A Still, Small Voice

by D. W. Marchwell

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I FEEL so naughty.”

  Oscar looked over from the driver’s seat and raised his eyebrows. “Hold that thought. We’re almost there.” His hand slid over the console to rest on Noah’s thigh.

  “I mean about skipping out on work,” Noah said, his hand finding Oscar’s and holding on.

  “I didn’t.” Oscar squeezed his thigh. “Can’t wait to get you in our own private Jacuzzi.”

  Noah had been busy with trying to get as much work done as possible, and of course with the show on Saturday night, and hadn’t done a lot of helping when it came to planning the weekend. Oscar had made almost all of the arrangements and had refused to tell Noah much about it. So to get this piece of information as they were only minutes away from the lodge in Jasper made Noah want to reach over with his foot and put the pedal to the metal. “If you tell me that there will be a private Jacuzzi with champagne and strawberries, I might just have to rip your clothes off as soon as we’re through the door.”

  “Strawberries?” Oscar looked over momentarily, confused. “I thought you liked raspberries better?”

  “Oh, Jesus.” Noah whimpered and moved to lean over the console to plant a kiss on his lover’s cheek, but his seatbelt held him firmly in his seat. “You didn’t.”

  “I might have,” Oscar whispered coyly. “There might also be a few other surprises.”

  Noah took Oscar’s hand between his and brought it up to his mouth, taking the thumb into his mouth and sucking on it.

  “Careful, if we end up in the hospital, there won’t be any surprises. Other than no sex for weeks.”

  Noah relinquished the thumb and returned Oscar’s hand to his thigh, so impatient to have this man all to himself for three days that he was practically vibrating with anticipation. Noah was almost certain that he had fallen hopelessly in love with Oscar, and he’d wanted to say those words to him so many times over the past week, but he’d always chickened out. He was pretty sure that Oscar felt the same way, but Noah kept experiencing these moods of uncertainty, totally unsure about what was acceptable to say. Was three weeks long enough to know that you were in love with someone? Was saying “I love you” after three weeks considered bad form? Would Oscar think that Noah was too needy and clingy if he confessed what he was feeling?

  Noah and Aiden had discussed this new relationship, and he’d been comforted by Aiden’s admission that it all depended on the person. Some people fell in love and married within the same month and stayed together forever. And some others who’d dated for years still ended up divorcing. Despite the sound advice, Noah had decided that he didn’t want to be the first one to say those three words. He’d always laughed when this was a central joke in a movie or when he heard friends or coworkers talking about how they just couldn’t be the one to say it first. But he was realizing that he laughed because he didn’t understand all of the implications. If you said it first and the other person didn’t say it back, did it mean you were wasting your time? Or if you said it first and the other person reacted badly, how did you deal with the humiliation? Regardless of the answers to those questions, Noah had decided to bide his time, to wait for the perfect moment.

  And as he and Oscar pulled the luggage from the vehicle and made their way to the front desk of the lodge, Noah figured there was a very good chance that the perfect moment wasn’t too far away. The lodge was secluded, there weren’t too many people around, and the polite young lady at the desk informed them that their “suite” was ready and waiting for them. Suite. Noah found himself even more intrigued to find out what, precisely, Oscar had booked for them. He already knew that there was a Jacuzzi in the room, besides the regular bathroom, so he couldn’t imagine what else could have been stuffed into what was essentially a hotel room.

  He followed Oscar to the stairs and then down the hall to Suite 212. He waited patiently for Oscar to slip the key card in and out of the lock, dismissing the urge to make some crude remark about how good Oscar was at sliding things in and out, and walked past Oscar when invited to do so.

  His eyes noticed everything and nothing. Noah had a hard time focusing on any one particular detail. It wasn’t your typical room; it had a separate living room, very small kitchen area, a huge television, a computer modem, and a king-size bed in the bedroom. The Jacuzzi was off the bedroom, right next to the bathroom. And while the fabrics and furniture weren’t precisely Noah’s style, the earth tones all seemed to encourage relaxation.

  “Well, whadda ya think?”

  Noah turned to see Oscar standing in the bedroom doorway, already having deposited the suitcases on the bed. “It seems so quiet. I haven’t heard any sirens for hours.”

  “You’ve been living downtown too long,” Oscar said as he laughed and moved to embrace Noah. “My mission this weekend is to have you so relaxed and stress-free that you’ll be putty in my hands.”

  “I’m always putty in your hands,” Noah said as he felt Oscar’s lips on his neck. “What do you want to do first?”

  “I’m starving,” Oscar admitted. “How about an early dinner?”

  “And then?”

  Oscar waggled his eyebrows, and Noah laughed, blushing to the tips of his ears. Oscar might not have seemed like the obvious sexually open type three weeks ago, but he was certainly making up for lost time now. If Oscar kept up this pace, Noah was quite convinced that he wouldn’t be able to walk in another month or so. Oscar kissed one of Noah’s ears. “Let’s go and find something to eat. I saw this bistro when we were driving in.”

  They walked out of the lodge and headed toward Patricia Street, stopping at the bistro. Noah wasn’t sure they’d be able to get in; the place looked like it took reservations. But when Oscar greeted the hostess, Noah heard him announce a reservation under the name Reynolds, and seconds later, Noah was seated at a small table for two overlooking the quaint street they’d just strolled down. There were specialty shops and signs for tours and treks everywhere. Noah didn’t know he was smiling until Oscar interrupted his thoughts.

  “Your face lights up when you smile.”

  Noah’s smile grew even more. “Guess I’ve had a lot to smile about lately.” Noah felt Oscar’s leg against his.

  “So I did some sleuthing on the Internet and found out that the chef who owns this restaurant doesn’t believe in fast dining.” Oscar picked up the leather-clad menu and opened it. “Apparently, we should count on being here for at least two hours.”

  Noah nodded, slightly disappointed that he would have to wait that long before having Oscar all to himself and naked. “Have I thanked you yet for all of this?”

  “Hmmm,” Oscar hummed. “I’m not sure. You’ll have to do it again… later… when we’re alone.”

  Noah was grateful that the waitress came by at that point. It wasn’t that he minded the flirting but rather the reaction it produced in his pants. Of course, he didn’t have as much to cover up as Oscar, but Noah still found public erections a tricky thing to hide, so he tried to avoid them, something that was not so easy with Oscar looking at him as if he were dessert.

  Oscar ordered the Venison Emince and Portabella Mushroom while Noah, not feeling adventurous enough to try deer meat, ordered the Orange-Marinated Lamb Sirloin. They chatted about the small-town atmosphere, the small, intimate restaurant they sat in, and Oscar presented him with a long list of possible activities scheduled for tomorrow. Noah didn’t really have a preference, other than ensuring he was with Oscar, so he just shrugged and told Oscar to surprise him. And Noah had no doubt that Oscar would do just that.

  NOAH had planned to intercept the bill at the end of dinner, only to learn that Oscar had already provided them with his card when they’d entered. I didn’t even notice, Noah thought as they pushed themselves away from the table and exited the restaurant. Instead of going straight back to the lodge, Oscar suggested a little evening stroll, and Noah was only too happy to go along. And he wasn’t the least bit surprised when Oscar surreptitiously
reached out to take his hand, just holding it while they chatted about the stores and houses they passed.

  Since it wasn’t really skiing season, they found themselves alone, occasionally seeing other couples or families who must have lived year-round in the resort community. Noah was surprised at how comfortable he was; he wasn’t really a prude when it came to public displays of affection, but he had been conditioned to hide his sexuality for fear of losing his teaching job. He was amazed that even after six years, that particular old habit was still with him. “This is nice,” he said finally, after a lull in the conversation.

  “It is a beautiful place, yeah.”

  “No,” Noah said, squeezing Oscar’s hand. “I meant this.”

  Oscar smiled and looked at Noah. “I’ve discovered when it comes to you, I have very poor impulse control.”

  Noah nudged him with his shoulder. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

  They came to a little bench by a baseball diamond that faced a condominium complex of some sort, and Oscar suggested they sit for a while. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, suddenly pensive. Noah waited for him to say what was on his mind.

  “I’ve been doing some thinking about your problem,” Oscar said after a few minutes. Noah said nothing, waiting for the thoughts to finish. “I think it’s a wonderful thing you want to do for him, despite how he treated you, but there’s some things that just don’t add up for me.”

  “Okay,” Noah said, leaning forward and moving closer at the same time.

  “There has to be some sort of explanation why he chose to report you. He knew you were gay, and whether or not he is, that was something you even admitted to him. Correct?”

  “Correct.”

  Oscar was flexing his fingers, the joints making cracking sounds. Noah had come to realize this was just something Oscar did when he was thinking. “And then there’s the police officer’s reaction, and the principal’s.” Oscar flexed his fingers some more. “I don’t understand why the principal would allow you to be taken out in handcuffs in front of an entire school filled with children and teachers. I mean, wouldn’t he just be inviting a hailstorm of questions from justifiably concerned parents?”

  Noah could only shrug.

  “And the police officer. I’m no expert, but isn’t that against protocol? To stop the escorting of a handcuffed suspect and leave you alone in the hallway, surrounded by students and teachers? Just so he could go and congratulate Paul on his marriage?”

  “Good questions… all of them.”

  “I’m assuming that these issues were never raised by your lawyer… or you?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I was just so glad it was all over that I didn’t want to think about it anymore.”

  “I know it will sound crazy, ridiculous even, but do you think that there might be something more between Paul and this officer?”

  Noah shrugged, caught completely off-guard. “I don’t know.” Noah looked down at the ground and exhaled loudly. “Like I said, I was just so glad it was all over, I sort of—”

  Oscar sat up straight and put his arm across Noah’s shoulders. “I apologize, baby. I shouldn’t have brought it up again. I know this was supposed to be a different kind of weekend, but I find that I’m… really fucking pissed that this happened and even more so that no one seemed to be paying attention to what it did to you.”

  Noah smiled and leaned against Oscar. “Don’t ever apologize for wanting to help me.” Noah moved his head forward until he could give Oscar a kiss on the lips. “And besides, since I found you, I’m not thinking about it as much.”

  Oscar kissed his forehead, and Noah felt like he wanted to stay with him, right there on that bench, forever. It was a perfect moment. There was another moment of silence, after which Oscar kissed his forehead again and sighed. “All I think about is you,” Oscar admitted. Noah turned to look at him, feeling as if he’d been sucker-punched. “I think I love you, Noah.”

  Noah reached up again and kissed Oscar on the lips, his eyes squeezed tight against the heat building behind them. He pulled away and felt his face positively splitting from the huge, goofy grin that was on his face. “I think I love you too.”

  “I know it’s soon and all, but… I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone else who….”

  “I know, Oscar.” Noah took Oscar’s hands in his. “I know.”

  “I think you’re the most generous person I’ve ever met. The kindest… the sexiest, for sure,” Oscar said, his cheeks flushing and his eyes darting between their clasped hands and Noah’s eyes.

  “And the biggest sap too.” Noah kissed Oscar again. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to start bawling like I did when I saw Shelter.” Noah offered a weak laugh.

  Oscar inhaled quickly, the sound of the air rushing into his lungs making Noah’s brow furrow. “I love that movie.”

  “I’ll get it for you for your next birthday, then.”

  “Already have it,” Oscar said as he kissed Noah’s forehead and stood up. “That TV room with the closet? The closet is filled with CDs and DVDs.”

  “Wow,” Noah mouthed and rose to walk beside his lover again. “We should do a movie marathon one weekend,” he said as he reached for Oscar’s hand.

  “It’ll have to wait until I can keep my hands off you,” Oscar said with a wink. “Speaking of which….”

  Noah fell into step with Oscar, trying to keep up with the brisk pace and trying not to laugh at how quirky and incredible and loving and unique Oscar was. The fact that he was also sexy as hell and the most amazing lover Noah had ever known was just icing on the cake.

  OSCAR was sound asleep. It was only Noah who was awake at two in the morning, unable to settle his mind from asking the same questions over and over. They’d spent the rest of the evening in the Jacuzzi and the shower. They’d both collapsed, completely exhausted, just before midnight, with no big plans for the next day other than to find a great place to have brunch and then do some touristy things. Noah only hoped he’d be able to fall back to sleep so he could enjoy whatever they ended up doing.

  Noah wasn’t so concerned about finding answers to why the principal had acted the way he had; Noah already suspected the principal did nothing to help him right away because Thomas was a very weak principal. He was not in control of the school—the vice-principal, Shane, was the one who most of the teachers named as “Thomas’s enforcer.” Thomas was the accepted visionary for the school, and Shane was responsible for absorbing any and all tasks that would diminish Thomas’s reputation as everyone’s friend. And then there had been those teachers who did whatever they wanted, whether Thomas agreed with their actions or not. Noah had been at the school for several years before the arrival of either Thomas or Shane and had become inured to the counterproductive selfishness of those teachers who did whatever they wanted. Thomas did nothing because it was the path of least resistance.

  What had Noah unable to sleep was the question Oscar had asked him, one that he’d never thought about before. Why had the police officer who had escorted him out of the school stopped to congratulate Paul? The obvious answer was that the police officer was full of himself and was grandstanding, trying to seem important. But why would he do that to Noah? This was the same police officer who ran assemblies on bullying and showed the horrendous videos about the dangers of drinking and driving. Did he have some sort of personality disorder that allowed him to be two completely different people, one concerned and helpful and the other spiteful and vindictive?

  There was the issue of why Paul hadn’t told anyone that Noah was gay, that he only had sex with men. And then there was the issue that rape was about power and violence; when had Noah ever exhibited either of those qualities? Noah had always had the power or the control over what happened in his classroom. If anyone was going to be accused of trying to exert power and control, it should have been Skyler. Was it Paul’s way of eliminating an unwanted complication? A complication who knew his secret? Paul had
said he wasn’t gay and that he’d never lied to Noah, but he had. Was Paul just covering his own ass? Or had he just been ignorant of what to do in such a situation? And then there were those words Paul had spoken twice: things aren’t always what they seem. What was Paul trying to tell him with those words? Was Paul not the one who reported it to the police? No, Noah thought as he got out of bed to get something to drink; Paul had admitted to reporting him. So then why did he report Noah, especially knowing that Noah couldn’t have done it? When Noah found himself going in circles, wondering if the police officer might have convinced Paul to report Noah anyway, he sighed with frustration and climbed back under the sheets.

  He huddled close to Oscar’s warm body, realizing only now how cold he’d gotten by pacing up and down the room for the past two hours, and closed his eyes. He tried to make his mind a blank, but Oscar’s scent and warm skin only served to fill his mind with images of a different sort. It was a heady feeling for Noah, this feeling of security, of being protected. Noah had become accustomed to looking out for himself, to listening to that little voice in the back of his head that told him that it wasn’t wise to trust anyone new.

  As his breathing slowed, Noah thought about how glad he was that he’d decided to ignore that little voice. He’d ignored it and trusted Oscar, and now he only listened to the voice telling him that Oscar would never do anything to hurt him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  NOAH nervously, compulsively checked his duffle bag one last time, ensuring he had everything he would need for an entire weekend at Oscar’s house. And it wasn’t just any weekend; it would be their one-month anniversary. There would be no show this Saturday due to Aiden’s most recent liaison with a rather rich banker. Aiden was rather tight-lipped about the whole affair, but Noah could tell that his friend might just have found The One. Aiden wasn’t a gold-digger, Noah knew, but as Aiden always pontificated, “I’m not looking for a rich husband, but I won’t turn one away, either.” And there were other signs, as well. Noah had noticed over the last two weeks that his best friend was distracted. No, not distracted, but moony. Where Aiden was usually as sharp as a tack and never missed anything that was going on around him, this moony Aiden seemed far too content to let comments and injustices pass him by. With a wave of his hand, Aiden dismissed Noah’s observations regarding this change of personality—and alertness—explaining that he was mellowing and maturing with age.