Authors: Ken Murphy
“Why don’t you come over to my apartment for dinner tonight?” Trevor asked, rousing Mark from his thoughts.
“You’re going to cook?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the occasion?”
“I cook!” Trevor protested, looking wounded. “But we do eat over here a lot. I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
“You contribute plenty,” Mark said, rubbing Trevor’s arm.
“I know. But I want to make you a nice meal all on my own.” Trevor flipped his wrist and took Mark’s hand. “Do you mind if Derrick joins us too? I feel like I don’t know what he’s up to anymore.”
“That sounds fine,” Mark replied, squeezing Trevor’s hand.
After making certain Derrick would be at home, Trevor arranged to make dinner for the three of them at their apartment. He hadn’t been joking when he said he didn’t know what Derrick had been up to. Between his work and the time he spent with Mark, Trevor felt as though he had been neglecting Derrick lately. It would be good to have a quiet evening with just the three of them.
Three hours and four stops later, Trevor was back in his own apartment. He took a quick shower and dressed in jeans and a blue silk button-down shirt. He turned on the television and changed the channel to a soft rock music station for background noise. Glancing at a clock, he saw that he would have the place to himself for a while. Mark wouldn’t be over until six thirty, and Derrick was still seeing two new patients at the hospital.
Trevor opened the refrigerator and pulled out all his purchases. He spread everything out on the counter in front of him. He washed and seasoned three Cornish game hens and placed them in a baking dish. Next he chopped bread, nuts, and grapes and mixed them all in a bowl. He stuffed the birds with the mixture and placed them in the oven. He was chopping vegetables for a salad when Derrick walked in.
“You should have said you were doing the cooking,” Derrick said cheerfully as he gave Trevor a hug from behind. “I assumed I was being treated to one of Mark’s wonderful meals.”
“Hey! That’s not very nice.” Trevor feigned hurt.
“What?” Derrick snickered. “I didn’t say anything mean.”
“Asshole,” Trevor swore under his breath, grinning. “Kiss the cook and pour us some wine.”
Derrick gave him a peck on the cheek and pulled two glasses out of the cabinet. He opened a bottle of chilled white wine and filled one glass, then handed it to Trevor. He filled the other glass and sat on a stool next to the counter. He watched as Trevor continued to work in the kitchen.
“So what’s been going on, Trev?” Derrick started casually. “I don’t think I’ve seen you more than half an hour in the past two weeks.”
“I’ve been here more than that,” Trevor replied sheepishly.
“I could have rented out your room and you wouldn’t even have noticed,” Derrick teased.
“Did you?” Trevor asked, pretending to look surprised. He peered around the bar as if to see if someone occupied his room.
“Not yet,” Derrick said with a chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to soon, though. What with you two lovebirds going at it all hot and heavy. It’s only a matter of time until you move in together completely.”
“Yeah, right,” Trevor mumbled, rolling his eyes. “Like that’s ever going to happen.”
“Trouble in paradise?” Derrick asked, setting his wine glass on the counter.
“No. Things are just great with us,” Trevor replied quickly. He didn’t look at Derrick.
“What are you not telling me?” Derrick prodded.
“Nothing, really,” Trevor answered with a sigh. “But there is this imaginary line that we don’t cross. We can have a good time, but we can’t talk about our feelings.”
“Now you sound like a girl,” Derrick ribbed.
Trevor shot him a glance.
“Kidding!” Derrick said, throwing up both hands.
“I know.” Trevor smiled. “But we don’t ever talk about anything serious, or make any plans past the next date. Everything is sort of focused on right now.”
“Have you told him how you feel?” Derrick continued.
“He knows that I love him,” Trevor said quietly, looking away.
“Answer enough,” Derrick replied as he picked up his wine glass.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Trevor asked. He turned toward Derrick and leaned against the counter.
“Trevor, as long as I have known you, you’ve read like an open book,” Derrick continued, taking a sip of his wine. “Everyone always knows what you’re thinking because you’re always open and upfront. Yet, here you are, walking around on eggshells. Why are you treating Mark differently than you do everyone else? Why don’t you just tell him what’s on your mind?”
“Because I’m afraid I’ll lose him if I do,” Trevor admitted.
“So you’re trying to build a relationship by not talking about anything important. Do I have to tell you how lame that is?”
“It’s not like that at all,” Trevor protested. “I know Mark has been in some bad relationships before. He’s afraid of commitments. I don’t want to scare him away by pushing him too fast.”
“Still lame,” Derrick interrupted, shaking his head.
“I have to believe that one day he will be ready, and I’ll know when the time is right,” Trevor said, looking in Derrick’s eyes. “And it would be nice to have a little support on my side.”
“I’m always on your side,” Derrick said lightly. “You know that.”
“Which is why you’re sitting here breaking my balls?” Trevor picked up his wine glass and tilted it toward Derrick.
Derrick laughed. “You’re both freaks. You deserve each other.”
“Yeah? Well, at least I’m dating,” Trevor said sarcastically.
“I’m dating,” Derrick replied, returning Trevor’s smile. “Not everyone goes in and bags the first nurse they come across on their first day at work.”
“I cannot believe you just said that!” Trevor said in mock horror. “And you wonder why I call you an asshole?”
Derrick laughed. “I call it like I see it. Anyway, you know you love me.”
Trevor laughed in return. The doorbell rang, and both men looked at the door.
“Yes, I guess I must.” He gave Derrick a kiss on the forehead and then a hug. “Go answer the door so I can look busy. I want him to know how hard I worked on this dinner.”
Derrick laughed and got up to open the door. He playfully punched Trevor in the chest as he walked past him. He was still laughing as he opened the door.
“What are y’all talking about that’s so funny?” Mark asked as he kissed Derrick’s cheek.
“Freaks,” Derrick and Trevor chirped in unison. That got both men laughing again while Mark looked from one to the other in confusion.
D
INNER
was a success and everyone had more than enough to eat. After the meal, the trio worked together in the kitchen to put away the leftovers and clean up the dishes. Derrick washed the dishes and Mark dried them, then Trevor put everything away. Once they had finished, Derrick went into the living room to pick out a movie. Mark followed behind him and took a seat on the sofa. Trevor opened a bottle of wine and brought it with him as he joined them. He plopped across Mark, his legs winding up in Mark’s lap. Wine splashed from the bottle.
“Watch out!” Mark yelped as he jumped in surprise. He laughed and put an arm around Trevor to balance him. Derrick started the movie and sat down beside Mark. They had barely started the movie when Trevor’s cell phone chirped. His eyes lit up as he recognized the caller.
“Go take it,” Mark said, pushing Trevor’s legs out of his lap.
Trevor flipped open the phone. “Hey, Mother!” he said cheerfully as he walked toward his bedroom. He closed the door behind him so he could talk without disturbing the others.
“Pause the movie and let me go see how long he will be,” Mark said as he stood to go and check with Trevor. He walked over to the door, but stopped when he heard sobbing coming from inside. Mark looked back at Derrick. Derrick frowned as he noted the worried expression on Mark’s face. Mark knocked lightly, then pushed the door open when there was no reply.
Trevor was sitting cross-legged on the side of the bed. He rested his head on one hand and his shoulders were heaving as he cried. His face contorted with pain, he looked up at Mark. His eyes were red and tears flowed down his cheeks. Mark rushed over to close the distance between them. He sat on the bed and pulled Trevor into his arms, then held him tightly. Trevor’s body began to shake and spasm as more sobs racked his body. He held onto Mark, burying his head in Mark’s shoulder.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Trevor,” Mark whispered as he caressed the back of Trevor’s head, trying to comfort him.
Trevor said nothing for the longest time. He just held on to Mark and cried. When the heaving finally subsided, Trevor turned his head and rested it against Mark’s chest.
“It’s my father,” Trevor said after a moment. He sniffed and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to speak. “He died on the way to the hospital. They said it was probably a stroke.”
Mark sucked in a deep breath as Trevor started crying again. “I’m so sorry, Trev,” he said softly. He pulled Trevor close again and cradled Trevor’s head against his chest.
Derrick walked over and sat on the bed behind Trevor and gently rubbed his back. Mark sniffed as he tried to stop the flood of tears that now poured from his eyes. He looked over and saw that Derrick was crying as well.
Chapter 20
T
HE
next few hours were a blur of confusion. In spite of Trevor’s protests that he was fine to travel alone, both Mark and Derrick had insisted on flying with him. They had taken turns calling airlines to try to book emergency tickets. A sudden snowstorm in the Midwest had brought air traffic to a standstill. Nothing was available until morning. The first available flight had routed them through Minneapolis, then Salt Lake City, finally arriving in Boise at eight o’clock in the evening. As they made their way to baggage claim, Mark looked around at the terminal. The building was mostly glass and metal. Beautiful mosaic patterns on the floor gave the airport a cheery, welcome feel. It was definitely much smaller than Atlanta’s airport. They claimed their luggage and walked over to pick up the rental car they’d reserved. Outside, the weather looked frightful. Gusts of winds blew snow in every direction.
“Is the weather always like this?” Mark asked the receptionist. He shivered and pulled his coat tighter as the door opened and a blast of cold air struck him.
“Thankfully not,” she replied with a smile. “Most of our bad weather is in December. It’s rare for February to be this bad.” She completed the paperwork and gave Derrick the keys to their car.
They stowed the luggage in the trunk. Derrick crawled into the driver’s seat, and Mark took his place in the backseat with Trevor. Derrick drove out of the parking garage and turned the car onto the highway. Even with the windshield wipers on high, Derrick could barely see in front of the car. He drove slowly, making certain to keep plenty of distance from the cars in front of him.
In the backseat, Trevor stared out the window. His face was tight and drawn. He was understandably lost in his own thoughts. His only connection to the present was the tight grip he maintained on Mark’s hand. Mark and Derrick occasionally exchanged knowing glances through the rearview mirror. No one spoke for the entire ride.
Mark was pulled from his thoughts as he felt the car turn into a driveway. He looked out the window and took in his first glimpse of Trevor’s family home. The house was white with black shutters on the windows of the first two floors. Dormers in the roof highlighted the third floor. A gas light hanging from the porch ceiling illuminated the single black door. He glanced over at Trevor, who still hadn’t moved. He pulled Trevor’s hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.
“Come on, Trev,” he coaxed. “We’re here.”
Trevor looked over at Mark in confusion, as if he didn’t understand what he’d said. Then he nodded slightly and got out of the car.
They were greeted at the door by a tall, beautiful woman with flaming red hair and emerald-green eyes. She immediately took Trevor into a tight embrace. They stood entwined together for a long time without speaking.
“This is Sarah,” Derrick told Mark as they looked on.
Mark nodded in acknowledgement. He wouldn’t have guessed she was about to turn thirty.
Sarah released Trevor and shook hands with Mark as Derrick made introductions. She kissed Derrick on the cheek and gave him a brief hug.
“Everyone is in the kitchen,” Sarah explained as she led them down a long hallway.
“Everyone” turned out to be Helen, Trevor’s mother, and Camille, his oldest sister. The rest of the family had already left for their own homes. Camille was tall with red hair, like her younger sister. Helen, in contrast, was shorter and stockier. Not overweight, but solid. Her hair and eyes were brown. Both women were pointing to an open book and talking when they entered the kitchen.
Helen looked up when they walked in. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Trevor, pulling herself up for a hug. “Please make yourselves at home,” she instructed over Trevor’s shoulder.
“I got here as fast as I could, Momma,” Trevor said softly as he embraced Helen, burying his face in her shoulder and squeezing back.