The Handyman's Dream (40 page)

“You couldn’t be evil if you tried.”

Ed motioned for Rick to sit on the bed. The record changer clicked, and New Colony Six came on with “Things I’d Like to Say.”

“This song is so sad,” Ed murmured. “But I love it. Always have. You think of me dying, well, I can’t imagine you leaving me for someone else. Trust me, that would make me evil.”

“The guy in the song is so resigned,” Rick said. “I mean, listen to the words. He’s just letting her go marry some other guy. I can’t imagine doing that. I’d fight like hell for you.”

“Well,” Ed said, “he’s asking her, really, if this guy’s good enough for her. I mean, he was hoping she loved him enough to marry him, but she loves this other guy that way. I just can’t imagine my heart breaking like that.” Ed felt tears in his eyes. “Oh, don’t mind me,” he said, embarrassed. “It’s just the flu making me all weak and stupid.”

“You may be temporarily weak, but you’re anything but stupid.” Rick wiped away the tears. “I love you, baby, and you’re the only man I want to marry. You don’t have to worry about that.”

Ed sniffled, then coughed. “Yeah, I know,” he croaked.

Rick laughed softly. “I think you’ve had enough for one day. Why don’t you try and go back to sleep? I’ll do my best not to disturb you when I come to bed.”

Rick left the room, closing the door behind him, muting the music from the living room.

Ed lay back against the pillows, sighing. He didn’t really think Rick would ever leave him for someone else. However, the mere thought of Rick looking at another man the way he looked at Ed made him ache even worse. He shook his head, trying to knock such thoughts out of his head. He knew his illness was making him gloomier than he needed to be. Still, Ed wondered how he would feel if he was in a position to sing “Things I’d Like to Say” for real. He figured it would hurt a hell of a lot more than the flu.

He fell into a fitful sleep, and barely noticed when Rick crawled into bed beside him. He came fully awake later, surprised to see Rick there next to him. Ed got up for more aspirin and a glass of water. When he returned to bed, Rick was still asleep, snoring away as he usually did. Ed quietly slid in, carefully putting his arms around him. Ed snuggled against Rick and sighed happily, in spite of the pervasive ache in his body.

No, darlin’, he thought to himself, I wouldn’t just turn evil if someone tried to take you away from me, I’d kill ’em.

* * * * *

Ed wasn’t feeling any better the next morning, but sent Rick off to work, telling him not to worry. His mother called, but Ed assured her he didn’t need a thing, that Rick was taking care of everything.

“I tell you,” Norma said. “I don’t know what you did to deserve that man, but you just thank your lucky stars, Ed. I hate to admit it, but he’s probably better than any girl I would have picked out for you. When you’re through coughing up all those germs, I want the two of you over here for dinner, you hear me?”

“Yes, Mom,” he said, coughing into the phone.

“Oh, honestly. Get back to bed. I’ll check on you tomorrow,” Norma barked before slamming the phone down.

Rick returned after work and fussed over Ed all evening.

“I could get really used to this,” Ed teased, holding out his bowl for more ice cream.

“Well, don’t you even think about getting sick on a regular basis. I probably shouldn’t say it, but, baby, you’re about as sexy as that pile of beer cans from last weekend.”

“Man,” Ed exclaimed, not coughing for a change. “Now that’s the incentive I need to get better.”

“See that you do,” Rick said, leaving the room with the ice cream bowl. “I want my handyman back in full form for other things besides sleeping in that bed, ya know.”

The phone rang. Ed heard Rick answer it, but couldn’t quite make out the conversation. Rick reappeared a few minutes later.

“That was Mrs. Penfield,” he told Ed. “She heard through the grapevine about you being down with the flu. I swear, baby, every old lady in this town is pulling for you. Anyway, she sends her best wishes, and wants us to come for a visit when you’re feeling better.” Rick grinned. “She said something about a wedding present. What on earth is that all about?”

Ed chuckled and coughed. “Oh, I told her that our moving in together was the same as two straight people getting married, so she wants to do something nice for us.” He shook his head, smiling. “Darlin’, what would we do without her?”

“I don’t know, baby. I do know one thing, though. The next time my parents come to visit, I’m sending them over to her for a good talking to.”

On Friday Ed’s temperature returned to normal, but he was very tired, and never far away from a box of tissue.

“Baby, I never knew you had so much snot in you,” Rick said, emptying the bedroom wastebasket.

Ed threw a pillow at him. Rick ducked, laughing, and hurried out of the room, whistling “One Man Band.”

Saturday afternoon found Ed pacing around the house, feeling like a caged lion. He felt better, but knew he should follow Dr. Weisberg’s advice and stay inside a few more days.

The weather had turned warm once again, and he stuck his nose out the front door, inhaling that unique scent of spring. The trees were in full bud, and Ed imagined the leaves that would soon sprout. Spring, then summer, then back to fall again, he thought, remembering the day he was raking leaves, hoping to meet the new mailman on his front path. Where will we be by this fall? he wondered.

Having Rick in the house with him these past few days had made being sick tolerable, and Ed suddenly knew that Laurie was right, they were wasting time. He slammed the door shut, determined to talk to Rick that evening, hoping to change soon to now. Apparently Claire and the children had survived without him this week, so maybe the time had come.

Rick returned from work in his usual joyful Saturday afternoon mood. He was pleased to find Ed feeling stronger, and declared an end to soup eating. He was, he said, going to order a pizza for their supper. Ed, catching his mood, stacked some records on the turntable, picking out those he knew Rick enjoyed the most.

At one point Rick cocked his head at Ed. “You trying to tell me something, baby?” he teased, as “More Today Than Yesterday” followed “This Guy’s in Love with You” on the stereo.

“Who, me?” Ed asked innocently. “The pizza’s here. Go pay the guy.”

They were at the kitchen table, scarfing the pizza, Ed pleased to find that his appetite was truly back, when the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Rick said, starting to get up.

“No,” Ed said, getting up. “I’ll get it. It’s probably Mom. She hasn’t called yet today.”

He stepped into the living room and turned down the volume on “One Man Band,” anticipating Norma’s demand to “turn off that racket.”

He grabbed the phone in midring. “Hello?”

“Hello,” said an unfamiliar man’s voice. “Can I talk to Rick?”

Ed frowned, puzzled. He couldn’t imagine who it was. “May I tell him who’s calling?”

“This is Jack, an old friend of his from Indy. I really need to talk to him.”

Ed’s body went numb. He felt his knees begin to give out, and with his free hand, he grabbed the telephone table.

“Just a minute,” he whispered into the phone.

Ed gently placed the receiver on the table. He turned and stepped back into the kitchen.

Rick was leaning across the table, grabbing another piece of pizza from the box.

“For me?” he asked, not bothering to look up. “Is it Claire?”

“No,” Ed said quietly.

Rick looked at him, bewildered.

“It’s Jack,” Ed said, with a calm he didn’t feel. “He says he needs to talk to you.”

Chapter Twenty-three

The mournful America ballad “I Need You” poured out of Ed’s stereo speakers. He told himself he was a fool to be listening to a breakup song, but the constantly repeated “I need yous” only echoed what was on his mind. He needed Rick. Badly. But at the moment, he had no idea where Rick was.

Ed sat hunched in a tight ball on his sofa, a box of Puffs nearby. The flu wasn’t quite done with him, and he almost welcomed the coughing and nose-blowing as a distraction from his thoughts. He also knew if he wasn’t feeling so weak, he’d be pacing the room, wearing a hole in the living room carpet.

The tone arm lifted off the record, silently moved aside, paused, and returned to play the same record. Ed didn’t feel like getting up to find something else to listen to, and he hadn’t heard enough “I need yous” yet.

Ed’s mind returned to earlier that evening and the phone call that had led to Rick’s absence. Rick had dropped a slice of pizza on his plate when Ed told him who was on the phone. He’d gone to the living room with a sigh of annoyance, muttering, “How in the hell did he track me down here?”

Ed sat down in his chair, trembling. Oh, he was still shaky from the flu, but his current condition was brought on by hearing Jack’s voice on the phone. Smooth and low, it was a voice not unlike the late-night radio disc jockeys Ed had always enjoyed. Rick had once shown him a picture of Jack. Yes, the voice went with the rest of the package. Jack was compellingly handsome; dark, mysterious, and sexy. Ed had no problem understanding Rick’s attraction to him.

Since his chair at the table was no more than a few feet from the phone, Ed couldn’t help but overhear Rick’s side of the phone call. He sat facing away from Rick, his eyes glued to his plate, his ears glued to Rick’s voice.

“Hello? Hey, Jack. How did you . . . ? Oh. I see.” Rick sighed again, listening. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but . . .” Another sigh came from Rick, this one of exasperation. “Well, if you must know, I’m eating pizza with the man I love, the man I’ve asked to marry me. What? Oh, fuck you. What do you know about it, anyway?”

There was a longer pause. Ed resisted the temptation to look at Rick.

“Yeah, well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I? As usual, your timing is impeccable. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Rick hung up the phone. “Aargh,” he growled. He walked to Ed and lightly put a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Baby, I’m sorry, but I have to leave for a while. That goofball is over at Claire’s right this minute. I have to get rid of him. I don’t want him hanging around the kids. It sounded to me like he’s half loaded.”

Ed coughed. “How did he find you?”

Rick’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “Well, he had come with me to visit Claire and the kids several times when we were together, so he knew the way to Claire’s house. Someone I used to consider a friend told him I had moved here.”

“What’s he want?”

Rick left the room, saying over his shoulder, “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but from past experience, I’d say he’s probably all alone and broke, and he’s come here to see if good old Rick’s still stupid enough to feel sorry for him. Well, I don’t.”

Rick reappeared in the kitchen, wearing the jacket Ed had gotten him for Christmas. “All I care about is getting him the hell away from my family. I also don’t want him anywhere near you, although I should probably bring him over here, so he could see what a real man looks like. I won’t, though. I don’t want him to know where you—I mean we—live.”

Rick patted his pockets, checking for his keys and wallet. “Baby, just leave this mess on the table. I’ll clean it up when I get back.”

He paused at the back door. Ed looked into his face. That look Rick always had when he thought of Jack was there, a look of pain and confusion. Ed knew he was being foolish, but that look had always scared him, and it scared him now.

“Don’t worry,” Rick said, biting his lip, something Ed had never seen him do. “I’ll take care of this, and . . . oh, hell. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Rick bolted out the door, and soon Ed heard the sound of his car starting. He looked up and saw Rick’s Monte Carlo pull onto Grant Street, pause briefly at the corner, then roar westward on Coleman.

Ed looked at the pizza, amazed that whatever had just happened had taken place in less than five minutes. The pizza was even still warm. Like a funnel cloud, Jack had swept down from the sky and taken Rick away from him.

Rick hadn’t kissed him before he left. He didn’t say “I love you, baby.” Ed couldn’t remember the last time Rick had failed to do that.

And so, here he was, two hours later, alone on a Saturday night with only the cat and an America record for company. He prayed for the phone to ring, but it didn’t. He even checked to make sure there was a dial tone. The phone was working fine, it just wasn’t ringing with a call from Rick.

Ed rocked back and forth on the sofa. When had Rick first told him about Jack? He thought back, and it came to him: It was their first official date, the night Rick had brought him roses. They had been having dinner together—ironically enough, delivered pizza—right here in this house, sharing their life stories.

“I met this guy, Jack, when I was twenty-four,” Rick had said, pushing a piece of pepperoni around his plate with a fork. “He was handsome, witty, charming, popular. I fell for him like a ton of bricks. My God, what a fool I was. I pursued him like crazy. I was tired of being alone, and I was convinced he was the man for me. I finally convinced him that we should get an apartment together. He somehow convinced himself that he was in love with me. I don’t know, maybe he was for real.

“Thing was, I didn’t understand a lot of things. I didn’t know that most of the guys who hung around those bars where there mostly for sex. I hadn’t been out very long, and I was completely green where the gay scene was concerned.

“I had gone through this whole long struggle with myself about being gay and how I was going to live my life. It was like I had to have a . . . plan in mind before I really acted on it. So I thought, when I finally got the courage to go to those places, that I’d meet some guy, we’d fall in love, and that would be it. I met a lot of guys and had a lot of sex, but I really wanted love. I guess when I saw Jack, I decided the time had come.

“It wasn’t until after we moved in together that I found out why he was so popular. He was a great-looking guy, and everyone wanted him. Turned out Jack wanted most of them, too.” Rick sighed. “And he drank a lot and smoked a lot of dope. I’d never been much of a partier, and it drove me crazy. I’d come home from work, and there he’d be, half wasted at three in the afternoon, usually some of his loser friends hanging around. And poor, old, stupid Rick, why he thought Jack had been out looking for a job all day.

“It went on like that for a long time. Oh, occasionally he’d get some half-assed job, but he’d end up losing it ’cause he was always late to work, or didn’t bother to show up at all. I didn’t want to see it, but the truth was he was using me. I had a good job, good pay, and I took care of everything. He had a place to live away from his parents, a place to party, and, hell, some guy to play with when he wasn’t being pursued by every other guy in town.

“I finally woke up the night he totaled my car. He’d gone out with some of those worthless friends of his and had gotten drunk, and ran my car right off I-465 into a ditch. He was afraid he’d get busted for drunk driving, so he ran off, leaving the car. He came home about four in the morning and told me it had been stolen. The cops called and told me where my car was, and blah, blah, blah. Jack was a pretty good liar, and I fell for some of his shit, but not this time. I just knew he was lying. All of a sudden, all the anger I’d held in exploded. I threw him out of the apartment.”

“Then what happened?” Ed asked, captivated by the story.

“Oh, of course he apologized, said he’d make it up to me, and all that shit. I took him back. Nothing changed. I threw him out again. Took him back again. Threw him out for the third time. Finally, when the lease was up on the apartment, I moved out without telling him and took an apartment closer to work. I really thought I was done with him, but he tracked me down on my mail route, tried to make a big emotional play for me, right there on North Delaware, in this sweet little suburban neighborhood.” Rick smiled bitterly at the memory. “Two crazy gay guys, arguing there on the street, right in front of Beaver Cleaver’s house. But I was done. I told him to fuck off, once and for all, and that I never wanted to see him again.”

“Did you?”

Rick snorted. “Yeah, like a bad penny, he’d turn up from time to time, usually wanting something, maybe money, or a place to crash. I let him stay over, once or twice. What can I say? I was lonely, and some part of me still loved him. Last time I saw him was about, oh, seven months or so ago. I was talking with Claire about the possibility of moving up here, if something opened up in the post office. I remember thinking that Porterfield may suck for a gay man, but at least I wouldn’t have Jack around.”

And so now the bad penny had turned up in Porterfield. Ed blew his nose, wondering what Jack’s reason was for tracking Rick down this time. Was he looking for a handout? A place to hide, maybe? Or, and this was what Ed feared the most, Jack wanted Rick back, wanted him back so badly he’d leave Indianapolis and travel a hundred miles to find him.

Ed’s common sense told him he had nothing to worry about. Jack was a loser, and Rick was well shed of him. He knew, he knew that Rick loved him, wanted to build a life with him, but he kept seeing the look on Rick’s face when he had left the house. Ed couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of charm Jack possessed, but he knew from that look that some part of it still worked on Rick.

Abruptly Ed got up and shut off the stereo. He walked into the kitchen to see what time it was. Just past eight.

He looked at the mess on the table, Rick’s pizza lying cold on the plate. Rick had said he’d clean it up, but Ed assumed he’d be back long before this. He threw the pizza in the box, then shoved it in the refrigerator. He poured himself some Pepsi over a glass full of ice. The cold, sweet drink comforted his still scratchy throat.

The phone rang. Ed almost dropped his glass. He slammed it on the table, sloshing Pepsi over the side. He ran to the phone and grabbed the receiver.

“Hello?” he gasped.

“Ed? It’s Claire.”

Ed closed his eyes. “Hi, Claire,” he managed.

“I’m sorry, Ed. Rick asked me to call you right after he left, but Angie’s here for a sleepover with Judy, and Jane’s being the typical, bratty little sister. I’ve had my hands full trying to keep her away from the girls.”

“Where is he?” Ed asked, clutching the receiver.

Claire sighed. “He’s on his way to Indy.”

“What?”

“Don’t freak out, Ed, please,” Claire pleaded. “I swear everything is okay. That jackass took a bus up here from Indy. I didn’t realize that when he came here, or I’d probably never have let him in. Truth is, I still wish I’d slammed the door in his face, then called the cops.”

“He came up here on a bus?” Ed asked, his brain still moving slow from the flu and fatigue.

“Yes. He showed up here, insisting I get ahold of Rick for him. Oh, I’ve always hated that guy, Ed. He’s such a jerk. Anyway, he showed up right when Angie was arriving for supper. I hauled Jack into the living room by the phone. He doesn’t know your number, Ed, or your last name. I dialed the phone myself, then left the room.

“I was getting the kids their supper when he came in the kitchen, saying Rick was on his way over to talk to him. He smelled like he’d been drinking, so I told him he could just wait out on the driveway. I didn’t want him around the kids, and I had to answer enough questions as it was.

“Rick showed up a few minutes later. They sat talking in Rick’s car for, oh, I don’t know how long. Finally, around seven, Rick came in the house. He said since there weren’t any more buses through Porterfield until Monday, he was driving Jack back to Indy. It was either that, or put him up here in town, or drive him to Fort Wayne and look into bus connections there. I think he just wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible. Anyway, he asked me to call you, and he told me to tell you not to worry, that everything’s fine. He also said that if he was too tired to drive home, he’d stay at Mom and Dad’s and drive back in the morning.”

Ed tried to take it all in. “Do you have any idea why he came all the way here?”

“No, and I don’t care. He never did anything but make Rick unhappy. Ed, you . . . well, you just can’t imagine how glad I am that he’s found you. Rick’s always been kind of a broody type, but he’s been so happy since you’ve been around. I’ve never seen him more full of life. Jack is just a user and a loser. Rick knows that, and I’ll bet you anything this is the last time Jack ever comes near him.”

Ed sighed, relieved to know where Rick was, but still worried. He knew he’d worry until Rick came home. “So you think he’ll really stay over in Indy tonight?”

“Actually, I hope so,” Claire said. “I’m sure you want to see him, but it’s been the usual long day for him, getting up so early for work like he does. I’d feel better if he waited until morning to make the trip back. I’m sure, though, that he’ll call you when he gets to Mom and Dad’s. He would have called you himself, earlier, but he was really anxious to get going. I don’t blame him. That guy gives me the creeps. I probably would have told him to hitchhike his way home, but you know Rick.”