The Lovers in Rossford
Train Rides
Conclusion
“We think,” Keith McDonald said, climbing up onto one side of the bed while Dan sat on the other, “that you should come up with us to Cat Lake for a few days.”
“Or as long as you need,” Dan added. Keith nodded.
Between the two gentle men, Bryant Babcock had, for a brief moment, the fantasy that they would stay with him, that they would both make love to him and make him the third party in their loving relationship. This faded almost as soon as it had emerged, a distinct impossibility. Bryant’s jealousy would not have made it possible even if their morality had. He knew himself too well. The lovely thing about them was how long Dan had lived without love, never expecting it to come, and how long Keith had lived through lusts and false loves. Hadn’t he dated that porn guy on the other end of town, the one who had been with Noah Riley’s son?
“No,” Bryant said, at last. “I know exactly what I need to do. I need to stay here. I need a good night’s sleep and then I have church duty in the morning, and on Monday I need to go into work and run my department. That’s what I need.”
It was not all he needed. What else he needed was taking shape in his head, but he didn’t dare say it.
Instead he said, “What about checking on Fenn?”
“Fenn doesn’t need me,” Dan said. “And I don’t know where he is.”
“You need us right now,” Keith said. “And since we know where you are, here is where we’re going to stay.”
WHEN FENN KNOCKED ON the door he was surprised because there was actually an answer. He had fully planned to break into the apartment.
“Fenn Houghton?” the blond woman blinked at him.
“Carol Miller.”
Brendan’s sister opened the door and she said, “You’re a long way from Rossford. Well, not really, but a long way for an impromptu visit. Let me get you a drink.”
Fenn shut the door behind him and said, “And you’re pretty far from Missouri.”
“Firstly,” Carol lifted a finger, “Missouri is dull as a motherfucker. Secondly,” she said as she opened the refrigerator, “I’m fired. So…” Carol shrugged.
“You want a kiddie drink, or a grown up drink?”
“A grown up one.”
“Yup,” Carol assessed him. “You look like you could use it.”
She took the ice out of the freezer and stooped down to find the liquor, commenting, “Well, this is disappointing. And then she said, “Can you tell me where my brother is?”
“At work. Always at work.”
“Well, what about Kenneth?”
Fenn blinked.
“What, Fenn?”
“You don’t know? Of course you don’t know,” Fenn said. “Why would you ask if you did? Well, Kenny is back at my house. I brought him back to Rossford because Bren isn’t here, and it’s bad for both of them.”
Carol’s face fell while she stood, holding one bottle of gin and another of tonic water.
“I think we’re going to have to have a long talk. Is that why you’re here?”
“No,” Fenn said, “I’m here because you can only run so far. And then you have to find some place to stop.”
“Whaddo you mean we’re on our way to South Bend?”
“I don’t know how to make it any clearer,” the conductor said. “You took the wrong train.”
“We took the only train coming,” Ruthven protested.
“Well, the only train coming at this time is the last train to South Bend.”
“We could have looked at the sign,” Dylan said dismally.
“It was dark,” Ruthven said.
“We weren’t really thinking.”
The conductor had shrugged and moved on. As the train whizzed through the night, Dylan said, “South Bend is nice and all, don’t get me wrong. But, I don’t really need to go there.”
Ruthven nodded. He sat up a little and pulled his train schedule from his back pocket.
“Next stop is Beverly Shores.”
“I don’t think that’s really much of a stop.”
“Well, then we’ll just keep going toward South Bend.”
“No… No,” said Dylan, “Beverly Shores it is.”
When they got off at the little stucco station in the middle of nowhere, the conductor looked doubtful, but she said, “Have a nice trip back.”
Once the train was gone, Ruthven squeezed Dylan’s hand. “I have never, in my life, felt more in the boondocks than right now.”
Across from the train tracks, on the other side of shrubbery was a liquor store, and a car was just coming down the road. Apparently in both directions, if they were willing to walk a bit, there had to be something.
“I could call Todd,” Ruthven said. “He’d bitch, but he’d come, and we’re only an hour or so from home, I’m guessing.”
Dylan shook his head. He sat down on the bench before the platform.
“I like this. Just us here.”
Ruthven, his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts, was still looking up and down the tracks. He turned around, and his face was gentle and sweet.
“We haven’t had just you and me,” Dylan said. “And that’s what you wanted.”
“Right.”
Ruthven came and sat down beside him.
“How are you feeling?” Ruthven said now. “After everything?”
“Honestly?”
“Well, certainly not dishonestly.”
“Happy.”
“Really?”
“Yup,” Dylan nodded. He sighed.
“Cause I don’t have to pretend. I realized it all the way back here. I wished I loved Lance Bishop. Cause he loves me. And also because he’s easy. Like you said. And I’ve been spending so much of my time romancing him. Fucking him. Trying to make it what it can’t be.”
Ruthven sat with his knees wide apart, his hands on them, and he said nothing.
“I’m scared of you,” Dylan said. “I mean, I’m scared of what you would do with my feelings. Because of what happened before. All that happened before. And what if it doesn’t last? I keep thinking about that.
“But all I can do is think about how much I’m in love with you.”
THE FIRST THING Chad North always said upon entering Layla and Will’s was: “Am I interrupting anything?”
He was whistling and Layla said, “I guess something nice happened to you, tonight?”
“You’re not interrupting a damn thing,” Will said, though Chad noted Will moving away from Layla who said, “You were interrupting me about to get laid. But…” she changed her tone, “there is something serious I have to discuss with you.”
Will cleared his throat, and Chad understood that whatever it was had to be big.
“It’s Bryant Babcock,” Layla said. “What about him?”
“My mother was over there. And Paul,” Layla said. “He tried to kill himself.”
“What?” Chad snorted, and then realized Layla was serious. “I thought you should know.”
Eyes turning inward, brow wrinkling, Chad nodded. “Can we do anything for you?” Will said, after a moment.
“I’m not the one who tried hari cari,” Chad said. “I… I think I need to walk.”
Both of his friends nodded.
“I’ll see you guys,” Chad said, his voice distracted, and he waved politely, and then headed out of the house.
“Do you think he’ll go to him,” Will said when Chad was gone.
“No,” said Layla. “I don’t think he can. Not yet.”
“Mathan, I don’t really know where I am,” Meredith told him.
“Let me help you,” he said, slowly. “You are in Rossford, Indiana. In the home of Lee Philips and Tom Mesda.”
Danasia, who had never cared for Meredith anyway, turned away before she could snort, and at that moment Lee was coming down the steps.
“You know what I meant, Mate.”
Mathan nodded, and he didn’t say anything else, because he didn’t want Meredith to be embarrassed around his family.
The front door opened and, dismal, Tom entered.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Danasia demanded, unsympathetically.
“Everything’s happened in the last few hours,” Tom said, sitting down.
“Yes, Adele told me,” Lee said.
Lee did not sit down. He just looked at Tom and asked, “Are you going to sit there like an idiot, or are you going to do something?”
Meredith didn’t know what was going on, but she said, “Maybe I should leave.”
“Maybe you should,” Mathan told her.
She nodded and said, “Goodbye everyone.”
Lee remembered to be civil, but Danasia made a noise. Ron came down the hall as Meredith was leaving, and his wife said, “I didn’t even know you were here.”
“Well, now I won’t be.”
“Are you going to meet with Noah?’
“No,” Ron told her with a theatrical smile. “I am not, and thank you for constantly reminding me of that.”
“I just don’t want you doing him wrong.”
“On that note,” Ron said. “I’m leaving.”
“Ron?” Tom said.
“Whaddo you know about my son being a model?”
“Not a fucking thing,” Ron said, and then he was gone.
“I should have said what do you know about my son being a slut,” Tom concluded, dismally.
“Whatever your son is,” Lee said, “you need to get up off of your ass and do something.”
“Like what?”
Lee frowned and then, to his daughter’s surprised, slapped Tom across his head.
Tom stared at him with a half snarl that didn’t touch Lee at all.
“Like get the fuck up, go to Todd’s and bring your child home.”
The train ride was always long. He lived in the last half of the Red Line, and it seemed to get longer and longer every night. Could he be making this up, or could they possibly be adding new stops? Could Chicago be getting bigger and bigger from the inside?
As the El clicked through neighborhoods, passing the backs of houses, clotheslines and porches, Brendan groaned at the last stop before his. For some reason, the few blocks between this and his stop seemed longer than the whole trip from the Loop.
And then he was here, and it was cold tonight, and he went down from the platform into the city. It was a lie that Chicago never slept. It seemed to be sleeping now. He found himself on Belmont, where there was life again, and for a brief moment thought twice about heading into the quieter streets where the rows of apartments could become beatific places to be mugged.
He was always on alarm those last few blocks, and even into the building, to check his mail in the small lobby, and then head up the steps to his home. So when he opened the door and a voice spoke out of the dark, he screamed.
The light went on, and Carol was saying: “Bren, you need to chill the fuck out.”
Brendan let his briefcase drop to the hallway floor and put his hand to his chest.
“Ah, you’re back,” Fenn said, and Brendan jumped up again.
“Scared?” Fenn said. “Well, you should be. Your life is falling apart. Mine is too, but that’s a different matter.”
“Now,” Carol said standing up and coming toward her brother, “I am not one to tell you how to live your life, but you need to get back to Rossford.”
“Is Kenny alright?”
“Kenny’s fine. Kenny’s probably more than fine,” said Fenn. “And if you want to be fine with him, you need to pack your shit and go. Right now.”
Lee and Tom could not have looked more different. Lee sat in a chair, one eyebrow raised, but Tom stood in the living room, his hands clasped. Todd came back down the stairs with a note.
“Read this,” he told Tom, even though Tom could clearly see the letter was addressed to Todd and not to him.
Tom’s eyes moved over it and then he turned to Lee and said, “He’s left. Dylan is gone.”