The Handyman's Dream (25 page)

“I know.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Ed nodded. “Do you remember that night we met at Carlton’s? Hell, you told me all about the kids and why you were living here before you even told me your name. It was almost like you were telling me, or anyone you might happen to meet, how important this was to you. I understood it then, and I understand it even better now.”

“I repeat, you are very special, baby.”

Ed shrugged. “Maybe. This is just how the story is playing out for us, and I don’t have a problem playing Uncle Ed to three more kids. We’ll never have kids of our own, so between my niece and nephew, and your three, we have five we can borrow from time to time.”

Rick gazed at him fondly. “I have to admit, there’s a part of me that would love to have a little Ed to raise, but I don’t suppose that’ll ever happen.”

“Probably not. But I think we have our hands full already.”

“You’re right, baby. Five is enough. Let me see, Jane will probably graduate high school in . . . my God, 1993.” He shook his head. “I hope I’m out of this house by then.”

Ed poked him playfully. “You’d better be. I am not waiting twelve years to go to bed with you every night.”

“Oh, we’ll be together long before then, baby, I know it. I just need to know you’re ready to help me keep an eye on these three wonderful children for as long as it takes.”

Ed kissed him. “No problem. No problem at all.” He kissed Rick again, a very long kiss, filled with a great deal of love and affection. “Welcome to the official eighties, darlin’. I have a feeling you’re gonna be stuck with me for the whole decade, whether you wanna be or not.”

Rick’s return kiss was as long, loving, and affectionate. “I definitely do not have a problem with that. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too, darlin’.”

Ed and Rick moved closer together, and they slowly drifted off to sleep, in each other’s arms, on that first official day of the 1980s.

Chapter Sixteen

One Sunday morning, deep in the heart of January, Ed and Rick lay in bed together watching a gentle snow fall over Porterfield. The snow was gradually turning the limbs of the lilac bush outside Ed’s bedroom window white, and if either one of them had bothered to stand up by the window and look, they would have seen Rick’s burgundy car, sitting in the driveway, turning white as well. Ed’s truck was safely parked in his little one-car garage, a fact he always noted with gratitude on snowy mornings. Ed sighed and moved closer to Rick.

“How can something so beautiful be such a pain in the ass?” he murmured, thinking of the walks he’d no doubt be shoveling the next day, if not today.

Rick propped himself on one arm for a better view out the window. “Hey, look at that,” he said softly, pointing at a cardinal couple in the lilac bush.

Ed glanced out the window and smiled as well. “Yeah, Mr. and Mrs. Redd, I call them. They live in that hedge between my yard and the Hendricksons’. Mrs. Hendrickson has a bird feeder in their backyard. I gave her some money to help pay for the birdseed last fall, because I enjoy seeing the cardinals as much as they do. Indiana state bird, ya know. Sometimes, around dusk, all the cardinals in the neighborhood will hit their bird feeder for supper. It’s really something. Maybe one of these days you’ll be here at the right time and see it.”

The red birds suddenly flew away, knocking snow off the lilac branch.

“Probably on their way to the Hendricksons’ for Sunday brunch,” Rick commented. He stretched and groaned. “Oh, I’m hungry, too, but in no mood to leave this warm bed.” He put his arm around Ed and sighed with contentment. “It’s always so peaceful here. And safe. And warm. Right about now at home the kids would be arguing over the Sunday funnies. God love ’em, but there are times I’m glad I’m just an uncle and not a dad.”

“Yeah,” Ed said. “New Year’s was great, but I don’t want to make a habit of it.”

Rick chuckled. “Vicarious fatherhood. Yeah, I think we’ve got the parental thing well covered, probably better than a lot of guys like us.”

“Yeah, and despite what Glen said, I have no desire to move to the suburbs and buy a station wagon. I’m content just to have you here with me, just the two of us.” Ed kissed Rick to show him just how content he was.

Rick smiled at him with sleepy, Sunday-morning affection. “You do know there are times I wish I was here all the time so I could see things like the cardinals at dusk.” He chuckled again. “‘Cardinals at Dusk.’ Sounds like the name of a painting. But—”

“I know,” Ed interrupted him. “It’s too soon, and you’re not ready to leave Claire alone with the kids. I’m okay with that, remember? Besides, now that the holidays are over and things have calmed down, we’ve settled into a nice routine. We get to see each other every day at some point, and Claire’s been really cool about you staying over here every Saturday night. I just wish,” he said thoughtfully, thinking of Rick’s car in the driveway, “that I had a bigger garage.”

Rick hugged him. “Ah, don’t worry about it. As much as I like your place, I keep thinking about a bigger place, a house where we can spread out and have all the things we’ve always wanted. Hell, I’ll just add a two-car garage to the wish list.”

“Hmm, a basement workshop for me, a library for you, a two-car garage for both of us . . . what else?”

“Well,” Rick said, “I wonder about the location. Sometimes I think about us moving somewhere else, someplace a little more open to guys like us, but I don’t really want to move away from the kids until they’re a lot older, and I can’t imagine you leaving all the old folks that depend on you.” He giggled. “At least not until they all die off. But there will be plenty more to take their place. They’re all crazy about you, and it would be hard to build up a business like that in a big city. I’m guessing it would, anyway.”

“I never even really thought about it until you came along,” Ed said. “I guess I just saw myself growing old here as the bachelor, closeted handyman. Oh, I thought about moving away, even moving to Chicago or some other city, where it would be a lot easier to be gay. I’ve watched some of Glen’s friends do that. You know what, though? They always seem to move back after they’ve had their fun. It makes me wonder if it’s really any easier to be a gay man in a big city than it is here. I’ll bet even San Francisco has lots of drawbacks that we hicks here in Hoosierland don’t know about.

“Still,” he continued, “I wonder about us living together here. What some of my clients might say, or the neighbors. I hate to admit it, darlin’, but maybe that’s one of the reasons I’m willing to put off the thought of your moving in here. I mean, the Hendricksons are great neighbors, but what if, ya know?”

“Yes, I do know.” Rick looked troubled for a moment, then smiled. “All this serious talk on a Sunday morning. It’s Sunday, it’s snowing, and we’re here where it’s safe and warm.” He slapped Ed’s ass under the covers. “How ’bout I make the cutest handyman in this little burg some French toast, huh?”

“I’ll get the syrup.” Ed threw the covers back to get out of bed.

Once they were at the kitchen table, enjoying French toast and sausage, they discussed plans for the rest of the day. Ed was all for driving into the city to see the new comedy hit 9 to 5.

“The way they keep playing that Dolly Parton song on the radio really makes me want to see it. I was hoping we could go over Christmas, but we were both too busy.”

“Oh, baby, do you really want to drive through all this snow?” Rick asked, pouring himself more orange juice. “Why don’t we just stay here? I know, let’s get out your Monopoly set. I know you have one. I saw it upstairs once.”

“Monopoly,” Ed groaned. “ After all those games I played with the kids on New Year’s Eve? Oh, brother. I suppose you’re one of those assholes who grab Boardwalk and Park Place and run everyone else out of the game, right?”

Rick laughed, almost spitting juice. “No way. I’m usually lucky if I get Baltic Avenue. Claire’s the Monopoly villain in our family. Oh, the fights we had over that when we were kids. Sounds like we’re on about the same level then. How ’bout it?”

“Okay,” Ed reluctantly agreed. “But you have to be the banker, and I get the racing car.”

“You got it,” Rick said, taking his plate to the sink. He paused, looking out the window above the sink. The snow was still falling, a bit heavier now. “I sure wish I could go back to my route tomorrow,” he said wistfully.

“In this snow?” Ed was disbelieving. “Oh,” he said, turning to Rick with an empathic look. “Murk the Jerk still buggin’ you?”

Rick sighed. “Murk the Jerk. Man, that’s about the nicest thing I can think of to call him. Yeah, he’s still being a pain in the ass. But really, baby, I’m coping with it. Don’t worry. I just miss being outside, being on my own during the day, even in the snow. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always liked the job. Being cooped up in that sorting room every day . . . I’m sick of it. But Don says I can’t until I get a clean bill of health from Dr. Quigley.” He reached behind to rub his back. “It feels fine,” he grumbled. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”

“Well, you see Dr. Quigley again this week, right? Maybe he’ll finally declare you healed.” Ed joined him at the sink.

“I hope so,” Rick said, running water for the dishes.

“Hey, you cooked, I’ll clean,” Ed said, playfully nudging Rick away from the sink. “Geez, look at that snow. We may be worrying about my back by this time tomorrow. I can’t bitch, though. The money will sure come in handy. Things always slow down for me this time of year.”

“I promise to come over sometime tomorrow, or tomorrow night, and give my handyman a back rub,” Rick promised. “Are you doing okay, though, baby? Moneywise? I’m torn, thinking it’s none of my business and thinking it is.” Rick chuckled uneasily. “After all, we are talking kind of seriously about a future together.”

“I’m fine,” Ed assured him. “Things slow down every winter. People start putting off all their repair jobs, except emergencies, until spring. I’m used to it. I’m like a squirrel. I put as many nuts in the bank every fall that I can, and that, plus the regular stuff that I do for people and the snow removal, keeps me warm and well-fed until spring. My dad may have taught me how to fix things, but my mom taught me the value of a dollar and how to save ’em.”

“Ah, it’s nice to know I’m not in love with a spendthrift.” Rick gave him a hug. “We’re gonna need all the nuts we can store away to make some of those bigger house dreams come true.”

“Now, if Ruth Dorsey would just pay me for all that painting I did right before Christmas,” Ed said, clattering dishes into the sink, “I wouldn’t worry at all. ‘I’ll give you a check as soon as Christmas is over, Eddie,’” he said, mimicking her haughty voice. “Eddie, she calls me, like I’m some little boy she’s doing a favor for. You know what, though? I’ve noticed those with the most money are always the slowest to pay.”

“One of Porterfield’s elite, I take it?”

“Well, she thinks she is. She hangs out with Eunice Ames and that crowd, at least on the outer fringe of it. Her husband’s a big shot out at Marsden, though I was never too impressed with him. I don’t know, darlin’. As much as I wish we were rich and could do whatever we want, I’d hate for us to end up like that.”

Rick hugged him again, from behind. “Baby, I think you could have all the money in the world and you’d still be the shy, down-to-earth man I fell in love with. I’m just glad to know you’re taking care of yourself financially. As much as I sometimes envy your self-employment, I must admit I like getting a regular paycheck.”

Ed glanced over his shoulder at Rick’s face, noticing that slightly troubled look again. “Why are we talking about work and money and that serious stuff? Let’s just enjoy the few hours we have left together. Any minute my phone is gonna ring, all people wanting their walks cleared right away. Let’s have some fun. Why don’t you go dig up that Monopoly game while I wash up?” he said, hastily scrubbing some knives. “All of a sudden I’m feeling lucky.”

Rick slapped Ed’s ass, smiling. “Ah, I’ll have you in jail before you know it.”

“Yeah?” Ed retorted, glad to see Rick’s smile. “I hear they’ve got a cute guard. That might not be such a bad thing!”

* * * * *

A few days later, Rick stopped by Ed’s house for lunch, with a bag of their usual takeout from the Cozy Hearth Café with him.

“Let’s eat fast,” Rick said with his most devilish look. “Then maybe I’ll have time to molest the handyman before I go back to work.”

“You’re in a good mood today,” Ed remarked, unwrapping his roast beef on rye.

“I sure am. Don’s letting me go back on my route next week.” He laughed. “What with Dr. Quigley’s okay and Ralph bitching to him about hauling mail in the snow, he finally saw reason. Baby, I will be out of that stuffy building, and Jim Murkland can go fuck himself.”

“That’s great, darlin’.” Ed beamed at him, sandwich forgotten.

“We need to celebrate,” Rick said, raising his Pepsi can in a toast. “I don’t suppose you have Rare Earth’s ‘I Just Want to Celebrate’ in that stockpile of yours, do you?”

“No,” Ed said regretfully, raising his can as well. “You finally asked for one I don’t have. Oh, well. Maybe I’ll stop by the Record Rack or Woolworth’s and get that new Kool & the Gang song they’re playing on the radio, ‘Celebration.’”

“You do that.” Rick’s warm and tender special was glowing on his face. “And let’s go to Fort Wayne this weekend and see that movie you want to see, and anything else you want to do. Hell, I’ll even spring for a nice dinner out someplace.”

“It’s a date.”

Ed smiled back at him, relieved that Rick was so happy about the change in his job, but Ed was still a bit worried about Jim Murkland. True, Rick would be away from the post office most of the day, but he still had to put in some time there. He couldn’t avoid Murkland entirely.

Rick wolfed down his sandwich. “Hurry up with that thing, baby,” he said impatiently. “I may not have time to make some serious love with you, but I sure would like to show you how much I love you before I have to go back.”

“What’d you have in mind?” Ed teased, stuffing potato chips in his mouth.

Rick grinned mysteriously. “Meet me in the bedroom in about five minutes, and I’ll show you.”

Ed made it to the bedroom in four, and Rick did indeed show him exactly what he had in his mind, and a few other places as well.

“I’m no big fan of quickies,” Rick sighed happily, “but this time I just couldn’t wait. You okay, baby?”

“I can’t imagine being naked with you and not being okay,” Ed whispered, kissing him. “I’m gonna have to take this afterglow on the road, though. I have to reinforce one of the legs on Mrs. Ilinski’s couch.”

“Reinforce it? Huh?” Rick asked, puzzled.

Ed smirked. “Let’s just say there’s a lot of Mrs. Ilinski, and sometimes she’s not too careful about parking it.”

“Oh!” Comprehension flashed in Rick’s eyes, above his smile. “Well, I’m taking my afterglow back to the Porterfield Post Office. I hope I’m shining so damned bright that it blinds Jim Fucking Murkland.” He reached for his pants, then hesitated, turning back to Ed. He pulled Ed to him for another kiss. “How anyone could ever find something ugly in me loving you, Ed Stephens, is beyond me. Loving you is the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to me.”

* * * * *

After that, the whole Jim Murkland situation slipped away from Ed’s mind as he began dealing with a problem of his own. The heater in his truck was blowing nothing but cold air, which was rather unfortunate, it being the middle of January. After shivering his way from job to job, he finally gave up and called the service department at Wagner’s Chevy/Olds on the north edge of town. They told him to bring it in Friday morning.