping his knuckles. Victor glared at Rusty from across the room.

  Rusty ignored him and sat next to Niles, who had a stubborn jut to his chin that only made him seem fragile.

  “Are you okay?” he asked Niles quietly. He longed to brush Niles’s curly mess of hair from his eyes or hold his hand or rub his back.

  Niles glanced up at him and frowned. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Well,” Rusty started, suddenly uncomfortable, “I know it’s probably not been easy to make changes to the house. So are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. I’ve had Victor here to help.”

  Rusty tensed as if he’d been slapped. He had no right to be jealous of Victor, for God’s sake, but, Jesus, he was jealous.

  “And he’s done a lot on his own,” Victor piped in from across the room, steel in his lilting voice.

  Rusty took the comment for what it was. A reminder.

  A reminder that he hadn’t been here when Niles might have needed him. A reminder that Niles was capable of moving on and living his life without Rusty in it.

  “Do you want to see the piano again?” Niles asked. “You bought it without really inspecting it, and you’ve only played it that one time. It needs to be tuned something fierce.”

  “Sure. If you don’t mind.”

  Rusty moved over to the piano, which was clear of all mail and junk. Niles trailed behind him, and Victor stayed on the other side of the room, observing Rusty with clear dislike in his eyes. Rusty lifted the fallboard and tapped his fingers lightly over the keys in an easy scale. Some of them stuck, either from grime or disuse, but he didn’t care. It was a beautiful piano. It had good bones, and a thorough cleaning and tuning would spruce it right up. He teased out the melody of an Elton John song he’d always liked to play, and while the notes were flat and discordant, having the keys under his fingers filled him with happiness.

  “‘Your Song,’” Niles said, breaking the spell.

  “What?” Victor said. “You guys had a song? What are you—middle schoolers?”

  “No. That’s the name of it,” Niles said. “The name of the song. It was played for Prince William and Kate Middleton’s first dance at their wedding reception.”

  Rusty laughed, his breath catching at Niles’s unbearable nerdiness. “It’s an Elton John song.”

  “It is? Some girl sang it at their wedding,” Niles said, surprised.

  Rusty turned toward him and their eyes caught. Niles’s smile immediately slipped from his face and the light in his eyes shuttered.

  “Niles,” Rusty breathed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Geez, you can stop asking me that,” Niles sniped and then he strode into the kitchen.

  The acid in Niles’s voice hit Rusty in the gut. He couldn’t remember Niles ever acting so cold toward him. After a moment, the ice machine from the refrigerator started to run as Niles filled a cup with ice.

  Victor leaned close to Rusty and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked Rusty, his voice barely intelligible over the noisy rush of the ice dispenser.

  “His well-being isn’t my business anymore. That’s what he’s trying to say, isn’t it?” Rusty whispered.

  “I think so.”

  Niles came back into the living room with a glass of water, and his expression was still on lockdown.

  And Rusty didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tear down the wall that Niles had so obviously erected around himself, but he had no idea how to begin or where to start. Or if he had any right to care. He’d thought they were friends again, but maybe he’d misjudged.

  A knock at the front door startled them all, and the next twenty minutes flew by in a flurry. The piano movers—four burly guys who looked like they could each individually lift the piano, no problem—loaded it onto a dolly, installed a temporary ramp from the top of Niles’s porch to
the ground, and pulled a ramp down from the back of their small moving truck. Once they had loaded the piano in the truck, they strapped it to the wall so it wouldn’t tip.

  Niles climbed into the back of the truck as the movers uninstalled the ramp from the porch. He stood in front of the piano and stared at it.

  Rusty joined him and gently touched his arm, but Niles shrugged him off.

  “I liked listening to my mom play. I’ve missed that,” he said.

  “You don’t have to sell it, sweetheart. I understand if you want to keep it.”

  Niles shook his head resolutely. “I don’t want to keep it. You’ll enjoy it more.”

  Rusty nodded, unexpectedly choked up. “You can come and hear me play it sometime, if you want. Or just come over and stare at it. I don’t mind.”

  Rusty’s blood went cold at the cutting, calculating glare Niles turned on him then.

  “We’re only public friends. Remember, Rusty? You don’t want to be alone with me. Don’t trust yourself not to fall for my manly wiles or something … You don’t care enough.”

  Niles strode down the ramp, and nausea swept over Rusty. He followed Niles to the porch.

  “Hey,” he said. “That’s not true or fair. I care about you.”

  “Okay. Sure. I’m sorry,” Niles said, his voice strangely flat. Rusty was falling behind here. It was like their breakup all over again. Niles’s sudden capitulation blared like a warning bell in his head. Niles cleared his throat. “I want you to have the piano, but then that’s it. This thing between us is over.” He gestured from his body to Rusty’s. “I’ve given too much away to you already, and I can’t do it anymore.”

  Horror flashed across his face, like he hadn’t realized those words were going to come from his mouth. Rusty’s breath caught in his throat, and he tried to swallow down the fear that was climbing through him.

  This wasn’t right. Everything was spinning out of his control.

  One of the piano movers approached in Rusty’s periphery and said, “Hey man, I think we’re ready. Can we follow you back to your apartment?”

  “Sure,” he said weakly. “Give me a couple of minutes to say goodbye.”

  “Of course. Take your time.”

  By the time the guy was gone, Niles had managed to wipe his face blank of emotion again. Victor appeared in the doorway with a cardboard box. He evidently couldn’t read the tension between Niles and Rusty, or else chose to ignore it.

  “What about your mom’s piano books and sheet music?” Victor asked Niles. “Do you want Rusty to have this stuff too? I don’t know why you’d want it, since you can’t read music and won’t have a piano. But you haven’t gotten a chance to go through it all yet, so I wasn’t sure.”

  Niles’s wall of indifference tumbled down with no warning. His shoulders hitched up, and his eyes blazed with distress. Rusty would have reached for him if he’d still had the right.

  “Yeah, he can have it,” Niles said stiffly.

  “Wait,” Rusty said. “You should go through it first. See if there’s anything you want to keep.”

  “No. It’s fine. It’s all yours.”

  Victor handed the box to Rusty, and their eyes met. Victor’s were full of warning, but Rusty had no idea what he was trying to communicate.

  “Well, I guess that’s that,” Niles said, a little too brightly, like he was trying extra hard to be nonchalant. He walked into his house without saying goodbye, leaving Victor and Rusty on the front porch alone.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Rusty said to Victor. Panic was rising through him.

  “Go, I think,” Victor replied. Though he didn’t sound too certain either. “He’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Rusty nodded because what else could he do? Victor left him on the porch, so he made his way to his car. And then he drove to his apartment, piano movers in tow, and tried to ignore the painful pounding of his heart and the sensation that everything between him and Niles had just been irrevocably broken.

  Loneliness twisted through Niles as he stared at the historical Western clothes he’d moved from his childhood bedroom to the master bedroom closet. Cricket Plague Days was the next day, and he was having trouble mustering up any enthusiasm for it. For anything at all, truth be told.

  Ever since Rusty had come for his mom’s piano, Niles had been suffering with a bit of an emotional hangover. He didn’t know what had come over him, and he’d resolutely refused to talk to Victor about it.

  He didn’t know how to trust himself when it came to Rusty. Didn’t know how to shake off the rejection. Originally, he’d thought he’d be fine. He’d been sure he’d be able to disassociate himself from his emotions like he’d always done with other men. But then, seeing Rusty in the truck with his mom’s piano, realizing that both Rusty and this piece of his mother would soon be permanently out of his life, knowing that his relationship with Rusty was ending for good—Niles had never felt quite so alone.

  He was so alone.

  Niles glanced around his new room, which was slowly coming together. He had more important things to worry about than his failing love life.

  Victor had helped Niles move into the master bedroom, and it had been strange to sleep there, even with all of his stuff around him and a brand-new mattress. He’d considered begging Victor to join him, but that would be too pathetic.

  It would be nice to have Victor beside him in bed, though—like in college when they’d fallen asleep watching movies on his laptop. Not for the first time, Niles wished he and Victor had a spark. But they didn’t. Victor was way out of his league.

  No.

  The word popped in Niles’s head like a soap bubble.

  No.

  Victor wasn’t right for him, and it had nothing to do with leagues or who was hotter or more experienced. There was nothing wrong with him, and it didn’t matter that he wasn’t as attractive and that his experience equaled a bunch of bad incidents in club parking lots and Rusty.

  I might be alone, but I’m just fine.

  Niles sat down, dizziness hitting him with a sudden ferocity.

  “You okay?” Victor asked. He was doing stretches in the empty space in front of Niles’s dresser, looking all flexible and sexy as shit. So, yeah, Victor was kind of out of everyone’s league. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that Niles needed to stop comparing himself to other people or worrying about invented inadequacies.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, you are,” Victor said with a cursory leer.

  “I am,” Niles said again.

  Victor slowly sat up straight and stared at him, his eyes unexpectedly intense. “You are fine, as in you’re going to be fine. And you are also fine, as in hot.”

  “I think you’re right,” Niles said faintly.

  “I’m glad you have faith in my expert opinion.”

  Niles threw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”

  Victor tossed it back and then did some bendy stretch that seemed impossible and impossibly erotic all at once.

  “I need to work on my self-esteem,” Niles said.

  Victor unfolded himself from his stretch and grinned. “I think you are abso-fucking-lutely correct.”

  After Victor finished his stretches and Niles had selected his costume for the next day, he caught Victor fiddling with his phone.

  “What are you doing?” Niles asked.

  “Oh, just checking out Grindr. I think small towns make me horny.”

  “Is Rusty on there?” Niles’s stomach turned over at the thought, and he had to slow his breathing.

  Victor dropped the phone and turned toward him. Heat blossomed across Niles’s cheeks.

  “I haven’t seen him,” Victor said, but in such a careful way, Niles wasn’t sure he believed him.

  “What about The Todd?” Niles asked, trying to divert the attention away from his own sad sack love life. “Surely there aren’t tons of guys close by, so if he were on there, you’d see.”

  “Nope.”<
br />
  “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Niles said, barely holding in his chuckle. “You’re totally going to fuck him, aren’t you?”

  “Todd?” Victor said with a little bit too much protest.

  “Yeah, Todd. You said you wanted to blow him the other day.”

  “I was kidding! He’s hot, but I have standards.”

  Niles couldn’t keep the laugh inside this time. “Since when!”

  “Since recently,” Victor replied primly.

  Victor did have standards. His guys had to be hot, single, and ultimately unavailable. A nice guy showing true interest in him was the fastest way to make him run in the opposite direction.

  And wasn’t it funny that Niles could so clearly see how Victor harmed his relationships but hadn’t recognized how he sabotaged his own until it was too late?

  Todd had told Rusty that they were going to breakfast at the old truck stop on the interstate, only to take him to Bushyhead Homestead. He’d been tricked, no doubt about it. The truck stop, which was an absolute diamond in the rough, and Bushyhead Homestead were close to each other, so Rusty didn’t realize he’d been duped until Todd pulled into the overflow parking lot at the museum.

  “What the hell?” Rusty said, anger and surprise ripping through him without any outlet.

  “Cricket Plague Days is today,” Todd explained, like that made a lick of difference.

  “So? You promised me biscuits and gravy.”

  Rusty was all torn up about Niles—more so now that he had that piano in his living room. It was a stark reminder of the horror in Niles’s eyes when he admitted he’d already given away too much. And Jackie’s words, which had taken up residence in his brain like unwelcome parasites, echoed through his head every time Rusty closed his eyes.

  “There’ll be food here, I’m sure. It’s a farmers market,” Todd grumbled.

  “Have you ever come to this? You’ve never mentioned going before.”

  “My family used to come together every year. That stopped when I came out,” Todd said matter-of-factly, and Rusty winced. Todd’s relationship with his family was so strange—everything fine on the surface but broken on the inside.

  “Look, man, I can’t stay here. We did this at the Bluestem Bluegrass Festival when we showed up together, and I know it hurt him. I’m not hurting him anymore. You need to take me home.”