"Sure. Of course. Is everything okay?" Abel's forehead creased slightly with worry.
"Yep, I just have to go and deal with something." Nate kissed Abel softly before putting on his jacket. He looked back before he left, taking a mental picture of Abel sitting on the bed, looking a little happy and a little nervous. He looked like somebody waiting at an airport, not knowing exactly when the plane would arrive—hopeful and excited to be going away, but unmoored from his bearings.
*~*~*
Nate pushed open the rusty gate of the cemetery. The ground was spotted with crispy leaves and there was a slight chill in the air. He put his hands into his pockets and wrapped a red scarf around his neck, snuggling his face into its soft cotton. The whole cemetery was beautifully manicured, with neatly trimmed grass, bouquets of new flowers adorning the graves, and a beautiful water feature at the center of the resting places. There were benches dedicated to lost loved ones and some fruit trees that had little plaques with people's names on. It was a peaceful and reverent place; the air seemed to be filled with prayer and the light was somehow different there. Nate looked up at the sun and let its muted warmth touch his face. The slight chirping of birds drifted through the air.
Nate looked down at the tombstone in front of him, sunlight reflected and refracted off its smooth, polished marble. The engraving read, "Jennifer Goodyear, devoted wife, daughter, and friend." He swallowed down some rising emotion that lingered in his throat and sat down next to the marble block, messing around with some of the grass.
"Hi, Jen. I'm sorry that I haven't been here before. I thought about coming, a lot, but I just thought that it would be too hard. You know, in my head I can always convince myself that you're still around, and I knew that seeing you here would make it all real. And I didn't want that. I didn't really want to face that you weren't here anymore. I still don't. But I just wanted to come and tell you that I love you and I miss you and if you're somehow watching me from up above that I'm sorry I didn't come to the funeral. I just couldn't do it. I tried. Oh, God, I wish you were here. You'd know what to say. You always did."
Nate crossed his legs and sat in silence for a long time. He carefully traced the lettering of the inscription with his finger, helping him feel more connected to her. As the sun began to lower in the sky, Nate said goodbye to Jennifer and touched the cold marble for a final long moment. He turned around when he heard the gate squeak on its hinges. His heart skipped a beat when he saw his father walk through, followed by his Aunt Viola, who was bundled up in a purple coat and hat. Nate felt like the ground had opened up and like something had shifted inside of him.
Bernard's eyes flashed with recognition and he fastened the buttons on his coat intensely, like he was hooking armor around himself. He walked purposefully until he was a few footsteps away from Nate, Viola following at the rear. Nate and Bernard looked at each other for a moment before Viola jabbed Bernard with her elbow, forcing him into speech. "Hello, Nathaniel. Your mother got your message last night. It's good that Bailey's okay. He must have one hell of an internal navigation system." Bernard's voice was a low and slow and guttural grumble.
"Yeah, I can't tell you how scared I was. But he's fine. He heard us talking; he knows that Joshua left." Nate looked down at the ground and kicked an invisible piece of trash. He felt like crying, but he held his emotions inside, packaging them up in a tight little box.
"You know, last night I had had too much whiskey. And I meant a lot of what I said. But I never wanted to question your abilities as a father. Because I think you've done a really good job at that. I can't pretend that I understand what is happening with you and Abel, or that I agree with it. But I wanted you to know that I think you've raised a great son." Bernard looked off into the distance, not wanting to make eye contact with Nate. His gray eyes reflected the color of the cloud-swept sky. He buried his hands into his coat.
"We're here to see your sister, why don't you come with us?" Viola asked, putting her hand out for Nate to hold.
They all walked together to the small gravesite. They looked at it in silence for a long time, all of them lost in their own thoughts, trying to dredge up memories of the little girl that had left such a huge hole in their lives.
"I don't think I've ever been here," Nate said, surprising himself.
"We come quite a bit," Viola replied, patting Nate's arm.
"Where is Mom?"
"She finds it difficult to be here. It makes me feel closer to my daughter, but it makes your mother feel further away, I think," Bernard added his voice barely audible as he moved his weight around uncomfortably.
Nate hesitated for a second before reaching his hand out and resting it on his father's shoulder. Bernard stiffened under the contact but did not make any action to brush Nate's hand off. It was the most physical connection they had had since Nate was a child; it felt weird and ordinary, right and wrong all at the same time.
"Do you remember your sister?" Bernard asked.
"I don't know. I know what she looked like and sometimes I think I can call up her voice in my mind, but I don't know if that's because I remember her or because I've seen videos. I think I remember what it feels like to not have her more than to have her, if that makes any kind of sense." Nate kept his hand on his father's shoulder.
"That does make sense," Bernard replied gravely. The air grew cooler as the light from the sun grew a dusty pink and cast shadows over the cemetery. Nate shivered slightly.
"If this teaches you anything, it's to embrace the things that you have. To tell people how you feel. It's just so awful to think that life can be taken from you so quickly and you can go without grabbing onto the things that mean something." Viola sighed, pulling her coat over her body more tightly to protect her from the cold.
"You're right," Nate said. "I left Bailey with Abel, and it's been a while, so I should get back." Nate kissed Viola on the cheek and turned to head out of the cemetery. Before he could leave, Bernard grabbed his hand firmly, shocking him.
"I think we'll be okay," Bernard said under his breath, like he needed to hide the words.
"I hope so," Nate replied.
When Nate got back to Abel's, the moon was just beginning to emerge from its slumber. Nate could see Bailey and Abel curled up together on the rocking chair on the porch. Abel was reading from a book, and Bailey was laughing. The sight soothed Nate in a way that he hadn't experienced before; he felt instantly calm, like somebody had draped a curtain of peace around him. He wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye. He wanted to get on the ground and kiss it, to claim the moment when everything had worked out better than he could have ever imagined. The future had looked so bleak for a while, and now it was bathed in moonlight. He wouldn't have had the courage to ask the universe for what it had given him, to have had enough perspective to see that the fork in the road led to the right place rather than the wrong one.
Nate stood still; the area had a lilac glow, and he felt like everything might be okay. He had a son who wanted him to be happy and a man who, after such a short amount of time, wanted to build a life with him. It all seemed too much. Nate shook himself from his bliss and walked over to the porch.
"Hey, Dad. You were a long time, is everything okay?" Bailey asked.
"Of course, buddy. I just went to see your Aunt Jen, and then I saw Granddad Bernard," Nate said, smiling, and picked Bailey up from Abel's lap. His body was heavy from fatigue.
"Was he nice to you?" Bailey sounded concerned.
"He was. I think everything will be better now. Why are you so tired?" Nate rubbed his back soothingly.
"We've been building boats all day. It's a lot of lifting." Bailey yawned.
"Gosh, Abel must think you're pretty good to let you help him with the boat building. You must have a talent for it. Shall we get you to bed now before you pass out?" Nate rocked him gently.
"Can Abel come with us?" Bailey asked, barely capable of keeping his wide blue eyes open.
"Sure, if that's what you want," Nate replied.
The rocking chair squeaked in relief when Abel pulled his huge frame from it. He put his hand on the small of Nate's back and kissed the top of Bailey's curly blond head. "I'll come along, buddy."
Nate carried Bailey to his bedroom and Abel followed keeping his hand connected to Nate's body as if he was a life raft. Bailey snuggled against his blanket and held his hand up for Abel to hold. He had to wrap his hand around Abel's ring finger because his hand was too small to fit around the span of his palm.
"I am happy that you found Dad," Bailey whispered into the air, rubbing his face against the pillow dreamily.
"Not as glad as I am that I found you two. Goodnight, buddy."
"Your best buddy?"
"My absolute best." Abel tucked Bailey into a little bubble of soft cotton.
Nate rested against the doorframe and looked on at the tender moment; he felt a huge grin paint itself across his face. Abel closed the door and kissed Nate in the hallway languidly, like they had all the time in the world to kiss, like they would be kissing for years to come and should have been kissing throughout all time.
Nate rested back on the wall and inhaled deeply, stopping the romance chemicals running through his brain cells for a second. He reached his hand out and rested it in the space between Abel's pecs. "You know what we were talking about earlier?"
"Yeah, I was thinking about that and I didn't want to make you feel pressured. I didn't think before I spoke; I know how hard you have worked to feel independent. It's a lot to ask of you to leave the house you lived in for ten years and run straight into mine." Abel spoke quickly.
"No. I had a lot of time to think today. I realized that I just want to embrace the good things. It really shook me that Bailey knew I was unhappy before I did back in the city, that the thing I lost wasn't as strong as I thought it was. And I just want to hold onto you. I don't want to run away from happiness." Nate covered his face with his hands for a second, giving himself a moment to himself, creating a little space.
"So what are you saying?" Abel asked, stepping forward and pressing his body against Nate's.
"Umm, that if the offer is still open, then I want to live here, with you." Nate bit down on his bottom lip.
Abel picked Nate up and held him close in his big arms, searching for his mouth with his own. "I think this could be the start of something really great. I'm going to do everything that I can to make this perfect for us. I'm going to work every day to make you feel loved."
"You just always have to be honest with me. Whatever happens, whatever shit hits the fan, you can be truthful; I won't judge. I might rant and rave, but underneath all of that I will understand. We just need to keep this real. Because there's nothing I can't handle. That
we
can't handle," Nate said, pulling his hands though Abel's thick hair and rubbing his cheek against his spiky stubble.
"I promise," Abel whispered, his breath caressing Nate's skin.
*~*~*
Nate made some coffee and put some of the breakfast danishes on a plate. He inhaled the deep, rich scent of the coffee and let it warm him. Abel lay out on the settee, his body slightly crumpled because it was too large to fit. Nate put the food on the coffee table and wedged himself between Abel's broad chest and the back of the sofa. He put his hand on Abel's stomach and slid his fingers under his waistband, playing with the hair on his lower abdomen.
"Did you have any idea that you would be here when you came back home?" Abel asked, looking up to the ceiling, his face content, like he was experiencing a profound peace.
"To be honest, I was such a mess, I didn't even know whether I'd get home. Or even where home was. I can't believe that I actually drove through Main Street; I had spent my whole life terrified of it. I didn't really think that Dad would let me across the threshold. And then there was you," Nate said, kissing Abel's neck.
"Then there was me," Abel repeated dreamily, the skin of his neck growing warm under Nate's lips.
"Yep, and I kind of knew straight away that there was something there. And it scared me—in fact, it scared me more than I really wanted to admit. Somewhere deep down I just felt like you were the home that I thought that I had lost. That's why I ran away when you kissed me. I didn't know what else to do. It felt like too much all at once." Nate undid the top two buttons of Abel's shirt and kissed the thin patch of hair on Abel's chest.
"Yeah, the kiss. I can honestly tell you that I have had better moments than that. I thought I had blown it." Abel put his hand underneath Nate's chin and pulled his face upwards so he could kiss him. "I can't believe I wasted so much time not being able to hold you and kiss you and love you."
"But maybe we needed all the things that have happened to us so that we could find each other. Maybe we needed all of the bumps in the road so that we were strong enough to make this work. I don't think we wasted any time; I think we learnt from it, we needed it so we could give each other everything. I don't think I've ever given anyone all of me. And now I can do that. With you." Nate shifted his weight and rose to his feet; he cupped his hand inside of Abel's and pulled him up from the settee. Abel turned all of the lights out and followed Nate's shadow into the bedroom.
Everything Comes To a Head
Four months later
Nate stood back in the school hall and smiled. The whole place was covered in confetti, balloons, and banners. The ground was sprinkled with glitter, and a long buffet table stood to the side, covered in plates of party food and a large blue-and-white cake. There were cards placed around the table and a pile of neatly wrapped presents on the floor.
"Thank you, guys. Everything looks fantastic. In the future, any minor behavioral misdemeanors will be ignored.
Very
minor misdemeanors." Nate clapped as the football team straightened up the final decorations and beamed at their work.