knew his father would smile when he read the letter aloud at the dinner table, never
imagining his son was getting his hole plugged on a regular basis by guys in uniform.
He shipped porcelain vases and Asian objects of art to his mother. He sent his
brother black-and-white photos of Japan that had thin, white borders with rippled edges.
The time passed quickly, and before he even realized it was happening, he was on his
way back to Atlanta and ready to begin a new life as a civilian again.
Back in Atlanta, Gregory wasted no time with school. He’d already been accepted
to Georgia Tech’s architectural school once, so all he had to do was enroll for the fall. He
studied hard and focused on what he loved doing most: designing wonderful buildings.
Going out and meeting other men wasn’t all that important anymore, at least not as
important as it had been in the Army. He wasn’t a monk—he slept with a few guys from
the dorms once in a while, a professor who liked to cruise the library’s men’s room, and
two of the security guys who patrolled the parking lot while he was studying late. But
school and career came first. He kept a dildo hidden in a loose floorboard under his bed,
and that kept him satisfied when there weren’t any men around. Then he met Betsy Lampnick and everything changed. She was a plain, heavyset
young woman with mousy brown hair that was cut bluntly at the base of her neck and
usually pulled back in a tight bun. She had transferred from a school up north. She rarely
wore makeup or jewelry except for a set of plastic pearls and a round circle pin on special
occasions. Her outfits were either slim gray skirts with white cotton blouses and Peter
Pan collars, or brown slacks and dark sweaters. The dressiest pair of shoes she owned had
chunky, awkward, two-inch heels. Her eyeglasses had thick black frames and she always
had a pencil above her right ear. Their friendship blossomed from casual laughs on the
school steps to going to the movies every Saturday night.
They read the same design books, liked the same movies, and laughed at the same
jokes. When he was with her, Gregory didn’t feel obligated to be something he wasn’t,
and she didn’t pressure him to do anything he didn’t want to do. She seemed happy and
content to be with him just as he was. Dinner and a movie on Saturday night was fine
with her. In the 1950s, good girls didn’t have sex before marriage. And Betsy was a good
girl. But more than that—and unspoken—she seemed to know he was different from
other men and she was fine with the fact that a marriage with Gregory would never be the
fairy tale romance most women her age dreamed about.
Gregory’s mother wasn’t exactly thrilled that her son was seriously dating a
Yankee, especially a lumpy one who didn’t wear lipstick and get a permanent wave every
three months. Betsy wasn’t one of the girls. But his mother didn’t object when Gregory
announced to the family in November of his last semester of school—he’d graduated
early because he’d taken summer courses—that he and Betsy were engaged to be married
in June. He was twenty-five by then and there hadn’t been a parade of pretty young girls coming in and out of the house. Gregory’s father smiled so widely, his dimples turned
into wrinkles. He slapped his son on the back and congratulated him. His mother forced a
smile, then pulled Betsy aside and promised to help her choose the proper wedding gown
to suit her figure and help with the arrangements.
Then one night in April before Easter, while Gregory was sitting with his family
watching the eleven o’clock news on television, Kadin’s face appeared on the TV screen.
One minute he was watching the local weather report, and the next he was staring at
Kadin’s strong chin.
Gregory’s mother had been flipping through a wedding magazine and his father
had been dozing off in a wing chair. His father sat up straight and blinked at the screen,
and his mother dropped the magazine on the floor. Gregory’s eyebrows went up and he
clutched a throw pillow, then he leaned forward to watch. The reporter was interviewing
Kadin about a legal case he’d just won down in Savannah that involved a serious crime.
Kadin gave the reporter quick, sharp answers and continued walking to his car. He tried
to smile and be gracious, but Gregory could see he didn’t want to discuss the case on TV.
Gregory stared at Kadin’s face for what seemed like endless minutes with his
palm pressed to his mouth. When the report was over, he heard his mother sigh out loud,
but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. He sat there for a few minutes, rubbing his neck,
staring at the television. Then he stood up and went to his room without saying a word.
The next morning, he met Betsy in her office. She worked part time for a design
firm on Peachtree Road. She was working on plans for a new house when he smiled and
said, “I have to go down to Savannah for a while, probably about a week or so.” Betsy put down the pencil and stared at him for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
she asked. “You seem excited about something.”
He bent down and kissed her on the cheek and said, “Everything is fine, dear. I
just need to get away for a while. I haven’t taken time off since I got out of the service. I
just need some time alone is all.” His voice was light and had a friendly lilt.
She tilted her head sidewise and gave him a look. “Then take all the time you
need,” she said. “Just promise you’ll call so I know you’re okay down there.”
“Of course I’ll call,” he said. Then he patted her on the shoulder and said, “You’re
the best.”
* * * *
Kadin closed the computer and smiled. It was well past seven and the nurse was
standing in the doorway of the sunroom with her arms folded across her chest, tapping
her right foot. Everyone had eaten dinner and they were the last ones left. “It’s time to
wrap things up for the night,” Kadin said.
Gregory was picking lint from his sweater and his lips were twitching. He looked
up at Kadin with one green eye and one blue, and asked, “Do you have a car here?”
Kadin laughed. “A car?” His ten-year-old Cadillac was out in the parking lot, but
he didn’t drive it often. Once a week he went out and started it to keep the battery strong;
once a month he went for a haircut. He hated to leave Gregory alone for more than an
hour a day.
Gregory glanced at the nurse and leaned forward. “Yes,” he whispered, “A
getaway car, so you can sneak me out of here when they aren’t looking and take me
home.” “Why would you want to leave? They treat you very well here.” Kadin was afraid
to ask where home was.
Gregory smiled and smoothed out a few wrinkles on his lap. “Ah, well, don’t get
me wrong. You people run a fine hotel, and I’ve already told the manager you’re the best
concierge I’ve ever met. I have no complaints at all. But I have this weird feeling there’s
someplace else I should be. I feel like I’ve been on vacation too long and it’s time to go
home.”
Kadin didn’t want to upset him. Gregory was biting his bottom lip now and that
meant he was getting anxious. So Kadin smiled and said, “You ate a huge dinner tonight.
Double what you usually eat.” He knew he had to change the subject. When Gregory got
into moods like this, he usually wound up sobbing and banging his fists on the table.
But Gregory wouldn’t digress. He stared out the window and said, “I’m not
exactly sure where I’m supposed to be, but there are children there. I remember children
playing and laughing, off in the distance.”
Kadin stood up and nodded at the nurse. She walked over and smiled at him, then
tapped Gregory on the shoulder. When she reached for Gregory’s elbow to help him
stand, Kadin said, “Tomorrow I’ll read more of the story and you’ll feel much better.
Right now we all need a good night’s sleep.”
Gregory stepped forward and reached out to shake his hand. His lips had stopped
twitching and his hands were steady. “I just hope this story has a happy ending, because
I’d hate to see these two nice guys disappointed again.”
Chapter Seven
When he looked down and saw Gregory standing on his sidewalk, the first thing
Kadin saw was those unique eyes. He’d been thinking about them for a long time. He’d
never stopped imagining them. They still sparkled. But in a way he couldn’t quite
pigeonhole, they’d lost some of their innocence, too.
Then Kadin let go of the column and put his hands in his pockets. They both
stood there staring, each hesitating to see who would speak first. Kadin remembered the
last time he’d seen him, driving home in wet clothes with his head on his shoulder. He’d
been dreaming of the day when he’d appear on that front walk, but he’d always thought it
was just the silly fantasy of a man approaching middle age.
And now that he was there, he didn’t know what to say.
He remembered all the times they’d spent together that summer. Gregory had
been so apprehensive about sex at first, but always willing to please. His thin, boyish
body had filled out. He was a grown man now, with wide shoulders, a trim waist, and
strong legs. His hair looked slightly darker and he wore it shorter.
Kadin took a deep breath and nodded fast, then he smiled and said, “Hello,
stranger. You look good.” He looked too good to be true.
Gregory continued to stare for a moment. He was smiling and his hands were still
in his pockets. “Hello,” he said. “You haven’t changed at all.”
His voice had the same soft, easy tone Kadin remembered. He ran his right hand
through his hair and went down the steps. When he approached him on the brick sidewalk, he was going to extend his arm to shake his hand. But he lengthened both arms and gave
Gregory a hug instead.
Gregory wrapped his arms around Kadin’s shoulders and rested his face against
his broad chest. This wasn’t one of those quick buddy-hugs between old college friends
at a reunion, with pats on the back and rough, awkward jerks. This was a hug between
two men who had been passionate lovers. He pulled Kadin closer, pressed his palms to
his neck, and closed his eyes.
Kadin took a deep breath and squeezed him. He smelled like spicy aftershave and
orange peel. It left like he was hugging a real man now, not a twenty-year-old who was
unsure of himself. But he was just as soft and pliable as he’d remembered. And for the
first time in five years, Kadin felt complete again.
When Kadin stepped back, he looked him up and down. He took a shallow breath
and sighed. Gregory was better looking than he’d remembered—if that was even possible.
He felt a pulling sensation between his legs. Just holding him for that brief moment had
caused his penis to become semi-erect. He wanted to rip off his pants, throw him down
on the bricks and spread his sweet legs as wide as they would go.
Gregory looked up at the house and smiled. Then he took a deep breath and said,
“The house looks good. It’s just like I’d pictured it would look. Did you do it yourself?”
“Most of the renovations were cosmetic, and I had some help,” he said, with a
mixture of humility and pride in his voice. “But the house has good bones.” Kadin smiled
and stared back at the house. “White shutters on the bottom, black on the second floor,”
he said. “Someone a long time ago told me that was the way it was supposed to be.” Gregory laughed and shook his head back and forth. “You have a good memory,”
he said.
Kadin looked directly into his eyes again and lowered his voice. “Not really. But I
do remember the important things.”
Gregory looked away, as if staring into Kadin’s eyes had suddenly become too
painful to tolerate. He opened his mouth and hesitated for a moment, then said, “Is it
okay that I came here? I was worried it might be inappropriate or weird.”
Kadin knew what he was thinking: men didn’t go after other men like this in the
1950s. It just wasn’t done. “I’m glad you came,” he said. “But how did you know I’d still
be here?”
Gregory shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I saw you on TV the
other night and I just guessed.”
Kadin smiled. “You’re all grown up now,” he said. It wasn’t just the way Gregory
looked. When he spoke, his voice was calm and even. When he moved his arms, he lifted
them with slow, graceful movements. He’d developed an edge that suited him well.
“Five years does a lot to someone,” Gregory said. “But it’s amazing how you look
the same as you did five years ago.” He tilted his head and looked him up and down a
