Trust the Focus (11 page)

I pressed his face into my neck and nuzzled the curls above his ear. “Just be patient with me, okay?”

His voice was muffled against my skin. “Okay.”

***

June 2

[Picture]

Onondaga Cave was very cool. We saw tons of spiky rock things that have some special name I can’t remember because I didn’t pay attention in geology in high school.

We also got real showers at a campground and could wash our clothes. Yay!

Thanks for all the well-wishes you have all sent to Justin. I read them to him and he cried like a baby. Okay, not really, but he might have teared up at one or two. Thanks a lot, because it meant the world to him.

This blog is really taking off. I’m getting over one hundred hits a day. I can’t believe it! Thanks for sharing our journey. Next stop is Minnesota. I hope I pick up the accent.

5 Down

7 To Go

—L

Comments

Trenton: I bet he did cry.

Mia: Aw, we love you, Justin! Take care of yourself. I’m only a phone call away.

Chase: That cave is awesome!

The Chippewa River Bottoms was a hardwood forest along the Chippewa River in Wisconsin. The weather was mild and we walked to the bank, taking in the fast-moving river and several kayakers out for the day. My dad had told me we’d kayak on this river one day, and we laughed about the time we went kayaking back at home. I’d struggled to get into the damn thing and tipped it over, along with myself, into the water repeatedly. I heard my dad’s laughter ringing in my ears and smiled.

It was early morning, the sun just cresting over the tops of the trees, so I got a great sun flare shot with Dad’s urn in the foreground. I tossed a handful of ashes into the river, and they quickly dissolved to be whisked away downstream.

We played catch with a baseball and our bare hands along the banks of the river. Landry preferred his sports to involve no balls and lots of running, but he knew how to throw—I’d taught him the way my father had taught me—and he was always willing to help me practice.

When I was a freshman in college, Landry met me after practice one day. He’d been talking about teaching his young cousins how to throw, and some fuck-up junior outfielder turned his back to us and told a teammate Landry probably taught them how to” throw like a girl.” Before I could say anything, Landry grabbed the baseball from my hand and beaned the junior right between the shoulder blades. The guy’s only injury was his wounded pride, and I laughed so hard I fell over.

“Did you like coming to my games?” I asked him now, tossing the ball in one hand lightly before throwing it to him.

He caught it and shrugged. “Course I did. You in tight pants.”

I rolled my eyes but I still blushed. “Whatever.”

“Your teammates were mostly nice. I liked Tomás.”

I caught his returned throw and ran my fingers over the red seams.

“Oh,” Landry said. “Actually, meant to tell you, he commented on the blog and said if we’re going through Illinois to stop by.”

I looked up. “Really?”

Landry shaded his eyes against the morning sun and squinted at me. “Yeah, he said he lives near Chicago?”

I nodded.

“What do you think?”

“I’d love to see him. He likes you, too. You wanna do that?”

“Yeah, I think it’d be fun. I’ll send him an e-mail.”

“Cool.”

***

We had a late-morning snack of granola bars and sat side by side near the bank, wrists resting on our bent knees. The sun shone off Dad’s urn at our feet. I checked and no one was around, so I leaned my head on Landry’s shoulder.

“What’s your favorite memory of my dad?” I asked.

Landry brushed a kiss into the top of my hair and didn’t talk for a minute. “I think it was in high school. Remember we didn’t think he was going to make your senior night for baseball? And then he marched into the stadium with those huge helium balloons—a bat, a mitt, and a baseball. And afterward he gave you that autographed photo of Mike Schmidt.”

I laughed. “That was pretty awesome.”

“But it wasn’t even all those things he bought, it was the fact that he showed up. He missed out on that big bird migration thing he’d been talking about. Just to see you stand on a field and throw a baseball.” He sighed. “He knew being there mattered.”

My mom had made a big deal the whole month before senior night—our last home game—bitching about how Dad couldn’t take the time out of his schedule to come. He’d told me he’d try to make it. And I’d hung on to that
try
like a lifeline. My mom hadn’t heard that word.

And then he’d shown up, his smile huge, carrying these tacky balloons for me and a bouquet of flowers for mom. She’d taken them with a tight-lipped smile, but I was elated.

He stayed the whole game, then took Mom and me and Landry and his family out for ice cream. I could still hear my dad’s laugh that night, see Landry’s tongue as he licked his cone.

“What’s your favorite memory?” Landry asked.

I picked up a twig from between my feet and drew random circles in the dirt. My brain flipped through memories like a photo album—Dad and I playing catch; his finger pressing mine on the shutter release to take a shot of a squirrel in the backyard; him slapping Sally on the side before he climbed in and drove away.

“I don’t think I have a favorite memory,” I said. “There are too many.”

Another kiss from Landry, this time his lips on my forehead.

I continued my circles in the dirt. “I think what I miss most is knowing I was loved. No matter what I did, who I was, I knew there was someone on earth who loved me unconditionally.” I squeezed my eyes shut as they filled, then jerked my head up, Landry’s falling to the side. I hurled the stick into the river and swiped under my eyes. “Fuck. I miss him, Lan.”

When I had myself under control, I turned to look at him. His eyes were wet too, but he didn’t bother hiding it. “You’re still loved, Justin.”

I should have said it then. I should have told Landry I loved him, but instead I closed my eyes and I kissed him, the wetness of our tears forming a seal between our lips.

***

We grabbed lunch at a fast food joint, eating in a yellow plastic booth and trying to keep our elbows off the sticky table.

Landry swirled his straw, rattling the ice in his soda. “So, I had an idea.”

I pointed a fry at him. “Last time you had an idea, I got pelted with water by tiny humans.”

He smirked. “Baby.”

“Just tell me your idea so I can pretend to fight it when we know I’m going to eventually give in.”

“Is that just because we make out now?”

My first instinct was to glance around the restaurant. “Landry, keep your voice down.”

He looked irritated. “Calm down, it’s deserted in here.”

“To answer your question, no, that’s not the reason. I can’t say no to you whether we make out or not.”

His face softened. “That’s a lot of power.”

“Out with it.”

He squirmed in his seat and smiled. “Okay, okay. As much as I love Sally and that amazing sofa bed that is the size of a crib mattress and lumpy as hell, I thought we could take a break from her. I thought hotel but then I got a little crazy searching online. I found this really awesome bed-and-breakfast.” He whipped out his phone and I half thought he’d have a PowerPoint presentation to show me.

He handed me his phone and I had to admit, the place looked pretty cool. “Sally’s B&B.” I laughed. “Shit, we do have to stay here, huh?”

When I looked up, Lan was beaming. “What do you say?”

“Is it expensive?”

He shrugged. “Not too bad. And breakfast is included the next day. Full spread.”

“Okay, do we need to call to check vacancy?”

Landry didn’t skip a beat. “Already called. She said she’d hold our room until four with no deposit.”

“When the hell did you call without me hearing you?”

“When you showered.”

“You’re sneaky.”

“No, I just want a real bed.”

I stuck my lower lip out. “Poor Sally.”

“I think she understands her limitations.”

I checked my watch. “It’s two now, so how far away is this place?”

Landry practically bounced in his seat. “A real bed! And shower!”

“Focus, Lan.”

“Oh, right. Um, only like forty-five minutes.”

I wiped my mouth with my napkin and stretched in my seat. Then I grabbed my tray and shot Landry a wink. “Then let’s get going.”

***

When I thought of B and B’s, I thought of candles in the windows and bowls of potpourri sitting on lace doilies and pink paisley curtains and rooms that smelled like old ladies.

But Sally’s B&B sat deep in the woods, a log cabin with several chimneys and the smell of campfire in the air. I liked it already. Lan and I packed a duffle each with our bathroom kits and some clothes and headed in the front door.

Our shoes thunked on the knotted hardwood floor and a tall, older woman with short blond hair waved to us from behind a desk.

And that’s when my stomach rolled because this all felt so homey, so coupley to me. Landry and I were at a bed-and-breakfast, getting a room together. Two men. In Wisconsin. I fidgeted with the straps of my bag and regretted this whole idea.

The woman behind the desk stood up and extended a pale hand to me. “Are you Mr. Jacobs?”

I shook my head and gestured to Landry beside me. “No, he is.” I cleared my throat because my voice was deeper than normal. “We’re friends.”

I felt like my brain was detached from my body and I was watching this whole scene unfold from a camera in the ceiling. Instead of seeing Landry’s eyes, I could feel them boring into the side of my head.

Uncertainty passed over the woman’s face, and then she smiled again, but this one was forced, like she was humoring me. “Okay,” she said and turned to Landry. “Hi, Mr. Jacobs, I’m Sally. Thanks for staying with us. With your friend.” She nodded to me, and Landry shot another glare in my direction.

She sat back down in her seat. “We’ll just get you checked in, then. One night, correct?”

“Yes,” Landry said.

“Okay, so one night. We’ll put you in the Robin room. It has its own full bath and one king bed, is that all right?”

One bed, one bed, one bed,
echoed through my head. There were the sounds of footsteps upstairs and I could hear voices in the kitchen, and oh my God, they’d know. They’d all know Landry and I slept in the same bed.

I couldn’t do this.

“Um, did you say one bed?”

“Yes, she did, Justin.” Landry’s voice was tight, a warning to me I didn’t heed because I wanted to throw up.

“Is there a sofa or something we can pull out for another bed? Or a cot?”

Confusion flashed over the woman’s face and she glanced at Landry before turning to me. I didn’t look at Landry. Because if I did, he might hit me.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “All our rooms only have one bed.”

“Do you have another room?” I blurted out. And risked a glance at Landry out of the corner of my eye. His face had gone completely pale.

“I—” She looked at Landry again.
Look at me, lady.
“I’m sorry, we only have one vacancy, I—”

“It’ll be fine,” Landry said, cutting her off. “He can sleep on the floor.”

He slapped down his credit card and grabbed the key off the desk. “Which way to the Platonic Friends suite?”

***

I walked behind him with my head down, still aware of every voice, every eye, every greeting on the way to our room.

And I knew I’d made a huge mistake.

That fact was even more apparent once we reached our room. Landry opened up the door, ushered me in with a glare, and then slammed the door behind him.

“Lan—”

“Don’t.” He said through gritted teeth, the one word like a slab of ice in my heart. He whirled around to face me and backed into the bathroom. His eyes wild and red. “Giving me those eyes and your ‘Lan’ is not even close to being enough to apologize for whatever the fuck that was downstairs.”

He tossed his bag on the bed, walked in the bathroom, and slammed the door.

I sat on the bed and dropped my head into my hands. I didn’t know what that was down there, either. Temporary insanity? Panic attack? In the privacy of our room, my muddied head settled and I knew I had completely overreacted. Two travelers sharing a bed wasn’t a big deal. Hell, we did it sometimes when I traveled with the baseball team in college.

The root of the issue was that I didn’t want her to think we were
together
together. But why? What was I so scared of? I doubted Landry and I were going to get gay-bashed in a bed-and-breakfast, no matter what the state.

The shower turned on, and I gripped my hair and pulled. At least he hadn’t escaped out a window and left me.

How many times could I fuck up before he left? Before he realized he deserved better than me, a guy who couldn’t even acknowledge that Landry was my boyfriend to a harmless stranger?

I didn’t want to know when his patience would run out.

Landry emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He didn’t look angry anymore. His shoulders were slumped and his arms hung loose. He looked . . . disappointed.

I didn’t want to know how I looked.

He rummaged in his bag, his back to me.

“Can I talk, Landry?”

He didn’t answer and I figured that if he wasn’t stopping me, I could go on. “I’m sorry. And I know you’re sick of me saying I’m sorry but this is fucking new for me, all right? I don’t know what to say in public. I don’t know how to act. I just . . . I don’t know what to do.”

He pulled on a pair of shorts and then flung his damp towel over the desk chair. “You want pizza for dinner?”

Dinner? He was asking me about dinner? No, I didn’t fucking want pizza. My stomach lurched in protest of swallowing anything. “Landry, can we talk about this?”

He faced me. “Honestly, Justin? I’m tired of talking.” He put a knee to the bed and then twisted to drop on his back, an arm over his eyes.

I clenched and unclenched my hands, staring at his bare chest, rising with his breaths. Before he knew what I was about, I crawled over top of him, caging him in with my knees at his hips and my hands at his shoulders. He didn’t remove arm from over his eyes. “Justin—”

I didn’t give him a chance to say
stop
or
don’t
or
get off me
. I bent and pressed my lips to his. He didn’t kiss back but I kept at it, licking the seams of his lips and nuzzling my nose into his until he opened his mouth with a sigh and let me in. His hands gripped my neck and I lowered myself on top of him.

I pulled back and braced myself on my elbows so I could see his face. His eyes drooped but still had a wariness about them, lines crinkling the corners.

I touched the curls at his temple with my right hand. “I panicked. I have no excuse.”

He sighed. “It was a complete overreaction.”

“I know.”

“These are king-size beds. It doesn’t matter if we’re gay or straight, we would have shared a bed and I guarantee she didn’t think twice about it.”

“I know.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Just because I kissed you doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you.”

“Shit, I hoped my mouth had magical forgiveness powers.”