by Kyle Baxter
Larry: Why do you think that?
Joel: I dunno, fear?
Larry: Yeah, and maybe you’re projecting.
Joel: Ouch.
Larry: You’re jumping to conclusions. I get it, you don’t want to get hurt. But don’t prejudge what’s going on. Try living in the moment.
Joel: No more self-help books for you.
Larry: <3<3<3
He did a quick Google search for “Frederick d’Pierrepont” but found nothing. There was someone with a similar name, but he was an older children’s author.
In no time, they pulled into the train station at Altstadt, the largest city and capital of Etreustein. Standing, they collected their bags and then moved to exit the car. They were the only people leaving.
Standing on the top step of the railway car, Joel looked out to see that the railway station was not much more than an old two-story building with a covered platform serving the lone track. A small group of people boarded at the other end, but otherwise, it was deserted.
A large wooden shed sat beside the building, and there was a parking lot behind it. Hopefully he could find a taxi there. This is a really small country. He’d read that but somehow still expected something more modern.
Freddie stood behind him, fidgeting. He took his duffle bag off his shoulder and pulled Joel aside before they left the train.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Freddie looked down, wringing his cap in his hands. “I should have told you before now.” His brow was sweaty.
Joel nodded. Was Freddie finally going to come clean with what was bothering him?
“I should’ve explained last night, but everything was so nice. We were having such a nice time, and I didn’t want to spoil it. I loved every moment of it.”
Joel smiled at him. That was a good start, but then Freddie took a deep breath and continued. “I really enjoyed the time we spent together, but my life here in Etreustein is very complicated.”
Joel’s stomach tightened. Oh God, he is having a no homo moment. If he starts about his family . . .
“My family is complicated. You see, I have a lot of family obligations. Duty, really,” Freddie said. He looked down at his boots and shifted back and forth before looking back up. “How do you say this? I’m . . . I’m . . .”
Joel cringed and put a hand up to his forehead. This had happened before. It happened to a lot of gay men. He’d meet a nice guy, they’d have a nice time, and then the guy would shut down when things got too close. Often, he wasn’t really out yet and was too scared. At least we didn’t sleep together. He held up a hand, cutting off Freddie’s speech, and anger flared bright behind his eyes. “You know what? You don’t have to keep going. It’s okay.”
Freddie stepped back. “What?”
“No, really, it’s okay,” Joel said between gritted teeth. “Look, I don’t care if you’re married or you’re dating someone or you’re just having a gay panic moment. I just . . .” He adjusted the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “I don’t care. I’ve been wearing the same damn clothes for two days, I’m tired, and I’ve got to find my family. I also have a life to get back to, you know? You do you.”
Joel stormed off the train, and ten feet away, he spun around. He felt stupid for liking the guy. It was only one night, but it felt like more. Freddie stood on the top step, looking lost.
Joel swallowed hard. “You know, I really thought you were different. Best of luck to you in all your future endeavors.”
Freddie stood there, mouth open, ready to say something, but doing nothing and only watching him. A thought seemed to flicker over his warm, green eyes, but he just closed his mouth and ducked his head. After putting on his tan beret, he stepped off the train. “I’m sorry, Joel. Take care of yourself.”
Joel strode away, tears burning his eyes.
❖
On the other side of the train station, Joel hailed a cab. The trip to the hotel through the picturesque streets was short but marvelous. The city lay in a valley, so it was ringed by majestic cloud-topped mountains. The outskirts of the city were filled with quaint timber-framed houses. They were called Fachwerkhaus—he looked it up. They passed by the center of town, the old Altstadt cathedral. It was huge and ornate but with clean, carved lines.
It reminded him of Germany. When he was a kid, his father—his biological father, Joseph—was stationed there. He loved it. Rolling down the window, he let the crisp, cool air hit his face. The smell of food cooking wafted on the breeze and he imagined it was schnitzel. He craved schnitzel. Every house the taxi passed had a chimney and every chimney had smoke coming from it. It was like a picture on a postcard.
The city quickly grew more modern closer to the municipal and business district. The tallest building stood only five stories or so, but there were several hotels, restaurants, and even a nightclub or two. It’s tiny. He reminded himself that the population of the country was only sixty thousand, and most of that was here. The outlying areas were farms and vineyards. There are more people in my neighborhood in New York.
Any other time, this would be a delight. He loved traveling. But his thoughts kept returning to the railway station and the way things ended with Freddie. I told Robert I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t having a vacation affair, but here I am already pining for a guy. I’m a mess.
How could he do that? How could he let himself be weak like that? Freddie’s just some guy, he chided himself. I’ve only known him for two days! Get a grip. But it seemed like so much more, and Freddie seemed like such a stand-up guy.
I could have at least let him finish talking. His stomach clenched; he’d let his anger get the best of him again. Maybe I overreacted. No, he’d been through this before. Getting attached to unavailable men was almost his MO. Like Larry, Joel fell fast, but unlike him, Joel held on too long. That’s how it was with Seth. I jumped in with both feet and how did that turn out? When Seth left, he swore it was the last time he’d go all in like that.
He reproached himself. I’m not doing this. I’m not letting this ruin my vacation. I had a nice time with a good guy. That was it. I need to grow up and move on. Thank God I didn’t have sex with him.
His mother waited in the lobby at the Sonne Hotel with a big hug. “Oh, you made it. I was so worried.” Her blonde hair was in a different style than it had been at Heathrow. Did she go to a salon already? Good for her. She did not treat herself enough.
“Mom, I was just stuck at the airport,” Joel protested as he set his bag down. “It was no big deal.”
His father came up behind her. “That’s what I kept trying to tell her, but you know your mother.”
“Hey, Dad.” Joel embraced him, patting his back. His hands did not touch when he reached around the large man.
“You okay?” Dad cuffed him in the shoulder. “Need any money?”
“I’m fine, Dad.” He flinched while his mother straightened his hair.
“See, I told you, Maria.” Dad put his arm around his shoulder. “He’s fine.”
“There were protests in Geneva, Hector. Geneva! I was worried. Besides, he’s my boy and I’ll fuss over him all I want,” she said. “We hardly ever get to see him.”
Joel playfully batted away her hands when she tried to straighten his shirt. “Where are the girls?”
Dad shook his head. “Mariah’s at the Breuer Museum.”
“A museum? Quelle surprise.” Joel shared a knowing glance with his mother.
“And Caty is shopping for new winter clothing,” Dad said with a groan. “It’s spring. We weren’t really prepared for a surprise cold snap. She wanted me to remind you that she expects you to hit the slopes with her. I already made arrangements with the hotel for you both.”
“At least she’ll be occupied for the afternoon. Is this weather going to last long?” Joel asked.
“Just most of our visit.” Mom folded her arms and grimaced. “I plan to spend most of that time in the hotel spa.”
“Or the bar,” Joel shot back
.
A petite woman, she reached up and playfully squeezed his cheeks. “I do love my mommy juice.” She patted his chest. “It’s so good you’re here with us. Thank you again for coming.” After giving him another kiss, she took his father’s arm and led him toward the lounge.
“Oh, and the rest of your luggage arrived with us,” his father said over his shoulder. “It’s in your room.”
With everything else going on, Joel hadn’t even thought of that. He watched them walk away for a long moment and thought about what his mother had said. How could he not have come? Everyone had issues with their parents, but despite his grousing, he knew he was a lucky man. He picked up his bag and went upstairs.
After settling into his room, Joel bounced back downstairs, ready to go out and find Mariah. He ran into Caterina in the lobby, where she was lugging big shopping bags through the large glass double doors. The doorman smirked as he held the door for her.
“Finally,” she said, shaking snow out of her hair. “Someone I can actually talk to.” She set her bags on a sofa and exchanged kisses with him.
“How’s it going, Caty Cat?” Smiling, he looked into the tops of her bags. Hmmm, not too much. Today was a light day.
“As well as can be expected.” Caty checked her phone while talking to him. “Dad is such a chore. All he talks about is his business meetings.”
Joel suppressed a laugh. He knew what she meant but . . . “That is why we’re here.”
“I understand that. Thanks, Joel.” She put her phone in her purse and looked him straight in the eye. “But I don’t have to like it. I just wish we could have gone to Paris and Rome first, not this cozy little hamlet. And I’m sorry but I just don’t care about the oil industry.”
“Fracking. Dad’s in fracking,” Joel explained. “The company is pioneering clean fracking for the new century.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you read the pamphlet.”
“Yeah, he slid one in my messenger bag in Heathrow,” Joel explained. He read it on the flight from London when Freddie became sullen.
He saw a thought cross Caty’s face and she let out a squeal, fidgeting excitedly. “But I’m so excited you and I are going skiing. It’s going to be so much fun! I’ve never gone skiing on a glacier!”
A smile took over his face, her excitement rubbing off on him. “That is going to be fun, but I think I may need new clothes too. I didn’t pack for skiing.”
Caty shook her head and gave a dismissive wave. “Oh, Dad said they’ll take care of us up top.”
Joel pointed at her shopping bags. “Then why did you go buy all of this?”
She put a hand on her hip and gave him a look that said, SRSLY? Dad’s reason for the European trip was ostensibly business, but hers was shopping.
“You’re right.” Joel held up his hands in defeat. “What was I thinking?”
She eyed the dark T-shirt with the red Superman S shield under his jacket. “You need to do some shopping too.”
Pulling his coat tight around him, he stuck his nose in the air.
“You used to wear nice clothes, Joel. What happened?” Caty reached over and ran a hand over his puffy down jacket.
He looked down at his feet. “You’ve heard of comfort food?” Joel opened his coat again to display his Superman shirt. “This is comfort clothing.”
“I’m so sorry, Jo Jo.” Caty stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss, then pulled out her phone again. “Hey, I just remembered . . . Have you seen the news?” She shoved her phone in his face. It was the picture he saw in the magazine of the unfortunate-looking prince. “You’ll like this. I mean, you and Mariah both love history and boring stuff.”
He pushed the phone away in irritation. “What?”
“There’s a huge uproar in the town. The prince—or one of them, I can’t remember—is back.” Caty read the article on the phone. “It says here—”
“Unless it’s affecting our vacation, I kinda don’t care.”
Caty waved a hand toward the TV in the lobby. “It’s all over the news. No new photos of him yet, but he’s sure to be at the party tonight.” She picked up her bags, started for the elevator, and said over her shoulder, “And don’t forget you’re taking me skiing.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever . . . See you later, Caty Cat. I’m going to go find Mariah.” He waved her off. He so did not care about celebrities, not the way she did. Stopping at the door, he turned back to her, but she was already gone. “Wait, what party?”
Shit shit shit! With all the commotion, he forgot all about the party. I wanted to lay low tonight. He fired off a quick text to the family group chat. Maybe I can get out of it.
Joel: So about this party tonight?
Mom: Isn’t it exciting? We’re going to a party at the palace!!!!
Joel: But I just got in.
Mom: Actually, come to think of it, it’s more like a castle, VERY medieval.
Dad: I told you about this in London.
Joel: I know but I’m really tired . . .
Dad: Joel, quit whining. It’s a brief business event, just a cocktail reception. And we’re ALL going. You can run the streets tomorrow.
He really did just want to stay in, but he already missed a day with the family due to his oversleeping. Bailing on this would be a dick move. WWSD? he asked himself.
Joel: Fine.
Still grumbling, Joel put in his earbuds, pulled up his favorite Spotify playlist on his smartphone, and let the music play. A block away from the hotel, he turned onto a cobblestone street. His mind was a jumble of thoughts. He might need a new jacket for the party tonight.
He wondered where Freddie was and how his reunion with his own family was going. Why did he go all no homo? Joel’s stomach ached; he regretted not letting Freddie speak. I should not have stormed off, but dammit, men and their bullshit are exhausting. I hate feeling like a doormat.
Looking up, he realized he was lost and panicked for a moment. Not good. You can’t not pay attention on a street in a foreign country. It’s not a tourist park; it’s a city. He looked around and carefully backtracked until he got on the main thoroughfare. Opening his phone, he then followed the directions from his maps app until he made it to the museum Mariah was visiting. Breuer Museum, his dad had said.
After making the requisite donation at the door, he quickly searched through the museum, looking for dark-haired Mariah. He found her sitting on a bench in the portrait gallery in the twentieth-century room. She wore headphones and was listening to a tour. He tapped her on the shoulder.
With a cry, she jumped and pulled him into a hug. He was struck again by how tall she was, nearly six-foot and only sixteen. And like him, she had thick, dark, wavy hair.
“How was the flight? Did you see the protests in Geneva?” Mariah asked and pulled him with her as she examined a painting more closely.
Joel bobbed his head. “A little bit. Most of it was dispersed by the time we got there.”
Her head turned back to him. “Uh . . . we?”
“The trooper from Heathrow?” He scratched the back of his head. “He and I had to share a room overnight.”
Mariah’s dark eyes went wide. “Really? Any sexy times happen?”
“No, definitely not.” Joel shook his head, though now he was starting to wish they had. Robert did say I should have an affair. He caught her carefully watching his face. “What?”
“Something clearly happened.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Did you get his number at least?”
“No, the moment we got here, we went our separate ways.” He lowered his head, waiting for her disappointment.
“JoOooeell,” she whined. “You can’t keep moping around about Seth.”
“I’m not moping,” Joel protested. “I brood. I don’t mope . . . Now, Caty said something about a returned prince or something?”
“Yes, and it’s fascinating to be here now.” Mariah’s eyes narrowed quickly. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doi
ng.”
“What am I doing?” He feigned innocence.
“Deflecting.” She scowled.
Joel wrinkled his nose. “Is it working?”
“Provisionally. Anyway, the oldest son, crown prince? He hasn’t been seen in public in a while, so there are lots of rumors flying around.” She leaned in and whispered to him. “There’s also kind of a family curse? You see, it seems like the oldest son rarely lives to take the crown. Lots of unfortunate deaths and such. It’s really interesting. And now the youngest son has come home?” Her gossipy tone surprised him. It was unlike her, but that did sound fascinating.
She continued. “There’s also an older sister, a princess, but the crown can only go to a man in Etreustein.”
“That’s backward,” Joel said with a frown. “What’s up with that?”
“The country is very conservative. So is the king. He’s been asked about it, but he’s just kind of ‘blah blah blah, that’s the way it’s always been.’ It’s the law, a House Law or something. So that means if something has happened to the crown prince, the throne goes to the younger boy and that a woman will be passed over. It’s so typical.”
Now that sounded like Mariah. “It really is unfair. Are you sure that’s how it’s going to go?”
“Oh yes, I researched it. That is the current monarch, King Leopold, and his wife, Stefanie.” She pointed at a painting of a tall, handsome man and his strawberry-blonde wife walking together in a green park. Leopold wore a dark suit and Stefanie a colorful sundress. It was realistic but with an almost unfinished look. It reminded Joel for all the world of Aaron Shikler’s portrait of JFK—head down, arms folded. It was that style. The comparison suddenly seemed apt. The Kennedys, like this royal family, seemed beset by tragedy.
“Leopold?” He pursed his lips, then said, “Now, that is very German. No paintings of their children?”
“There’s a group one from when they were kids. Over there.” She pointed at another. It was also very modern: four people all stylish in their Burberry and Calvin Klein, two teenage boys—young men, really—and a younger girl and boy.
“Oh yes, I’ve seen that one.” He pointed to the tow-headed younger boy with the long bangs and the big nose.