Surprise Delivery

by D. J. Jamison

  Casper stared at the empty slot of his calendar with a sense of panic. He always planned an elaborate, adventurous trip in Kage’s memory. Something big. He’d been scuba diving, surfing, mountain climbing. He’d visited Mexico, Hawaii and Switzerland. Usually he found a gorgeous person to fuck too. Not for Kage, obviously, but to remind himself that he was still alive — and to distract himself from his memories.

  He’d planned a trip to Alaska. He specifically remembered saving the web page for an extreme adventure tour company that promised glacier treks, sledding and more. But he couldn’t remember booking the trip, the flight, or the hotel. He usually did that a month or two before the trip, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why he’d forgotten.

  You were too busy with Eric.

  He’d been so focused on showing Eric a good time, on helping him see the world the way Kage had taught Casper to see it, that he’d let the anniversary trip slip his mind. His heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. Fuck, what did I do? What the fuck did I do?

  “Casper? You there?”

  He realized he hadn’t said anything in a long time. He cleared his throat. “I’m here, and everything’s fine.”

  “You always say that, but then you go on those trips alone. I worry about you, pulling away from people like you do. Maybe you should consider coming home for a weekend, grieving with the other people who loved Kage—”

  “I can’t,” he said quickly.

  He’d screwed up, but maybe he could book something last minute. It would cost a fortune if he did, and he hadn’t prepared at all. Generally, if he was doing something arduous, he trained for it, so he could actually, you know, dive or climb — whatever the case might be.

  Shit. How had he fucked this up so badly? Did Kage not matter enough, was he fading from Casper’s heart and mind?

  No.

  NO!

  He’d find a way to honor Kage, even if it was in Kansas. He’d figure out something. He’d gone skydiving tandem, but maybe he could go solo. Or he could drive down to Oklahoma for something. He didn’t need to fly across the globe and go somewhere exotic. Kage made the most of life without going anywhere at all. Somehow, he was able to make the simplest things seem exciting. He brightened every room simply by breathing.

  God, Casper missed him.

  “You do realize that Kage wanted more out of life than excitement,” his mother said hesitantly. “Don’t you? He loved it when you came home from medical school and told him all the brilliant things you were learning. It wasn’t all—”

  “Mom,” he said sharply. “I’m good. Really.”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  After they hung up, he stared at his calendar for a long time. Those blank white squares were screaming, You forgot me. But what was done was done.

  He’d let himself become distracted by Eric, but it wasn’t too late to fix this. He’d figure out a Plan B. He still loved Kage.

  If the thought of organizing some activity felt hollow this year, it was just his mother’s words and his regret for poor planning at work. Doing these things made him feel closer to Kage, made him remember the fun they’d had together.

  There was nothing empty about that. His heart was full — with Kage, and no one else.

  In the meantime, he was now running late for a date with Eric, and he was in no frame of mind to be anything but shitty company. Still, after showing up unannounced at the hospital that morning and tempting Eric into an inappropriate blow job in his office, he could hardly cancel the date they’d made days ago.

  He’d have to put on a good face and deal with his mixed feelings later.

  ***

  Eric spread out a blanket on the lawn, gesturing for Casper to take a seat for the “Theatre in the Park” performance of one of Shakespeare’s classics.

  “This is cozy,” Casper teased. “You’re not going all romantic on me, are you?”

  “We were cozier a few hours ago,” Eric pointed out, reminding Casper of the office quickie they’d had that morning. Despite the joke, he recognized Casper’s subtle warning for what it was. Anytime they came too close to real romance, the man shied away.

  The two of them had continued to take turns showing each other a “good time” over the summer, though Eric had given up his insecurity about being boring and had resolved to introduce Casper to forms of fun not related to a jolt of adrenaline. Hence, the theater in the park.

  So far, they’d gone bungee jumping, visited a climbing wall and gone off-roading (all courtesy of Casper), and they’d attended a wine tasting event, watched the fireworks show, and gone to an art fair (courtesy of Eric). Throw in a few bouts of spontaneous sex when Olivia was out, and they’d spent a lot of time together that summer.

  Their interests were different, but they had fun anyway — even if that fun was sometimes terrifying. Eric almost hadn’t made it through the bungee jumping. Only Casper’s sweet promises of sexual rewards had given him the courage to step off that platform, but he was glad he’d done it. Not only had he enjoyed three orgasms that night, but the fall had been exhilarating. He’d felt alive in a way he’d never experienced before, and for the first time, he’d understood why Casper was such an adrenaline junkie.

  Eric had put several feelers out to get a handle on what Casper wanted out of their friendship and gotten mixed signals. Casper said one thing, but his actions said another.

  If they were so casual, why did they text each other every day? Why was the sex so damn amazing? Why did Casper sometimes look at him as if he was awed by Eric’s presence in his life? His ex-husband had never looked at him that way, and they’d spent almost fifteen years together.

  Patience, Eric, he reminded himself. Give him time to figure it out.

  Eric opened the cooler he’d brought and pulled out a couple of beers. He handed one off to Casper, and then pulled out sandwiches. “Nothing fancy, just ham and swiss,” he said. “That okay?”

  Casper was easy-going, as usual. “Sure. You could have brought wine if you preferred, though.”

  Eric shrugged. “Beer is easier to manage—”

  A voice interrupted him. One he hadn’t heard in five years.

  “Eric? Wow, it is you.”

  Eric looked up, his heartbeat accelerating uncomfortably. His ex-husband, Perry, and his new partner Geoffrey stood beside them.

  “Perry, hi.”

  Eric scrambled to his feet, accepting Perry’s hug as gracefully as he could manage.

  Perry looked good. Maybe too slim. His cheekbones looked cut from glass, and the hollows of his eyes were pronounced. He smiled prettily and gestured to the sophisticated man at his side. “You remember Geoffrey, don’t you?”

  Eric nodded to Perry’s new husband politely. He was dressed sharply, in a sports coat even though they were in a park. Eric tried to forget that Geoffrey slept with Perry before they split up, but his stomach knotted up at the sight of him.

  “Who’s your friend?” Perry asked, glancing behind Eric to Casper, who got to his feet and extended a hand to shake.

  “This is Casper,” he said lamely as they shook hands, unsure how he should label Casper. Boyfriend? Date? Friend?

  “Just Casper?” Perry asked, sounding intrigued as he looked between them.

  Eric chuckled uncomfortably. “No, not just Casper.”

  “Dr. Casper Rollins,” Casper interjected. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Oh, another doctor,” Perry said. “Are you a workaholic too?”

  “Perry,” Geoffrey chastised, “be nice. They might need to save your life someday.”

  He and Perry laughed. Casper tucked his hands into his pockets, seemingly at ease while Eric felt old resentment rising.

  “Not all doctors are workaholics,” he said. “And unless you’re having a baby, you’re not likely to need Casper’s services.”

  “Oh, you’re in obstetrics?”

  “That’s right,” Casper said. “I have an office on Wiltshire Drive.”

  �
��And you two are ...?” Perry asked.

  Eric fumbled the question. “Uh, we’re just—”

  “Friends,” Casper interrupted. “I’ve been trying to teach Eric how to leave the office and have some fun.”

  Perry snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  ***

  As the play got started, Perry and Geoffrey moved on. They struck Casper as shallow, dropping a few art and theater names, as if he and Eric should be impressed, and going on far too long about the wildly popular party they’d held at their house the weekend before. He tried to be polite, though, aware that he’d been crappy company that day.

  He was rattled by the call from his mother and the realization he’d almost forgotten the anniversary of Kage’s death. His death felt much more recent than five years ago just now, and Casper was struggling to maintain a happy front for Eric.

  He should have canceled the date, but it would have felt wrong to cancel after sexing up Eric just a few hours ago. Eric would want to know what was wrong, and Casper didn’t have it in him to explain. Not when he was feeling so bruised and tender.

  Resolved to salvage the date, he sat down and unwrapped his sandwich, taking a large bite. Eric settled beside him, quiet as the play started. His sandwich sat untouched, and Casper nudged him.

  “You going to eat?”

  “I lost my appetite,” Eric said curtly. Casper only then became aware of just how tense Eric seemed.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  Eric barked a bitter laugh. “Yeah, Cas. Something’s wrong here.”

  Casper raised an eyebrow, lifting his beer to wash down the bite of sandwich. Clearing his throat, he thought back over the date to which exact thing might have upset Eric. He suspected it was labeling himself a friend before Eric could claim him as anything else. But he’d been pretty clear with Eric he didn’t want anything serious. Well, no. He’d been murky as hell, but Eric was a smart guy. He’d read between the lines.

  Hadn’t he?

  “Are you upset with me?” he asked.

  Eric sighed, leaning back on his arms and stretching his legs out before him. He looked for all the world like a guy enjoying some theater in the park. But his tight jaw gave away his unhappiness.

  “You’ve been weird and distant,” he said. “And now, seeing my ex and watching you joke around with him …”

  “Your ex?” Casper said, startled. Fuck, he’d known the name Perry sounded familiar.

  “Yes, Casper,” he said, his voice so calm it was scary. “You just had a laugh about my workaholic tendencies with my ex-husband. The man who used my work hours as an excuse to leave me for Geoffrey, by the way.”

  “Oh, shit,” Casper groaned so loud someone shushed him. He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry. I totally forgot your ex-husband’s name. I just thought he was a friend.”

  Eric relaxed a fraction. “I guess that’s better than you purposely humiliating me,” he muttered.

  Casper scooted closer, so they could speak quietly without disrupting the other audience members. The actors moved about the stage, speaking passionately, but Casper barely heard them.

  “I really am sorry.”

  Eric nodded once, but he wouldn’t look at Casper. He kept his eyes directed at the play, and after a few moments of being blatantly ignored, Casper went back to his beer. He couldn’t handle Eric’s silent reproach, though. He felt fucking guilty: for being an idiot, for embarrassing him in front of his ex-husband, for not being what Eric wanted or needed.

  “I’ve been out of sorts,” Casper admitted. “I have some personal shit going on, and my head’s a mess right now.”

  Eric finally looked at him. Those dark eyes looking at him so hard it felt as if they could see right through him.

  “What’s bothering you?” he asked.

  “I’d rather not go down that rabbit hole.”

  Eric frowned. “I’m not surprised you’d say that. You don’t open up much, and I think I know why, but I’m not sure how long I can keep doing this.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Eric shrugged. “You’re afraid of feeling something real. You make dating into a game because you don’t want to take it seriously. Right?”

  Casper was at a loss for words. He’d never considered that Eric could so easily see his motives. Apparently, the only person he’d been fooling was himself.

  “I guess that’s not entirely wrong,” he said reluctantly.

  “The thing is, Cas, you either want to be with someone or you don’t. I’m not sure exactly what’s holding you back, and I’m trying to be patient. Because I do think we could have something real,” Eric said. “But I can’t make you want that. Only you can decide you’re ready to stop playing games.”

  “I’m sorry,” Casper said again, not sure what else he could say. “I’m not trying to … fuck with your head. My own head is fucked.”

  Eric smiled sadly, nudging his shoulder. “It is what it is,” he said. “I can’t be mad at you because you’re not on the same page as me. You feel what you feel. And you don’t have to make any decisions right now. This isn’t a breakup speech or anything.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’d just like you to think about what you really want,” Eric said.

  “Olivia’s baby will be here before you know it,” Casper said, grasping at straws. “You won’t have time for me anyway.”

  Eric shook his head, looking almost sorry for Casper. “Don’t do that. Don’t use Olivia and her baby as some kind of expiration date for this thing between us. If you want to be with me, we’ll find a way. If you don’t, then you need to be honest about that. With yourself and with me.”

  Eric lifted his beer bottle and tapped it against the one Casper had forgotten he was holding. “For now, just enjoy the show.”

  Right, as if Casper could concentrate on Shakespeare when his love life — love life, really? — was the real tragedy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  After crashing and burning with Eric, Casper went home and opened his laptop to figure out a plan for how to spend the anniversary of Kage’s death. Once he figured that out, his insides — twisted and writhing like snakes — should settle. He’d been taking the anniversary trips for the past three years. The first year after Kage’s death, he’d tried to ignore the date and live life as usual. Instead, he’d ended up so depressed he couldn’t get out of bed for three days. Celebrating Kage’s life was so much better than mourning his death.

  But he was still shaken by how he’d let the date sneak up on him, and the ramifications of the fact that he’d been so distracted by Eric.

  The sex was one thing. He could forgive himself for getting lost in their great physical chemistry. But he’d taken Eric to the top of buildings, diving into lakes and bungee jumping. He’d given Eric the spot that Kage used to hold beside him as they tried new things. He’d skinny dipped with Kage when they were eighteen. He’d jumped from a bridge with him and gotten drunk on schnapps on top of the high school building over the summer. They’d gone kayaking, sailing, snowboarding and more before Kage lost the physical ability. After that, they’d driven down winding mountain roads until they got lost, discovering new things along the way — secluded shops, an orchard ripe with apples, a stray mutt that Kage took home to his mother’s dismay. They ended up in a kite fighting festival, in a hotdog-eating contest — watching Kage swallow hot dogs whole shouldn’t have been so hot, but it totally was — and participated in just about every thrilling carnival ride invented: roller coasters were nothing; they’d once been strapped into seats that got sling-shot so high into the sky, it felt like flying. And falling.

  He’d never known anyone else like Kage — and he never would. Eric wasn’t at all like Kage, which is possibly how he’d begun to slip past Casper’s guard.

  Somehow, he found himself on Facebook, scrolling through old pictures of Kage. He didn’t look at all like Eric either. Kage was long, slim but wiry, with hair to his shoulders.

 
Casper hunched over his screen, putting a finger to the screen. Lightly, he traced Kage’s features: the arch of his brow, his high cheekbones, and soft lips. In a rush of memory, he remembered their first kiss.

  Kage had convinced Casper to sneak out, even though he was too thin and still recovering from his last round of chemo. He was seventeen years old, Casper’s best friend in the world, and his smile was irresistible. Casper was only beginning to grasp his attraction to a boy. He’d felt protective toward Kage since he got sick. He’d felt a strange tenderness, the urge to stroke his hair, to touch his face, but he’d been confused by it.

  Once outside, Kage had grabbed Casper’s hand and run across the backyard to the screen of the trees, laughing the whole time.

  “Are you sure you should be out here?” Casper had asked, taking in just how skeletal Kage looked.

  Kage grinned. “I’m not dead yet, man.”

  Casper had been shocked and horrified. “You’re not dying! Right?”

  Kage looked him in the eye. “Not today. Today, I plan to live. How about you, Ghost? You gonna live with me, or you gonna hide out doing homework?”

  Casper had a reputation for being a bookworm. He didn’t want Kage to see him that way.

  “I’m gonna live.”

  Kage looked at him with a gleam in his eye, and Casper became aware they were standing close together. So close their denim-clad legs brushed.

  “Good,” Kage said, “because there’s something new I want to try.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You up for new things?” he asked.

  “Yeah, man. You haven’t led me astray yet.”

  Kage shifted forward and pressed his lips to Casper’s. It shocked Casper, but he liked it. His confusing attraction rushed to the surface, and his body responded by flushing with heat.

  He raised his hands to Kage’s face, cupping his cheeks, and kissed him back.

  Now, staring at the pictures of Kage, he remembered him so clearly. The first kiss in the trees, the first touch, the first time they’d stripped each other and fumbled through hand jobs and blow jobs.