Bowerbirds
Page 20
Gabe leaned in close. “You look happy.”
“I think I am.”
“Happy looks good on you.”
“Yeah.” There was just one thing missing. James took a deep breath and leaned in close, pressing his lips to Gabe’s ear. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Mornings in the high Sierras are cold and clear, even in late July. Gabe wiggled himself out of the small tent and squinted into the early light. A few birch trees were reflected in the glassy stillness of the lake where he and James had pitched their tent two days earlier. He took a couple of deep breaths as he bent backwards, feeling his spine pop and crack. Logically, he knew the air was thinner, but with every breath he’d swear there was actually more oxygen in it. Or maybe his head was clearing because the sunlight didn’t need to fight its way through the fog and the smog.
James was asleep, the years of stress having melted away in the clean mountain air, giving him more peace than any sleeping pill or relaxation therapy. Gabe, on the other hand, was still decompressing, his internal clock waking him in time for international conference calls he didn’t have. And there was a bird with a high trilling song that sounded just a little too close to the TechPrim default ringtone. That would have to change when he got back.
He reminded himself that anyone of any importance knew exactly where he was and that there were ways of getting ahold of him. They were only a six-hour drive from home if he was really needed. If something completely went to shit, there was a seldom used but functional TechPrim helicopter which could make the trip in half the time.
He took another deep breath of icy air and turned his face to the sun.
The old propane powered camping stove was still set up from their dinner the night before. James had insisted on providing the camping equipment instead of letting Gabe purchase everything new. That meant the stove had seen better days and the tent had patches of duct tape here and there. Gabe had put his foot down on one front and bought new sleeping bags and air mattresses. If this was going to be the first proper vacation he or James had taken in years, they were going to sleep comfortably.
The propane hissed from the little burner as Gabe held out a match at arm’s length. He was hardly more than a generation removed from half-starved migrant farmworkers who survived in far harsher conditions, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a total city boy and more than a little afraid of blowing something up while trying to light a thirty-year-old stove.
There was a soft fwump as the gas caught. The day would turn blazing hot by ten, but for the next couple of hours it would be chilly enough to warrant a hot breakfast, or at least hot coffee.
He was warming his hands around a steaming cup of instant coffee, the smell drowning him in nostalgia as it was the only kind his mother ever drank, when he heard the tent flaps rustle. James poked his head out, squinting into the light. His hair was sticking out in every possible direction, still mussed from the previous night’s activities. He looked like he could easily fall back asleep. Instead he crawled from the tent.
“Coffee?”
James nodded.
“You got the stove working.”
“Fingers and eyebrows still attached.”
James’ responding smile was soft and still a little sleepy. Then he gave Gabe a small kiss which lingered and slowly deepened. Gabe put one arm around his waist and pulled him close. He could feel the first hints of stubble on James’ lip. That was new. Before Gabe could muse on that much more, James slipped the coffee from Gabe’s hands, took a small sip, then handed it back. “I’ll start breakfast.”
Like Gabe, James was having his own problems breaking years of habit. Unlike Gabe, James’ habits leaned more to the domestic. While James cracked a few eggs into a dented aluminum frying pan, Gabe tried not to think about the fact that his phone was locked in the car with a nearly flat battery. While he could possibly get a text or quick call through, there was zero data coverage so no emails or news. He briefly wondered if perhaps TechPrim should branch out into the telecommunication service provider side of things, but that would mean even more dealings with the FCC.
He chided himself for thinking about work on what was supposed to be proper vacation time. It had only been a couple of months since he’d promised to start delegating his responsibilities. At times it had been like detoxing with the guys or Tamyra physically blocking him from meetings he didn’t need to be in and shoving him in his car at six. Orders to go see James had usually taken the worst of the fight out of him. He took a moment to look James up and down then went to help him with the eggs.
“What would you like to do today?” James asked once breakfast was nearly finished. “It’s going to get hot.”
James’ had pointed out that July was not the ideal time to visit the eastern Sierras, but it was the earliest time they had matching vacation days and Gabe was determined to go as part of his campaign to not work himself into an early grave.
“What would you recommend?”
“Well, we could go up to Mono Lake. See the tufa cones and the sand flies. If you’re up for a longer drive, there’s the Bodie ghost town. Haven’t been there since I was a Kid.”
There was a shift in the breeze and Gabe could feel the first kiss of heat in the air. They had agreed to take a whole week off, their friends insisting that a weekend away didn’t count. He’d checked the weather before leaving and it was supposed to cool down a little later in the week. Not that it wouldn’t be blazing hot, but it might drop to something tolerable enough to go hiking across desert salt beaches.
“Or,” James said, noticing Gabe’s delay in responding, “We can move our camp chairs under those trees, do some reading, make out a bit, then jump in the lake when it gets really hot. And after that, take a nap?”
“I did pack a book.” An actual, printed-on-paper, work of fiction, book.
“I know. So did I.” James grinned at him and he grinned back.
“I think our friends would be proud of us if we spent at least some of our vacation just sitting under a tree, reading.”
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END
About the Author
Ada Maria Soto is a Mexican/American expat living in the South Pacific. She’s a veteran of the theatre and film business as well as all the lousy jobs that come with two liberal arts degrees. A psychologist once told her she has a fantasy prone personality, but since she’s trying to be a writer that’s not a bad thing. She is a fan of rugby, cricket, and baseball, who loves to cook, knit, and poke around her garden. She loves to hear from her fans, or really anyone who has read her work.
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Also by Ada Maria Soto
THE AGENCY
His Quiet Agent
Merlin in the Library
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WINDSOR CLUB
Tactical Submission
Triple Windsor
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NESTED HEARTS
Empty Nests
Bowerbirds
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Eden Springs
And Everything Nice
Through the Dark Clouds