Just Hit Send - Summerfire
by Grasshopper
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Part I
I glanced around my bedroom one last time, checking to make sure I had everything. Course, for the lake, all I need are cutoffs and sneakers. I'd packed all my latest journals, excited that I'd be able to watch Kenny's face as he read them.
Every summer, since I could ever remember, my dads have taken me to the cabin for two weeks. The first time we went it had been winter and freezing and my Daddy had teased me about being in snow up to my eyeballs. They promised me before we left that first time, that we’d come back every year, just us. He kept his promise.
These two weeks are the best time of my whole year.Don’t get me wrong, I love Mom and Pop and even Nickie sometimes, but the time I spend with just my dads is the best ever. All my troubles in high school can be forgotten and I can just be myself, no one teasing me or calling me fag. I watch them and I know that one day, I’ll find someone to love like that.
I want to talk to Kenny, really talk to him this year. It makes me smile just thinking of the first time I met Kenny. I was eight and he had seemed so old. For two weeks, I trailed around behind him trying to help. Funny part was that Kenny never yelled at me or told me to get lost.
Kenny's dad was the local carpenter/repairman and he was teaching Kenny everything he knew. When my dads and I drove up to the cabin that summer the first thing we saw was the sagging front porch. A call to Joe Phillips was all that was needed. I stayed out of the way and watched.
Joe Phillips was a tall thin dark haired man, complete with smoker's cough and a salty tongue. I giggled every time the man said "Fuck" and he said it like every three words. "Ayup, looks like the fuckin' wood's rotten. Gonna haf ta replace the fuckin' center support. Gonna be a fuckin' mess."
My dads rolled their eyes at each other and stared at me as if to say, "You are soooo not hearing this. Don't tell Mama." My mama was real strict about cussing and when my daddies said fuck or shit, they had to put a dollar in the jar. Haha! I got to keep all the money. Papa D said 'shit' alllllll the time and Daddy yelled "Fuck me!" when he got mad. When I got a little older, I tried to provoke them so I could get some extra money. It worked real good till they figured it out. Grownups can be kinda dense.
Laying on my tummy through the center of the saggy inner tube swing, my favorite place to hang out, I had watched Mr. Phillips show my dads what needed to be done and but then my attention shifted to the boy who stood by his father. Skinny, tanned brown the color of oak leaves in the fall, just a pair of old worn cutoffs hanging low on his bony hips, tossled brown hair and a straight back, he had his hands shoved in the back pockets of his shorts. I smiled to see that his fingers were poking out through holes in the pockets. He just stood there listening to the grownups, rocking back and forth on the balls of his bare dirty feet. I wondered who the older boy was. He didn't look mean.
"JD, come meet Mr. Phillips and his son," Daddy called, so I slipped out of my resting place to walk over to the porch.
"Mr. Phillips..........Um, Joe. This is our son, JD. JD, Mr. Phillips is going to fix our porch. This is his son, Kenny."
I remember shaking hands with Mr. Phillips and him gripping too tight. Then all I remember from then on was Kenny.
He was very quiet. I learned later that he believed that there was no use in talking unless you had something of value to say and since most people don't listen anyway, why bother. I wanted to hear him talk. I wanted to listen ... so over the years, Kenny talked .... to me.
"Hello," I said shyly. "I'm eight."
He grinned. "Hello, Eight. I'm fifteen."
Hmmm, was he teasing me? I looked up into his round hazel eyes and decided 'No' cause all I saw was smiles.
"Haha.........I'm JD really."
"What's that stand for?"
"Just Dumb."
Kenny wrinkled his forehead. "Nah.......maybe Just Doofy."
That made me giggle. "What's your whole name?"
"Kenneth Deacon Phillips. The Deacon is my Mama's maiden name."
"Huh?"
"Like before she was married, Doofy."
"Oh," I said, feeling stupid.
"Wanna go see the lake?"
Turning to my dads, I pleaded with my eyes. "Go," Daddy said, "Just be careful. Watch him, Kenny."
"I will."
I felt like a baby but I still wanted to go to see the lake with Kenny. I wanted to go anywhere with Kenny. I remember walking around the old cabin, down the pine needled path and out to the ancient dock. The sun reflected off the water and the day was just hotting up. I watched Kenny walk to the end of the dock, stand poised for a second, turn, smile at me and dive smoothly into the clear water.
I ran to the edge of the wooden planks and sighed when his head cleared the sparkling water. Rising up in a spray of sunlight, he shook his head like my dog Fiddlesticks and the drops flashed. "Come on in," he called.
I was embarrassed. He had been ready to jump in while I was still town-dressed. I didn't want to stand right there in front of him and pull my clothes off, showing my stupid pathetic skinny self to someone who was very rapidly becoming a god in my eyes. I shook my head. I didn't even have on cool boxers or anything, just Scooby Doo underwear. I'd die before I'd let him see those!
Looking at me for a minute, he paddled over to the ladder and climbed up.
Sitting down on the end of the dock, he patted the planks next to him. I scrambled to sit by him, not too close but not too far away either. He was wet, nearly naked. My mind was in overload. I was eight. What did I know?
"Can you swim?"
"Yes."
"Then what?"
I ducked my head, squishing my eyes tight as embarrassed tears pushed at my lids.
"Hey ..... hey," he said quietly, "You okay, little guy?"
"Uh huh," I managed to squeak out. "I just ..... I'm not dressed to go swimming."
"So skivvy off, then."
"What?" Did he mean go away?
"Haven't you ever taken your clothes off in front of guys?"
Oh.........."No."
"Well, go to the cabin and get some shorts on. Go!" He grinned at me and whacked my arm, laughing as I jumped up. I left him laughing, the sun dancing along his shiny hair.
I tore into the cabin, scrambled for a pair of jeans, grabbed the fingernail scissors from Papa D's bathroom kit and hacked the jeans off so they hit the middle of my thighs. It was a new pair of $100 Diesel jeans I had begged for but Fuck Me!! (sorry Daddy... dollar) I wanted to look just like Kenny.
The coolest thing we did that summer was find our secret place. It was just a hollow in an old rummy oak tree but when we scooped out all the old squirrel nest leavings and leaves, it was really dry. Just big enough for small objects or secret notes, we laughed and surprised each other with silly little things like a Butterfinger or a shiny lake rock or a scarlet bird feather. Kenny teased me, calling me Boo Radley and when I said "Who?" he rode his bike all the way to town and checked out To Kill a Mockingbird for me from the library. He read it out loud while we sat in an old rowboat under the shade of the willow branches. I wanted to be Scout. He laughed and said I couldn't cause Scout was a girl. I argued that she was the bravest kid in the book. The secret place in the oak tree was thereafter known as Scout's Mailbox.
The rest of that first summer with Kenny is history. I followed him around like a little puppy, getting in the way, asking so many questions, I know he wanted to throttle me, but he was always there. I found the path to his house and I attached myself to him every day. He was 15 and I was 8. He thought I was a little kid and I thought he was God.
**
Over the years, we went back for two weeks every summer. I couldn't wait. I wanted to call Kenny on the phone but I didn't dare. He was like this glowing special person set high on this pedestal that I could just look up at and feel better. Those two weeks became an oasis that helped me through the tough times.
He taught me to be quiet. He taught me to laugh outloud. He didn't laugh when I messed up and he never made fun of me. He was always happy to see me every summer when we drove up and I ran down the path to his house. He always smiled when I tried to keep the tears back as I watched the lake fade from view when we left. I always wanted it to be more than me being a tagalong kid but I never knew what that something more was that I wanted. I felt it but I didn't know what it was.
When I was eleven, we talked about girls. At his superior age of 18, Kenny knew everything about girls. I told him that I tried so hard to think Miranda was cute and that Sally had a pretty smile and even that Annie was getting quite a set of knockers but .......... And he told me to hold on, wait, give it a year or two more before I said the words out loud.
That summer, he gave me the light. He gave it to me to hold on to when I couldn't sleep. "See my light, over on the end of my dock?" he said one night as we sat as usual, swinging our feet at the end of my dock. I cocked my head and peered into the darkness and saw the yellow glow.
"You can't sleep; I know that tumble brain of yours. When it all gets too much, find that light. Ask yourself what I'd do; what I'd tell you. Maybe it'd be the right thing, maybe not. But at least it'll get you thinking."
"But how do I find the light when I'm not here?"
"In your mind, JD. You can always find me in your mind."
When I was 12, I asked Daddy to put a light on the end of our dock. He called the owner and the next day, Joe Phillips came to hook it all up. It ran from a switch at the back door and I turned it on every night so it could talk to Kenny's light on the other side of the lake. Kenny laughed but I think he liked it. I even made up a code: 2 blinks for 'Hi' and 3 blinks for 'Think about me please'. He never made fun of me and I blinked my light 3 times a lot.
When I was 13, I said, "Well, Kenny. It's been a year or two and I still like to look at boys instead of girls." I can remember so well the look on his face, not aversion, not even sadness, just kind of like his whole body went 'hmmph'.
He wasn't disappointed exactly, more like he knew it was coming and backed away.
"You gotta do what ya gotta do, little guy," he said as he whacked the nail into the window frame, talking around the nails in his mouth. "You love who you love; you want what you want. That's the sure thing. You talked to your dads about it?"
It was funny. We'd talked about everything else in the whole world but he'd never asked me why I had two dads or where my mother was. Obviously I had a mother somewhere. Even gay kids aren't found in the cabbage patch.
"No, I haven't told them yet. They know, I think and of course it will be okay but they will be sad because, well, they had lots of trouble when they found out they um ....... loved each other."
"What kind of trouble?" Kenny asked, listening hard.
"Well, Daddy's Papa didn't like it and it made it hard for him and Papa D to be together. It took years for them to finally be happy. They don't want that for me."
"But, if they're gay then what's the real problem?" Kenny always saw right through me.
"I can't talk to them about ummm .... you know," I blushed.
"Oh........gottcha," he smiled. "Yeah, talking about "ummm" to your parents is kinda tough. What ya need to know?"
And that's how it started. I could ask Kenny anything. If he didn't know, he'd find out. He explained all about sex with girls cause that's what he knew about, having 'done it' with all the pretty girls within a 20 mile radius. My dream that he would one day realize he was gay and want me faded slowly away but he was still my best friend. He gave me my first journal that summer. He said I needed to write all that stuff that crashed around in my head before it made me crazy. I wrote all my thoughts; about life, boys, being gay, Kenny.
At school, I was out and I took whatever came my way with my head up, knowing my dads were proud of me but inside, down in that tiny place where you feel proud of yourself .... I didn't. It wasn't really the thought of Kenny that kept me from really looking for some one special. It's just that I couldn't find anyone who wanted to talk just to me and who'd really listen. Like Kenny did for those two weeks every summer.
My 14th year, I discovered summerfire. Kenny and I were just floating in the warm lake, our butts poked into inner tubes, our arms hanging over the edges. He was 21 but it didn't seem weird. I felt right when I was with Kenny. He would push my tube with his toes and I'd spin, laughing, as I tried not to tump over. We watched the storm clouds move over us and to the west. That's when we saw it......summerfire. Now, I know it's heat lightning but the sky explodes. Fireworks and pinwheels and magic. That's when I knew I loved him. I watched his face, those chocolate eyes dancing, long lashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked into the sun. He was still skinny but toned and I wanted to look just like him. We watched the summerfire shoot from one cloud to the next, straight across the sky and I knew life couldn't get any better than this.
"When I see heat lightning, I'll always think of you," he said. And to this day, when I see summerfire, I remember Kenny.
I knew I loved him. Not that stupid 'I want to giggle every time I see him' or 'I want to put his picture under my pillow'. Not that girly stuff. I wanted to be with him, learn from him, just be with Kenny. And right that minute, with the lightning dancing, he looked at me and I knew he somehow felt the same way.
The summer I was 15, my Papa D was real sick and we couldn't go to the lake. I felt horrible for being kinda mad about it. My daddy spent every minute at the hospital sitting by Papa's bed, holding his hand, crying sometimes. I didn't know what to do so I would just sit quietly in the corner and get him coffee every time he asked. I thought about Kenny and wondered what he was working on.
Papa D got better but the pneumonia had left him weak and Daddy said we couldn't go to the lake that summer. I was on my third journal and only the thought that Kenny would see them, read them, kept me going.
I had my first I guess you'd call it 'experience' that lost summer. I thought of it as a lost summer because I didn't see Kenny and I knew that he was getting too old to have me for a friend. I was 15 but he was a man now, 22 years old and too grownup for a kid.
I was on the beach when I met Marcus. I hadn't seen him before so I figured he was a temp, a visitor to this part of my beach. He was 13 and beautiful. I watched him on his board and he saw me watching. The dunes were high and the sun was setting. Does everyone remember their first time? The first time you touch someone else? The first time you realize that you may be able to do it better for yourself but the feel of someone else touching you makes all the difference.
He was sitting on his board in the wet sand when I walked over. We talked the usual nothing talk and he never looked straight in my eyes. Everyone talks about gaydar but mine never seemed to function correctly. I didn't trust it and never acted on it. That night though, that kid might as well have been wearing a blinking neon sign cause I knew ..... I just knew.
God, I was scared but I was older, a big 15, and he was asking for something with those big brown eyes. Something I could give. In the back of my mind, as dumb as it sounds, I was thinking 'This will be something hot for my journal'. Always thinking of Kenny, no matter what I did.
We talked. He liked Japanese manga. I was cool with that. I told him about my dirt bike and he asked me what CDs I liked. Just guys getting to know a little about each other. But, the air, God, the air was so thick I could have cut it with a knife. I just knew.
We leaned against the seawall and no one was there, just us and the sound of the waves. We talked some more and I reached over him to get my sunglasses, just letting my arm brush against his legs. He jumped like I'd used a cattle prod on him.
"Whoa," I laughed.
"You just startled me, you know," he said, the sound low in his throat.
I was so hard. I knew if I touched him, he would be straining against the navy blue of those baggies.
"JD?"
"Yeah?"
"You ever ....?"
"Ever what?" I had to make sure we were on the same page.
"Um, you got a girlfriend?"
"Nah, ... you?"
"Uh Uh."
"Do you ever ..... you know?"
"Not unless you tell me."
He was wiggling now and I thought if I didn't do this, didn't touch him, I'd explode. Right there on the beach; just burst into a trillion bits. I eased my hand over to his leg and let my little finger rest against his erection. I felt it jerk.
**What now, Kenny? I thought crazily. I remembered what he told me. " Ya gotta do what ya gotta do" and I had to laugh, thinking of telling him about this. Somewhere along here, Marcus had kinda rested his head against my shoulder and my hand was right ... there.
"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I asked softly.
He blinked and answered, "A writer ... I love to...............oh," he moaned as my hand reached under the elastic of his baggies and softly gripped him.
"What do you write?" I purred in his ear.
"I ..... I .... Adventures like in spac...................OH!" his voice trailed off as my hand worked a little harder, a little faster.
"Write about this," I whispered then couldn't talk anymore. My mouth open, staring at my hand jerking him off, the huffing sounds coming from him, everything colliding. He came quickly, all over my hand. I came from touching another person. I don't know which one of us said "Oh God" but we both meant it.
I saw him once more before he left but he was with his mom and I just nodded and he nodded back and we smiled. Marcus ..... cool name. I wrote all about it in my journal ......... for Kenny to read.
The summer I turned 16, my dads asked me if I still wanted to go to the lake. I guess they figured I was too old to want to go anywhere with them.
It was always funny about my daddy and my papa. I'd seen how some people treat them, how hatred can be right below the surface and pop up when you least expect it ..... at the grocery store, at a concert, at dinner if they hold hands or God forbid, kiss. I've seen the look in Daddy's eyes when someone makes a nasty comment about fags or queers. It's always been so weird to me cause I grew up with them and all I've ever seen is love and devotion and trust and passion. I can't imagine two people more protective, more inside each other than they are. Do you know what I mean by inside each other? Not physically, though growing up I've heard plenty of noise coming from their bedroom where I assume they are trying to do just that. No, I just mean to be one person.......not knowing where one starts and the other leaves off. They've been together so long now that they finish each other's sentences and do that 'talking without talking' thing. I only hope that one day I can find someone anywhere nearly as perfect as that. They worked hard to get where they are. They deserve to be happy. I love to be with them even when they tease me.
I look just like my daddy. Tall and wiry, my hair is longer of course, flopping in my eyes and curling over my neck but it's the same blond, the same white gold in the sun. I even have his eyes, big and green and full of hope. I have my mama's nose and her full bottom lip. Daddy says I have my grandpa's hands and feet, says I'll be tall like him. I don't know cause I've never met my grandpa. I never bring it up cause it makes my daddy sad. I don't care about him cause if he makes my parents sad, then his loss .....fuck him!
I couldn't wait to get to the cabin ..... to Kenny. I was 16 now. Surely he'd look at me and see who I was. I had my journals and my summer story and I had so many things to ask him. He always had time.
I ran down the path towards his house and hammered on the door. He lived there alone now since his dad had gone to live with his sister in Careyville. I had asked him why he never went to college, why fixing people's houses was enough and he always looked at me like I was JD (just doofy). "I like living just like this. No one hassling me, taking my time, I got no one to answer to but me." He always answered me the same way.
I banged on the door and stepped back when a woman, lady .... No more like a girl, opened it and gave me a funny look. "What?" she said, none too politely.
"I'm .. I'm looking for Kenny."
"He's over at old man Keller's place fixing the water heater," she answered.
I heard a small voice and saw a little boy wander toward the door to peek around the lady's legs.
Curiosity overwhelmed me. Rudely, I asked, "Who are you?"
She gave me a glare and answered, "I'm Angie Phillips. Kenny's wife."
I guess my mouth dropped open. I suppose I looked like an idiot. I felt like a fool. "His what?"
She looked at me like I was retarded and spoke v e r y s l o w l y. "I'm Kenny's wife and this is his boy. Who are you?"
I know it was wrong but I couldn't help it. I ran. I ran all the way home and flung my journals across the room and flung myself on my bed. I was not even trying not to cry. Married? A boy? Where had they been all this time? Why hadn't I known? With all my 16 years of pent up emotion, I cried until the tears turned to hiccups and the hiccups to low moans. When my dads got back from the store, I had cried myself to sleep.
Later that afternoon, I was sitting out on the end of the dock, my usual place to have deep talks with Kenny when I heard him say my name. I didn't want to answer. Yeah, I know .... real grownup. But hey, I was 16 and this hurt like hell.
I felt him sit down beside me. "Hey, kiddo."
I did what any red blooded American gay kid would do. I pouted.
"You gonna talk to me?"
"No."
"Okay, I'll be around if you change your mind." He made to get up.
"No, wait. Kennnnnnnyyyyyyyy !!" I wailed and grabbed his arm. "Who is that? Where did she come from? You have a son? Why didn't you tell me?" All my words were flying in every direction, bouncing off him and ramming into him at the same time.
I felt his arm go around my shoulders and I curled up, just like I had so many times before. "I didn't know either, kiddo. I knew I'd umm ... known her before but she didn't tell me about the child until last fall. She needed help and I had to help her."
"Do you ..... love her, Kenny?" My voice sounded strange. Like it was in a cave, all echoing.
I felt him tighten up. "I got to try, kiddo. She needs me."
"Do you love HIM?" I spit out. God, I was pathetic, jealous of a little kid. Hell, I'm a little kid.
"He's my son, JD. I need to love him. He's a good little guy."
"What about ..........?" Oh, God. I didn't say that, did I?
"Shhhhh. Look at me. I know how you feel. Like a big balloon just burst and you're spinning out of control. Believe me," he sighed, "I know just how you feel. But, this is a good thing. We can still be friends. You're still my best pal. There are things in life that you can't have. Things that make you stronger by not having them."
I didn't know what he meant. Did he know how I felt about him? Duhhh, how could he not know? Were there things he wanted but couldn't have? I was confused.
Daddy and Papa D walked down on to the dock, sitting down by us. Never ones to beat around the bush, Daddy said, "What's up?"
"JD just got a bit of news dropped on him without warning," Kenny said sadly.
"And that would be?" Papa D asked, putting his hand on my arm.
I sniffled, feeling like a dope. "Kenny's married and he has a son." I buried my face in my Papa's chest.
It's funny now when I think back on that afternoon. My daddy and my papa were practically old enough to be Kenny's fathers. But back then, I thought Kenny was as old as they were. Kids don't really think globally. It was like three grownups against one kid ...... me. I swear. If one of them had said anything about puppy love or first crush or crap I would have screamed.
"Hon," Daddy said softly. "Were you expecting something from Kenny?"
"No," I sniffled, "Well, I don't know. Yes, I guess."
"Kenny's 23 years old, JD. He's been your friend for years. He's never made you think that, has he?" Daddy wasn't being threatening. He knew Kenny had always been safe with me. It was years later, when Papa D told me about the look that passed from Kenny to my Dads. The look that made my daddy sigh and my papa hold me tight. The look that said that Kenny would never tell me how he felt. Years later when it no longer made a difference.
I had one more talk with Kenny Phillips before I left the lake that summer.
"Growing up is shit, Kenny."
"Tell me about it, little guy."
"The light? Will it still be there?"
"Always. Always look for the light."
"Kenny, if I'd been older?"
"In a heartbeat."
We left a lot unsaid. I grew up. I grew away from my summers on the lake. They became a distant memory, but I never forgot the one person who always listened .... who always talked to me ... who wanted me but let it slip through his fingers. I vowed never to let a heartbeat stand in my way.
Part II
I graduated from high school. I made 1500 on my SATs and had my choice of colleges. I wanted to stay close by home cause I needed the beach and the quiet and I needed my family close by me. I know a lot of kids are miserable and want to run as far as they can from home as soon as they can. Especially gay kids who have to fight for the right to just breathe in a home without any understanding ….. unconditional love, yeah. But my family's different. I grew up knowing that it doesn't matter who you love as long as you love. I have role models that knock my socks off ( a phrase my Papa uses when Daddy kisses him) Hahaha ! The way they still kiss at their age, I expect those socks to come flying across the room anytime now.
I got a lot of flak when I was a young kid in school cause I lived with my mama and my daddy and my Papa D and Pop. They took turns of course but still it wasn't the traditional arrangement. Whenever I got in a fight or caused a problem (which I did frequently... Cause, well, you know that gay kids are screwed up, right?) one of my parents would come to school. I always wanted it to be Papa D cause he was so beautiful and all the ladies in the office swooned (grandma's word) and they'd usually let me go with a warning. Now, Daddy is very handsome but he's a principal of another high school and he would be mad before he even hit the doors, so I'd get in trouble twice.
Anyway, I went to the local campus of state university and became the man I was supposed to be. I thought about Kenny Phillips a lot at first but then he faded into this fond memory, someone I knew a long time ago who taught me how it felt to be in love
I even thought of Marcus now and then and wondered if he'd found his way, written that story. God, he was beautiful.
I had an apartment off campus and had my share of semi casual sex, meaning I had to know them and have conversations and like them before I would touch or be touched. I didn't go to the clubs or bars. I knew if I ever found someone who loved me like Daddy and Papa D love each other, it wouldn't be there.
I remember "The Talk" I finally had with my dads. After the summer of 16, as I call it, I was totally dumbstruck as to who I was or what I thought anymore. I really thought I would love Kenny forever, that my heart was broken.
Finally, the three of us were sitting out on the log by the small bonfire on the sand and Daddy started to talk. He talked about the house behind us. The house he and Papa D had dreamed of by the water. He told me how much it meant to him to have Papa D with him for the rest of their lives.
I asked him kinda timid like if sex goes away after you get old, like over 30.
Papa D choked on his beer and said, "I'll let you field that one, J."
Daddy smiled and said, "Definitely not, JD. It gets better. If you love someone, that feeling of wanting to be close never goes away."
I got braver. "Daddy, what about, you know ...... sex sex?"
He looked at me for a minute and said, "Hon, some men can live without it and some men can't. It all depends on you and what you want."
"What about you and Papa?" I hid my eyes.
Papa D said softly, "To me, it's part of your Daddy. I need it to feel part of him. I wouldn't want to be without it or him." I could feel them getting all mushy. I knew it wouldn't be long before they made some excuse like gotta check on something. I swear my dads are too old for that. Aren't they?
"I need to check on that download I left going on the computer," Papa D said.
"Well, you might need some help with that," Daddy laughed.
See? You know, if grown men can giggle, my dads do all the time. It's totally gross but I guess I love them anyway.
Graduation from college brought me to a crossroad. I had this piece of paper that said I could be a businessman. I could go to an office everyday in a coat and tie and push papers around and come home every night whacked out. Or……………, I could start my own business and do what I loved. I didn't want to teach like my daddy and mama and Pop or be a caregiver like Papa D. I wanted to be around the water and work on the boats and surfboards.
I talked to my dads and at first they were upset, said I was wasting myself, but I remembered what Kenny said, "No one hassling me, taking my time. I got no one to answer to but me". And you know, the sound of the surf at night and the way the moon dances over the water, tripping and giggling; it's all worth it. All I needed was someone to love. Kenny would have understood. He always did.
I started out waxing and cleaning the boards and finally bought the shop when Ricky decided to move to Florida. It was a good life, no one hassling me. I read a lot and wrote in my journals. Yeah, I kept them up, somewhere in the back of my mind thinking that one day Kenny'd read them.
I met Kelly by the hotdog stand there at Wrightsville. I know, not very romantic but then life kinda laughs a lot. He couldn't get the mustard to squirt out and I reached over and gave it a whack of the side of the cart.
It then splashed all over my shirt. So much for impressing a cute guy.
We talked and laughed and found we had a lot in common. He asked what I did and I told him I mended surfboards. I didn't tell him I owned the shop. He said he was a lawyer and worked downtown Atlanta, over here for a court case that ended the next day.
I guess I was lonely. I guess he thought I was a cute beach bum. Whatever, we had three very good days and three excellent nights. There was no talk of seeing each other again or happily ever after. It wasn't what I wanted in my heart but it served its purpose.
After Kelly left, for some reason, I kept seeing brown eyes in my head. Kenny's voice spoke to me through past curtains of time. "In a heartbeat," I could just hear him whisper. God, I wanted that heartbeat.
Mama got married and had my stepsister, she thought she would lose Daddy but it never happened. It's like no matter how big our family grows, there's always room for someone new. Not just Mama and Daddy and Papa D and Pop and Nickie, but Easy and Val and their three kids. I miss Grandpa Nic but I know he's with Sam and he's happy. I remember when Easy brought Gabe home for the first time. I wanted so much to find my someone new and bring them home. Is it this hard for a gay man to find someone who wants to love him? Sometimes I feel like life is passing me by.
Can you tell I think too much and analyze something way past death? I try to be like the magazine articles tell you, you know, stress free, practice Yoga, but when I'm surfing, running, exercising, getting that adrenalin rush, I'm still thinking. I wish I was one of those people who never thinks.
Anyway, we're sitting out on the logs by the fire and suddenly the sky lights up. "Heat lightning," Daddy said.
"Summerfire," I murmured. I watched the red glow and the sparks of light shoot from one cloud to play off another and knew where I needed to go. I needed to see Kenny. I watched the summerfire and remembered what he'd said, "I'll always think of you when I see it." Right back at ya, Kenny.
I was 25, a grown man and felt like that same little kid that had fallen to pieces that summer of 16 as I drove down the dirt road that led to the cabins. No one had been back here in ten years. It was amazing how small everything looked, sort of dilapidated and old. All I had ever seen here was Kenny and he had made the world glow.
Turning back into that shy doofy kid, I suddenly realized that he might not even remember me or even worse, remember but not care. I walked over to the little takeout store and opened the sagging screen door.
Same old store, nothing had changed. Dusty and smelling of pickles and fish bait and beer. Even old Mr. Freedlich still sat behind the counter, watching that same old black and white tv with lines of static rolling. He did look older but once you get to 110, how do people really tell?
"Mr. Freedlich?"
"Ayup? What kin I do ya for?"
Same silly question. Time seemed to have stood still. I was back in my cut offs running to catch up with Kenny.
"Do the Phillips still live in the cabin down by the inlet?"
"Ayup. Some do, some don't."
Same weird answers. I guess Mr. Freedlich will always be here.
I decided to take the path and walked through the pines, memories rushing at me from every direction. Sensory overload.
"JD ........ come see this robin's nest that fell out of the tree."
"Kenny. Stop teasing me. Where are you?"
"Smell that? That's what rain smells like."
"You scared of a little worm, Doof boy?"
"When I see summerfire, I'll always think of you."
I don't know why the tears. I guess it was just too much to keep inside.
I walked up on the porch and knocked on the door. I could hear sounds inside and waited for Kenny to smile at me.
"May I help you?"
I saw the girl that had shattered my boyish dreams ten years ago. She wasn't young anymore. Time had danced tragically on her face and in her heart. She had a small child clinging to her jeans and another perched on her hip. She couldn't be more than 33 but she looked much older. Tired of life somehow.
"I ... I was looking for Kenny .. Kenny Phillips," I stammered stupidly.
"Don't I know you?" she peered through the screen.
"I was a friend of Kenny's about ten years back and I was passing through and wanted to say Hi."
"Oh ....," she sighed, "I remember you. At least, I remember Ken talking about you."
He talked about me, I thought. My little boy heart smiled.
"Where is he? Working on pipes or someone's floor? I just wanted to say Hi and be on my way."
She stepped out onto the porch and looked at me sadly. "Sugar, Kenny died last year. He was sawing lumber and well, there was an accident. He was gone right off. No pain."
What?
What?
What?
No.
Not Kenny. Bigger than life. So high on a pedestal I got nose bleed just looking. My God! I just wanted to say Hi.
In my brain, the part still functioning, I thought frantically, if I hadn't come, he wouldn't be dead. I needed to talk to him. I needed to tell him. I needed ........ I needed Kenny.
I heard a truck roll to a stop behind us and the murmur of voices.
".......a friend of Kenny's."
"Get him a soda."
I felt someone push me gently into the rocker there by the door.
"I'll be okay. I'm okay," I repeated as I rocked.
"This is my husband Frankie."
The big gruff man stuck out his hand and I took it automatically. "JD," I said softly.
"Kenny and I split up years ago. I've still got some of his stuff. You want it?" she asked.
She brought out a box and I saw one of my journals lying at the bottom. Reaching in, I grasped it and ran my fingers over the black and white design.
"JD Year of Hell Age 14" I remember handing it him and his snort of laughter at the title. Opening the cover, he had written something on the inside. I choked back a sob as I read the words, "In a heartbeat".
So many things left unanswered. Was he? Would I have? Did we? Would I ever find summerfire again?
I excused myself and, holding the journal, I walked down to the lake. The old dock was still there, weathered and worn, nails poking up and boards warped. 'Kenny needs to fix it,' I thought sadly.
I sat down to find that my toes could reach the water like his used to do. I sat there til dusk, holding that book, remembering. Knowing now that I'd never have what I'd always dreamed of. As the sky turned to gray and the lightning bugs began to blink, I searched the darkness on the other side of the lake for my link to Kenny's heart, my light in the dark to keep me from being afraid, but the light was gone.
"I need to talk to you, Kenny," I spoke softly, tears running down my cheeks as I mourned for what I'd lost. It wasn't lost love; it was lost faith, I think. Love faith in someone to always be there. How could it be lost love? A boy can't be in love with a man. How can men be in love with each other? No man would ever love the boy in me. "Kenny, I need to talk to you right now". I needed the light but the light was gone.
I drove through the night and stayed quiet for days. I laid the journal on the table by my bed. I never opened it. I already knew what it said. I did hang a light on the corner of my porch ..... I suppose so Kenny could find me if he looked.
My Daddy came to find me, to see what was wrong. I broke down and cried in his arms like a child. A blond man holding a blond man; one crying for faith and light that was lost and one simply crying because he loved his child.
He told Papa D because every night when I came home from the shop, my light was on, glowing on the corner of my porch roof. It was their way, I guess of saying, 'It's okay, baby. We love you. We understand better than you know'.
They sat with me out on the sand, our favorite place to talk. "I hate being grownup," I sighed. "Nothing feels right anymore."
"Was it easier being 16?" Daddy asked.
"God, no."
"It's just another step," Papa D told me. "When your Daddy and I were 25, we had been together for 10 years. In all that time, there was love. You'll find your love. You have to wait."
"But you knew at 16," I argued. "I'm way past that." I knew I was still childlike in some ways, good ways I hoped. I still called my dads Daddy and Papa D. I always would. That's cause they never pushed me away or made me push them. I would choke on the words 'Father' or 'Dad'. They had been the center of my life, they were what I wanted and what I couldn't find.
"When you were 16, Daddy, did you know you loved Papa D?"
"Yes. The first time I saw him smile, I knew."
"And you, Papa D?" I knew this story by heart but I wanted to hear it.
"Yes, JD. Your Daddy fixed me. I was broken and he mended me. It took years, me confused and fighting, but your Daddy never gave up on me. I knew when I was 16. I knew the first time I saw his face."
See? See why I know that I can find someone to love me? I have these two men to show me the way. If I stay alone all my life it will be because I haven't found what they have. I hope not. I want that heartbeat.
Part III
My shop did heavy business in the summer and in the winter I kicked back and took classes at the local campus. I even taught a class in modern American literature at night. Some people probably think I waste my talents but 'No hassles, taking my time. No one to answer to but me'. I even crafted a wooden plaque that hung by my front door with those words carved.
I found that I had a talent for carving and taught summer kids how to craft seabirds from driftwood. My pieces became popular and I even made a little money selling to tourists who wanted to remember their vacation.
I still found an occasional warm body to ease away the nights but I was always easy to let it go and most of them were friends that surfed the same waves I did.
The spring of my 29th year, my Daddy had a mild heart attack. It scared the shit out us all. He worked so hard to make his high school the best in the state and all that care had worn him out. Papa D nearly spazzed and waited on him hand and foot until Daddy wanted to kill him. When we went to bring him home from the hospital and the pink lady wheeled Daddy out to the car in that wheelchair, the look on Papa D's face was pitiful. Daddy insisted on getting out of it at the door so Papa D could see him walk. I guess wheelchairs aren't Papa D's favorite thing.
Mama decided that we all needed a break. I totally agreed and Papa D came up with the idea of going back to the lake. So, the summer of 29 became the summer we went back in time. I was actually excited to go back. The pain of losing Kenny had turned into a bittersweet memory and he was like this guidepost for me now.
Pop couldn't get off that week but Mama, Daddy, Papa D, Nickie, that's my stepsister, her friend Carrie and I all trucked up to the lake. I loved it; this feeling of going back in time, back to being that doofy little kid that didn't know from squat.
Nickie had never been and was all over me to show Carrie and her how to paddle a canoe and other woodsy stuff. We were beach kids; what did she know from trees? I remembered everything Kenny had taught me. It was all coming back in a rush as the Cherokee rumbled down the dirt roads toward the cabin. Papa D had made sure that we rented the same one we always had. The realtor promised it had been fixed up not two years ago.
Driving into the front yard, I expected to see Joe Phillips talking to my dads there on the front porch and a tall skinny kid standing beside him, hands poked in his back pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet. I looked for the tire swing but it was long gone. I guess time is a thief.......it steals what you love but memories hold them for you till you're ready to let them go.
We had a great weekend. We gutted the fish we caught, laughing at Nickie who wouldn't even touch the guts, but she sure could put away the fish. Mama cooked on the big grill outback. Papa D made the best potato salad and Daddy disappeared to wander back with an armload of wild flowers for the table. I caught him handing one to Papa D along with a kiss. I watched Papa D touch Daddy's cheek and they whispered something only they could hear.
We sat on the end of the dock that night and Daddy sat close to me, his arm across my shoulders. "It's seems like yesterday," he sighed, knowing I was thinking of the last time we sat there together. My Daddy always seemed to know what I was thinking. Why are gay men able to do that? Why do we always know what people we love are trying to say or trying not to say?
"He was good for you, you know. He taught you to hold tight to your dreams. I thank Kenny for that," he said softly. I just sat with him quietly, my head on his shoulder.
As I watched the moonlight bounce across the ripples of black water, I saw Kenny's light. It was glowing from the end of his dock. I smiled.
"I guess someone bought the old cabin," Daddy said when he saw where I was looking. I had asked Mr. Freedlich at the store if Mrs. Phillips still lived at the cabin. He told me they had moved away to look for work in Charlotte.
"I guess. It seems weird to see the light after all this time." I thought about my light on my porch at home. I glanced up at the light on the end of our dock. There was no light bulb and spiders had spun webs all over the grill work.
The week flew by, laughter and fun, quiet times and rest for Daddy. He hated that we were pampering him but too bad. He was loved too much to do anything else.
I walked up to the store to make a quick phone call and then helped everyone pack their gear in the car for the trip home Saturday morning.
"I'm not going home yet," I said quietly.
Mama started to fuss but Daddy shushed her. "We'll drive back up and bring you the car. How long are you staying?"
"I called and I can have the cabin for all of next week."
"Why?" Mama asked.
"I just need, I don't know, I just need to be here for awhile."
I stood watching the tail lights and then listening to the silence. I had always loved being here without tv or radio or music. Just the quiet. I already missed my family but there was just something about being here that made me need to stay. I don't know if it was the light.
I spent Sunday lying in the hammock I'd hung between two oak trees, just drifting and reading. The sky started pure blue but hazed over as the day grew long. I could feel a change in the atmosphere and reckoned that I might see a little rain by the morning.
That evening, I sat out in my usual spot on the end of the dock and watched the sky go red. I knew what was coming. I just knew it. When the first one crackled, I smiled. By the third, I was laughing out loud. "Damn, Kenny .... Show me that summerfire!" I yelled to the lake and to my lost friend.
The rain fell all through the night and the next morning I found puddles on the cabin floor where the roof had leaked. I ate some Cheerios and trooped down to the store to call the realtor. He told me he'd have some one up today to see to repairing the leaks. I mopped up the water and tipped the rain out of the hammock, undoing it and throwing it over the railing of the back porch to dry. The storm had disappeared as quickly as it had come and the air was clean and fresh.
I fished for a couple of hours in the dingy and came back to clean the two fish I'd caught for lunch. I'd cleaned up and was just going to see if my hammock was dry when I heard a tap on the front door.
My mind had trouble with this. I know I wanted it so bad I could taste it but he could NOT be standing there, looking at me through the screen door. I wanted to cry and laugh and run all at the same time.
"Kenny?" I whispered, knowing it couldn't be but hoping somehow it was, my heart pounding. There he stood, same as ever, tall lanky Kenny with the brown curly hair, the sunkissed skin the color of autumn leaves and the ragged cutoffs, his bare feet planted firmly on the porch.
"Hi. You needed your roof patched?" he said in that same soft Kenny voice.
I know I looked like an idiot, standing there not even knowing if I needed my roof patched or what.
Finally, I had to say it. "Who ARE you?"
"Deacon. I'm here to patch your roof".
Ohh My God! My hand over my mouth, I just stared. It was as if Kenny spit him out. This had to be Kenny's son, the one who had hidden behind his mama's leg when I found out about them both the summer I was 16.
"You're Kenny's son?"
"Yes. Kenny was my dad. He's dead like going on five years now. Did you know my dad?"
"Yes, he was my friend here in the summers when I was growing up."
Something suddenly seemed to click behind the boy's eyes. "Are you JD?"
You don't know how much that pleased me to hear him say that. It meant that Kenny had said something about me, talked about me a little. He hadn't forgotten.
"Yes. JD," I said and held out my hand to Kenny's son. I'd like to say that lightning bolts shot through our hands and a chorus of angels started singing and we fell to the floor in reckless abandon ....... but well, I can't. What I did feel was warmth and softness and maybe a hand held a little too long.
I had to think this through. Remember me? The one who analyzes to death until there's nothing left think about. Standing right in front of me is the one person I've wanted all my life, but not.
"Deacon, is it?"
"Yeah. So, you want me to start now?"
"Sure. You need help?"
"Nah, I been doing this for like ever."
"You take after your dad then?"
"Yeah, I guess." And then he said the funniest thing. "I like it. I got no one hassling me. I take my time. I got no................" I blended my voice with his, "one to answer to but me."
We looked at each other and slow grins began to surface. When Deacon smiled, his face took on its own life. Kenny was there but Deacon was as well.
"You DID know my dad, huh?" he laughed.
"Yeah, he taught me a lot."
"Maybe you could tell me some stuff about him sometime." He looked straight into my eyes, those brown eyes searching for what I wasn't sure.
I left him to his work but damn, I counted every hammer whack and listened so hard in case he called that I almost fell out of the hammock. I wanted to go sit on in the front yard and watch him work but ick !
"I think I got them all," his voice called from across the back yard. "You call me if you get anymore leaks, okay?" He didn't come across the yard and I didn't get up.
"How much do I owe you?" I asked.
"You? Nada. Mr. Greeley pays me to upkeep the cabins."
I knew I wasn't gonna play the "Oh Gee, something's wrong with my sink game" just to get him to come back and I knew I wanted him to come back.
I wasn't asking myself why. That would come later when I sat up all night over analyzing. "I'd really like to talk to you about your dad when you have a chance. He meant a lot to me and I, well, truth, I kinda need to talk about him."
Deacon stood still for a minute and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. I shut my eyes. "Sure," he finally answered, as if he was making some huge decision.
"You living in your dad's old house?"
"Yeah, I work for Mr. Greeley and he lets me pay it off a little at a time."
"You want to come over for a hamburger tomorrow around 6?"
"That'd be cool. I'll see ya, um........JD". He stared at me for a minute as if he wanted to say something else but then turned on his heel and was gone. I heard the truck skitter down the dirt road and 15 minutes later I saw the light come on at the end of Kenn..........Deacon's dock.
I sat for a long time that night on the end of the dock, but this time I watched the light at the end of Deacon's dock. I don't know what I was looking for but it made me smile.
The next afternoon, I was irritated with myself for even considering that I had seen anything in his eyes other than someone's roof to fix. I didn't even know how old he was and here I was mooning around like I was 16 again. How much was Kenny and how much was Deacon?
Right at 6, I heard the truck growl to a stop out the front door. I called to him to come in when I heard the tap on the door. He let the screen door slam behind him as he carried in a bowl of pasta salad.
"You didn't need to bring anything," I protested with a big grin on my face.
He had cleaned up real good. I mean REAL good. Gone were the cutoffs and ripped t-shirt. He had on chinos and a red button down shirt that made his hair shimmer.
I have to tell you that I kinda scrabbled around finding something good to wear too. I didn't bring much with me but I did have clean jeans and a green t-shirt that Nickie says makes my eyes all emeraldy. Ha!
"I wanted to. I like to cook and I don't have anyone to cook for," he smiled.
We both looked at everything except each other and I finished patting out the hamburgers and setting the mustard, ketchup........well, you know the drill.
"Wanna eat out back? I don't think we're gonna see anymore rain."
"Sure," he said. "I'll carry the stuff out for you."
We worked in companionable silence to get the food to the little wooden picnic table out the back door. I had the coals just right and the burgers cooked really quick.
"You want a beer?"
"Sure. Thanks. Let me get em, K?"
The burgers were perfect, the pasta salad was great, the beer was cold, Deacon was funny and cute and smart and interesting and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. God doesn't give anyone two chances like this. I was 28 years old, 29 in two months. I needed to get a grip. This was just two guys eating food because one of them knew the other one's father. Right?
"So," I asked very suavely, yeah right, "You go to school?" God, did I ask that?
Deacon looked at me and crossed his eyes. Really!! The brat crossed those chocolate eyes and made this silly face. "Haha! Yeah, I'm in junior high.."
"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I'm not good at finding out stuff."
He smiled and everything went out the window. "I'll be 19 in three months.
Is that what you wanted to know?"
"Yes."
"JD?"
"Yeah?"
"What does that stand for?"
"Just Dumb," I answered quickly, just like I did when I was small.
"No, really," he asked again. There was something in his eyes, in his voice. I was all off kilter.
"Is it important?"
"Yeah. I think so."
"Joshua Daniel. I can't use either name, so my dads shortened it to JD."
"Why can't you use your names?" The light was softening and the sun was starting to make its nightly rainbow across the lake.
"Josh was my daddy's brother's name and it hurts too much to call me that. He thought he could but he couldn't. Daniel is my Papa D's name and well, there can't be two Dannys."
"Can I call you Josh?"
"Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe its cause no one else does."
"Sure, I guess. If I don't answer, yell doofus." I know it's stupid but he could have called me trashcan right then and I would have just grinned. Is he just the friendliest guy in the world or is he flirting? I told you how my gaydar totally sucks and I never use it or trust it.
"So, tell me about my dad. How were you two friends?"
This turned into a couple of hours of laughing at dumb little JD and all the stuff he didn't know. How Kenny had showed me how to make a fire and how to catch worms and pee in a high arc over the wall and how to put cards on the spokes of my bike.
"I wish I'd known him then before he got all quiet and sad."
"He had some hard knocks," I said softly.
"He talked about you a lot. He missed you, I think."
"I missed him.........more than I can ever really say. He helped me grow up. Deacon, for what it's worth, I loved your dad. He was special."
"I wish......"
"What do you wish?"
He lowered his head and stared at his hands. "I better go. I've got lots of work to do tomorrow." He stood up quickly and started to clear the table.
"Don't bother with this. I'll get it later."
"Thanks for the burger. It was great," he mumbled and turned to go.
"Deacon?" He turned back to me. Please God, let me get this right. "Do you know the light at the end of your dock?"
"Uh huh."
"Your dad told me to always look for the light. When it all got too much to look for the light. I've done it all my life. See my light at the end of my dock? When you want to wish or when your mind gets all tumbled around, look at the light."
He rushed at me and hugged me so tight for one second and then ran. I don't know if I scared him or secured him. I was only trying to do what Kenny did, make the bad things go away. I don't know what Deacon's bad things are but I won't make the same mistakes Kenny made with me.
I didn't see him for two days and then it was only at the store.
"Hey."
"Hi there. I sure enjoyed the company the other night."
"Josh," he said softly. "It's not that I don't want to come back but......"
"I understand. It's totally fine." I had no clue but he looked upset.
"No, I don't think you do."
"You want to tell me?"
"No."
"Well, if you change your mind, there's cold beer in the fridge."
I didn't know what else to say. I don't know what he wanted to tell me or not tell me. I can be absolutely clueless at best.
I was set to leave on Saturday and Friday afternoon I spent cleaning up and thinking. I kept counting on my fingers like a child: 18,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29.......19 in three months, 29 in two months. It was like this mantra spinning around in my head. It was too much, it was years, it was minutes...........it was......it was Deacon. I had to let it go.
I'd go home and watch the light on my porch and hope he was all right.
It was all so stupid. He wasn't even gay. If I said that, he'd go running off screaming into the night. He needed a friend, just like, no, not just like me, but he needed a friend. I didn't know if I could do that. There was too much I might want, too much to lose. Better to go home and polish some more boards. Yep...No one hassling me, taking my time. No one to answer to but me. That's all there is.
Friday evening just as the sun was lowering, I heard his truck pull up. He knocked on the front door and I called to him to come outback to the dock. I felt him stand behind me for a minute and then settle down near, but not too near.
"You leaving?"
"Yes, tomorrow morning. I've gotta get back."
The sky was a hazy red. The heat was heavy, the smell of jasmine strong in the air. Whenever I think of those nights at the lake, I always smell the jasmine. I turned my head to look at Deacon and I saw it. 'Not now', I groaned. 'Let me get gone'. But no one ever said the gods are kind. The heat lightning lit the sky, crackling across the clouds like some kind of warrior king brandishing his sword.
"Fireworks, pinwheels and magic," I murmured.
"Summerfire," Deacon sighed.
I realized that I had been 14 the summer I saw it for the first time with Kenny. He had been 21 and I loved him. Loved him with the purest, bravest, most innocent heart.
"Josh?" he sighed.
"Yes?"
"Come back."
He reached out his hand and touched my face. I stared at him and got the answer I had been searching for. Can it happen this quickly? As quickly as the heat lightning shoots from one cloud to the next?
"I will," I heard myself say. "Watch for the light."
I wanted to say more, do more but it wasn't the time. I needed to think. He needed to think. Time changes things. We all know that. Doubts, fears, they creep in and cloud everything. We needed to think before something happened that couldn't be undone.
He walked away, up the dock. I heard the truck pull out and I knew I'd be back. Not for Kenny. He was gone. I'd be back for Deacon.
Part IV
The drive back was insane. I kicked myself from the coast and back. I was too old. He was too young. I was in love with a ghost. He wanted his father. What was I thinking? Was I thinking at all?
I saw my porch light shining and knew my dads had walked over and turned it on to guide me home. My dads. I needed to talk to them. I'd never been so glad I had them in my life. What if I had no one to talk to, no one who cared? I carried my junk inside and opened all the windows to air the place out. I walked down to the shop and checked to see that Johnny had everything under control and then walked along the beach collecting every thought I could find.
I'd always been different. I'd always been proud of my family and sometimes proud of myself but I wanted this. I wanted this really badly. It felt right.
How could I, the world's most hesitant person, be so sure about this?
Finally, I turned my feet towards the big house. I could see them through the big picture window, dancing to a slow melody coming from the CD player. My Daddy always says he's making up dance time with Papa D for all the dances they missed. I want love like that. I want to dance like that.
"Hi Pops," I said as interrupted their dance. I knew they wouldn't mind; they had plenty more ahead. Papa D kissed Daddy and they opened their arms to hug me.
"Have a good time?"
"Yeah. I need to talk."
Daddy looked over my head at Papa D. "Both of you," I sighed.
"Uh oh.....BIG problem," Papa D smiled. "He needs two opinions."
"I kinda met someone."
"This week? At the lake?"
"Yeah ...... but it's like I've always known him or something."
We walked out to the beach to sit on the "talking log". Our most serious discussions always took place right here. "Okay, JD. Spill."
"Don't yell till you hear the whole thing," I cautioned.
"Do we ever yell?" Papa D laughed, as I gave him a dirty look.
"Well, start talking, son. I'll keep him quiet," Daddy crooked his eyebrow at Papa D.
"My roof leaked and someone came to fix it."
"And that someone would be........?"
"Deacon," I sighed.
"Ahhh. We have a name."
"But, it's not as simple as that," I cringed. "Deacon is Kenny's son." I waited for the angry words.
Instead, Daddy said softly, "Kenny's boy? How old is he now?"
"He's 18, gonna be 19 in two months. It's wrong, I know it's wrong. I don't know what to do.....what to think."
"Does he care about you?"
I hadn't put it into words in my head yet and it felt scary to say out loud but, "I think he might."
"Is this about Kenny, JD?"
"I thought so at first, when I first saw him but when Deacon smiles, when he laughs, the way he looks at everything, the way he makes me feel........" I stopped to catch my breath, "No, he's just Deacon."
"What do you want from him? What Kenny took from you?"
"What do you mean, Papa D?"
"Honey, Kenny stole your choices. He didn't have faith in himself, so he took the easy way out."
What was Papa D saying? "Explain please," I asked.
"Years ago, when we were all sitting on that dock and you were crying your eyes out because Kenny had married and had a child, he told us how he felt. He never said a word but it was all there on his face. You didn't see the way he hurt and we didn't tell you. It was better you never knew."
"Knew what, Daddy?"
"How much he cared for you. He would never have told you and you've spent years searching for what he promised but never gave you."
"But he wasn't gay!"
"Yes, he was. In his heart he was but he didn't have the strength to say it and you were too young to understand."
Too young.........there we are.
"So, I need to step back, right? I was too young, Deacon is too young." I felt the tears scalding my eyes.
"JD, you had just turned 16. Deacon is almost 19. That's a big difference. He's out of school and on his own. I think you've got a lot to talk about."
A lot to talk about ! We hadn't even said anything. He probably thinks I'm some kind of insane fool babbling about lights and fireworks and jasmine.
"You going back?"
"Should I?"
"Your decision. We raised you. You choose your life. We'll always support you."
"Talk to him, JD. Say what you think. Have you forgotten what goes on in a 19 year old head?" Papa D giggled, yeah at his age, the man still giggles, "Is he hot?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes. They'd never change.
I needed Prozac, Xanax....one of those pills that makes you all fuzzy where you don't think. But the more I fought not thinking, the more I thought. You know how that goes, right? By Wednesday, I was a wreck. Like he hadn't been right there for years but I had to take care of this in the next day or so.
A call to the realtor and I had the cabin for the weekend. I packed enough food for an army and waited till time to close up the shop and get one more reassuring hug from my dads.
"Just talk, JD. That's the only way it works. If you want something from this, don't jump in half cocked."
"Good Lord!" I rolled my eyes at the bad choice of words. "He may not even be on the same page, Daddy."
"That's why talking would be very wise, don't ya think?" he answered, his tongue in his cheek, giving me the "Don't be stupid" look.
As I drove away headed toward the lake, I could see them standing on the front porch, arms around each other. Like I had always known them...like they always would be.
Part V
I got to the lake late, the five hour drive a nonstop. Stiff, I stepped out of the car and stretched my arms up and back behind my head feeling the tight muscles loosen. I had thought and thought about how to contact Deacon with no phones, did he have a cell? And I wondered if he even really wanted me to come back. He probably regretted saying anything.
I unpacked the food and left the rest for morning. All I wanted to do was know whether he wanted to see me again. I was like this little kid that had to get up for 'show&tell' and was scared to death of what someone would say. My "show&tell" was totally exposing my feelings, risking that I would get laughed at or yelled at or who knows what.
I decided to leave it totally up to Deacon. If he wanted to see me, he could. I walked down to the end of the dock and saw nothing but blackness across the water. Here goes nothing. I flipped the switch and my light glowed yellow across the dark water.
I turned to go back to the house when I caught the flash of an answering light from across the way. Then, I laughed out loud as the answering light blinked on and off 3 times. "Hi, Deacon." I whispered.
Let's see........15 minutes around the lake......that would be how many minutes? I sat down on the end of the dock, waiting for the rumble of that old white truck, smiling, almost giddy, when I heard it like 8 minutes later.
"Hi, Josh." He settled by my side, not on me but near.
"Hey, Deacon." I liked just saying his name.
"So........you came back?"
"Haha ! No."
"Shut up!" he slapped at my arm and I laughed at his response.
"You asked me to."
His face fell. "You didn't want to?"
God, yes, I thought. "You asked," I repeated.
His eyes twinkled. "So, you'd do whatever I asked?"
"Depends," I answered, watching how his nose crinkled up when he grinned.
"I won't run naked through the streets of Wilmington; I won't eat live slugs; I won't vote Conservative; I won't............."
"Okay, okay," he laughed.
"But," I said softly, "I will come when you ask." He leaned into my arm and I just naturally slipped it around his shoulders. We sat quietly for a few minutes watching the tiny white moths circling the yellow light, crashing into the hot bulb and frying themselves in their search for the sun.
"I talked to your light," he murmured.
"What did you say? Did you wish like you wanted to?"
"Yes."
"Am I going to have to hold you upside down and shake it out of you?" I teased.
"No." He snuggled closer on this warm summer night and let out a deep sigh that must have been inside him for years.
"Can feelings happen this fast, Josh?"
"What feelings, Deacon?" I was pretty sure I knew but I needed to hear him say it. I really needed that.
"I," he stumbled, "I want to like you. I want to be with you. I couldn't stop thinking about you all week."
God, this was painful. "Like me how, Deacon?"
"I know you think I'm a kid, but I'm not."
"I don't think you're a kid. I think you're a beautiful young man." Lord, was that the right thing to say? I can't believe I'm playing Kenny's part now. I didn't want this to turn out the way it had all those years ago.
"I like you, Josh. You know, like you."
Okay, JD, take control of this conversation. "Are you trying to say you're gay, Deacon?" You have to remember that both of us are walking on unfamiliar ground here and any form of subtlety or coolness was flying out the window.
"Your dad told me something when I was 14, Deacon. When I told him I had tried to like girls and it wasn't working, he said, 'You love who you love; you want what you want.' I've always thought that was true."
The words seemed to settle Deacon down. He sighed and I could tell he was thinking hard.
"Josh?"
"Mmm?" It seemed so natural for him to be inside the circle of my arm.
"Have you had lots of......you know.......lovers?"
I sat quietly for a minute, sounding out my words. "No, I've never had a lover."
He turned, wide eyed, staring at me. "You mean you've never......?"
"Yeah, I have but I've never been in love with anyone." I could feel him glowing and it made me smile.
"Tell me about loving someone, Josh."
I thought about my dads and what they have. I thought about Kenny and what I had felt for him. I thought about the warm bodies I'd enjoyed and finally I said, "Loving someone is opening your heart; risking hurt; risking everything. Giving someone the power to hurt you and praying that they never do. My dads' love like that."
"What about my dad?"
"I loved him the way a puppy loves his boy, I guess. I followed him everywhere. I had him on a pedestal so high, I got nosebleed from looking up.
But love like my dads have, I've never had that."
"Do you want it, Josh?" His voice was soft and his arms slid around me.
Truth time. "Oh yes, I want that. I've wanted it since I was 8 years old and knew what it felt like to dream."
I felt him move and he turned to face me, his hands resting on the old wooden planks on either side of me. Almost as tall as me, his chocolate eyes tried to read what I was thinking.
"Do you trust me, Deacon?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I know you're good and kind and funny and everything I've ever wanted."
No more words. I slid my hands to his back and pulled him to me so I could find his mouth. God, he tasted like peppermint, soda and Deacon, just like I knew he would. I felt his lips press against mine and his hands grab my shirt trying to get closer. I opened my eyes and found his brown ones staring at me.
Laughing, I pushed at him. "What ARE you doing?"
"Looking at you kissing me," he smiled.
"Well, close them for a minute. You can look at me all you want in awhile."
He sassily closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, waiting. I looked at his face, eyelashes lying on flushed cheeks, the corners of his lips curved into a soft smile......waiting for me. "Kiss me," he sighed.
I wrapped him up in my arms and we sat in the warm night air, kissing and whispering and giggle-licking; trying to get to know each other; trying to see where this would lead.
Propping my legs up, he leaned against my thighs, spread all over me, trying to ease his breathing. I found the little curls at the back of his neck and twirled them lazily around my fingers.
"Josh, I want..........," he started, running his fingers down my chest.
"No more than I do, lil one."
"Then.......?" He turned those big brown eyes up to capture mine.
There was lots of "hard evidence" that we were talking about the same wanting, but my body was warring with my mind. You know exactly what my body was yelling in my ear, but my mind, my conscience, that little guy with the halo, who perches on your shoulder and whispers, 'Think' was definitely whispering 'Go slow, JD. Make sure'. I tried to collect the right words.
"I want to get to know you, Deacon. I don't want to start at the Finish Line and go backwards."
"Oh....," he frowned and then that beautiful smile broke across his face. "You mean...........?"
Papa D told me to talk to him. Struggling with the words, I said, "I've been searching for something for a few years. I want to think maybe I've found it."
His eyes dropped and then when I tucked under his chin with my finger and raised his face, I saw shimmers of tears. "Okay, Josh. I like that. But you do know that I'd jump you right this second, right?"
Well, that broke the tension that had settled over us and kisses turned into tickles and tickles to laughter.
"So, we have to like go on dates and stuff and I have to wait till the 3rd date to.....oops, no.......I already kissed you," he teased.
"I just don't want anything to be 'Been there-Done that' now I'll look for something better," I said quietly.
Deacon stretched out on top of me lying there on the end of the dock and answered me. "I may be young. I may not have done as much as you but I know, I really already know, that there isn't anything better. Would you hurt me?"
"God, No!"
"Did you think about me last week?"
Lord, why is it so scary to tell the truth? Because when you do, you open yourself up to hurt. "Yes."
"Well, I thought about you all week long non stop. I couldn't wait to see if you'd come back this weekend."
I couldn't help asking, "What did it mean to you that I did?"
Deacon smiled that little impy smile that I was totally in love with. "It meant you, my friend, soooooooo like me." He giggled and I was gone. I wanted to just put him in my pocket and throw away the key......haha ! I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.
"Okay, how many 'dates'till I can touch you?" he asked innocently.
When did I lose control of this entire situation? When did Chocolate Eyes begin to run the show? Why was I grinning like an idiot?
"Hmmm," I pondered. "Maybe by August or September?"
"NO WAY!!" he snorted and jumped up off me. "You are so not getting that long. Can I stay with you tonight? We don't have to do anything. I can just cuddle right next to you." I looked at him and rolled my eyes.
"You're so full a shit, Deacon Phillips."
"I know but I thought I'd give it a try," he giggled. We walked up to the house and he tugged me toward the back door. I tugged him towards his truck. We pushed and pulled and by the time we got to the truck, we were stuck together like Velcro.
"Sure?" he murmured.
"Go away," I groaned. "Go home, brat."
More kisses and I shoved him in the truck. This was more than I bargained for, much more and I wasn't even sure I didn't want to cross that Finish Line right now myself.
Hanging out the driver's window, Deacon smiled that smile and said, "Tomorrow night. My house. According to my calculations, it will be our 2nd date. Hmmm, what is allowed on a second date? Be thinking, Josh."
He started the truck but then pulled on my shirt to get me closer. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Uh huh."
He licked my ear and whispered, "You're beautiful," gunned the engine and was gone, leaving me totally hard, totally undone, totally in love. How can one boy take one man's heart and get such a hold on it that the world stops?
I spent the next day lazing around, wanting him here, knowing he was working, fixing someone's drain, someone's steps, someone's something. I was tempted to go break something so he could come fix it. No, damn it, these were my rules! But God, were they hard to keep.
About 4:30, my cell rang. Caller ID showed unknown number. "Hello?"
"Josh.....come early......come now.........I just got home and I can't stand to wait for like 2 HOURS for you to come.'
I laughed. "Me either, this has been the longest day. How did you get this number?"
He giggled. "Called my boss and told him I needed to check on your roof."
"Sneaky devil. Can I have time to clean up?"
"Is that cause we might like.......touch?" he laughed.
"Might."
"Then I give you permission, but hurry up."
"Bring anything?"
"You."
Scrubbed and shiny, I drove the few miles humming and smiling. I'd never felt like this before, all jittery and alive.
I drove up to the Phillip's place, Kenny's old house and saw all the work Deacon had put into it. The house was solid, green shrubs growing all along the deck, bright flowers splattered all around. He had painted the house gray with yellow trim and it looked warm and inviting. The dock was smooth with new planks and tiny lights wired along from pole to pole. The lawn was deep with rye and a gorgeous coal black cocker lay on a bed by the front door.
Deacon burst out the front door more beautiful, if possible, than yesterday,
his long tan legs shown off by white cutoffs and his tight muscled arms and chest hidden behind an A&F white pullover. Barefooted, hair still damp from the shower, he was every dream I'd ever dreamed times 100000000. The smile on his face matched mine.
"Hey," he smiled as he bounced towards the car.
"Hi yourself," I grinned. "You look.........," I couldn't finish my sentence.
"Half as good as you," he answered.
I am in sooo much trouble here. This can't be happening. No one finds this. No one gets this chance. I thought about my dads and realized that I was wrong. Some few people do.
Suddenly awkward, Deacon stepped back.
"What?"
"Nuthin," he mumbled, scratching in the grass with his toe.
"Come here, cutie."
"Yessssss !" he laughed and launched himself into my arms. The kisses were just as sweet in the hot sun as the cool night air. This was definitely something.
He took my hand and pulled me to the house. He was obviously proud of what he had done. The walls were painted a soft butter yellow with warm natural wood furniture and big oval rag rugs on the wood floors.
"This is great, I mean really great," I praised him, turning around in circles. It really was great. My awe of this man/child grew as I saw what he could do with his hands.
"I find old furniture and strip it and leave it natural," he smiled broadly at my words. "Mr. Freedlich gave me the paint and my Mama left the rugs. I just had to strip the dark green paint off the floors." He watched me look around shyly. "I want you to like it here."
"I love it here," I answered. I love you, I wanted to say.
"Come see the kitchen and the dock and everything." He pulled me this way and that way and I ohhed and ahhed truthfully over every little detail. This was a home. I'd never tried this hard with my little house on the beach, it was just a place to sleep.
"This is my bedroom," he sighed, opening the door. My heart on overload, I could hardly look at the spindle bed with the blue and yellow patchwork quilt. That other little voice, not my conscience, the little guy with the horns and little spiked tail, whispered, "He wants it. You want it. Don't be doofy". I shook my head to throw him off my shoulder.
Deacon looked at me and back at the bed. I put my hand on his face and ran my thumb over his bottom lip. "Soon," I said softly. He leaned in and kissed me gently. I think I could hear our hearts beating.
He had a small tv and a boombox and a small stack of CDs. I saw a box and picked it up. "Wow, I am soooo good at these old games," remembering when I spent hours in the Arcade at the mall.
"We'll have a challenge match after dinner," Deacon grinned. "I will so whip your butt."
"Not in a million years, buddy," I bragged.
Supper was really good. Was there nothing he couldn't do? "When did you make this?"
"I got up early and cooked it all," he blushed. He actually blushed. "I had a little trouble sleeping last night." Another wave of blush. If he gets any cuter, well, dang! Just if he gets any cuter..............
"But fried chicken and macaroni salad and you so did not make this pie?"
"I did too. My grandma taught me."
"You're gonna make someone a really terrific wife one day," I teased him.
"Maybe," he grinned from under those loooooong eyelashes.
We played PacMan and DonkeyKong and he beat me every time. "I used to be good at this." I protested, slamming the stick right and left. "Maybe this doesn't work right."
"It works," Deacon crowed, "You just stink."
"What? Trade with me. I think your stick is better than mine or something."
I saw Deacon bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Well," he snickered, "mine may be better but you can't have it."
The words caught up with me and I burst out laughing. "You little devil, give me that stick." He shrieked and jammed it behind his back.
"No way, Jose. Mine's better. You said so."
The air seemed to suck out of the room. I had his arms in my hands, he was struggling, laughter gurgling from his lips and, all of a sudden, I wanted that 'stick' so much I couldn't breathe.
"Please?" I said quietly. That 'please' encompassed much more than any toy.
My breathing came back full force in small quick pants and Deacon's eyes widened and then shot full of lust.
"Oh yes."
I laid him back on the braided rug and touched his face. "I would like to touch you now."
He sighed and put my hand to his heart. "Here's where you touch me first."
I didn't deserve this. I never wanted anything this bad. Just touching his face was enough, that laughing, adorable, mischievous beautiful face. He dragged me back out of my thoughts by slowly unbuttoning the button on his cutoffs. "Please?" he whispered, arching his back towards me, showing me what he wanted.
I felt like I was opening the biggest, most beautifully wrapped present under the Christmas tree. The joy was that it had my name on it. "For JD" the little card read.
My hand reached for the zipper.
"Your hand is shaking," his voice sighed and he placed his hand over mine. "I want this." He ran the zipper down and the white of his briefs glowed against that tan skin. I had done this act before but I had never done this.....never wanted to cry at the simple want I could see in his eyes and could feel in my heart.
Tugging off his cutoffs, he kicked them away and waited for me. I could see how excited he was, how ready, already wet. He wanted me to love him. Not jerk him off......love him. I ran my fingers under the elastic and eased his briefs down so that he sprang free. He impatiently threw them off and lay still, spreading his legs, waiting for me.
I wished I could draw at that moment, wished I could keep this picture in my head forever. No sunset, no waterfall, no garden, nothing was ever as beautiful as his face waiting for me to touch him.
"I've been waiting all my life," he whispered, "For you."
I leaned over and touched him, silky and smooth, hard and pulsing. My boy, my Deacon. "I've waited for you too." I took him slowly in my mouth and pleasured him, pleased him, loved him. He sighed, he moaned, he grabbed my hair and tugged. I kissed inside his legs, everywhere I could reach and back to what he wanted. Slow and easy, all the time in the world. Heat, wet, whispers, cries, "Josh, make me cum...Oh God, let me cum".
After, I lay beside him, pulling him to my side, tasting him on my tongue. He kissed me and tasted himself. "Josh?" he breathed in little gasps.
"Mmm?"
"Let me?"
I wanted. I hoped. "Please."
He was more anxious than I had been. He was almost giddy with excitement and tore at my jeans. I laughed, not at him but at how much he wanted me.
He tugged at my shirt and I pulled it over my head. He let out a long sigh. "OMG, I want to just eat you for dessert."
"That's doable," I grinned. "Need a spoon?"
"No," he giggled, "I think I can manage."
The sun had gone down and we still lay on the rug bathed in moonlight. I could see the white of Deacon's t-shirt glow as he tugged off my sneakers and my jeans.
"Josh?"
"Uh huh?"
"I may not be as good as you." He sounded nervous.
"Hush, sweetheart," I whispered, knowing that whatever he did would feel better than anything I'd ever felt. He eased my briefs down over me and I felt the night air catch me. He nestled between my legs and sat back.
"What?"
"Just looking."
I felt his fingers touch me, his thumb dip into the drops forming, rubbing them between his fingers. He brought his fingers to his mouth and slowly licked my taste. His eyes darkened. Gone was the laughing boy, Deacon was just as much a man as I was. He leaned forward and took me into that sweet hot mouth and I died. My back arched and couldn't breathe. I felt one hand go to my chest, tugging at my nipple and the other stroke between my legs. My eyes widened and I tried not to scream, the feelings were so intense. I tried to pull him off, to make him stop before I died. He burned into my skin and I came, hot and fast.
Crawling up me, he spread himself along my body, stopping a second to throw off his shirt. "Ahhhh, skin on skin," he sighed. The moment was ruined when a cold wet nose shoved at my arm.
"Get off him, Jack. He's mine. Find your own man to slobber on," Deacon laughed and pushed the cocker off me.
"Jack?"
"Well, short for Jackson. A friend of mine from school who gave me the dog.
Let's swim."
"What?" I said sleepily. "What?"
"Get up, old man," he teased. "I feel like I could run around the lake in like 5 seconds."
"Go ahead. I'll be right here when you get back."
"Joooooossssssshhhhhhhhhh."
I laughed. Back was my cute little devil. "Yes, Deacon?"
"Come play with me in the water."
Well, am I gonna say 'No' to that? I think not.
We dove off the end of the dock, found each other in the water and 'played'. I had never felt so alive. He'd dive under the water and take me in his mouth and make me come.........no, wrong, let me come. I paid him back on the steps of the dock, his hands kneading in my wet hair.
"Stay with me."
Forever, I wanted to promise. "Yes."
The night was warm, the bed was soft, Deacon was soft and hard and warm all at the same time and I could smell the jasmine. I was beginning to think, to hope, to imagine that maybe, perhaps, by some fluke of luck in the mystical forces of life that had always thrown me for a loop, that I had my life in my arms.
Sunday morning brought sunlight streaming through the windows and real life back to the wonderland we had lived in last night. I was still me and he was still Deacon but everything was different. What would we say today?
I watched him wake up, watched him wiggle his nose and brush at the finger I was tickling him with. He sniffed and scrunched up his face and then let out this God awful yawn and flung his arm over me, jerking back when he realized there was another body in the bed.
"Morning, Deacon," I laughed.
"Oh.......," he smiled that huge Deacon smile. "That wasn't a dream. That was you." He rolled and pounced and snuggled kisses down my neck and onto my chest.
We fixed breakfast and ate out back, watching the sun travel up into the sky. "Another great day," he said absently.
"I have to go bac...............," I started.
"Will it be like this?" he asked quietly. "Will you come see me when you can?"
I hadn't thought beyond all my fears of whether Deacon even wanted me. I hadn't thought about tomorrow and tomorrow and all the other tomorrows.
"It will be all right if that's the way it is," he said and I could hear the sadness in his voice. "Really, Josh."
"What do YOU want?" I asked.
"To be with you."
As simple as that. To be with me. Is it really that simple? Just come and be with me? I thought about what Kenny had said all those years ago, "No one hassling me, taking my time. No one to answer to but me". Was that the way I wanted to live? I always had. But maybe that was where Kenny messed up. If you tell yourself that you don't need anyone and you don't want to answer to anyone then you won't. Right? And then you're alone.
Snap decision. "Wanna come meet my dads? See if you like the beach?"
His leap into my arms was an answer. I think. Plus the, "Oh YESSSSS !!"
And the big wet kiss. I was gonna take my boy home to meet the parents.
Things were barreling along, okay by me, but I needed to make sure Deacon was really okay with it.
"You really wanna do this?"
"I know it's fast and I know you're scared but Josh, I know this is right. I just know it."
He packed a duffle, called his boss and we locked up the house. Jack jumped in the back and we headed over to get my gear. Out on the highway by 12:00, we'd be home by 5:00. We sang to the music on the radio, Deacon played a couple of CDs and finally he snuggled down with his head in my lap and slept the last bit of the trip.
Pulling into the yard, I shook him gently. "Wake up, sleepyhead. We're home."
Home......I couldn't help but panic, in a good way, about what the next days would bring. Would he like my house? Would he like my family? Would they like him? Am I crazy? I only knew one thing....I adored him.
Jack jumped out and ran around smelling and peeing. "Wanna see the beach first, the shop or meet my dads?"
I loved him even more when he said, "Oh, meet your dads. I can't wait." Was he that sure?
We walked over to the big house and found them on the veranda lying in the big cushiony porch swing. Papa D had his head in Daddy's lap and Daddy was tugging in Papa D's hair just like he liked. Daddy leaned down and kissed Papa D.
"Oh," Deacon whispered.
"What?" It looked usual to me.
"I don't know," he smiled, "Just oh."
Walking up the front steps, I held onto Deacon's hand. "Daddy? Papa D? I brought home a stray."
Deacon jerked on my hand and grinned.
"Hello, Deacon," Daddy said. "We've heard a lot about you." I grinned.
Papa D sat up and smiled. "You look just like your father. Kenny was a good man."
"Thank you," Deacon answered. "Josh tells me he was happier when he knew him because he was always sad around me."
"Josh?" my Daddy's eyebrow went up.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Deacon gritted his teeth. "JD."
"He wanted a name no one else called me, Daddy."
Papa D smiled and answered for Daddy. "Bout time someone used that pretty name, right Jordy?"
Daddy sighed and smiled. "Yes, definitely."
I let out the breath I'd been holding.
"We'll be having supper in a bit. Staying?"
"I think we'll go to the house. We just got here and Deacon hasn't seen anything else yet."
"K," Daddy smiled. "Deacon, good to meet you and this house is your house."
"I love them," Deacon said as we walked down the beach. "They're perfect, just like you." I ruffled his hair and hugged him tight.
I whistled for Fiddler and he and Jack came running. "This is my dog. His mama was my dog when I was little. She left me Fiddler here so I'd always have her around, right boy?" I said as I scratched him behind the ears.
"What was her name?"
"Fiddlesticks," I laughed. "Not too original, huh?"
He loved the little house by the ocean. It was different from his and needed fixing up. "Know anybody good with houses?" I asked.
"Why?"
"I think this one needs some work."
His grin answered my question. "Meeeeeeeeeeee."
"You got yourself a job, cutie."
"I can stay?"
"You aren't a stray puppy, Deacon. Do you want to stay? I think it's more what you want than what I want."
"But it's your house. Your life."
You know that moment when the words get stuck and you miss an opportunity because you didn't say them and then you hate yourself forever? This was that moment and I wasn't gonna miss it.
"Your house if you want it. Your life if you want it. Me if you want me."
"Oh."
Oh God.........
I turned to walk away. God, what an idiot ! His hand stopped me. "Josh?"
I didn't turn around, waiting for him to say whatever.
"You want me?" his voice was shaky.
I felt his hand on my back and I turned. I had to turn around. I wanted this so much. "Of course I want you."
"Can the house be gray with yellow trim?"
His eyes were full of tears and I grabbed him and swung him around in circles, trying to kiss him and laugh at the same time. Mine! I wanted to yell.
That night we sat on the log with the dads and I told them that Deacon was coming to live with me. Deacon was trying to be good and casual about it but he was practically crawling on me and I finally gave in and pulled him into my lap. Daddy and Papa D laughed.
"Remember how we were?" Daddy said.
"You still are," I grinned and they had to agree.
"I want to hear all about everything," Deacon said innocently. "Josh says you had lots of stuff happen when you were my age. Will you tell me?"
"Danny here is the storyteller," Daddy ruffled Papa D's hair and they smiled over memories, some wonderful, some not so. Life is like that. "He'll tell you about two boys who fell in love at 15 and still are in love today."
That night, in my big bed, listening to the surf, Deacon loved me. We both wanted it. He rolled on his tummy and smiled and I smiled back.
"Do you still feel like a stray puppy, Baby?"
"No, I may be younger and I may make mistakes, heck you know I will, but please don't stop caring about me. I want to be equal partners in this."
Sharing is equal.........loving is equal........"Then, love me, Deacon."
His eyes widened and he bit his bottom lip. "Yes?"
"Yes."
I stretched out on my back and he climbed between my legs. He never took his eyes away from mine as he used lubed fingers to make it easy, to ease the burn. "Josh," he whispered, as he made me moan. "I love you."
There....the words........just words but I had wanted them so.
"I love you, Deacon," I huffed as more pleasure than I could take jolted through my body. I slid the condom on him and he took my hand and touched his heart. "Yours," he sighed. I raised my legs and he slid into my body, filling me with the love I had waited for all my life.........Deacon was home.
Epilogue
We went back to pack all Deacon's gear and close down the house a few weeks later. He had paint in his hair, yellow and gray, and I'd never been so happy. The U Haul would carry all his beautiful furniture back to our house.
I walked down the path a ways with Fiddler and Jack while Deacon emptied the fridge. I loved this place. My best memories were all here. Trotting along behind Kenny all those summers, wishing for I didn't know what, just that he would see me. I'm glad now he didn't. If he had, I wouldn't have Deacon and that beautiful brown eyed boy was my whole life.
I passed the old tree where Kenny and I had secreted our treasures and brushed away the leaves. I saw something carved in the trunk. Someone had carved a heart and the names Kenny & JD. He had cared after all. He must have done that after I left. 'Kenny, I loved you like nobody's business with all of my pure young heart'. But I was "Josh" now. I had my love and I would make damn sure he always knows it. I'd always make sure Deacon saw the summerfire in my eyes and felt the pinwheels and the magic.
I knew we'd be back in years to come but it would never be quite the same. You grow and you move on. I hoped Deacon and I would grow up and move on together, like my dads. Danny had told Deacon the tales of him and Jordan and how, if you want something bad enough, love someone hard enough, you get your dreams. I hope one day some boy named Danny or Jordan or Deacon or Josh will tell our story of a boy I loved in a heartbeat.
