by Andrew Grey
“Okay. But call me if you need a ride. It isn’t that far.” I made him promise, and then Luka hurried away, heading toward town.
Chet rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s put this away and you can take him home so he can change. Then maybe we can go back to the house, have lunch, and spend part of the afternoon on the porch. I came here to relax, not do manual labor.” He cocked his eyebrows. “Maybe we can call Payton to check in.” He grabbed the tools and was already heading to the shed by the time I ran off to catch Luka.
He returned with me, and after checking that everything was properly locked up, we rode into town. Chet sat in the back, and Luka held my hand as we rode. It was so nice, and I could get used to that kind of simple intimacy. I understood fucking and sex and being hot for one another, but I was also discovering the joy of simply holding hands and doing things together. I found a parking space in front of Luka’s building and pulled in to let him get out.
I hadn’t been expecting him to lean in and kiss me deeply. “You keep the cemetery and you stay.” He smiled and kissed me again, then backed out, and it wasn’t until I pulled away that I realized just what Luka had said and it clicked what he was expecting. I was so screwed, and I was going to have to set him straight. I couldn’t have him thinking that I was going to stay here permanently. I needed to work, and that was back in New York.
“Shit….”
“Yeah. He’s in love with you too. He looks at you like you hung the moon, and I don’t blame him. You went to bat to protect his job, and just saying that you were going to stay was enough to make him giddy. He’s built his hopes on you and thinks you’re going to stay permanently. And that isn’t going to happen… is it? Are you going to stay here and leave New York and your work behind?”
Was that what I wanted? Here I had a home that was huge and more than I could ever dream of affording in the city. I had a car, and thanks to Uncle Samuel, I had options for what I wanted to do with my life. There was enough money that I had the luxury of making a change. Did I want to go back to auditions and scraping by to live in a city where space was measured in thousands of dollars a square foot? I loved the theater and wanted to be able to return to the stage, but the rest of it….
I had never really fallen in love with New York the way others had. It was where I had to live in order to be in the shows I loved. There was something to be said about living in a smaller town. I was already getting to know people. In New York, I didn’t know the people in the apartment next to mine. I hardly ever saw them.
“Are we going to go?” Chet asked, and I nodded, pulling myself out of my thoughts, and began the drive home.
I parked in front of the house and waved to the elderly neighbor, Cordy, sitting on her porch, taking in the fresh air.
She motioned me over. “Can you help me? I had the rug in the living room cleaned, and they put the table back in the wrong place.” She hauled herself up using her cane, and I followed her inside and adjusted the location of the table until she was happy.
“I’m sorry about Samuel. We used to sit on the porch together all the time.” She reached into a nearby tissue box and pulled one out. “I’m going to miss him.”
I didn’t know what to say. “Me too.”
She nodded. “Thank you for your help.”
I nodded and followed her back outside. She sat in her chair and waved as I headed to my front porch, where Chet waited for me.
I MADE lunch, and Chet and I spent much of the afternoon outside on the porch. I read a book, and Chet played games on his phone. Between us we drank a pitcher of lemonade and tea, and we stretched out with our feet up, soaking in the fresh breezes.
“I could stay like this forever,” Chet said, and I chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I miss the city, but this has a lot going for it.”
“I know.” I turned to look at the house. “I could live here and….”
“But what would you do?”
“I don’t know yet. I have options. But this could be home.”
I closed my eyes and let the idea sink in. I could make a home here. People walking their dogs on the sidewalk, each saying hello and waving, some stopping to talk for a few minutes. It felt like what a home should be, like a real, permanent place was possible.
But everything came with a price, and I knew this dream had one hell of a big one.
Chapter 8
“I’M GOING on up to bed,” Chet said, whining a little as he leveraged himself out of the chair. “It’s not even ten o’clock, but I’m tired.” He shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with me? In New York I’d just be getting started. We’d still be onstage, and then afterward we’d go out for hours.” He yawned and then groaned. “I’m getting old.”
I laughed. “You’re twenty-nine. Don’t be such a drama queen.”
Chet put his hands on his hips, glaring at me. “I’ll have you know I have been a drama queen since I was fourteen years old, and it’s one of the things I’m damn good at.”
“No argument there.” Drama in all its forms was Chet’s forte. “Seriously, though, you’re starting to unwind from the city pace. It gets into our bones and we run fast and hard. Most of the time we don’t even know we’re doing it until we actually slow down for a little while.” I stood and pulled my vibrating phone out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Jonah? I be done soon. I can walk to your house if you still want me to come,” Luka said with a lot of noise in the background.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes to pick you up.” I hung up, and Chet said good night and went inside. I walked to the car and headed to town.
Luka waited outside the restaurant, shuffling his weight nervously from foot to foot. I pulled over, and he practically jumped inside. “I told them I leave in two weeks and they say today my last day.” He pulled the door closed and slumped in his seat.
“Then call Billy tomorrow and tell him. He needed help right away, so he’ll probably put you on the schedule.” I patted his leg to reassure him.
Luka sighed. “Sometimes I no understand people here. They nice one day and mean the next. I tell George when I come in that I leave in two weeks, and he say he appreciate the notice.” Luka scratched his head. “Then he tell me he find someone else and I go now.”
“Sometimes people surprise me too.” I had thought they were a family kind of place, but the incident with the server and now this had me rethinking my impression… and my patronage.
“Everyone surprise me here. I no see anything—how you say—coming at me. At home I understand. Here… no.”
“You will.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I knew what it felt like to be on the outside looking in. My teenage years had been like that, and if it hadn’t been for Chet and the drama club, I probably would have been completely alone for much of my adolescence. “Sometimes it takes time.”
Luka sighed. “I miss Samuel.” He fastened his seat belt as I pulled out, starting back to the house. “He try to help me fit in. But I never do.”
“Would you rather I took you home?” I asked as I pulled up to a stop sign. “I can if that’s what you want.” I got the feeling that there was a lot more going on than just a lost job or missing my uncle. Something deep and hurtful from inside Luka had risen to the surface. My guess was that he was profoundly homesick, and I wished I could help.
Luka shook his head. “Please. I no want to be alone.” He sat straighter, and I pulled through the intersection and drove the six or seven blocks home.
We walked up to the house from the car, and I took his hand, squeezing it, trying to provide some sort of comfort. But I didn’t know what the hell to do for him other than listen if he wanted to talk. Luka remained silent as I opened the front door and we went inside.
A single light burned in the hallway. “Do you want to sit and talk?”
Luka shook his head. “No talking. Not now.” He squeezed my hand, his own shaking a little, emotions close to the surface.
I led the way up to the b
edroom, past the partially closed door to Chet’s room. “Why don’t you shower and clean up if you want. I’ll lock up the house and meet you back here.” I figured giving Luka some time alone might be the right thing to do. He headed to the bathroom, and I went back downstairs to check all the doors and turn off the lights before returning.
Water ran in the bathroom. I stood outside the door but heard nothing more. I hoped Luka was okay. He seemed to be, so I went to the bedroom to turn down the bed and get undressed. As I did, I bumped the bedside table, knocking Luka’s wallet to the floor. Papers and things scattered, and I hurriedly picked them up, setting the wallet and the contents on the table.
I wasn’t going through his things. I never meant to pry, but a picture caught my eye as I lifted it off the floor. A baby, wrapped in a patterned blanket, blue eyes shining toward the camera. She was a cutie for sure.
“Jonah.”
I put the picture on Luka’s wallet, then turned to where he stood in nothing but a towel. “I knocked your wallet on the floor. I’m sorry.” I saw his gaze settle on the picture. “She’s beautiful,” I whispered.
Luka nodded. “She my daughter. She part of my shame.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, trying to hold it together. “Today her one birthday. She my daughter and I never see her.” He lifted the picture carefully, almost as though he were lifting his child.
I turned away to wipe my eyes. “You never got to see her?” I asked, sitting next to him. All that separated me from all of him was a towel. Usually being this close to Luka’s nakedness sent heat through me. To say I felt nothing would be a lie, but this wasn’t a time to think about sex, not when Luka’s heart was laid bare.
He shook his head. “I like men… but I try to be like everyone else.” Luka breathed deeply. “I…. Mama, she get Alina, say we good together. Make marriage.” His breathing grew shallow.
“It’s okay. Just relax and take it easy. You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.” I was getting a pretty good idea of what might have happened already.
“I tell.” He took another deep breath. “Mama arrange for us to get married. Her daddy agree and that it. We supposed to get married. No one talk to me. I a man and I get to decide. Mama cry and I give in. Alina and I supposed to get married, but I no interested. I try call off, but no. Alina insist and we lie together. I try to be good to her, but she get pregnant.”
“Was there someone else you liked?” I asked.
“Yes.” Luka shook his head. “Anyway. I tell Mama I can’t get married. That I no love Alina and that I leave for America. She ask if I… strange—that how Mama put it—and I tell her. She get really mad and tell me that Alina not for me. She call off wedding and everyone turn back on me. Alina not see me, and her family take her away. No let me see. They say I not ever see baby, and I leave for America before she born.” Luka wiped his eyes with his hands. “Alina send picture because she nice person, with note that she get married. So Hana not mine anymore.” Luka shook his head. “I strong and I not cry like baby.”
“It’s okay to cry.” I took his hand. “And Hana will always be your daughter. No one can take that away from you.”
“But I never get see her. Alina have new husband and he Hana’s daddy. They no tell her about me. I bring shame because I like….” He motioned between us.
“Because you’re gay?”
“Yes. They never tell her because they no want her to be like me. No one like me. So I came to America to find someone like me… and I meet you.” Luka turned to me, heaving in a chest full of air. “I no stupid. I know you stay, but only for now. You go back when you get call for part.” He slid closer. “It nice to know I have someone who like me.” He gently caressed my cheek.
“I like you, Luka. I more than like you.” I slid my hand on top of his. “You are a special man, and don’t let anything or anyone make you feel different.”
“I not. I just a man from Bosnia who fill his family with shame. I leave baby to come here. I….” His shoulders shook, and I held him to me, letting him get out the heart-deep pain that had him in its grip. There was nothing anyone could do other than offer comfort. This was pain that Luka had to manage on his own, as much as I wished I could say or do something to help alleviate it.
“You are the man I care about.” I gently lifted his chin with the tips of my fingers. “Your mama put you in a terrible position. Did you care for Alina?”
He nodded. “But I no love her, and I never love her.” He wiped his eyes.
“Then since you didn’t marry her, someone else did. Does he love her?”
Luka inhaled and paused. “I think so. He marry her with baby. So he probably love her if he help make her shame go away. So I hope she happy.”
“I do too. But would you have been able to make her happy or be happy yourself?” I shook my head. “My guess is that you would have grown to hate each other. She would want what you couldn’t give her, and marrying Alina would trap her in a loveless marriage with someone who would resent her for trapping him. Maybe you can ask your mama to send you more pictures?”
“No. Mama not talk to me since I leave. I write letters and she no answer. I ask brother and he say Mama get letters, but that all.”
“What about your dad?”
“He no talk to me either. I dead to him.” Luka lay back on the bed, his hands over his face. “I dead to my family and I dead to my daughter. There nothing I can do. It no matter.” He lay still. “I failure.”
“No, you aren’t. You’re a good man,” I countered.
Luka sprang back up. “How you know?” he demanded.
The words were out of my mouth before I could censor them. “Because I could never love someone who wasn’t a good man.”
“You love me?” Luka asked, and I nodded. I wasn’t going to deny it. “But it soon, so fast.”
“I know. And you don’t have to say it back. I always seem to be the one to fall in love before everyone else, and then I get hurt.” Luka opened his mouth, but I put my finger to his lips. “Just please forget I said anything, okay? I don’t want things to get weird between us. Because if I love you or if you love me, it doesn’t change who we are or the fact that I have to go back to New York, eventually.”
“How soon?” Luka asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe a few weeks.” I had no idea and didn’t want to promise anything. “Just, please… let’s just be who we are, okay?” I leaned against him, holding him, closing my eyes to take in his heady scent tinged with soap. He was fresh and clean, and as sexy as anyone I had ever met. Luka made me want things I couldn’t afford. The price was so high—for him and for me. He was building a life here, and taking him to New York was only going to relegate him to the worst jobs with very little chance of him going anywhere. It was a harsh city that could chew people up and spit them out. I didn’t want that for Luka. All I wanted was for him to be happy, and his best chance for that happiness was here.
Luka nodded and closed the distance, the bed groaning under us. I slipped off, stood between Luka’s legs, and tugged away the towel. Pulling off my clothes, I stared at him—his narrow hips, broad chest, thick legs. But it was mostly his eyes that drew me to him. The hurt was there, but they were so filled with determination, I knew he wouldn’t be down for long.
“What is it you really want, Luka?” I leaned over him. “If you could have anything at all, what would it be?”
“I don’t know. A good life… maybe family here. One that no feel shame toward me.” He pulled me down, and I held him in return. “I know I cannot see Hana. It would be very hard on her, and she has her own family and a better life. Alina will be good mother, and she’ll be loved. Just not by me.”
“People I know in New York, people like us, gay people, say that when their families turn their backs on them, they have to make their own family. Sometimes the family we’re born with can’t or won’t support us, and we have to make our own.”
“Did yours support you?�
�� Luka asked.
“My dad did and does. He’s a really wonderful man. I think he keeps wondering when I’m going to settle down, find a husband, and make him a grandpa.” Luka looked at me as though I’d completely lost my mind. “Through adoption. I’m not looking to get pregnant.” I had to smile, and Luka chuckled. It was good to see him looking happier. “How about we go to bed?”
Luka nodded and climbed under the covers. “Is it okay if we don’t… make love?”
I settled under the covers as well, using Luka’s shoulder as a pillow. “Of course. We’ll have plenty of time.” I leaned up to kiss him, and Luka held me close. I could tell he was still down, and he had every right to be. I tried to imagine how I would feel if I were in his place, and wondered how he bore it. I knew I’d find it hard to give up my child, even if I’d never seen her.
He held me as though I was a comfort, and I quickly fell to sleep.
I WOKE early, leaned on an elbow, and watched Luka as he slept, lying on his side, facing me, eyes closed, mouth open slightly, his darkly bearded face a mask of relaxation.
“What you doing?”
“Watching you sleep,” I answered in a whisper. “Are you feeling better?” I ran my fingers down his arm, Luka’s muscles quivering under my touch.
“Yes.” He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
The first light of day hit the windows, casting shadows over Luka, shining in his dark hair. How anyone could see this man and not want him was beyond me. He was stunning and gorgeous, but his most endearing qualities were the ones that shone from inside: his kindness, gentleness, and fortitude. Before last night, I’d known Luka was strong; I’d seen it in his movement and physicality. But what Luka let me see was his real strength, the guts it took to go on, living with loss.
I had been lucky. My life had been easy compared to Luka’s. My biggest worry was what I was going to do with part of my inheritance from my uncle. Yes, inheriting a cemetery was unusual, and some might think it morbid, but it was a cakewalk compared to never being able to see your child again.