Let It Beatle Box Set - 7 Gay Romance Stories

by J. D. Walker

  “Yeah.” He set plates and cutlery on the table and I went to the sink to wash my hands.

  “Beer?” he asked and I nodded. When everything was ready, we both got down to the business of eating.

  One bite and I was in heaven. “This is really good, man.” He nodded as if to say, “Yeah, I know, so what?” I ate some more, then asked, “Where’d you work?”

  “Doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago.” Geez.

  I set aside my fork. “Look, Murphy. I’m not asking to be your best friend or anything. Just a bit of conversation. Is it so hard to share a little of yourself with another person?”

  He sipped his beer. “I don’t see the point. I’m here for a short period of time. It would be a wasted effort.” That told me, didn’t it?

  “I’m sorry you feel that way.” I finished my meal in silence, and got up. “Thanks for the grub. I’ll clean up.”

  He quickly stood, too. “I can do that.”

  “I hear you, but it’s still my house. I’m sure you can find something solitary to do that doesn’t involve conversation or baring your soul.” That had come out a little snarkier than I intended, but there it was.

  I felt his eyes on me while I worked in the kitchen, and a few minutes later, he disappeared out the front door. Once I heard it close, I leaned against the sink and sighed. Was this a mistake, trying to force a man to take some human kindness? Maybe it was.

  The kitchen sparkled when I was done, then I went down the hall. Murphy hadn’t returned yet, and I was curious as to his habits. I looked into the bathroom he was using for the time being and everything was neat and tidy. He’d emptied the trash and cleaned the tub like he’d said. The door to his bedroom was open and I peeked inside. Nothing was out of place. The bed was neatly made and his saddlebags were stacked tidily in a corner. Somehow, the room looked forlorn.

  I went to my bathroom and took a quick shower. As I was walking back to my room, I heard the front door open and close. I paused before my bedroom door, if nothing else but to make sure that Murphy was safe and sound, whether he wanted me to care or not.

  Right before he entered his bedroom, I called out, “Good night, Murphy.”

  He swung his head around and stared at me for a few seconds before replying, “I did a lot of preliminary work for the deck today. If it’s dry tomorrow, I should be able to get it all done before I head back out on the road again. Good night.” He went into his room and shut the door.

  That was that.

  * * * *

  Murphy was as good as his word. The next day was dry and cold, and he started making preparations for the deck about the time I left for my daily walk. He didn’t pause to eat anything when I returned, but I made him a plate of eggs and potatoes and left that and a mug of coffee next to where he worked out back before I went to the bookstore.

  Since it was Tuesday, the daycare kids down the block had a two-hour read and play time scheduled. Gregory Wang, who ran the place and was a local, accompanied the toddlers with a few of the daycare workers and kept an eye on them as they got settled.

  Not five minutes later, Wheeler Ridley, the owner of our local gym, showed up in the store to hang out with his boyfriend. The whole town knew all about Wheeler and Gregory’s romance. I was happy things had worked out for them after months of chasing on Wheeler’s part, and dodging by Gregory. I was sure that Gregory had been hurt badly a long time ago and needed to learn to trust his heart again. A little like Murphy, maybe.

  Around two o’clock, I headed to the diner to have a tuna fish salad and iced tea. I’d need to brush my teeth so as not to scare away the customers before returning to work. Bertha, who ran the eatery, brought my food and drink on a tray, and water for herself, like she always did. She sat across from me in the booth. Things were slow right then.

  “Conner’s retiring,” she began, grabbing her glass to take a sip. Conner was the main cook.

  “What? Why?” I asked around a forkful of food.

  “One of his kids is sick in Michigan—cancer—and needs help with the grandkids. Says he’ll be leaving at the end of the week.” She sighed and drank more water. “He’s been here for years. I’m gonna need help, and fast. I can’t cook and run this place by myself for long. I don’t know anyone who’d be willing to work for barely above minimum wage.”

  I thought briefly of Murphy but figured that was a lost cause. “I don’t know what to tell you, Bertha. I guess you’d better start looking. At least it’s not so bad right now, since it’s the off season.”

  “Yeah.” We talked about how cold it was and what it would be like come spring when the tourists returned. While we spoke, I heard the familiar rumble of Murphy’s motorbike and looked out the window.

  His saddlebags weren’t there so at least I knew he wasn’t leaving town just yet. Maybe he needed supplies or something, borne out by the fact that he parked in front of the hardware store. I should have offered the use of my truck, if he needed it. It wasn’t that long a walk from my house to the bookstore.

  “Who’s that tall drink of water?” Bertha asked, echoing my impression of Murphy when I’d first laid eyes on him. I saw the feminine appreciation in her eyes as she looked him over and I felt a hint of possessiveness. Which was ridiculous, of course.

  “Drifter. Needed work, I gave him a couple jobs. Said he might be leaving town tomorrow.”

  “Pity.” Before she could say anything else, a few customers came into the diner. Bertha finished her water and got up to take care of business.

  I sat where I was, finishing my food and keeping an eye out for Murphy’s return. When he did, he had a small bag in one hand, which he stuck into his jacket pocket. Even with the scars on his face and the forbidding expression, Murphy was a beautiful man.

  Almost as if he knew I’d been watching him, Murphy lifted his eyes from what he was doing and stared straight at me where I sat by the window. He nodded once before mounting his bike. Before he could start it up and leave, however, he turned his head sharply to the left. Someone approached him. It was Leonard.

  Murphy slowly got off his bike, seemingly shocked at seeing his former friend in arms. A few seconds later, Leonard drew him into a hug, and Murphy returned it tightly, a wealth of emotion in that embrace as they both stood there, holding each other up.

  Not wanting to gawk at such a private moment, I finished my meal, paid and went back to work.

  * * * *

  That night, I stayed a little later at the bookstore, strangely reluctant to return home. I wasn’t sure what I’d find once I got there. I knew Murphy could take care of himself and make a meal if he was hungry. I was more concerned about his mental state.

  Around nine-thirty, as I was on my way home at last, I received a text. I waited until I parked in front of the house before checking my phone. It was from Murphy. He basically said that someone he’d met had invited him over for a drink and he wasn’t sure when he’d return.

  I was sure it was Leonard who’d made the offer of a nightcap. I sent back, okay. I went around the back of the house to view the work he’d done on the deck. There was a security light that came on when it sensed a presence. It was bright enough that I could see how hard he’d worked all day. He’d gone above and beyond.

  I went into the house and found he’d left a covered plate of food on the table. I heated it in the microwave while I took a quick shower and had some decaf coffee while I ate. I thought about the emotional embrace I’d witnessed earlier and hoped that something good would come out of Murphy seeing Leonard after all this time. At least now he had someone who might understand what he went through. I couldn’t offer that. I was just a piddling Samaritan, and not a very good one.

  I cleaned up, and before I went to bed, placed some cash in an envelope and wrote a note that said…

  I appreciate all the work you did for me. If you do leave in the morning, I just want to say thank you and I wish you the best in your journeys. Never think you’re not worthy of happiness.
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  I lay under the covers and stared through the window at a night lit with stars, lost in thought. As I was falling asleep around midnight, I heard the rumble of Murphy’s bike outside. At least he’d made it home safely, I thought as I drifted off to dream.

  * * * *

  The next morning as the sun came up over the horizon, I bent to pick up a star-shaped rock from the sand. I hadn’t seen one like that in a while. It would be a nice addition to my collection.

  As I turned it over in my hand, a voice behind me said, “You paid me too much.”

  I straightened and turned to see Murphy standing there, his eyes red and crusty. He must have just woken up and rushed out here.

  “No, I didn’t,” I countered. “It was payment due for work performed. Great work, I might add. Thank you.” I stuck the rock in my pocket and started walking again. He matched his stride to mine and we remained that way for a mile or so.

  “You leaving today?” I asked, keeping my tone deliberately casual. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied Murphy rubbing the back of his neck.

  “The guy I was with last night…Leonard…well, you probably saw us on the sidewalk yesterday.” Murphy took a deep breath. “We were in the army together, and he…Well, he asked me to stay a little longer and talk about stuff from…back then.” That was the most information about himself he’d given me, voluntarily, since he’d arrived in town.

  I stopped and faced him. “You sound hesitant about the whole thing.”

  He turned to study the waves. “I never thought I’d see anyone from my unit again, and the memories…they’re painful.”

  “He’s not forcing you to stay,” I ventured.

  “No. It’s me who’s…You know what? It doesn’t matter anyway.” He started walking away and I grabbed his arm to halt his progress.

  “Murphy.” He shook off my hand and averted his gaze. I tried again. “Look, whatever’s going on with you or may have happened to you, I think it would be good for you to talk to someone who might understand.”

  I walked around to face him, our bodies close together. “You need closure, man. I don’t know you well or claim to have much knowledge about human emotion, but you need to get the stuff festering inside you out and dealt with. You’re so walled off, no one can even talk to you, not really.” I stepped back. “Anyway, those are my thoughts. Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

  He fell into step with me again and we remained like that, silent and brooding for the remainder of our time on the beach. When we got back to the house, Murphy made breakfast while I showered and got ready for work. It was getting to be a habit.

  I sat down when the food was ready and noted the key I’d given him was next to my plate.

  He said, “I’ll be staying with Leonard while we…talk, I guess. I’m heading over there in a little while.”

  “Glad to hear it. If I don’t see you after this, it’s been…interesting knowing you. You’re a decent human being and any man or woman would be proud to have you as a friend. You need to know that.” I left him to mull over those words as I finished my meal.

  Later, after he’d gathered his belongings, Murphy and I stood out front by his bike. “This is a nice place to slow down, you know,” I said. “Hell, it’s winter and a difficult time to be out on the road. You can have a warm place to stay until spring.”

  I waved a hand toward the ocean. “I’ve lived here over ten years and never regretted it. I’m not the only transplant, either. It’s a place where you can leave your shit by the water and become something new. You never know what will happen, but it’s always good.”

  I held out a hand to shake his. “Take care, Murphy, and if I see you in town, I’ll say ‘hello.’ Feel free to stop by the store anytime, and you’ll always have a place to stay here, if you ever need one.”

  And to my dying day, I’ll never forget what Murphy did next. He pulled me close and hugged me to his hard body, a firm embrace that said “thank you” more loudly than words ever could. He quickly moved away, his face ruddy as he put on his helmet and goggles, then took off down the road.

  I hoped he would decide to stay.

  * * * *

  The rest of the week was busy at the bookstore. Friday, during the morning hours, I worked with Maury one on one, going over sales trends, upcoming hot releases, and basic management techniques.

  While having lunch at the diner, I glimpsed Murphy as he walked along the sidewalk with Leonard. They seemed to be deep in discussion about something and the set of Murphy’s shoulders was tense.

  I supposed it was a sign of some sort that he hadn’t left town. It could be only a matter of time, but there was something to be said for finding a place to bed down and stay warm in the middle of winter, like I’d said.

  * * * *

  “Austin?” a voice called.

  I looked up from the paperwork on my desk around four o’clock to see Maury standing before me. I kept the door to my office open most of the time and I hadn’t heard him come in.

  “It’s time for me to go. Remember I said I needed time off today?”

  Oh, right. “Sure. No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay? I had to say your name three times before you heard me.”

  Huh. “I’m fine. Go on, enjoy your afternoon with Tory.” They were having a birthday dinner together somewhere up the coast.

  Maury smiled. “Thanks, will do.”

  I left the office behind him and went up to the front. Shirley was the only one on the register at the moment and the line was long, so I went to assist her. By the time I closed up shop, I was tired.

  I decided to leave any paperwork for the morrow and left early, for once. Some days I felt my age, and today was one of those. The store didn’t open until eleven on Saturdays, so I’d have a little time to myself in the morning.

  When I arrived at my house, I was surprised to see Murphy’s bike out front. He was sitting on the steps leading up to the front door. He stood when I approached him.

  “Austin,” he began, shifting from one leg to the other as he tried and failed to hold my gaze.

  “Murphy. I see you’re still here.” I unlocked the door and led the way inside.

  “Yeah.” He sat at the kitchen table while I made coffee. I wasn’t really hungry. “Been talking to Leonard.”

  I set the cups on the table between us and sat. “Help any?”

  He tapped the side of his mug. “Maybe. It’s a start, anyway.” He drank some of the hot liquid. “I haven’t spoken to anyone about the army and stuff that happened there. Kind of drifted along, figuring nobody would understand. And what would it matter, anyway? I don’t have any kin or anybody close to…It’s been easier to roam and keep things at bay.”

  “But it hasn’t really helped, has it? Talking it out is probably better all around.” I sat back in my chair. “Leonard mentioned what happened with the explosion.” I held up a hand before he could say anything. “He wasn’t sure it was you when he told me. Just said you looked familiar and related the incident.”

  Murphy looked away. “You think a man’s weak when he lets things like that get to him?”

  I gaped at the strong, hurting man before me. “What? Are you mad? No!” I leaned forward. “Anyone, no matter how tough, would have problems dealing with something like that. You’re tougher than you think, Murphy. You’re still here in this world, though you’re in pain. Things could be better for you, you know?”

  He turned back to me and I was mesmerized by his piercing gaze. “My dad was a mean bastard. Mom left him when I was three, and my older brothers and I bore the brunt of his anger and disappointment with life until he died from a heart attack when I was thirteen. By this time, my elder siblings were adults. They were a bit like Dad, and I got the shit end of the stick most days. I was scrawny back then, and did most of the housework and cooking.

  “I had a growth spurt and filled out around sixteen, so they stopped messing with me. The min
ute I turned eighteen, I left home. I hadn’t done that well in school, but I had always been a hard worker. To keep food on the table, I took any job, no matter how menial. In my late twenties, I decided to join the army, figuring I’d at least be doing something worthwhile. And a few years in, while I was in Leonard’s unit, I watched Smithy get blown to bits, and something snapped inside me.

  “It was as if all the hurt in the world, all the pain was trapped in that moment, and I was powerless against it. Smithy was my friend—more than that. He was my lover, and to lose him like that, the one person who had ever accepted me no matter what I said or did or how grumpy I was…It was the last straw.”

  Dear God.

  Murphy gulped down the rest of his coffee. “I finished my tour and didn’t re-up. I’ve spent my life since then going from state to state, trying to outrun the ache inside me, the despair. It haunts me, you know? I…” He shook his head and got up from the table. “I need some air.”

  I watched him leave through the front door and knew he was heading for the beach.

  * * * *

  When an hour had passed and Murphy hadn’t returned, I dressed for the weather and headed out to find him. His bike was still there but he was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t any wind and the stars were out as I walked the beach in search of him. I trod past the motel and glimpsed Tory and his boyfriend on a blanket close to the shoreline, laughing at something and warming themselves by a fire and in each other’s arms.

  I stopped at the spot where I normally rested in my morning walks. In the overhead streetlight, I could see Murphy sitting on a rock, his expression lost and tears running down his cheeks. I sat next to him and kept quiet, letting him be the one to break the silence, if he wanted to.

  “He was the only love I’ve ever known. It’s so hard to let him go,” he said, and started sobbing.

  I put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him to my side as he released all the grief and pain he’d held within for so many years. I’d never had a love like that in my life, someone that it would cause me pain to lose. At the age of fifty, that was depressing.