The Handyman's Dream (35 page)

The power of their love had enabled them to move far beyond the wounds and resentments of their past. They were already stronger, better men, as Hilda Penfield had predicted. Together, they were a force capable of creating enormous goodwill. Unfortunately, though, a great prejudice hung over them, and it was possible the potential of that goodwill would never be recognized.

Ed sighed. He would go to his grave with no understanding of why anyone would condemn a love so honest and genuine.

“Rick,” Ed asked, as another record fell into place on the turntable, “when you talked about a time when the world wouldn’t care about us anymore, did you really mean it? I mean, do you think that day will come, when you and I can live happily ever after without worrying what anybody thinks?”

Rick was staring into space, listening to the music from the stereo. "Get Together" by The Youngbloods was playing.

Ed nudged him. "Do you think that day might really happen?"

Rick blinked and turned to Ed. "I don't know, baby." He shrugged toward the stereo. "Maybe. People have been preaching peace and loving your brother like crazy since the sixties, but I don't know if us gay brothers will ever be included in that."

He shrugged again. "Maybe things will change for us someday." He smiled weakly. "I hope so."

.

Chapter Twenty-one

Early on St. Patrick’s Day morning, Ed stepped outside his back door and paused, amazed at the warmth in the air. The calendar still said winter, but spring was moving in, shoving Old Man Winter aside. He shrugged his shoulders, which felt wonderfully light without his usual bulky jacket. The bright sunlight made him squint a bit, and he was grateful for the sunglasses waiting in his truck.

Near the garage he noticed green shoots, which promised first daffodils, then later, tulips. He smiled. To notice them for the first time on the day for all things green seemed appropriate. He grabbed his snow shovel and stowed it on a hook in the garage, hoping that he wouldn’t be touching it again until later in the year.

Glad as Ed was to put away his shovel, he was still a little wistful to see winter come to an end. Despite the cold and the endless snow removal chores, spending the winter with Rick had been wonderful, semihibernating, getting to know one another better, and, Ed thought, falling even deeper in love than they’d been before the first snowflake fell.

His work had kept him busy enough to pay the bills and to add money to his Triple S fund, but he had also managed to have plenty of time for Rick and for dreaming about Rick. With warmer weather coming, Ed’s work would undoubtedly pick up; he already had five painting jobs scheduled, and he knew more would come. Chores and repairs that folks had put off all winter always seemed to become a priority when spring arrived, and Ed braced himself for a constantly ringing phone.

Not only that, Ed thought, as he backed his truck out of the garage, but spring meant an end to people cozily tucked away in their warm homes. People would open their windows and begin to move outside once again. Ed had felt through the winter that he and Rick were almost in hiding, keeping their growing relationship a secret inside the winter darkness. With everyone moving about freely again, would they take notice of the two men blissfully sharing their lives together at 427 East Coleman Street? The words of Rick’s mother and father still haunted Ed. He wanted nothing more than to share Rick’s love and companionship without worrying about community disapproval.

Ed rolled his window down, and the warm air blew against his face. He wondered if John and Vera’s visit would have any effect on their future plans. He hoped it wouldn’t, but he knew that Rick had been just as shaken as he that his mother felt they should move away before moving on with their relationship. He wistfully remembered telling Jett that Rick would be with them before the tulips bloomed. It was something he wanted with all of his heart, but he wanted it only if Rick could commit to it with no reservations.

Ed gave his head a good shake as he pulled up in front of Mrs. Heston’s house. Such gloomy thoughts on such a beautiful day! Nope, he was going to appreciate the warmth and the sunshine for what it was worth, and he had all day to look forward to seeing Rick in the evening. Ed and Rick were meeting Gordy downtown at the Cozy Hearth Café, which stayed open late every St. Paddy’s Day to serve their corned beef special. Despite Rick’s earlier jealousy pangs, the three were beginning to enjoy a warm friendship.

Ed managed to keep the darker thoughts at bay throughout the day and felt downright festive when he met Rick and Gordy that evening. They were both laughing together over a screwup Jim Murkland had made earlier in the day, bringing the wrath of Don Hoffmeyer on him. Ed was glad to hear that Murk the Jerk was too busy covering his ass these days to make trouble for anyone.

“What goes around, comes around,” he remarked as their drinks arrived at the table.

“Ah, where’s the green beer when you need it?” Gordy asked sadly, observing his glass of Pepsi. The Cozy Hearth didn’t serve anything stronger. “What’s St. Paddy’s Day without hoisting a few, huh?”

Ed glanced around the crowded restaurant. Few genuine Irish lived in Porterfield, but apparently plenty of folks had decided to pretend for the day.

“Well, if you want,” Ed said, “come by the house after we’re done here. I’ll give ya a beer with some green food coloring in it. I’m not sure, though, I’d like to see this crowd tanked up. I think we’re better off.”

Gordy almost choked on his soda pop. “Ya gotta point. Hell, half of ’em will probably be across the street at Buck’s before this night is over with. The streets of Porterfield won’t be safe tonight.”

“Then I’m glad I go to bed early,” Rick said. “Wasn’t it a great day, though? I swear, for the first time in months I didn’t walk that route hunched over from the cold.”

They all agreed Mother Nature had indeed been kind to them for St. Patrick’s Day.

“Here’s to spring,” Gordy proposed, holding up his glass.

They all clinked glasses and drank to spring.

“Course, it means I have to go through with my threat,” Gordy said, setting his glass aside. “I vowed when the weather warmed up I’d start jogging again. I’m gonna lose this gut or else.”

Rick watched Gordy reach for his cigarettes. “Now, that should be something to see,” he remarked as Gordy lit up.

“Hell, I’ll make sure I head by your house every night,” Gordy retorted, exhaling. “You can stand out there with a cup of water, like they do for marathon runners.”

“Yeah, and an ashtray,” Rick shot back, waving smoke away. “And a respirator. Shit, don’t you think you oughta give those up first?”

“One thing at a time, good buddy, one thing at a time,” Gordy said, relishing a deep drag.

Rick rolled his eyes at Ed, who smirked at him. Ed was learning that getting under Gordy’s thick skin wasn’t an easy thing to do.

“So what are you two gonna do with warm weather coming?” Gordy asked as their food was put before them.

Rick and Ed looked at each other and shrugged.

“Beats me,” Rick said, picking up his fork.

“I’ll probably be busier than shit with all the work people have put off all winter,” Ed said. “And I’m guessing Rick will be chasing after three kids with a bad case of spring fever.”

Rick groaned. “You’re probably right.”

Gordy stared at them, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed and said, “You guys need a break.”

Ed snorted. “You gonna give us one?”

Gordy leaned back expansively and smiled. “I just might be able to do that.”

Ed looked at him, puzzled and curious.

“Whatcha got in mind, Gordy?” Rick asked. “You got a time-share in the Bahamas we don’t know about?”

“Nope. Something even better. A cabin in the woods.”

“Huh?” Ed asked, food temporarily forgotten. “What cabin?”

“Well, it’s my dad’s, actually,” Gordy said, forking up corned beef. “It’s just a little three-room place on a small lake, across the line in Michigan. He uses it for fishing trips, and to get away from my mom, although you didn’t hear me say that. Kitchen, living room, bedroom—it’s pretty basic, but there’s a great fireplace, and plenty of wood to keep it going.”

“How ’bout indoor facilities?” Rick asked with narrowed eyes.

“Hell, yes, Benton, you can pee indoors! You don’t have to worry about waving your dick at some damned tree.” Gordy laughed at his own wit. “Anyway, it’s out in the middle of nowhere, and I mean nowhere. Nothing but woods and water, ’cause those damned real estate developers haven’t found it yet. I just wish I had someone to take up there. Thing is, it’d be perfect for you two. Give you a chance to relax before the shit hits the fan, so to speak.”

Ed looked over at Rick. “You know, I’ve never been with you in front of a roaring fire.”

“That’s ’cause we make our own fire, baby.”

“Listen to him.” Gordy snorted. “Seriously, though, it’d be great. Rick here can get away from the kids and the post office, and, Ed, you could have a weekend without hearing from every old lady in town. This time of year no one would be around, and you two could probably do it out in the woods for all anyone cared.”

Ed flashed back to his thoughts of earlier in the day. “You have to admit, Rick, that being alone, I mean really alone, sounds pretty good. Once I settle in with all those painting jobs I have, I won’t have any time for fun, and even if I do, I’ll smell like paint thinner. I think it sounds great.”

Rick looked dubious. “Are you sure it’s okay for us to use it?”

“Sure! I’ve got a key for when I want to go up there, and since the ice is gone, Dad won’t be back there till Memorial Day. He’s been up there with his buddies off and on all winter for ice fishing, so the wood box’ll be full and the place will be aired out. Oh, you may stumble over a few empties, but other than that, it should be fine. Bring your own blankets, though. Knowing my dad, the beds are probably down to bare mattresses.”

Rick sighed. “I just had a Saturday off. I’m not due for a whole weekend off for another month.”

“Aw, geez,” Gordy protested. “With you being Don’s pet, do you think he’s really gonna holler if you ask for a weekend off again this month? Even if he does, I’ll take your route. Hell, I’d love to get outside again. Be a great way to get some exercise. Now, can you think of any other objections?”

Rick looked at Ed, whose eyes were already bright with anticipation.

“Well, if you don’t talk me into it, Ed will. And you’re right, baby, it would be nice to get away somewhere quiet together. If I can work out something with Don, then sign me up.”

* * * * *

The details were hammered out over the next few days. Don graciously agreed to Rick taking off the last weekend in March, and Ed managed to stall the first of his painting jobs until early April.

The weekend prior to their getaway was spent in the usual way at Ed’s house, and talk naturally turned to the following weekend.

“Remember that Saturday in December when you said we’d go away some Saturday to a place neither one of us had been?” Ed asked Rick, putting records on the stereo.

Rick was stretched out on the sofa, Jett purring on his chest. “Yeah, I remember, baby. I hope this is just the first dream we talked about that day to come true.”

“Do you know what today is?” Ed asked, as “Come Saturday Morning” began to play.

Rick scratched his head, doing his best to look mystified. “Gee, I don’t know. Did I forget someone’s birthday?”

Ed tickled him. “It’s the first day of spring, you dork.”

Rick pushed his hand away, giggling. “Watch it. You’ll upset the cat. I know it is, baby. I’ve been thinking about it all week. Do you s’pose, next weekend, maybe we can take a break from making nonstop love in the woods long enough to talk about a few things?”

Ed’s bright smile was Rick’s answer. “I’d like that. I’ve got some things to tell you about.”

Rick’s mystified look was now genuine. “What things?”

Ed lifted Jett to his usual perch in the window. He crawled on top of Rick, holding him close, kissing him.

“Oh, I’ve been doing some thinking and planning of my own over the winter. Next weekend is a perfect time to share it with you. We’ll be all alone, living one of our dreams, thanks to Gordy. And we can talk about the next ones that need to come true.”

Rick kissed him back, sighing happily. “I’m all for that.” His arms went around Ed, and the two men held each other tightly. “Speaking of remembering things, I’ve been remembering the first time I told you I loved you, right here on this very piece of furniture. I remember thinking that it was way too soon, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I told myself I’d have to wait a lot longer to start thinking of you as my lover or my husband. I’d have to wait until I knew for sure what I was thinking was right, that we’d be together forever.”

Rick smiled at him a little sadly. “Thing is, baby, so many people, gay or straight, say ‘forever’ and it doesn’t work out that way. I thought that night I’d be lovin’ you forever, but I wanted to know for sure first. You understand?”

Ed nodded.

“I think I know all I need to know, Ed. So, yeah, next weekend I’m ready to start talking about forever with you.”

Ed buried his face in Rick’s neck, telling himself not to cry. He couldn’t get over how many happy tears he had shed in the past five months—certainly more than had fallen from his eyes in the whole twenty-eight previous years.

Rick lifted Ed’s head for a kiss, warm and tender special in place. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby. That just shows me you’re as happy and excited as I am. It also lets me know I’ve found the right guy, okay?”

“One Man Band” began to play on the stereo. Rick laughed, hugging him.

“You’ve made your one-man band so very happy,” he said. “Ya know what? If we ever get crazy enough to stand up in front of our friends and families and make vows to each other, I want this song playing. I’m sure we’re not what the guys who wrote it had in mind, but there’s so much joy in the lyrics and the music. It makes me want to shout and dance, the same way loving you does.”

Ed smiled, wiping his eyes. “Are you saying, after all the sappy, slow love songs we’ve been playing for each other all this time, you want our song to be a noisy, upbeat rock number?”

Rick nodded. “Definitely. Because there is nothing slow or sappy about my feelings for you. The joy I feel being with you is noisy, upbeat, and something worth shouting about, like they shout in the song: ‘I just wanna be / I just wanna be / Your one man band.’”

Rick rolled out from under Ed, jumping to his feet. “‘Ain’t no two ways about it. / I just got to shout.’ And I will, baby, next weekend. When we’re all alone on that lake, I’ll shout it to the goddamned heavens.”