Authors: Alan Conway
“Yeah, but you sleep like the dead and it takes forever to wake you up, so I'll drive first.”
“We'll figure it out.”
I decide to let him finish watching TV then I go into the kitchen to find something to cook for dinner.
As the mundane happenings of our lives continue to flatten and fade, I'm left with a insatiable appetite for adventure.
C H A P T E R S E V E N
C
HANGES
Damon
It's ridiculously hot at the beach, but I like it. Brian comes back from the office with the keys and we take our things up to the seventh floor. I open the door and a coolness overtakes me, drawing me in. I cross the marble tile in the kitchen past the glossy granite countertops and the framed nautical watercolors on the walls and slide open the heavy balcony door. The vastness of the ocean stretches out to infinity. Seagulls sing as they glide by. The roaring surf dances around families walking the beach. A plane passes with a large banner that says "Fargo Bob's Buffet: All-You-Can-Eat Crab Legs" and I wonder who the hell is Fargo Bob and how he got that name, but I'm not interested in the crab legs. Brian puts a hand on my shoulder and says, “Quite a view, eh?”
I nod and brace the railing, leaning over to see the people lounging beside the pear-shaped pool down by the boardwalk.
“Wanna put on some shorts and head down? We'll unpack later.”
I say sure and take my stuff into the master bedroom. The bathroom is unlike anything I've ever seen. The shower is all tile with a large glass door and easily twice the size of our bathroom back home. There's even a place to sit, but I'm not sure why. I've never gotten so tired in the shower that I've had to sit down and rest, but maybe I'm completely wrong about that.
I unzip my suitcase and find a pair of boardshorts I bought last night. I rip the tag off with my teeth and see there's a mesh brief sewn inside the shorts, which pisses me off because the elastic will chafe my thighs and I can't have that. I tear it out and slip them on over my boxers for comfort because I'm on vacation at the beach and comfort is something that I won't sacrifice.
Brian and I take the elevator down and walk to the beach. I kick off my flip-flops, bury my toes in the warm white sand. I close my eyes. It feels so good I could almost bust a nut right here.
“So what do you and your parents do when you're down here?” I ask.
“I do this.”
“What?”
“Walk the beach. All day.”
“And your folks?”
“They usually sit around by the pool all day.”
“That's it? What a waste.”
“Well, sometimes we play games.”
“Like what?”
“Cornhole.”
“What's that?”
“You've never heard of cornhole? You throw bean bags into a… You know what I'm talking about.”
“Afraid not. What else?”
“A few days out of the week we'll go out to eat or to play putt-putt golf. Stuff like that.”
“Can we do that?”
“Sure.”
“Tonight?”
“If you want to.”
The cool tide comes in fast and I nearly lose my footing. It's fucking freezing. I don't say anything. I'm not going in there. I pull the drawstring tighter on my boardshorts.
“You losing weight?” Brian asks.
“Not as much as you.” He’s lost about forty pounds over the past few months. “I’m starting to lose my ass.”
“Looks fine to me,” he says, grinning that idiot grin.
I start humming the hook from “Can't Take My Eyes Off of You” and Brian joins in. We pass the remains of a massive sand castle melting away into the surf. The ocean sucks a red plastic pail from the beach but I grab it before it disappears. A child runs up to me with the matching shovel and I hand it to her. Her stubby digits fold over the handle and she smiles up at me with these huge blue eyes that pull a smile out of me, too. She plops down and doodles in the sand with her shovel.
“That's my good deed for the day,” I say.
Brian puts an arm around me. “Then you shall be rewarded.”
“And what do you consider a proper reward for my actions?”
“A cookie?”
“I'm trying to watch my fuckin figure,” I joke, patting my belly.
“How about this?” He turns me around and pulls me close for a kiss, but I stop him.
“Brian, not here.”
“Why not?”
“Because man, everyone's looking at us.”
He casually glances at the others standing and sitting along the water and I can tell I've deflated him a bit, but I say fuck it and steal a quick smooch without drawing too much attention. He looks relieved and I give him a wink just to seal the deal.
We walk back to the condo and unpack our things. I grab
Fatherhood for Dummies
and sit out on the balcony while Brian stays inside to call Lauren. He doesn't come out for a while so I turn around and peek in through the glass and I can see that he's pacing.
Lauren
“Brian, you're not listening to me. Don't get so worked up,” I tell him before he starts sweating it. The riots at the clinic in Texas have caused quite a mess but the media hasn't found out who we are yet. Carter is freaking out because of some kind of legal matter he won't discuss with me, but he assures me it wont affect our situation.
“What if we've been put on, Lauren? What it turns out he's a quack that'll run off with our money once–”
“
You
were the one who wanted Carter,” I say. “I'm fine, by the way.”
“Why are you so pissy? Have you taken your–”
“I said I'm fine. You're the one who needs to calm down. Relax, okay?”
Silence on the line. I have his attention. Finally.
“Listen, Adam thinks we should go public with this.”
“Is he out of his mind?”
“It would kill some of the mystique and we wouldn’t have to feel like we're part of a witch hunt.”
“I don't know.” I can almost see him pacing.
“How's the beach?”
“Fine. It's lovely.”
“How's Damon?”
“He's all right, I suppose. We might go out for dinner tonight.”
“Where are you going?”
“I'm not sure.”
“Are you going to be all right? I'm sorry, I–”
“I'm okay, really. It just shook me up. I'm stressed.”
“Enjoy your vacation, Brian. Give Damon my love, and I'll talk to you when you get back.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up. The baby kicks. Adam walks into the living room where I'm sitting on the edge of the sofa.
“You should have waited.”
“My bad, I know.”
“Have you thought about the arrangements once the baby's born?”
“Arrangements?”
Well, after that silly argument, I'm ready for a cry and a nap. Adam seems to think that we should have a talk with Brian and Damon to decide how we'll all take care of the baby. I feel a little stupid for not really thinking about this before, but a part of me knew this day would inevitably come.
Brian
The wind screams in my ears. The sea scuttles around my feet, seaweed clinging to my ankles. I’ve stood here every year wishing for what I have now, but now that I have it, I realize it’s not what I expected at all. Not to say that it’s bad. Self-doubt just has its way of slinking around the corner like a drunken vagrant, tugging at your shirt sleeve, whispering those sweet, sad songs. The low drone of the Fargo Bob plane snaps me out of my wandering thoughts.
But as sure as shit, we’ll pay for this one day. It’s just too good to be true without a little carnage poured in.
I’m with Damon at The Houndstooth, a surf shack dive within walking distance of our condo, but we have to wait almost two hours before we get a table. Once we squeeze through all the other sunburned tourists, the hostess seats us and I order a beer for each of us. I run my fingers along the hundreds of names etched into the table, taking note of one particularly odd moniker:
Norwood Nocktonic.
I laugh but I don’t consider it important enough to show Damon. He’s texting. Our server brings our beers, and I gulp down a good half of mine. Damon sips his and says, “We should open up a place back home.”
“Something like this?”
“Nothing like this. We should have a full-service gas station like the ones back in the fifties. You know what I’m talking about?”
“Yes.”
“Someone comes out wearing overalls and a smile and says ‘Well hello, miss. Fill her up with unleaded today?’ And then, while they’re getting gas, they can come inside and sit at a big ass bar with a soda fountain. I’ll be the soda jerk with the bow-tie. I’ll wear a bow-tie. I don’t give a shit how it looks because it’ll make us a shit ton of money.”
“That all sounds fine and dandy,” I say. I hope he’ll humor me for conversation’s sake. “How are we paying for this?”
“It’s just an idea, Brian. Besides, it might make for some steady income once the baby comes.”
“I actually want to talk to you about that.”
“Which part?”
“When I spoke to Lauren earlier, she said that Adam suggested we discuss the
arrangements.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Who’s keeping the baby, when, and for how long.”
Damon looks off in silence for a while.
“I know, I haven’t really thought about it either.” I finish my beer and wave the server down for a second round.
“Well, I guess we could…alternate. It sucks. I don’t want it to be that way.”
“It gets sticky, especially since Lauren and Adam have shacked up together. Not that I’m putting any blame on him. I’m just saying that whatever we decided to do, it will be our decision to make. Ours as in yours, mine, and Lauren’s.”
“Right on.”
A rush pounds at my temples. The soft flesh of my cheeks feel flush. “We’re not going to have any formal custody arrangements made in court, but–”
“Brian? You all right?”
I shrug it off because I think it's just the alcohol. Maybe it's my nerves. Or both. We eat in silence for the rest of the night. The band out on the patio is playing “Cheeseburger in Paradise” and I want to leave for some reason. I want to call Lauren but I'm not sure what I'll say once I'm on the line with her. Damon says, “Does your dad even know about all this? About us and the baby?”
I shake my head and consider this for the first time also. If Dad knew, I'm not sure what kind of explosive reaction I'd have to deal with. I don't need this. Not right now. I'm cold, my head is… my head…
“Brian, let's get out of here.”
I pay the bill and we start walking back to the condo. Cars on the main drag zip past us, drowning out my worries if only for brief, fleeting seconds. “I think you should tell him. Your dad. It's only fair.”
“It might be fair, but it'll be another problem for us to–”
Damon stops me. “Snap out of it, will ya? This shit's about to get real, so you need to grow a pair and deal with the consequences.”
“You sound like–”
“Your mother? Maybe so, but this affects me, too. We're about to have a
baby,
Brian. A child that needs a strong family to support it and we can't be one if we don't put all the cards on the table.”
I reel in a deep breath that tastes like the ocean.
“Come on, don't be a pussy. I'll go with you once we get back.”
“But Lauren–”
“We'll deal with the
arrangements
later, okay? Let's just take it one step at a time.” He smiles and squeezes my shoulder.
I agree reluctantly. Once we're back in the room, I turn my phone off and crawl into bed after swallowing a handful of Excedrin. Damon turns the volume down on the TV and watches some of sports highlights until I drift off.
C H A P T E R E I G H T
T
HE
A
RRIVAL
Brian
We get to my dad's at a quarter till one, allowing everyone enough time to get home from church. I hate telling him on the Lord's day that his oldest son is a dying queer.
His house is way out in the sticks – cell phone reception is nowhere to be had – and can be found on the outskirts of Cullman County past the Kaden Hills subdivision. I remember when the house was built. I believe I was in kindergarten. It was quite an upgrade from the single-wide with blue carpet we use to live in, but mother wanted something more suitable for a family even though I broke the mold when she had me.
The house looks nice. Dad's done a lot with it since he married Alice. There's a new matching garage and a paved driveway. It was gravel while I was growing up. I have several scars from graceless tumbles off the bicycle into that mess.
Dad is pressure-washing the vinyl siding just under the living room window. His hair and mustache have faded to white, and he's wearing glasses now. I notice the marbled composition pad jutting out of his back pocket, and I wonder what incredible project he's been cooking up in the garage. He doesn't hear us get out of the car. I ease into his field of view and give a little wave so I don't freak him out. He'll need to save his freak-out energy for later. He's gonna need it.
“Hey boy!” Dad says, switching off the machine.
I hug him. He smells like motor oil and peppermint. Damon offers his hand. Dad says hello, wipes his palm on his blue jeans, and takes Damon's hand.
“This is Damon, my roommate.”
“Nice to meet you. What're y'all out doin?”
Damon looks at me. I say, “Well, I haven't been around in a while, so I thought I'd drop by and see everyone.”
“I see. Glad you did. Y'all come in.”
Nick peeks through the blinds and waves at me. Dad sees me waving back at him and says, “He's been asking about you.”
We follow Dad into the house which has also changed a lot. New paint on the cabinets, new appliances, hardwood floors – I wonder if I could have recognized it in a photograph. Nick runs over to me and hugs my waist. Alice comes down the stairs, says hello.