Defining Us: The Calvin & Eric Story (69 Bottles) (54 page)

I watch as Calvin nods, and I’m not sure he’s really hearing everything the director is saying and that’s okay. That’s part of why I came along. To help ground him and remember all the things he’s forgetting. “That sounds good,” Calvin says.
 

“Your father is here, they brought him over this morning, would you like to see him before?”
 

“No,” Calvin states matter-of-factly.
 

“Oh, kay,” the director says pretty quickly, unsure of how to take Calvin’s tone. I know that he’s fighting with himself, that being here in this place is almost too much for him, but I know he’s here because he has to be.
 

“Why don’t you give us some time to look around?” I tell the director who nods.
 

“I’ll go get all the paperwork for him to sign while you do that.”
 

“Thanks,” I tell him and he leaves me with Calvin. I turn to him. “Talk to me, Cal.”
 

He shakes his head and stands up. “I just… I don’t know, I’ve never done this before. I don’t even know where to start or how to make decisions.”
 

“It seems as though your father has already done all that for you.”
 

“Then why can’t Mary-Beth pick out his casket? Why do I have to handle all this? She was his wife for crying out loud. I swear to God that asshole is punishing me.”
 

I close my eyes, take a deep breath and shake my head. “I doubt that is the case, Calvin, and you don’t think that’s really true. Maybe Mary-Beth wanted to give you a chance to say goodbye to your father in private. Maybe she wanted you to feel a part of this.”
 

“And if I hadn’t come?”
 

“Then I imagine she’d have handled it herself. But Calvin, you have to understand that her, along with the rest of this town, that town, whatever, has no idea why you left all those years ago. Billy’s answers to that question make that clear enough. I am pretty sure that unless your father had a really big stroke of conscious before he died, that even Mary-Beth has no clue and maybe, maybe it’s time to tell her and to tell them all.”
 

I watch as he runs his hands over his head. Frustration, confusion and more are all being worn on his sleeve, but I really think he needs to do this. “Let’s get this over with,” he huffs as he puts his arms down and walks across the hall into the casket room.
 

After about thirty minutes, he’s picked a casket and signed the paperwork to finalize everything and I think we’re about to leave. “I want to see him,” Calvin says to the director.
 

I give a sad, small smile and nod at the director. “Follow me. We’ve set him up for you.”
 

Calvin doesn’t say anything to me as we follow the director toward a room that is at the back of the funeral home, which is just a remodeled house.
 

Calvin turns to me, his eyes meet mine and he rests his hands on my chest before gripping my jacket. “I need to do this alone.” He rests his head against my chest, leaning on me, pulling strength from me. It brings me great comfort to know that I’m here for him.
 

“Whatever you need, Cal,” I whisper and he grips my jacket a little tighter before releasing me and turning around before stepping through the portal to the room where the man he’s hated his entire life lays dead.
 

I had no idea what to expect when I walked into the room. It’s lined with about ten or so silver doors with long handles on them. I shiver thinking about the bodies that could lie beyond them. But right now, the one laying out on the table in front of me is the one I’m trying to avoid.
 

I haven’t bothered to ask how he died, because I really don’t care, but the frail man lying there is nothing like the man I remember.
 

His cheeks are sunken in, his eyes look bruised and he’s about a third of the man he was when I last saw him. Whatever it was took him hard.
 

A tear streaks down my cheek and I wipe them away. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes,” the director says before taking his leave.
 

As soon as the door clicks closed I murmur, “You son of a bitch.”
 

I was prepared to see a burly, husky man lying on the table and instead I see a frail old one and his suffering is evident. “Good,” I mumble. “You deserved to suffer, you asshole. Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through? No, of course you don’t. You sent me packing.” I lean back against the wall behind me, refusing to get any closer.
 

“Well, let me tell you, despite your best efforts, I’m still gay and I am with the most amazing, beautiful, sensitive, loving man a person can ask for. Despite everything you tried to do to me.” I brush away the tears again. I can’t quite figure out why I’m crying but I pray to God it’s from anger and not sadness. “I love Eric more than life itself. Not you, not those doctors, no one, can take that away from me. I just wish you’d been smart enough to realize that a decade ago.”
 

I push myself off of the wall. “Goodbye, old man.”
 

I open the door to find Eric leaning against one wall and the director against the other wall. There is a small smile playing on Eric’s lips that I don’t quite understand and the funeral director looks positively green. “Thank you.” I hand him a card with my phone number on it. “Call if you need anything else, otherwise we’ll be here Monday at four.”
 

The director clears his throat. “Uh, yes, okay, Monday at four. Thank you, Mr. Caldwell.”
 

I shake my head like ‘what the fuck’ and grab Eric’s arm and pull him back through the home and out the door to our car.
 

“What in the same hell did you say to him?” I ask as we reach the car.
 

He spins me around, pressing me against the car. “Amazing? Beautiful? Loving?” There is a twinkle in his eye. “Love me more than life itself?”
 

“You heard me?” He snorts a laugh. “Oh god, that means he heard-” I burst out laughing and Eric takes my head in his hands.
 

“I love you too, Calvin Caldwell, more than life itself.” He slants his lips over mine, melting away the anguish, the pain, the frustration and bringing back the love, desire and lust I feel for him when his lips are on me and his body is pressed against mine. I shiver at the thought of what I plan to do to him tonight when we get to our hotel.

WE get back in the car and head back toward the farm house, though instead of going straight there, we stop in at Sammie’s, a bar and grill, I guess you could call it that, in downtown Maynard and half the town appears to be here tonight.
 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eric asks.
 

“I’m not sure I can stomach eating a meal in that house. This is our best option unless you want to wait until later. Fast food doesn’t exist around here and most things close at like nine o’clock. So no, I don’t want to do this, but I’m hungry.” I smile at Eric.
 

“Well, okay then. Let’s do it.”
 

He opens his door and climbs out. The evening air is warmer and I watch as Eric throws his jacket in the car. His sleeves are on full display. “Besides, with you dressed like that, no one will pay any attention to me.”
 

“Should I do my hair up real quick?” he teases.

“Oh god, talk about giving them heart attacks,” I tease him back and roll up my own sleeves before walking around the car and heading into Sammie’s.
 

“Good lord, nothing’s changed in this fucking town,” I mutter as I look around the bar. It’s the same fucking thing it was back in high school. The same wooden stools, faux leather booths, though the pool table looks worn, it’s been replaced since I was in here last and the smell of stale beers and peanuts rings heavy.
 

“What can I do for you fellers?”
 

“Sammie?” I say to the old graying man behind the bar.
 

“That’s me, who the hell are you?” I watch as he stands up a little straighter, all eyes seem to have turned to me, and I want to roll mine.
 

“Calvin.”
 

I watch as recognition hits Sammie and half the people in the bar, among other weird unnamed emotions that float through their wide eyes. “Well, holy dog shit, look what the cat dragged in,” Sammie says as he walks around the bar. My father spent so much time in this bar, drunk off of his fucking ass, that I’d ride my bike up here to drive his drunken ass home. “Good lord, you’ve grown up,” Sammie says as he takes my hand and pulls me into a hug. “Sorry about your dad,” he whispers in my ear. “I’d hoped you’d come home.”
 

“Thanks Sammie.” I pull back from him and nod toward Eric. “Sam, I’d like you to meet Eric Richardson. Eric, this is Sammie, obviously. He owns this joint.”
 

“Nice to meet you, Eric. How do you two know each other?”
 

“From California,” Eric says.
 

“No shit?” Sammie can’t hide his surprise. “So that’s where you been hiding all these years.”
 

“Something like that,” I grumble, not wanting to go into details.
 

“Come on, take a seat. What can I get ya?” Sammie asks as he escorts us to an open table.
 

“A pitcher would be great,” I tell him and Eric nods his agreement.
 

“You got it.”
 

Our meal is good, just like I remember, adding to the fact that nothing changes in this town.
 

Eventually people get over their shock and fear and start coming over, expressing their condolences and saying hello to me like we’re long lost friends. Some I’ve gone to high school with, others I’ve managed to remember, eventually, from dealings with my father.
 

When we’re done, we head back to the farm house. I feel relief when I notice that there is only one car in the driveway, I’m assuming it’s Mary-Beth’s. “We won’t stay long,” I tell Eric when we pull up. “I’m exhausted and losing steam on my ability to smile and be cordial to people.”
 

“We stay as long as we need to,” he tells me with a smile. I lean over the console and cup his bearded cheek.
 

“If you ever shave this off, I might get disappointed,” I tease him as I run my fingers through it and pull him toward me, kissing him, finding my center and my salvation in a single kiss.
 

I pull back, getting worked up before stepping back inside this house is the last thing I want to do. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s get this over with so we can be alone.”
 

I smile. “I like the sound of that.”
 

We both climb out of the car and walk up the porch, the door is open and the screen door is the only thing in our way. “Mary-Beth?” I call out.
 

“Come on in, Calvin,” she says from inside the house and Eric opens the door for me.