by Dale Chase
He let out a little cry and I knew his hand had flown to his chest. I could see him standing in the kitchen, playing the wounded scene. “I’m sorry, Reece. It would be best that you not call again.”
I ended the call before he could say more, then I returned outside and took up the shears to continue trimming ivy.
* * * *
“Do you like this wall color?” I asked Glenn a week or so later. We were seated on the living room sofa, enjoying a glass of wine in the late afternoon. “I’m tired of eggshell white.”
He looked around and shrugged. “Works for me, but if you want a change, let’s do it.”
Trips to the hardware store got us color swatches, then cans of test paint, until we’d settled on a soft gold for the living room, pale gray for the dining. We stopped at those two rooms, deciding not to wear ourselves out doing the whole house. Glenn seemed to thrive at painting, while I was merely competent. Together, we brought the living room alive and proudly viewed our finished work.
It was while doing the dining room that Glenn sought the second gallon of gray paint from the garage. I waited near the drop-cloth-covered table for him to return, and when he didn’t, I went in search.
I found him in the garage, holding the photo album I’d salvaged from his house.
He didn’t have it open, just stood holding it, his expression dark. I immediately saw I’d made a mistake.
“I thought you’d want it someday. That you might regret discarding it. I was trying to help.”
When he said nothing I kept on.
“I’m sorry. I’ll get rid of it.”
I reached for the album, but he pulled it back. His expression remained fixed, as if steeling himself against an awful weight, the album some kind of anchor. I wanted to be patient, but his silence did me in.
“What’s the hold these people have on you?” I demanded. “They’re just pictures. Throw them out and be done with it.”
He shook his head as I spoke and I felt an awful falling sensation, everything between us crumbling because of a damned photo album.
“Please, Glenn, what can I do? Say something.”
He turned, went inside to get his keys, album still in hand, got into his truck, and drove away.
I walked down the driveway and stood at its end long after he’d gone, having no idea what to do next. Get in my car and chase after him? Wait him out, certain he’d return full of apologies for his foolish action? As the falling sensation continued, my stomach seizing in an effort to stop the descent, I heard my name called.
Looking up the street, I saw Reece walking toward me.
“I thought he’d never leave,” he said as he approached, somewhat winded.
I couldn’t speak. This seemed almost surreal, and I looked around, fearing I was caught in some prank film. But no, there were no cameras. It was just the two of us, and he grabbed me, pulled me to him in a mighty embrace, to which I didn’t respond.
“I couldn’t bear being without you,” he said when he released me. “I’m a wreck, Noah, a wreck. What you see before you is a lost human being bereft of all happiness. You are my life and I’ve come to bring you home.”
“How?” There was more to the question, but all I managed was the one word.
He laughed. “See that white car up the street, the BMW? I’ve been staking out your house. I flew up two days ago, rented the car, and have been waiting for you to be alone. He doesn’t go out much, does he?”
I couldn’t respond. It was absurd, but it was so very Reece, placing himself center stage in a saga of his own creation.
“What is he?” he asked. “House painter? Carpenter? Roustabout? Quite a rebound, dear, going from elegant to grunge.”
I started into the house without comment, Reece following. It didn’t matter he’d not been invited. He always considered himself welcome everywhere, a grand addition to any scene.
I went to the kitchen and stood at the sink, drinking water, while he roamed the house. I didn’t care about stopping him. I cared only about sending him on his way, but what then? Settle in to wait for Glenn’s return?
I found Reece in the bedroom, looking out the window at the back yard. “No pool,” he said. “I couldn’t live without a pool.”
“Some of us can.”
He turned and we passed a long moment on opposite sides of the bed before he let his gaze descend in what could have been a scripted move. “You always make the bed,” he said. “I find that charming.”
“Reece, this is a mistake. You shouldn’t have come. I told you, I’m in a relationship and am quite happy.” The irony of my statement wasn’t lost on me, prompting me to suggest we retire to the patio.
When I fetched the pitcher of lemonade, he asked for something stronger, “considering the situation.” I noted how deftly he was ignoring what I’d said.
I opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses, deciding I needed it as much as he did, then led him to the patio.
“You look good,” he said after downing half his wine. “The suburbs seem to agree with you, or is it the ruffian sharing your bed? He’s good-looking, I’ll give you that, well built. Well hung, I suppose.”
I refused to bite, taking a few gulps of wine instead.
“We had good years, Noah, you can’t deny that, and I was insane to take up with Tracy, truly insane, but you did wrong in running away, so we both made mistakes. Sooner or later it all would have collapsed with Tracy, and we’d have been all that much stronger, don’t you see? He was a foolish interlude and I’m much the wiser for it. I love you, Noah, as I’ve loved no other. You are my life. I can’t continue without you, which is why I’m here. It had to be said in person. Please come home with me.”
I shut my eyes. It was all so wearing, first Glenn, now Reece. I thought back to when the house was mine alone. Unencumbered. Free of emotional tangles. Now here I was, twice tangled. I had two choices: wait for Glenn’s return, which could be an agony, or run off with a man who had tossed me aside in favor of a younger version. Neither had much appeal, so I drank my wine and kept silent.
Thankfully, Reece didn’t press. He got up and toured the garden, settling onto the colorful futon under the pergola. I stayed on the patio, watching him stretch out and kick off his shoes. When he raised his glass to me, I raised mine to him, then drank the rest of it.
Pouring a second glass was probably not wise, but I did. As the first began to take hold, I enjoyed the familiar loosening, the second adding to the sensation. I watched as Reece undid his pants, got out his dick, and lay stroking it. I thought of Glenn as I rose and started toward the pergola, Glenn who’d run away from essentially nothing, Glenn who had himself locked inside a past to which I wasn’t privy. He could be far away by now, maybe headed back to Seattle, who knew? Or was he at some landfill, tearing the album to bits, scattering the last of his past?
Reece was hard when I reached him. He’d set his glass on the little side table, and with his free hand, beckoned me to him. He looked good, I’ll give him that. I’d not have known he’d spent two days in his car waiting for me to be alone. His royal blue shirt accented his ruddy coloring, made his gray hair shine, while his stubble made him seem more accessible. He moved his hips as he stroked himself, inviting me to climb on for a ride. While my mind considered the offer, my dick had already accepted, hard now, eager to get free.
“You know you want to,” said Reece in his best actor tone. I did love that voice.
I drained my glass, dropped pants and shorts, then realized we needed protection. I’d gotten used to going without, Glenn telling me he’d been tested after he’d left Dave, but now here was half of Hollywood embodied in one man. “Protection,” I said.
Reece grinned. He rolled over, found his pants, pulled a condom from his pocket, and suited up.
I had myself in hand now, eager to run away in the best possible manner. Fuck Glenn. Fuck Reece. Fuck life. I climbed on.
Sexually, it was a great ride, even if emotionally
otherwise. Alcohol and sex was a far better flight than Glenn’s driving away in a truck. As Reece pushed into me, I found the old rhythm, recalling how well we’d had it down, how in sync we were after years of practice. We managed an undulation of sorts, me riding great waves of him, savoring him inside me, the rise the only good thing about my life. Nothing else mattered now; his cock set me free. I worked myself frantically, needing to come so very badly, and when I let go, splattering spunk onto Reece’s shirt, I cried out, not caring if anyone heard, not even Mrs. Springer next door, who could be in her back yard with her little Bobby, head tilted to one side, wondering what kind of bird was screeching.
Reece’s mouth opened as it usually did when he came and he bucked up at me with each spurt, causing me to clench my ass muscles in return. He loved that, always said it added to his pleasure, and I wanted all he had, all I had. Fuck the world. I was happy.
When he was done and gasping for breath, I slid off and lay beside him. Once we’d regained ourselves, we sought our wineglasses, finishing them off.
“You are the best,” Reece said. “The absolute best.”
I didn’t want to say anything because words would destroy the pleasure. I wanted to float away on satisfaction, the outer world diminished to irrelevance, nothing existing beyond the pergola, the futon.
Then Reece rolled over and kissed me so sweetly, so gently, that I found myself moved. It had been good all those years. I couldn’t deny it. I kissed him back, suddenly hungry for affection, and he proved generous. In time, I lay tucked into his arm, enjoying the day’s sweet warm air, the sound of birds above.
We may have dozed, I’m not sure, but I seemed to snap awake when I felt Reece’s mouth on my dick. He was looking up at me as he sucked and pulled, and I spread my legs to better accommodate him. We then spent a delicious interval of reacquainting ourselves with each other, in time shedding all our clothes, in time devouring each other.
It didn’t matter that Glenn might drive up at any minute. Only once during this extended play did that occur to me, and I pictured his shock, then his anger, as he came upon us, my cock in Reece’s mouth. I wondered what he’d do, but then Reece flipped me over and ran his fingers up my ass, erasing all conscious thought.
The day was fading when we finally came up for air. Reece had managed to get it up a second time, which he attributed to my expertise, and he’d taken me on my back because he said he wanted me to look up at him as I so often had in the past. I knew it the actor wishing to be onstage, but it was part of him and fitting. It took him a good while to work up a come, but he managed, leaving himself drained.
When we rolled off the futon, he staggered about, laughing that I’d taken the best of him. “More wine,” he said.
I opened a second bottle, determined to stay looped because I liked not being responsible for my actions. Naked in the kitchen, we stood toasting the day and ourselves.
“Here’s to fucking,” Reece declared, clinking his glass to mine, then adding, “Here’s to fucking the man I love.”
I didn’t protest his declaration. I had been abandoned, after all, and with no idea for how long. Permanently? Would Glenn show up long enough to pack his truck? “Here’s to fucking,” I repeated. “And here’s to knowing each other so well.”
And that was it. Reece had no secrets. Nothing was closed off in the man and I saw that a good thing, something I’d never before considered. I’d always known it, of course, but it had never meant much. He was an actor, he loved being the center of attention, dumping everything out for all to see. At present, I found this wonderfully refreshing. He’d never shut me out as Glenn had, blame me for trying to do something for him. Glenn might never fully open up to me. Whatever hold his family had on him was totally irrational and I was tired of it.
“Let’s shower,” I said to Reece, who giggled and followed me to the bathroom.
We played around as much as washed, enjoying slippery adventure and much laughter. We’d set our wineglasses just outside the shower and periodically opened the door to enjoy a drink.
By the time we got out and dried off, I was somewhat reeling, and so was he. Laughing, I led him to bed, the bed I shared with Glenn. We fell onto it in a happily tangled heap and slept.
* * * *
Next morning was the rudest of awakenings, my stomach in turmoil, head throbbing, everything compounded by discovering Reece beside me instead of Glenn. He lay on his back, snoring heavily, and it took some seconds for me to recall the previous day. Holy hell, what had I done?
I got to the bathroom and into the shower, which was no help. I tried to throw up, but couldn’t, my stomach deciding to torture me by refusing to give up its contents. I dressed, staggered to the kitchen, but couldn’t bear making coffee. I sipped water, still trying to fit together details of the day before.
Glenn. Where was Glenn? Oh, right, he’d taken off because I’d kept the album. And Reece…It came back gradually, how he’d showed up, how wine had led us to sex, and how I’d enjoyed myself. I was looking out the kitchen window when a naked Reece stumbled into the room.
“God, what day is it?” he asked. “I feel like shit.”
“Me, too. Do you want coffee?”
“I want to die.” He fell into a chair, crossed his arms on the table, and lowered his head onto them. He then began to issue a low moan. “How much did we drink?”
“Couple bottles, I think. Why don’t you get a shower? It helps,” I lied.
“In a minute. I have to die first.”
I had to chuckle. Reece lived in superlatives. But his presence did wake me, and I made coffee while he managed, along with more talk of dying, to hit the shower. I poured orange juice and made toast, knowing food could help ease the pain.
It was as I stared at the toaster that I realized this wasn’t my life. The wrong man had been in my bed; the wrong man was in my shower. What had I done? But Glenn hadn’t come home. Or had he? Was he somewhere in the house, squirreled away in silence, pouting at another man in his bed? I took a quick tour of the study and guest room, the second bathroom, even the garage, before confirming his absence. It felt odd to be glad he was away.
Reece came out dressed, a wet spot on his shirt front. “You can’t rinse come out of anything. It’s a permanent stain, but I’ll wear it as a badge of honor because it’s yours. Every time I look at it, I’ll recall you shooting onto me.”
We ate toast rather gingerly, drank juice and coffee, and after a bit, began to return to reality. As life’s complications came back, I thought about the prior day’s escape. If only one could stay escaped.
“What are you thinking?” Reece asked.
I hated that question, no matter who asked it. It had to be the most intrusive thing a person could say and I always marveled at how people would respond, being kind while usually lying. I decided on honesty. “I’m thinking about real life and how I don’t want to be there.”
“Then come with me and we’ll keep it out forever. I can do that, you know I can. Everything your heart desires, secure in my hilltop aerie, cared for, cosseted, loved, fucked.”
“You are tempting, Reece. You truly are.”
“Then seize it. Temptation isn’t a bad thing, it’s just gotten a bad rap. And this temptation is real. I’m real and I love you.”
I ate toast to avoid speaking further and I wished Glenn was here so I could remain strong and resist because I knew he was my life, not Reece. I wanted him so badly, while at the same time, hated him for running away.
“I can’t decide just like that, Reece. I’ve made a life here with someone I care deeply about.”
“Then why isn’t he here?”
“We had an argument.”
“And he stormed out? Must have been some argument.”
I could only shake my head. “Don’t put me on the spot. It would be best if you went back home. I promise I’ll consider your offer, but I have to sort things out here. I owe him that.”
“And what about me?
Doesn’t yesterday count for anything?”
“It does. Yes, of course it does. Before that, shutting you out was easy, but it’s changed now.”
“Then come with me.”
“It’s not changed that much. Please understand. It was your timing. You sort of ambushed me at a vulnerable point. Good as yesterday was, it’s not that real, not in a long-term way. I’m sorry.”
He looked down, issued a sigh, then pushed back from the table. “Very well,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll not beg. I’ll go home. I want you to know that I’m crushed because you made me think we’re one again, body and soul. You can’t deny yesterday, but if you insist, I’ll go. You have to promise, however, to give adequate consideration to my offer. I deserve that much.”
“I promise, Reece.” I stood and kissed him, then walked him out front. Nothing more was said, and I watched as he went up to his car, then drove away.
Back inside the house, I fell onto the sofa, savoring the quiet. At that moment I didn’t want any man.
I tried to sleep, but hangovers seldom allow such luxury. In time, I grew restless, so I began cleaning. Anything to occupy myself. Anything to make time pass. I vacuumed, dusted, mopped the kitchen floor, cleaned both bathrooms, so by nightfall a modest dinner in front of the TV was welcome. By the time I got into bed, I didn’t care that I was alone.
* * * *
Glenn arrived around nine the next morning. He came in the back door and I heard him pour coffee, then slide out a chair to sit. This I found sadly amusing. He’d come back only to abandon me again. I’d been on the sofa watching HGTV and I kept to the program, wondering which house the hunters would choose.
When he finally came into the living room, he flopped into a chair opposite me, but said nothing. I just looked at him, refusing to bite. The impasse lasted until he got up and went to shower.
As I listened to water running, I told myself one mistake need not wreck what we had, that our relationship was strong enough to handle whatever this was.