The Lovers in Rossford

THE BEGINNING OF ALL THINGS

3

Dylan just wanted people to leave his Dad alone. He understood everyone was trying to be helpful, and they were, but he just wanted Fenn and Adele and his grandmother to go to sleep. He wanted Layla to have Brendan back, and he wanted all of them to get through their sorrow. He was not thinking of his own sadness as he rode his bike. Indeed, he was really thinking that, out of everyone, he had the least right to sorrow. His great-grandmother had been very old and he, by adoption, had been the last one to come into the family. Really, it was his job to see everyone through this, not to sit around grieving.

Here was Bryant’s house, and the lights from inside made it warm and inviting. He propped his bike in the bushes and went to tap on the large oak door, and then a moment later it opened and Bryant was saying, solicitously, “Hey, Dylan. How are you, guy? Come in.”

His eyes were shining and his face was red. He looked, Dylan thought, like he’d just finished having great sex or something, and as he entered the house a man was coming down the steps, tying his tie and tucking his shirt in. Well, Dylan knew the signs, and it seemed that Bryant had no shame about being found out.

“You left this,” Dylan said, and in the middle of speaking, stopped to look at the man.

“This is my friend, Nick Ferguson,” Bryant said.

He said, “Say hello, Nick,” because Nick seemed awfully incapable of speaking for an adult.

“Hello…”

“Dylan,” Dylan supplied for the sake of appearance.

His face was red now.

“Well,” he said, hurriedly, “I’ve got to be going home now. Have a good night, Bryant.”

He pushed the wallet into Bryant’s hands and then hurried away, forgetting to shut the door, which Bryant did, with his back, folding his arms over his chest and cocking his head.

“Why do I feel like you two know each other?”

Nick prepared some lie, and said, “Why shouldn’t we? It’s a small town.”

When Bryant kept looking at him, Nick added, “So, he’s a bit young. What of it?”

He was buttoning his cuffs. “I’m still a good looking man.”

“How old do you think he is?” Bryant said, turning to look out of the curtain beside his door.

“Eighteen, nineteen. Mature and adventurous.”

Bryant shook his head and said, “Are you—”

Then, eyes narrowing with revelation: “Did he learn to play the trumpet from you?”

“Well, yes.”

“Oh, Lord,” Bryant said. “His father better never find out. He’ll never find out from me.”

“I don’t care about some college student’s father.”

“You idiot,” Bryant said.

Nick looked at him.

“Dylan isn’t in college. He’s fifteen.”

 

When Dylan came back home, locking the doors and heading up the steps, his father was sitting on the bed, upright with the alarm clock in his hands.

“I thought you might have fallen asleep.”

“How could I fall asleep with my boy out after dark?” Fenn turned off the alarm clock and stretched out. “Now I can go to sleep.”

“Aren’t you going to undress?”

“No,” Fenn said. “I’m too tired.”

“Then neither will I,” Dylan decided, and climbed onto the bed.

Fenn reached up to turn out the light.

Dylan placed his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Poor Grandma Anne. I just keep thinking about what it would be like to lose you.”

“Well, that’s depressing.”

“Don’t go anywhere, Dad. I’m going to need you for a long time.”

“How often do you hear that from your teenage son?”

 “Well, I’ll make sure you hear it everyday.”

“I won’t promise never to die, and you don’t promise to say that everyday, and neither one of us will make promises we can’t keep. Let’s just love each other, my boy.”

“Alright, Dad,” Dylan said.

“When you were a baby I thought that I would be a terrible father. You were such a surprise to me. I was so awkward with you, and you were so foreign to me. Who knew you would grow into this, or that I would love you so?”

Dylan squeezed his father tighter, and then turned over so they were back to back.

“But love is as love does, so no more of this chit chat,” Fenn said. “We have a long day tomorrow and tomorrow you are going to school.”

“Fine,” Dylan said. “But I’m still going to take care of you.”

 

“Everything is straightened out, and Noah’s employed and… you had something to do with that?” Danasia demanded.

“I’d like to think I did,” Ron said.

They were sitting up in bed and Danasia said, “What the hell is that?”

“It’s from Mathan’s room.”

“We got a baby trying to sleep, and funerals to plan,” Danasia got up. “He better knock that shit off.”

She left her room and went next door. She wrapped on the door, and then went in.

There was a gasp, and in the dark she vaguely saw something, so she just flipped on the light.

Meredith lay under Mathan, her hair all a tangle, and they were both looking at her in shock and surprise.

Danasia took a deep breath, said, “Baby’s trying to sleep.” And then, flipping the light out, she backed out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

Back in their room, Ron looked up at her.

“Well,” was all Danasia said. “Well, well.”

 

Sheridan felt outside of everything. Layla’s great grandmother was dead. He had never known her. He felt badly for Layla and for her family, but didn’t know what to do. Somehow he felt that since things with Chay had ended, he was the one shut out from everyone. It must have been made up. He must have been pretending. Before heading for school he went through the mail pile and pulled up:

“The magazine, Logan! Logan, it’s your magazine.”

Logan was washing his face in the bathroom when Sheridan came in and said, “Logan, look!”

“What’s that?” Logan said. Sheridan handed him the magazine.

“Look, it’s you. You’re famous. I bet you’re online. I bet people will be commenting about it.”

Sheridan left Logan with the magazine in his hand while he went to the computer.

“This is the start of the new you,” Sheridan began. “This is the start of a new us, really. I mean, you’re going to be the greatest model around, and you won’t ever have to do porn again. That’s all going to end.

“Oh, man, here you are! Logan Banford…

“Logan Banford, formerly known as Logan Wrathbone from Casey William’s Live and Guy McClintock’s Rude Boys, has begun a new career in modeling. Says Banford, ‘I really want to get into more modeling and maybe music. Porn was a stepping stone to…’ Oh, this is really neat, Logan. Logan?”

Sheridan stopped. “Logan.”

He got up and went looking for Logan, but Logan was standing in the hallway. Sheridan couldn’t discern what his look meant, but it wasn’t joyful.

“Logan—”

“Sheridan, you’re so stupid,” he said.

Sheridan stopped.

Logan opened the magazine up and said, “This is me stroking my cock. This is me with my dick hanging half hard between my legs.”

“It’s hot, but it’s modeling. It’s not what you used to do.”

“It’s exactly what I used to do.”

Logan tossed the magazine at Sheridan who jumped away.

“Nothing’s changed, Sheridan.”

When Paul and his bags arrived back home and he began searching for Kirk, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called him.

“I can’t find your car. I thought you’d be in the airport.”

“I’m with the kids,” Kirk said.

“What?”

“I just want to know one thing.”

“Alright?”

“Did you fuck him?”

“Wha?”

“Did you fuck Noah?”

When Paul said nothing, Kirk said, “That says everything. Thanks.”

“Kirk?”

“Noah is waiting for you. I told him to pick you up. When you get here, don’t worry. I won’t be here. The kids won’t either. We’ll work out something.”

“Kirk, wait. No—”

“I’m tired of waiting. I’ve been waiting for twelve years for you to leave me.

“You know what I did last night? I fucked some guy. I sent the kids to Sheila’s and I spent the night fucking and getting fucked and, shit, maybe I’ll do it some more. Because I know who you are. Goodbye, Paul. I hope you have… a great life.”

And then Kirk was gone and Paul was stunned.

Paul felt a tightening in his chest as he shifted his bag and walked down the concourse. He saw Noah lifting a hand and waving at him somberly.

Paul moved toward Noah and they stood facing each other.

“Noah?” Paul said.

“James found out,” Noah said, simply. “He found out. He left. He’s gone.”

 

My Noah,

We shouldn’t put tears where they don’t belong, or weep when there is no cause for weeping. At least we shouldn’t weep for sadness when we should be crying for joy. What you loved about me was that I wasn’t like other people, and hopefully you’ll love this still.

By now you will have heard that I am gone because I found out something. It doesn’t matter who I learned it from or where. You may be tempted to think I am angry, or in despair that you and Paul are lovers. I am sad, a little, but that is it. And not sad for the reasons some might think. My sorrow comes from the truth that I cannot muster rage or anger or passion and I know this means in my own way I have betrayed you as much as you betrayed me. Or maybe we shouldn’t even look at it as a betrayal. Maybe we should just look at it as the end of what we had. What we had was good, a mini lifetime together before my passion passed on and yours began to burn, but not for me.

So I have made it easy, and I hope you have the sense to not give into dramatic gestures and run after me. You can’t find me. You must tell Paul there are no hard feelings toward him. I have seen for a long while before this the struggle on his face and in his eyes, and it was a struggle involving a passion and a desire I can no longer give you. What I can give you is freedom, and what I can give you is a clear way to the man who has loved you for years.

I will see you again, and sooner than we both think, probably. We have one son, our only son between us, your face and my name. Do not think of this as the end, but as the beginning. I think it may be the beginning of all things.

Your first love, first husband and constant friend,

James Lewis

 

Paul’s knuckles went white and his face dried and drained of color as Noah read. Now and again Noah stopped to put the letter down, to touch his eyes.

When he was finished he wept all the way back into Rossford.

 

Chay stood beside Casey’s chair while Logan and Sheridan sat on the other side.

“Well, what do you think, babe?” Chay shrugged at Casey’s question.

“This is the least of my problems. In fact, it’s not even my problem.”

“It is,” Casey argued, “It’s our problem. Yours and mine.”

Just like that, in one sentence, Casey had given Chay the gift of permanence. He had declared them a unit.

“I don’t move without you moving with me, so tell me how you want to move.”

“I think that there are four magazines off the top of my head Logan can go to. And I think that my uncle will be a good agent for him.”

“Thank you,” Sheridan said with a sigh of relief. Logan was afraid to reveal too much emotion.

“You should have come to me in the beginning,” Casey said.

Logan nodded.

“Logan, I make no apologies for anything I’ve done. I can’t remember the last time I made a movie. But the last time I was in one, I wanted to do it. You need to learn to say no. You need to not be so afraid, or you’ll kill yourself. One way or another you’ll kill yourself.”

“Thanks, Casey,” Logan said, his voice small.

“And this one loves you,” Casey gestured to Sheridan. “I mean, obviously. Don’t kill what you guys got.

“Now get the hell out of here.”

Sheridan thanked Casey as he and Logan turned to go. And then, when they were gone, Logan came back in. “Chay?”

“Yes.”

“I know what I did to you. I know, and I’m sorry.” Chay shook his head.

“All you did was love someone. All you did was send me back to the someone who loved me.”

When Logan was gone, Chay waited a moment and then said, “Uncle Ron doesn’t know why Dad left, does he?”

“He knows that things are over. Maybe Paul and Noah better keep things under raps for a while.”

“Maybe,” Chay agreed. “But I can’t help thinking that no matter when they get together, Uncle Ron will always blame them for James leaving.”

“And you?”

Chay shook his head.

“My dads were always strange, together and apart. I don’t know. I can’t say.”

Casey swiveled from behind his desk and Chay sat on his lap.

“All I know is we are solid. That’s what I know.”

“Yes we are, Mr. Lewis,” Casey Williams said, putting his arms around Chay’s waist. “Yes, indeed.”