The Handyman's Dream (41 page)

“Yeah.” Ed managed a weak smile. “My responsibility freak.”

“Exactly. He takes that sort of thing so seriously. You know what? I blame Jack for that, too. I think Rick vowed he’d never be like that. I think he’s never really forgiven himself for Jack either. He seems to feel he made the same mistake I did with Hank. So what did he do? He moved here, to get away from Jack, and tried to clean up the mess I had made. I love my brother, Ed, but sometimes I just want to kick him. I wish he wouldn’t be so hard on himself.”

“Me too.”

“Hang on a minute, Ed,” Claire said impatiently. He heard her talking away from the phone. “Yes, sweetie, go ahead and set up the game. I’ll be over just as soon as I finish talking to Uncle Ed. No, I don’t care what color I am. Just pick one.”

She returned to Ed. “It’s Chutes and Ladders for me again tonight. I wish the kid was old enough to understand Monopoly.”

Ed chuckled, remembering Rick telling him what a ruthless Monopoly player Claire was.

“Thank heaven Josh is keeping himself entertained,” she said. “Rick has him reading Paddington Bear, and he loves it.” She laughed. “I suppose I should thank you again for that Abba album you gave Judy for her birthday. It’s blaring from her room right now. I’m surprised she hasn’t worn it out.

“Ed,” she continued, “it means so much to Rick, and to me, that you seem to enjoy the kids.”

“Oh, I do,” he assured her.

“Thanks. They think you’re the greatest, and believe me, I can’t imagine them ever thinking something like that about Jack. This whole incident tonight, with Jack, really has me thinking. You know, there’s no reason why Rick can’t do what I know he wants to do, move in with you. We’re fine over here, and I think it’s time he did something for himself, something good.”

“Really?” Ed asked. “Has he spoken to you?”

“Oh, he mentioned it when he came home from the lake last weekend. He said he wanted to talk to me about moving in with you. He”—she giggled—“got all red-faced under his beard, said he’d ask you to marry him. Oh, it was so sweet, Ed. I know I shouldn’t laugh, but if you’d known him when he was younger, you’d know how much this means to me, that he’s found the right person.

“Anyway, seeing Jack tonight, made me realize that he needs to be with you. I don’t know what he’s waiting for.”

“I do,” Ed said. “He’s waiting for your approval, and for the kids’ approval.”

Claire snorted. “Is that all? Well, he has it. We’re fine here, really. Josh can have his room to himself again, and now I’ve got two uncles to tap for babysitting.”

Ed’s legs gave out on him again. He sank to the floor, dragging the phone with him. “Thank you, Claire. I want him here with me more than you know, but not until he feels right about it, where you and the kids are concerned.”

Claire giggled again. “Tell you what, since you’ll probably talk to him before I will, tell him his clothes will be in a pile on the front lawn. I’m throwing him out. There! He has no choice but to be with you.”

Ed was able to laugh as well. “I’ll do that. Thanks again.”

“No problem. Ed, you still sound sick to me. Do yourself a favor, and go to bed. Don’t worry. Rick will be home in the morning, and when I say he’ll be home, I mean at your house. For good. Okay?”

“Okay. Good night, Claire. I hope you beat the pants off Jane at Chutes and Ladders.”

He hung up the phone, leaning his head against the wall. He suddenly remembered telling Rick weeks ago that something would happen in the spring, something that would tell them the time was right to officially bring their lives together. It seemed Jack’s sudden appearance was that thing.

“I’ll be dipped in shit,” he muttered. “Who would’ve ever thought?”

He looked around the quiet room. He tried to remember living there before Rick had come into his life, but couldn’t. Every room, every piece of furniture seemed a part of their life together. Even Jett, asleep in his easy chair, seemed as much Rick’s cat as his own.

Claire was right; he was exhausted. But he knew he wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t even consider crawling into that bed without Rick. He looked at the records scattered on the floor near the stereo. He didn’t want to listen to them until Rick was back, ready to dance with him again, calling him “baby” with love in his eyes. The common endearment had almost annoyed Ed at first, but now he was so used to it, he couldn’t imagine not hearing it every day, hearing the love in those two syllables.

He looked at the clock. If Rick had left Porterfield around seven o’clock, it would be after nine before he reached Indianapolis. Would he stay over or come home? Ed supposed there was nothing to do but wait.

By nine-thirty he was about to climb the walls. He didn’t want to go to bed, and he didn’t want to be alone in the house. He couldn’t stay there without Rick. The hell with doctor’s orders, he had to get out of there. He picked up the phone and called Gordy.

“Hell-lo,” Gordy answered.

“Hey, Gord, it’s Ed. Whatcha doing?”

“Me? On a Saturday night? Oh, I’m having a hell of a good time. Got an orgy going, what do ya think? I’m sitting here in front of the tube, waiting for that shitty new Saturday Night Live to come on. Man, that show has sucked since the original cast left.”

Ed found himself smiling. Gordy’s nonsense, his usual bitching, sounded reassuringly normal. “Well, I was wondering, could I come over for a while?”

“Sure. Hell, I’d love the company. But where in the hell is Rick?”

Ed let out a long breath. “That is a very long story. I’ll tell you when I get there, okay?”

He slowly pulled himself together, putting on his sneakers, hunting down his truck keys. He knew he should hang around if Rick should happen to call, but he’d been cooped in that house for over four days. He wished he had an answering machine so he could leave a message for Rick, but he’d never had to worry about it before. Everyone else seemed to be getting them these days, so he supposed he would too now that Rick was moving in. Yes, he told himself, Rick was moving in.

“Oh, God,” he whispered. “Bring him home safe. Don’t let him crash the car on I-69. Please let me see his face, let me tell him that everything’s okay for us now.”

With one last, lingering glance at the silent phone, Ed left the house.

* * * * *

Shit,” Gordy exclaimed when he’d heard the whole story. “Why didn’t Claire call me when that bastard showed up? Hell, I’da hauled his ass down to the post office, dumped him in a box postmarked Anywhere But Here, and let him sit there in the dark until Monday.”

“Well, I’m sure she didn’t think of it, Gordy, but maybe she will next time,” Ed said wearily.

“Next time! Ed, there’s not gonna be a next time, trust me.”

“What do you mean?”

Gordy, sighing impatiently, reached for his cigarettes. “The minute Rick dumps that guy in Indy, hopefully in a ditch somewhere on 465, he’ll never see him again. There’s no way in hell that guy is gonna bother Rick again after tonight.” He lit a cigarette, blowing smoke. “Rick may have put up with that shit before he met you, but he won’t now.”

“I wish I felt as sure as you do,” Ed said, coughing.

“Aw, geez, I forgot you’ve been sick.” Gordy reached for an ashtray to stamp out the cigarette.

“No, no.” Ed waved his hand. “I’d be coughing, smoke or no smoke. Enjoy it. Please. Hell, I’m half tempted to ask you for one.”

Gordy brought the cigarette back to his lips, looking relieved. “Okay, I’ll smoke, but you’re not. Damn. Rick would kill me if I gave you one of these.”

Ed smiled. “Yeah, I guess he would. If he was here.”

Gordy shrugged impatiently. “He will be. Don’t worry. Rick will be back when he’s taken the trash out. And, yes, I am sure there will be no next time. Don’t you have eyes in your head? Don’t you see the way that guy looks at you? Shit, sometimes, watching him looking at you, I almost get jealous, wondering if any guy will ever look at me like that.”

Ed felt a little better, hearing Gordy’s confidence. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you do, Gord. I know there’s a Rick out there for you somewhere.”

“Well, my luck being what it is, I don’t s’pose he’ll come walking into the Porterfield Post Office, but I guess maybe you’re right. Lightning struck big time for you in this town. I don’t know if it’ll strike twice.”

“I got lucky,” Ed said, a part of him still not believing it. When he thought back to last fall, when he wondered if the new mailman was gay and how he couldn’t imagine that he was, but also couldn’t imagine him being attracted to Ed if he was, he sometimes felt the last five months had been nothing but a dream. “I don’t know why I got so lucky. Rick says sometimes you just get lucky. I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to look a little harder, but I know there’s a guy out there for you.”

Gordy blew out a long trail of smoke, watching it float away. “Yeah. I almost drove into Fort Wayne tonight, to Carlton’s. I don’t know why I didn’t. Guess I just didn’t feel like going alone, then coming home alone.”

“You want Rick and me to go with you some Saturday night?”

Gordy snorted. “Yeah, sure. The big tough guy here needs his friends to hold his hand. No, thanks for the offer, but I can do it on my own. Far as I’m concerned, that place is no place for you two. It’s just packed with assholes, like that Jack, who are so miserable and jealous that they’d love nothing more than to come between you, break you up, and make you as miserable as they are. I’ve seen it in Indy and in Chicago. No, you guys stay home where you belong. When I meet a decent guy, I’ll bring him over for dinner, okay?”

“It’s a date,” Ed promised. “And I bet it’ll happen sooner than you think.” He coughed again, then yawned.

“Look at you,” Gordy said, disgusted. “Still sick, about half-asleep, and driving over here because you’re worried about your guy. Hell, if there’s one person in this world I wouldn’t worry about, it’s Rick Benton. Why don’t you take your sorry ass home and go to bed?”

Ed shrugged. “It’s just so damned quiet there, and I . . . oh, don’t bawl me out, Gordy, but I can’t help wondering—”

“Bawl you out? Hell, I’m gonna beat you up,” he roared. “Get off this, Ed. I know this has been a big surprise and all that, but it don’t mean anything. Absolutely nothing. Rick just had a dirty job to do tonight, and he’s doing it. He’ll be back in the morning, and you’ll feel like an asshole, wondering why the hell you were wasting good sleeping time over at my place.”

Ed looked at his friend with great affection. “You know what, Gordy? I think I love you.”

Gordy threw his hands up in the air, almost throwing his cigarette across the room. “Now he tells me,” he exclaimed, eyes heavenward. “Why the hell didn’t this happen six months ago?”

Gordy shook his head, then began to laugh. “Oh, what the hell, I love you too, you asshole. I can’t tell you how much it’s meant to me, having you and Rick for friends lately. It’s made a big difference in . . . well, in everything. But since you love me, and since I’m you’re new best buddy, I’m gonna tell you something for your own good. Go home. Now.”

Ed stood up. He was suddenly incredibly tired, but also at peace. Gordy’s words had penetrated the fear he had carried with him all evening. He even thought he could go home and sleep in that bed alone.

“Okay. I’ll go home. But do you s’pose I could get a big ole football player hug before I go?”

Gordy stubbed out his cigarette, got up, and approached Ed, arms outstretched. They hugged, tightly, for a long time.

“Thanks, Gordy,” Ed said softly.

“Anytime, buddy,” Gordy said, just as soft. “Anytime.”

Ed stumbled across the parking lot of Gordy’s apartment building on Stratton Avenue. He made it into his truck and started for home, braking for the stop signs at every intersection on Grant Street, almost wishing he’d taken the long way around to his house.

As he approached his own block he rubbed his eyes, convinced he was hallucinating. Rick’s car was in his driveway. He hit the gas and spun the truck crazily into the driveway next to Rick’s car, not bothering to put it in the garage. He jumped out, slamming the door. His weak lungs ached as he ran to the back door. He managed to get through both doors and staggered into the kitchen. He almost collapsed with relief. Rick was on the sofa, Jett in his lap. The stereo was on, “One Man Band” playing softly.

“Well, sick boy, what the hell are you doing out running around in the middle of the night?” Rick asked him, that beautiful, wonderful warm and tender smile on his face.

Ed gasped, then coughed. “I—I was at Gordy’s,” he choked out. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Indy?”

Rick shrugged. “I told you I was gonna clean up the pizza, didn’t I?”

Ed couldn’t help it. Those damned tears that had been betraying him ever since he got sick returned. He felt them slide out of his eyes, and he put his head down, hoping Rick wouldn’t see.

But he did, of course. He pushed the cat aside, leapt to his feet, and had his arms around Ed in a heartbeat.

“Baby, baby, don’t cry,” he murmured.

Ed took a quivering, almost choking breath. “That’s a song by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, isn’t it? I don’t have that one.”

Rick laughed, holding him tight. “Oh, baby, what I went through tonight. Being away from you just about damn near killed me, but I’m back. I’m about ready to drop dead from being so tired, but I’m back.”