The Handyman's Dream (33 page)

* * * * *

Ed had about given up on Rick that night when the phone finally rang around eight o’clock.

“Geez,” Ed said, with some relief. “I was beginning to think you were mad at me or something.”

Ed could hear Rick’s deep sigh over the phone. “I’m sorry, baby. Things got a little crazy around here. The dentist told Judy that she really needs to get braces, which is a major tragedy for a twelve-year-old girl. She’s been throwing a fit all evening, fighting with Claire, who’s upset enough about the expense, let alone knowing how awful Judy feels. I mean, Claire went through the braces thing, too. Hell, that’s where Judy got those teeth. I’ve been trying to play peacemaker, but let’s face it: I’m no expert at calming down women. I think there’s been a cease fire, though, so I was wondering if I could come over for a break.”

“Get your sexy ass over here,” Ed commanded. “There’s no women here, just a lonely handyman and a bossy cat.”

* * * * *

“Poor Judy,” Ed said, once Rick was settled on the sofa, Jett in his lap. “I had braces, too. I know just how she feels.”

“Well, that’s just it,” Rick said, one hand on the cat, the other around Ed’s shoulders. “I don’t. I didn’t go through it. All I remember is how much Claire resented me, because she had to have them and I didn’t. All in all, I don’t think I was much help tonight, except to reassure Claire that as long as I was around, the money part wouldn’t be a huge issue. The good thing, though, is since Claire’s a dental hygienist, she’ll be able to get a good price with this orthodontist who gets all of Dr. Wells’s referrals. That should help.”

“Sounds to me like you had enough—what did you call it?—‘vicarious fatherhood’ tonight.” Ed pushed Rick into position so he could rub his shoulders. “I’m really glad you could come over here. I think you need a little attention for yourself.”

“Yeah,” Rick muttered. “Oh, that feels so-o-o-o good.” He relaxed under Ed’s hands. “And, baby, I’m sorry about earlier today.”

“Sorry?” Ed turned his shoulder rub into a full-fledged back massage. Jett, dislocated and bereft of attention, fled to his easy chair. “Sorry about what?”

“Oh, being such a jerk about Gordy being here. I just get so insecure sometimes, thinking about what you have to put up with. Then I start thinking about what it would be like if I lost you, you know, to some guy who’s not busy trying to help raise his sister’s kids.”

“Is that what that was about today?” Ed tried to relax the knotted muscles in Rick’s back. “Darlin’, how many times do I have to tell you I understand about that and how much I support you?”

“I know you do, baby. It’s just sometimes I get worried that your patience with it all will end. I know you don’t think you are, but I know how sexy and handsome and wonderful you are. Why there wasn’t a long line of guys waiting to snap you up before I came along is beyond me. So, when all of a sudden there’s this big, handsome guy here at your house for lunch, all that jealousy and insecurity comes pouring out of me.”

“You were thinking about Jack too, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Oh, Ed, I was so stupid back then. I mean, I know that for a lot of guys, being gay is all about the sex. Hell, do you know how many guys I knew in Indy who didn’t really have friends, they just had fuck buddies? I always wanted more than that, though. Problem was, I thought Jack wanted what I wanted. At least he said he did, but I wasn’t enough for him. Then here I am, years later, living in this Nowhere-ville, and I just happen to meet a guy I’m crazy about, who just happens to feel the same way I do. And what’s even better, since it’s Nowhere-ville, I don’t have to worry about him running around, screwing every guy in town.”

“Oh, Rick, for cryin’ out loud, you know I wouldn’t do that,” Ed said in disgust, rubbing a little harder.

“Ouch! Calm down, okay? I know that. But Gordy shows up, this big, macho ex-football player who just happens to be gay, and I guess all those old feelings came back. I feel like a lion, protecting his pride, ya know? You’re mine, the life we’re building together is ours, and I don’t want anybody messing with it. I know I don’t have a right to be that possessive where you’re concerned, and it probably isn’t all that healthy, but that’s how I feel.”

Ed eased up on the rubbing. “I understand. I feel the same way about you. Darlin’, you know I think you’re the most handsome man in the world, and it scares me to think of other guys being attracted to you, too. Hell, if I saw some guy making eyes at you, I’d probably kill him. But you do understand that you don’t have anything to worry about with Gordy, don’t you? He’d never disrespect your friendship by making a move on me. Plus, he knows I love you too much to even consider it.”

Rick sighed. “I know. You’re right. And I think the world of Gordy, really I do. I also have to remind myself that when it comes to sex, the two of us are so . . . compatible, that I don’t think either one of us would be happy with another guy. Baby,” he said, twisting his head to grin at Ed, “making love doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about what we do together.”

Ed felt himself blushing. “I know. Sometimes I worry about us getting tired of each other, but then I also can’t imagine that ever happening.”

“Me too. I know all of that, but sometimes it scares me, how right we are for each other. I was unhappy for so long, I’m afraid something will happen to ruin it, and oh, boy, it’s off to the races.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, the mind games I play on myself. I start worrying about all the time you spend here alone, wishing I was here with you. You know what? Sometimes I lie in that bed, in that little room I share with Josh, and I think about you here alone, and I can’t sleep. Then I’ll hear Josh wheeze in his sleep from that stupid asthma the doctor keeps saying he’ll outgrow, and I’m so glad I’m there for him. I’ll think about how much happier he is these days, how much better his grades are since I’ve got him reading so much. But then I’ll roll over, and you’re not there. And I’ll want to feel you next to me so bad, I swear, baby, it almost hurts. So then I think: Am I being fair to anyone?”

Ed paused his massaging for a moment, thinking. He felt as though he was playing out Rick’s usual Sunday guilt scene on a Monday. He might have been annoyed, but instead he felt a tenderness for Rick he didn’t know he was capable of. Perhaps the stand-in Dad lying on Ed’s sofa needed a little parenting himself occasionally.

“Well,” Ed said softly, “Josh is a little boy. He needs his uncle Rick right now, and the fact that you’re there for him at all is pretty amazing. He’s a lucky kid. As for me, well, I’m a grown man. I can handle the nights you’re not here because I know you will be eventually. And Josh isn’t stupid. I think he knows there’s something more than just friendship between us. Thing is, he likes me, and I think he trusts me enough to know that when you’re here with me, you’re just across town, and if he needs you, you’d be there in a heartbeat.

“It’s funny, now that I think of it. I mean, I just said I’m a grown man, and I am, running my own business, taking care of this house, and being all responsible. But I think a part of me was still a dumb kid up until the time I met you. I think watching you deal with this, and having to deal with it myself, has helped me grow up a little.”

“Hey, why’d you stop?” Rick teased. “More.”

Ed resumed the massage.

“You’re amazing, baby, you know that? There are a lot of guys who wouldn’t put up with the situation, wouldn’t even bother to see it that way.”

“I’m not just any guy. I happen to be the guy that loves you. Darlin’, I didn’t know I was capable of loving someone as much as I love you. One of the reasons I love you is because Josh and the girls are so important to you. If they weren’t, I don’t think you’d be nearly so wonderful. It hurts, though, to watch you tear yourself up over it. I guess I have to just keep telling you it’s okay. Kids don’t stay kids forever. The day will come when you and I are together full-time. Geez, then we’ll have a whole new set of problems.”

Rick chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I know I’m being too hard on myself, but finding you, being so much in love—shit, it scares me, like I said. I’m afraid I’ll screw it up.”

“You mean you’re human, too? Crud, I thought it was just me.”

“Oh, I get scared, too. And insecure. And my self-confidence takes an occasional dive. I just hide it better than you do.”

“Well, you don’t have to hide it from me,” Ed said, still feeling rather parental. “That’s what I’m here for, to be your confidence when yours fails, just like you do for me.”

“Thanks, baby. For that and the massage.”

The last of a stack of records that Ed had put on the stereo earlier slapped into place and began to play. Three Dog Night’s “One Man Band” poured out of the speakers.

“What can I say, darlin’?” Ed said, turning his man around for a kiss. “‘I just wanna be your one man band.’ And if I can’t play for you all the time, I’ll play for you when I can.”

“Me too, baby,” Rick murmured. “I just wanna be your one-man band too. And you know what? I could really use a little music right now.”

Ed looked at Rick’s watch, noting it was almost Rick’s usual bedtime. He sighed. He sometimes felt every minute of the time he was allowed to have with Rick was measured by that timepiece. Despite his wise, comforting, parental words, he had a childish desire to rip it off Rick’s arm and throw it out the front door.

“I want to make some music with you, too,” Ed found himself saying, “but it’s late for you. I suppose you should go home.” Goddamned watch, he thought.

Rick looked at his watch, obviously thinking much the same thoughts. Ed watched him struggle to make a decision between what he wanted to do and what he needed to do.

“You know what, darlin’?’ Ed smiled at him. “Spring’s only three weeks away.”

Rick looked puzzled, then smiled back at him in comprehension. “How ’bout that.”

“I guess what I’m saying,” Ed continued, “is you don’t have to stay here and make love to me tonight to prove anything. I think they need you at home, and someday I’m going to have you full-time. I know that because I know how much you love me.”

“Baby, when you talk like that, I wanna pack up and move in here right now.”

Ed kissed him softly. “I know, but we agreed. We’d wait until spring. It’s so close, and”—Ed shrugged helplessly, trying to express himself—“I just know something’s gonna happen that will let us know it’s time. So go on home, okay?” He kissed Rick again. “We’ll be together this weekend. Are you forgetting? You turn thirty this week. We’ve got your birthday, and your parents are coming up. Besides, there’s something I want even more than making love with you tonight.”

Rick’s warm and tender special was glowing on his face. “What’s that, baby?”

“I want my lion to go home and get a good night’s sleep, knowing his pride is safe. That’s all.”

It was Rick’s turn to go for a kiss. “I don’t think any lion who ever lived had a more beautiful pride than I have.” He hugged Ed as tightly as he could. “Okay, baby. I’ll go home, and I promise to sleep worry-free. I’ll see you when I deliver your mail tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ed watched Rick climb into his car and drive away, back across town to the sister, nieces, and nephew that he loved—as big a part of that pride as Ed was. He knew that Rick was a good man, as only a good man would worry he wasn’t caring deeply enough for those he loved.

Ed shook his head, looking out into the frosty night. Was it even remotely possible for him to love Rick more now than he did just a few hours ago? He wasn’t sure, but he knew seeing Rick’s vulnerability somehow increased a love that was already bigger than anything Ed had ever imagined.

Jett came up from behind him, meowing at the door. Ed scooped the cat up for a light hug.

“Ya know what, buddy? I think we’re gonna have another roommate soon. I predict it. Before the tulips in the yard bloom, you’re gonna have another lap to sit in and someone else to bug for food.”

He set the impatient cat down and opened the door for him. Jett walked into the yard, sniffing the night air. Ed stepped outside and took a good sniff himself. Yep, no doubt about it. Spring was on its way.

Chapter Twenty

Ed danced around the kitchen as Honey Cone’s old hit, “Want Ads,” blasted from the living room, and since no one was around he allowed himself to sing out loud for a change. Well, Jett was around, and he made his reaction to Ed’s singing voice quite clear. He asked to be let out. Ed didn’t care; he was in too good a mood.

Damn, was there ever a more cheerful breakup song? he thought . If he and Rick broke up, he’d probably slit his wrists. He did a little shuffle of his own invention as he boogied toward the stove. He pulled open the oven door for a quick check. Yep, all was well for his birthday dinner for Rick. He slammed the door shut, spun around, and nearly collided with his mother.

“Mom,” he yelled, grabbing on to her before he fell down. “Jesus Christ, don’t you know how to knock?”

“Knock,” she hollered over the music, pushing Ed away and depositing a bag on the kitchen table. “Why would a person bother to knock with this racket going on? And what business do you have, taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Ed was about to remind her she hadn’t attended a regular church service in almost twenty years, but she wasn’t finished.

“As for your singing, Ed Stephens, now I know why you were kicked out of sixth-grade chorus. Aren’t you worried the neighbors will hear this ruckus? Why, I’d call the police.”

Oh, Mom,” he groaned, throwing his hot pad on the counter. “I’m having a good time. Give me a break already.”

“Good time,” she huffed. “With that noise? Honestly, I had hoped your taste in music might improve as you got older, but I was sadly mistaken. Who is that caterwauling, anyway? That Diana Ross you like so much?”

“No, but I think she’s on next,” he said, trying to tweak her and succeeding. “Sorry, Mom. Fresh out of Glenn Miller and Tommy Dorsey over here.”

“Honestly. There hasn’t been a decent recording made since Elvis shook his pelvis. Turn that noise down right this very minute.”

Putting on his most wounded look, Ed went to the living room and took the needle off Diana Ross’s “Surrender,” which had just dropped onto the turntable.

“That’s better,” Norma remarked in a normal tone of voice as he reentered the kitchen. “Well, here’s your cookies. You tell Rick I hope he had a happy birthday today.”

“Actually, yesterday was his birthday.” Ed peered into the bag. “Thanks, Mom. Rick loves your cookies, you know. I thought two birthday cakes would be a bit much.”

“Yesterday? Two cakes?”

“He spent his actual birthday, yesterday, with Claire and the kids,” Ed clarified. “They had a big cake and a party for him. Since today is Friday, and he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, I’m celebrating his birthday with him tonight.”

“I see.” She nodded. “What do you have in that oven there?”

Ed sighed. Here it comes, he thought. “Meatloaf, baked potatoes, and green bean casserole. It’s one of his favorite meals.”

“Meatloaf?” Norma queried, eyebrows raised. “I don’t seem to recall you asking for my meatloaf recipe.”

“I called Rick’s mother for her recipe. That’s the one he’s used to.”

“Humph.” Norma stalked over to the oven, hot pad in hand. “I’d just better see this meatloaf.” She pulled the door down and stuck her nose as close to the pan as she could. “Well, it looks all right,” she conceded. “Let me see the recipe.”

Resigned, Ed handed over the scratch pad page with his scrawled notes on it.

“Bread crumbs,” she read, scandalized. “Why, I never stretched a meatloaf with bread crumbs in my life. Your father would turn over in his grave.”

“Guess what, Mom? Dad’s not coming to dinner tonight. And neither are you. And I don’t think Katharine Hepburn or Sidney Poitier are either, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Watch your mouth,” she warned him, handing over the paper. “Well, if that’s what the poor man is used to. I’ll just have to have him over sometime for a real meatloaf. Speaking of dinner guests, though, I thought you said his parents were coming to town.”

“They are, tomorrow. They’re stopping here in the morning, and then we’re supposed to go to lunch at the Wood Haven. Then they’re going to spend the afternoon with Claire and the kids.”

“Hmm.” She inspected the newly scrubbed kitchen floor. “I thought it looked awfully clean in here for a change.”

“Yeah,” he confessed, “I was at it all day today. I was really glad no one called for a job.”

“Humph. You’ll clean for strangers, but not for your mother. That figures.”

“Mom-m-m-m!”

“Well, just the same, you make sure you make a good impression on these people.”

“I’ve already met them, Mom, you know that. I’m just a little uptight ’cause they’re coming here.”

Norma, scowling, rubbed at a grease stain Ed had missed on the wall. “Just like meeting your in-laws,” she grumbled. “Can you beat that?”

“Well, that’ll be one to tell ’em at garden club.”

“The garden club won’t hear about this, believe me. I still haven’t told them about you. I figure what they don’t know won’t hurt me.”

Ed was ashamed. Norma had been wonderful about his relationship with Rick, so he knew he really shouldn’t tease her.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I know this is all pretty weird for you.”

Norma turned around from the wall and looked at her son. “Yes, it is. Your father had his mind pretty well made up about you a long time ago, but actually seeing you with some man is still a little shocking for me. And I’ll tell you, if it were anyone other than that Rick, I don’t know how I’d feel. But he’s a good man, and better than you deserve. You just see to it that you treat his parents with respect. Even with that awful meatloaf, they did a good job with him.”

“I will, Mom,” he said, smiling at her.

Norma sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes I do wonder what your father would say about all this. Oh, well. I’ll just be on my way. I’m due over at your sister’s to babysit while they go bowling in that silly league.”

“Just keep your hands off their Froot Loops, okay?” He walked with her to the door.

“Oh, you. Think I’m such an ogre. I baked cookies for them, too.” She turned around, hand on the doorknob. “Well, tell Rick ‘happy day after’ or whatever, and I hope he likes the cookies.”

“He will. He always does. Thanks again, Mom. I really appreciate it.”

He closed the door behind her, sighing. Bossy and domineering as she was, Norma was doing her best to accept a situation she had not wanted for Ed, and he appreciated it much more than her cookie-baking. He wished he had a better way to show it, but nothing immediately came to mind. After all, tonight was for Rick, he thought, returning to his stereo. He’d pull a Scarlett O’Hara and worry about that tomorrow.

* * * * *

“The cookies were inspired, baby,” Rick said later that evening. “In fact—”

“No! You’ve had enough. We are dancing. Shut up and dance.”

“Yes, sir, but I thought it was my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday, but it’s my house.”

“But are you my man?”

“Absolutely. But sucking up to the host will not get you more cookies, at least not until this song is over.”

The lights were dim, the Stylistics were singing “Stop, Look, Listen,” and Ed and Rick were indeed dancing, or at least holding each other close, swaying from side to side. Rick had thoroughly enjoyed his birthday dinner and Ed’s present of a gift certificate to the Bookworm Nook in downtown Porterfield, and he had managed to eat his way through half of Norma’s cookies.

“You know the reason I really love those cookies so much tonight?”

“Why’s that?”

“No candles. I thought the kids were gonna set the house on fire last night. Thirty-one damned candles blazing on that cake. One for each year and one to grow on. It took them so long to light ’em that we ate candle wax with the icing.”

“My mailman is getting old.”

“Oh, yeah? Take those clothes off, baby, and get into bed. I’ll show you a thing or two about age and experience.”

“Sure you don’t need a shot of Geritol first? Ouch,” Ed exclaimed as Rick purposely stomped on his foot.

The Stylistics faded out. The record changer clicked, and Gordon Lightfoot began to mournfully sing “If You Could Read My Mind.”

“I’m wounded. I need to sit down.”

Ed dragged Rick to the sofa. They collapsed in a heap, one big tangle of arms and legs.

Rick sighed. “Thank you, baby, for tonight. This has been the nicest birthday I’ve had in years. I don’t even care that I’m thirty. Last night was great, but tonight is . . . really special.” He put a hand to Ed’s face, then gently pulled him close for a kiss. “If you could read my mind right now, what do you think you’d find?”

Ed giggled. “Probably wax from all those candles. No,” he said, suddenly serious. “I think I’d see how much you love me, if the look on your face means anything.”

“That’s right. That’s the tale my thoughts would tell, all about you and how wonderful you are. I love you, and that’s all I care about right now. Well, that and the fact I think you missed your calling. Sometimes I think you should have been a deejay.”

“I don’t have the voice for it.”

“Well, you certainly have the records for it.”

“Any special birthday requests?”

“Yeah, more cookies.”

“Aw, crud.” Ed hauled himself off the sofa and walked to the kitchen for the cookie jar. “Another romantic moment ruined by my mother’s cookies. Next year you get cake, with thirty-two fucking candles on it.”

Rick joined him at the cookie jar. “I hope my mom doesn’t bring any sweets tomorrow. Hell, if I keep this up, I won’t be able to squeeze into my uniform on Monday. Are you nervous about tomorrow, baby?”

Ed took a cookie for himself. “No, not really.”

Rick smirked. “Then why is this house cleaner than I’ve ever seen it?”

Ed scowled at him. “There is nothing wrong with trying to make a good impression.”

“That’s true,” Rick conceded. “I just didn’t want you to get all worked up again, like you did last time.”

“I’m not, really. At least I don’t think I am,” Ed said thoughtfully. “I was more worried about the meatloaf drying out. No, your folks were easy to be with, and as long as Jett behaves himself, tomorrow should go fine. Speaking of that cat, where is he?”

They made a quick search of the house and found Jett crashed in the middle of the bed.

“Oh, great,” Rick said. “Another three-way tonight. Does he always do this, or just on the nights I’m here?”

“Well, I have to admit he’s good sleeping company when you’re not around,” Ed said, teasing him, “but I’d much rather have you.”

“Is that so? Well, he’s sleeping on the chair tonight. I want you all to myself. In fact”—Rick grabbed Ed’s sweatshirt and began to pull it over his head—“I’m pretty damned tired. How about we lie down for a while?”

“You old men, always going to sleep earlier and earlier,” Ed mumbled through his shirt.

Rick knotted the shirt around Ed’s neck.

“In the first place,” he said, pulling it tighter, “I was up very, very early today, a fact of which you are well aware, smart-ass. In the second place, who said anything about sleeping?”

“Argh! Get this thing off my neck or sleeping is all you will do tonight.”

Rick disentangled Ed from his shirt and tossed it on the floor. One hand cupped Ed’s head to bring him closer for a kiss, while the other hand unfastened his belt.

“Damn, you old guys know all the moves, don’t you?” Ed said, smiling against Rick’s lips.

The jeans were removed, the Jockeys followed, and then the socks, one at a time.

“Look at you,” Rick said, admiring. “Now there’s a birthday present.”

With some help from Ed, Rick was quickly out of his own clothes. The cat was rudely awakened and deposited on the easy chair. They fell onto the bed together, kissing softly, holding each other loosely. Ed heard the last record fade out in the living room and made a move to get up, but Rick stopped him.

“Don’t worry about it, Mister Deejay.” He stroked Ed’s hair. “This one-man band has lots of music to make right here. We don’t need any more.”

Ed kissed Rick slowly, tenderly. “Happy birthday, darlin’,” he whispered.

Rick pulled him closer. “Baby, you remember that first night, right here in this bed?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“’Cause. I remember how bad I wanted you, how I had wanted you since I first saw you. I remember lying here with you that first time, and I don’t think I ever wanted a man as bad as I wanted you. And you know what? I still do, want you that bad.”

Ed glanced away from Rick’s face. “I can see that.”

“What’re you gonna do about it, baby?”

“I can think of lots of things, but it’s your birthday,” Ed said, gently squeezing, moving himself farther down the bed. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, ’cause I want you just as bad.”

Rick’s eyes closed as he moaned under his breath.

“Happy birthday,” Ed repeated, this time with a smile.

* * * * *

Ed sighed, pulling himself into a much nicer outfit than his usual Saturday grubbies.