Chapter Two #3
Bel softened. Sometimes, it was like she could see through his forehead and read his mind.
“It’s okay. You just didn’t get the chance to tell them.
And they might’ve known. I guessed, and they probably did too.
” Without him asking, she added, “Dad would’ve been good with it.
Trust me. Yeah, he could be…uptight, but it would’ve been just fine. I’m positive.”
“Yeah,” he said tightly. “Just wish I knew what I’d been waiting for.”
That his parents hadn’t truly known him was his biggest regret. Though at seventeen, had he known himself? He’d realized he was queer but hadn’t come out until law school. Did he even know himself now? Aside from being gay, he wasn’t sure.
“It’s not your fault,” Bel said firmly. “Hey, listen to me. I’m extremely smart, remember?”
The tension ebbed, and he managed a smile. “Surprised you were able to get the leave of absence. How will the economic forecasting department get by without you?”
“We have modeling for the next two years, so as long as they follow my plan, six months will be a breeze.”
“Good thing the government never changes course.”
Bel laughed as her phone rang. With a grin, she swiped the screen. “Hiya, Auntie Jo!” She waved Lachlan over to sit beside her and held up her phone so they were both in frame. “We were just talking about Dad. Tell Lachie that Dad wouldn’t’ve minded that he’s gay.”
Auntie Joanne’s hair was pulled back into her usual messy bun, gray-streaked dark strands coming loose around her face. Aside from the gray, she could’ve been ten years younger than her sixty-three, her light brown skin still smooth aside from laugh lines around her mouth.
Her dark eyebrows rose. “Where’s this coming from? Of course not. He might’ve needed some time to wrap his head around it, but he would’ve.” In her Kiwi accent, “head” sounded like hid. It always made Lachlan smile.
“Just thinking about stuff,” he said.
“Well, that’s a dangerous hobby. Why’d ya ask? Have you met someone?”
Tensing, he practically shouted, “No!” From the corner of his eye, he could see Bel’s frown.
“Really convincing,” Auntie Jo said with a laugh. “It’s about time. Though I reckon I’d be playing the field too if I were young and handsome.”
The usual shame and strange guilt snaked through him. Everyone assumed that of course he was hooking up and had some wild sex life that he just…didn’t. Though the night with Tim in Bali certainly qualified.
“All right, you’re off the hook for now,” Auntie Jo said. “You can tell me all about him next time. Bel, are you packed?”
Through the rest of the conversation, Lachlan tried to stay present, but his mind kept drifting back to Bali. Though not actually drifting—more like slamming, skidding, rushing. He wanted to live in the fantasy. He knew the details would fade over time, and he greedily wallowed in them now.
They’d just hung up with Auntie Jo when headlights flared over the gate before a motor rumbled to a stop. Lachlan stood. “Expecting someone? Mitch’s meeting you in Bali, right?”
“Right.”
A few moments later, a familiar arm with a bull tattoo reached over the tall gate to push down the latch since it couldn’t be opened from the front. Lachlan’s stomach dropped as guilt smacked him in the face. Shit, he hadn’t prepared for this!
“Hey, Ry,” Bel said as Ryan pushed open the gate, six-pack in hand.
His feet were bare, and he wore shorts and a black singlet, his shoulders pink from the sun.
His hair was buzzed short for summer, and his brown facial scruff was patchier than his father’s.
It held the same hint of dark red in the sunlight.
Lachlan hadn’t seen Tim in full sun, and he wondered how the strands of gray would look against the red tones…
Stop thinking about his father!
Ryan gave Bel a grin. “Figured I’d send you off.
” He lifted his hand for Lachlan to clasp.
“Hiya, bro. Have fun in Bali? Can’t believe I missed out.
” He disappeared into the kitchen through the string curtain, the white strands swaying as he returned with a beer.
Twisting off the lid and tossing it onto the table, he sat beside Lachlan.
Lachlan shrugged. “Wasn’t the same without you.”
“How’s your legendarily hard head?” Bel asked as she tossed Ryan the bag of chips.
“Better than ever. Told the doc she was going overboard with the concussion thing, but she’s stubborn.”
Lachlan snorted. “Right, she’s stubborn. You know getting drunk off your face isn’t a good idea. You do have a concussion.” It was mild, but still.
Ryan waved a dismissive hand. “Been bonked on the head by a surfboard a million times.”
“I was there, mate.” Lachlan’s stomach tightened at the memory.
Ryan had been mid-rescue, trying to wrangle a patient onto his board when a young surfer out of his depth had crashed into them. Ryan had gotten the patient to shore as Lachlan and another lifeguard had raced over in the buggy. Lachlan had been able to grab Ryan under his arms as he’d gotten woozy.
“So I was dizzy for a few seconds.” Ryan propped a foot on the edge of the table. “It was nothing. Feeling fine now. Told Cyclone I don’t need to be stuck on tower duty, but he won’t listen.” He took a swig of beer.
Lachlan sat up straight and snatched the bottle from his hand. “Wait, what’re you doing? You’re not supposed to be drinking!” Ryan showing up with stubbies was so normal that Lachlan hadn’t clocked it.
Bel added, “I was going to say.”
Ryan scoffed and reached for the bottle. “It’s Great Northern! Doesn’t really count.”
“It’s full strength! You could’ve at least got Super Crisp.”
Ryan’s jaw set as he reached again. “Give it here, Lachie. I can have one fuckin’ beer.”
“No.” Lachlan stood and tried to laugh it off. “You’re your own worst enemy sometimes.”
Ryan glared up at him, and Lachlan’s gut tightened. He hated rowing with Ryan. “Come on,” he cajoled with a laugh. “We’re not dumb kids anymore. Doc says no alcohol until she clears you.”
“Being a larrikin at this age isn’t cute,” Bel said simply.
Slumping back on the couch, Ryan groaned dramatically. “Now you’re gangin’ up on me.”
Lachlan hopped over Ryan’s feet and went into the kitchen, the string barrier tickling his bare arms as he passed through.
He fetched another Bundaberg from the fridge and thumped the bottom before bringing it to Ryan, who grumbled and rolled his eyes, but thankfully didn’t dig in his heels any further.
The silence was a bit strained, and Ryan shoved a handful of chips into his mouth. Lachlan asked, “Hey, do you know what the meeting’s about tomorrow morning?”
“Nah. Not like Cyclone to get us all up early without a good reason, though.” Ryan passed the chips back to Bel and elbowed Lachlan. “So, what’d you get up to last night? Jacko said you ditched them all.”
“It was one night! I was sick of Kuta. Getting too old for that shit.”
“What? Kuta’s the best!” Ryan’s smile got brittle at the edges. “This is why the boys think you act too good for us sometimes, Mr. Hotshot Lawyer.”
Lachlan fought to keep a light tone. “I grew up is all. And I’m not a lawyer anymore.”
“I know. I just…” Ryan asked Bel, “He tell you why he quit?”
“Nope,” she said, putting sharp emphasis on the letter P.
Lachlan gulped his beer. “Can we not?” He hadn’t intended it to be some big secret, but he just didn’t want to talk about it. He’d worked hard for years, and it’d been so stupid to throw it away. Even if he didn’t miss the ninety-hour weeks.
Ryan fiddled with his earlobe, which meant he felt bad about what he’d said. “Sorry, bro.”
The tension drained away. “All good.” Lachlan offered his fist for a bump. “Sorry I didn’t stay with the boys the whole time, but I promise Daz had a great time.”
“And if he hadn’t ditched, he wouldn’t have hooked up with a silver fox,” Bel said with a wink.
As Ryan whooped, tension slammed back through Lachlan. Ryan elbowed him harder. “Yeah, boy! At the fancy hotel?”
“Yep. Got a last-minute deal at the St. Regis.”
“Wow. How was it?”
“Incredible. Forget five stars—more like seven. A butler brought me a latte and cookies at five in the morning. Twenty-four-hour service.” His pulse raced, sweat breaking out at his brow line.
Ryan’s eyes widened, his voice dropping. “Bro, did you bang the butler?”
“No! He brought literal cookies and coffee. It isn’t code.”
Ryan raised his hands. “If you say so. Who was the dude?”
Guilt squeezed a fist around his windpipe. Ryan had always, always been there for him. “Fuck, I don’t know,” he snapped before he could stop himself.
“Whoa.” Ryan glanced at Bel. “What’s up with him?”
Before Bel could answer, Lachlan shrugged and tried to laugh it off. “Sorry. Look, you don’t want to hear it.”
Trust me. You really, really don’t.
“Why?” Ryan laughed, but his back was up now. “I’ve heard stuff before.” Hurt flickered over his face.
“Hey, Ry, can you grab me the ice pack from the freezer?” Bel asked. “You’re closest.”
“Sure.” Frowning, Ryan disappeared inside.
Bel gave Lachlan a quizzical look, holding out her hands, and he shrugged again, dropping his eyes. He had to stop acting guilty.
As Ryan returned, Bel took the ice pack and tucked it under her thigh. “Thanks. Strained my hamstring. Say, what’s up with you and that girl Jodie? She seems like a good one.” She’d changed the subject so deftly that she should’ve been the lawyer.
Ryan groaned. “Haven’t seen her in a week. She moved to Quinns Rocks for a job, so she can only come down on weekends.”
“Good god!” Bel scrunched her face. “There’s north of the river, and then there’s…that.”
“Tell me about it.” Ryan sighed heavily. “I drove up, but it took a whole hour. And that was early on a Saturday with no traffic! Fishing was good, though.”
“What’d you catch?” Lachlan asked, breathing a little easier. It was reliably a subject Ryan could talk about for hours if they let him.
Bel said, “But if you miss Jodie, you should make the effort to visit her.”
“I do!” Ryan insisted. “Sure, I miss her, but I’m fine. Plenty of other chicks out there.”
Bel raised an eyebrow. “Are they as good as Jodie?”
“Sure! ’Course they are. It’s not like I want to get hitched like Daz. Having way too much fun, aren’t we, Lachie? I’ll move on, easy as.”
Yep. All Lachlan needed to do was move on, never think about Tim again, and forget all about his dirty little secret.
Easy as.
The cool ground under Lachlan’s bare feet the next morning as he approached the beach was more like dirt with patches of dry vegetation than actual grass thanks to a broken retic.
Council had been arguing for months about fixing the irrigation system with no end in sight, and the summer had been so dry that the park area behind the lifeguard tower was a disgrace.
Long, narrow, dried Norfolk pine boughs littered the ground, crunching underfoot as Lachlan made his way from the car park to the tower at first light. Sunrise in mid-March was around six-twenty, and his opening shift started at six to set up the beach.
It was five-fifty now, and as he jogged up the wooden steps, he could hear the murmur of voices.
The tower was crammed with people for the meeting, and Lachlan squeezed into the kitchenette next to Ryan, raising his hand for a shake and failing to control another stab of guilt and flood of mental images of Ryan’s father—who he was never. Thinking. About. Again.
“Hiya,” Cody Grant said. “How was Bali?” He was on shift too, wearing the long-sleeved blue lifeguard uniform shirt over black board shorts.
“Great!” Lachlan opened his insulated thermos of coffee and gulped. He’d only had time for instant, and it burned and tasted like rubbish. He gave Cody a smile. From the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan frowning at him—clearly clocking how weird Lachlan was acting.
Teddy “Cyclone” Tracy, the chief lifeguard, whistled. “Thanks for coming, boys.” He shook his head—“Sorry, and Mia.”
She rolled her eyes. “Told you I’m not bothered.”
“Still,” Teddy said. “Thanks everyone for coming. Apologies for the short notice. Appreciate you all dragging your arses out of bed.”
“This better be good, Cyclone,” Bickie grumbled.
“Well, mate, it’s not the best news.”
The smiling, joking atmosphere shifted instantly as if they’d all suddenly spotted a drowning patient.
Teddy raised his hands, then rubbed one over his light, buzzed hair.
“I don’t want any fuss. Got my skin check recently, and there’s melanoma behind my ear.
It was hiding, and they reckon it’s spread to at least one lymph node.
Need surgery and radiation, and the doc thinks it’ll be easy as to nip this in the bud. ”
Stunned silence settled over the packed tower like a thick, uncomfortable fog.
“Shit, Teddy. Why didn’t you say anything?” Bickie asked. Beside him, Cody took Liam Fox’s hand and threaded their fingers together.
“Sayin’ it now. Told ya I don’t want a fuss. I’m taking a temporary leave to get treatment and drive Jill mental at home. In the meantime, I’ve called in an old friend to take the reins.”
On cue, the door to the locker room opened. Lachlan craned his neck, trying to see past Baz’s wide shoulders as someone walked down the short corridor.
Chalkers, one of the old-timers, exclaimed, “Look what the cat dragged in!”
Beside Lachlan, Ryan growled, “Got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”
Tim Bullock stepped up to the main platform of the tower. “I missed you too, son.” His wry smile froze as his gaze met Lachlan’s.
Distantly, over the thunder of blood in his ears, Lachlan heard his best friend say, “Lachie, remember my arsehole old man?”