The Handyman's Dream (7 page)

The domesticity of the evening probably had something to do with it as well, Ed thought. They weren’t sitting in some restaurant, awkwardly watching their words, being interrupted by a waiter. They were at home—Ed’s home, of course, but still at home—and it felt natural. This was one of the rare times Ed had experienced having a man he barely knew in his home, and it was also the first time he felt completely comfortable with the situation.

Dishes done, Rick joined Ed in the living room.

“This is nice, just hangin’ out,” Rick said, making himself comfortable on the sofa next to Ed. “I’m glad we decided to do this instead of going somewhere.”

“You still look a little tired to me. I may have to put you to bed early tonight.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” Rick said, one arm around Ed, the other hand tracing the stripes on Ed’s flannel shirt. He nodded to the stereo. “I’m sorry, but Elton’s got it wrong tonight. This Saturday night is alright for lovin’, not fightin’.”

Ed snuck one hand under Rick’s sweatshirt.

“Mmm, you like your men hairy, don’t you?” Rick untucked Ed’s flannel shirt and T-shirt and snuck in a hand of his own. “Me too! I can’t tell you how good you feel.”

“You can try.”

“The hell with talking. I’ll just show you!” Rick squeezed Ed underneath the shirts. Rick’s sigh sounded contented, but to Ed’s eyes he looked a little troubled.

“Is something wrong?” Ed asked.

Rick pursed his lips, looking at the ceiling, but didn’t say anything.

“If something’s bugging you, I wish you’d tell me.”

Rick shook his head. “No, nothing is wrong, really. I’m just wondering, though . . . Ed, what we did last night, is it okay with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Rick shifted on the sofa, taking his warm hand away from Ed’s chest. “Oh, the fact that we had barely met and I was dragging you off to bed. I feel a little bad about that. I just didn’t want you to feel that was the only reason I was here.”

“You didn’t exactly drag me.”

“I know. But I didn’t want you to think I was just one of those bar guys, looking for nothing but sex. I went there last night because I was lonely, and tired of being alone. I hadn’t counted on running into the cutest handyman in Porterfield, Indiana. I was so excited about meeting you, I couldn’t wait to spent some real time with you outside of that place. So what did I do the minute we got back here? Said ‘Let’s do it,’ and had your clothes off in no time! I really did want to get to know you, and still do. More than you know. But when we kissed last night . . .”

“Hey, I was there. I felt it, too.” Ed ran his hand in lazy circles across Rick’s chest. “I also seem to recall saying something about the fact that I wasn’t worried about you running off afterward. I wasn’t, and I’m still not worried.” He sighed. “I know what you mean, though. It’s so easy to just grab some guy and go for it. I’ve done that. But last night was different. And by the way, you didn’t say, ‘Let’s do it.’ You said, ‘Will you make love with me?’ There’s a big difference. If some other guy had said that, I probably would have laughed, but I knew you meant it. I knew our sharing that was just part of getting to know each other. I didn’t want to wait, and I don’t regret it.”

“Just a couple of horny guys doing what comes naturally,” Rick said lightly, then sighed. “Ed, I just wanted to be close to you so badly. I don’t remember a time I wanted to be with someone so much. Thing was, it wasn’t about the sex; it wasn’t about being horny. I just wanted to be with you, and I guess that’s how we’ve been programmed to respond to a desire like that. Get naked and do it.”

“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself,” Ed said tentatively. “Do you wish now that we had waited?”

Rick looked thoughtful for a moment. “I really don’t know. A part of me wishes that, yes, we’d waited awhile. I knew when we got back here last night that I’d be seeing you again, seeing you as often as you would let me. Then again, I feel so much more comfortable with you tonight, and I think part of that is because of what happened last night. I know how beautiful you are, in and out of your clothes. I don’t have to worry about whether we’d be okay together in bed. I know we are, and I’m looking forward to the next time, whether it’s tonight or . . . hell, whenever.”

Ed did some thinking of his own. “I think maybe all that waiting jazz is overrated. I think we get confused, trying to play by the straight rules, then trying to play by the gay rules. I felt a connection between us last night, and I was ready when you asked. I’ve been awfully lonely myself, you know.” He shrugged. “I’m just a simple handyman. I can’t figure it all out. I do know this, though. When it comes to tonight, the thing I’m most looking forward to is just being with you all night, knowing you don’t have to leave, and you don’t want to leave. Is that wrong, too? Should I send you home like Ann Marie used to do to Donald Hollinger on That Girl?”

Rick laughed. “I loved that show. I’m so queer!” He laughed again. “I always wondered about those two, if they ever did it. Oh, hell, I give up. What’s that old song, something about ‘if loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right?’”

“Well, I think he was singing about having an affair even though he was married, but I get your point,” Ed said, grinning at him. “I sure hope you stay, though. I’m feeling greedy. Now that I’ve got the mailman in my arms, I don’t want to waste any time I get.”

Rick looked at Ed, shaking his head. “I don’t have that kind of willpower. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the night.” His hand returned to Ed’s side, and he leaned over for a kiss.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are the best kisser in the whole world?” Ed asked him.

“No, baby, I’m the runner-up. You’re the best kisser in the whole world.”

“Maybe you don’t get good at it until you’re kissing someone you really want to kiss,” Ed murmured, “and I think it will be a very long time before I get tired of kissing you.”

“Me too, baby, me too,” Rick said, proving it.

The record ended on the stereo. The tonearm lifted off and silently glided to the side of the turntable.

“Do you want to hear something else?” Ed asked in the sudden silence.

Rick was about to answer, when he glanced at his watch. He shook his head in disbelief. “Do you realize that we have not even officially known each other for twenty-four hours yet?”

Ed grabbed Rick’s arm to look at his watch. “Aw, that can’t be. I feel like . . . like . . .”

“I know,” Rick said, kissing him again. “I gave up believing in magic when Bewitched went into reruns, but I think someone put a spell on us.”

“It must have been Uncle Arthur,” Ed replied, snickering. “I always thought he was a big fag.”

Rick roared with laughter. “Must have been,” he hollered. “Oh, but I sure am glad, baby.”

“Hey,” said Ed, still laughing. “You didn’t answer my question. More music?”

Rick shook his head. “No. I don’t need it. You were right about one thing, I really am tired. I’d love nothing more than to just go lie down and hold you next to me. I have a feeling I’ll sleep a lot better than I did this morning.”

“Well, don’t forget your contacts,” Ed teased him, “and those glasses in the car. I don’t want you tripping and falling over something in the night.”

Rick joined Ed in the bedroom a few minutes later, looking self-conscious about the glasses he was now wearing.

“Talk about male vanity! I don’t know what you’re upset about. You look just as good with glasses.” Ed reached up and traced the wire-rimmed frames. “Actually, they make you look even sexier, if that’s possible.”

Rick shrugged. “Those high school scars run deep. That’s all I can say.” He watched Ed take off his flannel shirt, then pull his T-shirt over his head. “You know, I meant what I said. We don’t have to—”

Ed put his hand over Rick’s mouth. “Stop worrying! Look, if something happens, it happens. Right now I am getting undressed to go to bed, to lie down with my new boyfriend, ’cause I want more than anything to go to sleep in his arms.” He took his hand away. “Is it okay I called you my boyfriend?”

Rick pulled Ed to him, stroking his bare back. “It’s an honor to be your boyfriend. Off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be right now.”

Rick undressed for bed, then they made themselves comfortable in Ed’s old creaky bed.

“I think it’s only fair to warn you,” Rick said, his face against Ed’s neck. “I snore.”

Ed rolled over to face Rick. “Now you tell me. Get the hell out! I’ve changed my mind.”

Rick smirked at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, thank God for that.” Ed kissed him.

They both laughed and settled down again. Now that he was lying down, Ed had to admit to himself that he was tired, too. The day had been long, with a lot of emotion. He was about to reach over and turn out the light when he felt Rick stir beside him.

“Good night, Ed. And thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“Yeah, thank you. For being my new boyfriend, too, and for just being you. Not only are you the cutest handyman in Porterfield, Indiana, but you’re the nicest as well.”

Ed looked at Rick and couldn’t believe how sweet and vulnerable he looked without any visual aid. Ed decided to keep that information to himself for the time being, though. “Good night, Rick. Thanks for being the nicest mailman in Porterfield, Indiana.”

Ed turned out the light. He lay down, and Rick’s arms enclosed him once again.

Ed had never been scared about living alone or sleeping alone. Weird noises in the night seldom bothered him, and he never worried about burglars. Just the same, falling quietly asleep in Rick’s arms, he felt safer in his own home than he ever had before.

Chapter Five

Ed carefully pulled the old comforter he used as a bedspread over the rest of the covers, making them even. It had been given to him by one of his clients, and the blue and white stripes were faded from age, but Ed loved it because it was, well, comforting. He couldn’t imagine having some perfect, designer spread you were afraid to sit on across his bed, as Glen did. Ed firmly believed that a bed, along with everything else in one’s house, should be as comfortable as possible.

He paused by the bed a moment, listening to the sounds of Rick making their breakfast in the kitchen. It was a weekend of firsts, all right. Ed had never had a man spend the night, and he certainly had never had a man eager to make breakfast for him.

Ed was a little ashamed to admit to himself that the few brief relationships he had experienced had been based on restaurant dinners, recreational activities, and a good deal of sexual satisfaction. No wonder his life had begun to seem so empty. He sent a quick prayer to the heavens for sending Rick to him, who had made it quite clear that he wanted their relationship to be deeper and stronger. Ed recalled one of his clients—a calm, thoughtful woman named Hilda Penfield—telling him once that life usually sent a person what he needed when he was ready for it. He thought he was ready for what seemed to be developing between Rick and himself, at least he hoped he was.

“Grub’s up!” Rick hollered from the kitchen.

Rick had carefully set the table with what passed as good china and flatware at Ed’s place, mostly castoffs from his mother. Last night’s roses were strategically placed in the middle of the table, but off to one side so the two men could see one another. A cup of steaming coffee sat by Rick’s plate, but for Ed, who’d never acquired a taste for the stuff, a glass of orange juice from the carton in the refrigerator waited.

“Wow!” he said in appreciation.

Rick looked bashfully pleased. “Well, I did the best I could. I guess I’ve been at Claire’s so long I’ve forgotten what it’s like to make a meal in a bachelor’s kitchen. And, baby, if I’m going to spend any more time around here, we’ve got to get you a coffeemaker. I don’t deal well with this instant stuff.”

Ed laughed, contemplating more Sunday mornings like this one. “I’ve never had to worry about it before. But I think I can track one down. Hell, I’ll even buy the coffee for it. This looks great. Thanks!”

Rick spooned eggs onto Ed’s plate. “Well, it’s not much, but I found some cheese to grate in the eggs. Even found a cheese grater, much to my surprise. Ed, don’t you cook here at all?”

Ed reached for his juice. “Oh, sometimes. The cheese grater is for when I make spaghetti. My mom brainwashed me into believing that parmesan out of a can is poison, and if the cheese isn’t fresh grated, it ruins the sauce. Her sauce, I should say. From scratch. If she found a jar of spaghetti sauce in my fridge, she’d probably throw it at me.”

“Your mom sounds like a real character,” Rick said, sitting down.

“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Ed said, tasting the eggs. “Oh, this is good! I can’t believe you pulled this together in my kitchen. Anyway, Mom takes great pride in her cooking. She has me over for at least one meal a week, then loads me down with leftovers, so I’m usually just finishing one batch when she dumps more on me. I had good intentions of becoming a better cook when I moved here, but with all her good food around, I’ve gotten lazy.”

Rick, buttering a piece of toast, chuckled. “I’m no chef, but I know my way around a stove. I got sick of the McDonald’s–Burger King routine when I was living alone, so I learned to how to feed myself. My mom, bless her heart, has many talents, but I wouldn’t call cooking one of them.”

“Well, this is really good,” Ed said, savoring eggs better than anything he’d ever scraped out of a skillet. “You can make breakfast for me anytime.”

“Then remind me to hit the grocery store before I come over here again.” Rick laughed.

“Did you sleep okay?” Ed asked.

“Not too bad. Did my snoring keep you awake?”

“Just a little bit,” Ed answered, not wanting to admit having someone else in bed with him might take some getting used to, even if it was Rick.

“I guess we’re even then,” Rick said. “Do you know you thrash around when you’re dreaming? You slapped me right across the head about four this morning.”

“I did? I’m sorry!”

Rick grinned at him. “I’ll live. I just wondered who you were mad at. Hope it wasn’t me.”

Ed thought for a moment, but none of last night’s dreams came back to him. “I know it wasn’t you. Probably one of my crabby clients.”

Rick wanted to know about his clients, so Ed described a few.

“I’m impressed,” Rick said. “You know, you really provide a great service for some of those old folks. They’re really lucky to have you.”

“It works both ways,” Ed said, pleased at Rick’s words. “I’m lucky to have them. They keep me out of that factory, and keep a roof over my head.”

After breakfast had been eaten, and the kitchen put to rights by Ed, he saw Rick glance at his watch. Ed’s stomach tightened. He knew Rick would have to leave at some point, but hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

Rick took Ed in his arms for a hug and sighed. “I guess I’m good for a couple of hours at least, if you want me hanging around. At some point I’m going to have to go home. The kids think I’m having a ‘sleepover’ with a friend, which they think is very neat, but I’ve got homework to check before tomorrow.”

“You check their homework?”

Rick chuckled evilly. “Oh, yes. It’s my way of getting revenge on Claire for making fun of me for being a bookworm in school. I never pass up an opportunity to make her look stupid. I have a long memory, and revenge is sometimes very sweet.”

“Aw, and here I just thought you were some kinda saint.”

“They don’t come any more human than me, baby,” Rick said, kissing him.

They settled on the sofa for more conversation.

“We can go somewhere if you like, but there’s not much to do in Porterfield on a Sunday afternoon,” Ed said apologetically.

“No, this is fine. It’ll be noisy when I get home, and tomorrow’s Monday, so I’m content to just sit here, getting to know you better, and maybe kissing you every five minutes or so.”

“Five minutes? Can’t you whittle that down a little bit?”

Rick heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Just became my boyfriend last night, and already he’s making demands on me. Shit!” He wearily pulled Ed to him for a lackluster kiss.

Ed pouted. “You can do better than that. I know you can.”

Rick smirked at him. “I know I can, but be careful what you wish for, baby. I could get you into all kinds of trouble this afternoon.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Ed said, smirking back at him.

By midafternoon Rick was looking at his watch every fifteen minutes, and Ed knew soon he’d be in the house alone.

Finally Rick not only looked at his watch, but stared at it, groaning. “Oh, I don’t want to go. But I have to, I really have to.” He looked at Ed with affection. “I’ve had a great time, baby, absolutely great. I can’t wait to do this again, but duty calls. If nothing else, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“You will?” Ed asked, puzzled.

“Of course! When I deliver your mail. I’m still your mailman, you know.”

“Oh,” Ed said, laughing. “I’d forgotten. That all seems like such a long time ago. Well then. I’ll make a point to be home around that time, okay?”

“Okay. That will give me a chance to see what disasters are brewing at home, and then maybe we can make some plans.” Rick looked carefully at Ed. “This whole thing I’ve got going, living at Claire’s, helping with the kids, does it bother you?”

Ed shook his head. “No. I think it’s great. When you told me that whole story the other night, I knew right away that you were a good guy. I don’t think very many people would do what you’re doing.”

Rick shrugged that off. “Maybe. Thing is, now that I have my very own handyman boyfriend, I intend to spend as much time with him as I can, when I can work it in, between checking homework, making peanut butter sandwiches, and playing Candy Land.”

“I’ll be here,” Ed said, smiling at him.

Rick grabbed him and pulled him across the sofa for a kiss that was anything but lackluster.

“Thanks, baby. I’ll make sure the cutest handyman in Porterfield, Indiana, gets as much attention as I can give him.”

After Rick left, Ed contemplated the nickname Rick had begun to use for him more frequently as the weekend had progressed. “Baby,” he mumbled to himself. Rick had first called him that Friday night, and by Sunday afternoon, it had almost entirely replaced “Ed.”

Ed, who’d never been called anything but Ed, Edward, or Eddie, wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. He certainly preferred it to jerk, asshole, or loser—all names thrown at him and the other unpopular kids in his school days. He also knew he liked it a lot better than fag, homo, or fairy—names he feared would be hurled at him from time to time. Still, even if he was rather puzzled at the idea of being someone’s baby, he knew Rick meant only the greatest of affection when he used it, and for that reason alone, Ed thought he was beginning to have a sneaking fondness for it.

He thought of all the songs he liked with the word baby in the title: “Baby Love,” “Baby, I Love You,” “Baby, I Love Your Way,” to name just three. If being Rick’s baby meant Rick was beginning to love him, then it was okay with Ed.

He wished he had something similar to use for Rick, but nothing came to mind. He’d never call Rick “honey.” He knew too many gay guys who called each other that. Ed’s brow furrowed as he tried to think of something appropriate, but he finally decided that if a term of endearment existed for how he felt about Rick, it would come to him, as Hilda Penfield would say, when he was ready for it.

* * * * *

Ed spent a busy Monday morning running from one small job to the next, but made it home by lunchtime. Since he was free for the afternoon, he decided to go back to the chore he had started exactly one week ago, raking leaves. Could it have been only a week ago, he thought, that he was plotting to meet the new mailman while raking leaves? He lightheartedly carried his rake to the front yard, amazed to think that the new mailman was now his new boyfriend.

Does Rick like me as much as I like him, or am I in a coma somewhere, dreaming this whole thing?

The day was cool, but no rain had fallen since Wednesday, so the leaves were light and easy to rake. Ed blessed a nice breeze blowing from west to east, making it even easier to rake them onto Grant Street for city pickup. Ed loved the smell of burning leaves, but the town council had outlawed leaf burning within the city limits. He felt vaguely cheated now each autumn. It didn’t seem fair to go to all that work, then not have a bonfire. He put on his work gloves, then settled in for a long afternoon of raking, pausing occasionally to see if Rick was coming.

Rick appeared a half hour later. Ed watched him approach, and was pleased he now knew what the mailman looked like without the uniform. Rick raised a hand in greeting, smiling as well.

They met at Ed’s front walk, and Ed found himself automatically reaching for Rick, but stopped, suddenly aware they were outside. Rick noticed and looked uneasy.

“Hi, Ed.”

Ed looked around, wondering if anyone was watching. The Hendricksons, next door, were a middle-aged, empty-nest couple who both worked full-time, but Mrs. Van Vleet, across the street, was probably home.The cranky old broad had never availed herself of Ed’s services, telling him once with a sniff that she had a son for that sort of thing. Considering how run-down Mrs. Van Vleet’s house was, Ed didn’t have too high an opinion of either her or her son.

“Can you come inside for a minute?” Ed asked, feeling as though curtains were being pulled back in every house on the street to watch them.

Rick nodded, then followed Ed up the front walk. Ed took one quick glance across the street, but then remembered that Mrs. Van Vleet would be glued to her tube, more interested in the small-town doings on As the World Turns than what was happening right outside.

Once inside, Rick dropped his mailbag and immediately grabbed Ed for a bear hug and a kiss. “Mmm, I’ve been looking forward to that all day.”

“You and me both,” Ed replied, kissing him again. “Any chance I might get to have an extra mail delivery tonight?”

Rick looked uncomfortable. “I kinda doubt it. I’m really sorry, baby, but this whole week is pretty much screwed for me with family stuff.” He shrugged helplessly. “How did I know before last Friday night I’d have better things to do? There’s a lot going on, and the kids are all excited about Halloween. I promised to take them trick or treating Friday night. The weekend is messed up, too. I have to work Saturday, and I promised Claire I’d stay home and watch the kids that night so she could go out with her girlfriends.”

“Oh.” Ed was disappointed. He didn’t know what to say.

“I promise to call you every night, though. And we can do something on Sunday. I have the whole day free, just for you, if you want me.” Rick looked as though he thought Ed would tell him not to bother.

Ed realized how guilty Rick felt. Ed gave him a reassuring smile and another kiss. “Sunday it is. That gives me something to look forward to all week.”