Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Randall
“I can do this,” I mumbled to myself. I knew I could because when I’d reminded Austin that he had his whole life ahead of him and didn’t need to be saddled with an antisocial old man, he hadn’t disagreed with me.
Okay, maybe I’d only said, You have your whole life ahead of you.
Every choice in the world. And maybe he’d only said that it simply meant we had time to explore being in a relationship, and that we could just put a pause on it while visiting his parents.
But the fact that he didn’t counter the point was enough to convince me that Austin was going to get our crazy cabin-fever-induced encounters out of his mind and get on with his life.
It would be easy to do since we’d shattered the snow globe.
Once we’d gotten through the holiday, and he had no reason to see me, my life, and his, I assumed, would go back to normal.
For me, I didn’t think it would be so easy.
I already knew that I would miss Austin.
Hell, it felt like I was missing him even as we stood there in his parents’ driveway, as the Austin and Randall who’d weathered back-to-back storms, filling the time with silly movies, great meals, and the most intense lovemaking of my life were wiped away, and Marty’s old friend and his son stared at his house.
I was walking toward the hatchback as the front door opened.
“There they are!” an excited female voice exclaimed.
It was followed quickly by a male voice. “Hey, son. How was the drive?”
I had spoken to them both on the phone numerous times since Stephanie had hunted me down but hearing them from right there in the driveway flooded me with memories of our time together.
It was overwhelming, but it put things into perspective.
I was their old college friend, and the nickelodeon playing in my head, flashing memories of our time together back then, reminded me of that with a guilty jolt.
That was my reality: nerdy sidekick who ran away from the only friends he’d ever had because of some stupid gay boy’s crush on his straight best friend.
My reality decidedly was not the handsome young man who thought I looked like Superman, and who’d killed some time in my home and in my bed.
That was a fantasy, a moment out of time, trapped as we were in that snow globe.
The globe had shattered, setting us free, and I convinced myself that Austin would use his newfound freedom to put any thought of us out of his head.
It made me glad we’d talked during the drive, and that we hadn’t arrived as some secret couple.
“Where are you hiding him, Aus?” I heard backs being slapped, and I could picture my old friend embracing his son.
“Nice to see you, too, Dad,” Austin joked, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Just because he wasn’t meant for me didn’t mean I could ignore all the things that charmed me about Austin.
His lighthearted nature and witty humor were right up there with his empathy and intuition.
He would make a good pediatrician, I decided, and like with his father before him, I had to stop myself from imagining him doing so in a snowy little mountain town, where he could come home to his doting older partner and share the successes and sorrows of his days.
My heart ached for a loss that was not real.
I popped the hatch and buried my head inside, dragging the heavy cooler to the edge.
“Whoa, hold up, Randall! Leave that. It’s too big for one person.”
Austin was at my side with a few quick steps, leaning into the vehicle so close to me that our shoulders touched.
I think I felt him lean into me in a subtly quick motion, his shoulder communicating with mine.
He reached for his duffle bag as he whispered to me, “Go on, say hi to Mom and Dad.” His soft, sweet smile let me know he understood everything I was feeling.
It would have been so nice to be with someone who understood how I felt.
“Deep breath,” I muttered out loud before I could think the better of it. Austin still had his head in the trunk with me, and we moved luggage around, pretending to be unloading our things.
“You got this, babe.”
I stood too quickly and clipped my head on the SUV. Austin reached out and caressed my forehead. “You okay?” I nodded. “Go!” His eyes danced.
I turned, and Marty was right there, may actually have been there long enough to see his son touch my face.
“Special Agent Martin Lessand,” Marty joked, reaching out a hand to me.
My heart pounded, but my words were true. “It is good to see you, old friend.”
“Holy fuck, ET. It’s good to see you too.
” He embraced me then, ignoring the hand he had outstretched to me, slapping my back three times as I’d heard him do to his son.
He pulled back but held onto my upper arms, leaning in to look at me.
“But I don’t think I can call you my old friend.
Damn, Randy, you look good.” He squeezed my arm before letting go and turning his head toward the house.
I followed his eyes, and we both watched as Austin landed on the top step and hugged Stephanie.
“Hey, honey. Check it out! Randy got hot.” Austin whipped around to face us, and his eyes locked with mine, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.
Behind him, Stephanie laughed. “Well, you can see nothing’s changed around here, Randy. Marty still has no filter. Come on, you two, it’s fucking freezing out here. Grab your shit and get in the house.”
I reached for my suitcase, and Marty yanked the handle from me as it hit the ground.
Austin was back by our sides. “Oh good, Dad. Here, take this too.” Austin handed him his laundry bag, then tapped me on the small of the back.
I really wished he would stop touching me.
He’d done it so casually and right there in front of his father. “Let’s grab the cooler.”
“Cooler?” Marty asked.
Austin spoke as we hefted; I, apparently, was incapable of that particular function in the midst of my old friends and their son. It was going to be a long week. How I wished I could crawl back under the snow globe. It’s shattered, my ever-helpful brain reminded me.
“Oh my God, Dad!” Austin began before he looked at me, crooking his head toward the SUV. “On three. One, two, three.” He let out an adorable and somewhat-familiar-sounding little grunt that brought back memories in a very tactile way my pants tightened.
Austin led the way and finished his thought to his father.
“You should have seen us at the grocery store. We bought a shit ton of food. And a whole case of beer, of which we drank exactly one each! The cashier thought we were having a party. And we were like, nah, just preparing for the storm. This is all for us!”
As if he could sense my nervousness and was trying to help, he laughed encouragingly and looked at me as we lugged the cooler to the house.
“We didn’t even pack any of the booze,” he shared as we hobbled to the front door. “Too bad. It was a really good IPA.”
I found my voice as we mounted the front steps and stepped through the door.
“Actually, that’s not quite true. There are two bottles in there that I’d bought earlier.
One red, one white. I just assumed things hadn’t changed that much between you two, and that I’d need one of each as a hostess gift. ”
Marty had kicked off his shoes and took the handle from me.
Our hands brushed, and I remembered how I used to avoid touching him when we were younger, afraid that my feelings would pour out through my skin and send a message to my otherwise-clueless friend.
The brush of his hand sent no shockwaves through me, standing in his foyer, his embrace in the driveway truly just the embrace of two old friends.
“Here, I got this. Kick off those boots, then take the other side from the kiddo. We’ll deposit this in the kitchen, and I’ll give you the grand tour. Aus, your mom took the laundry bag upstairs for you.”
Austin kicked off his shoes as I traded off holding the cooler with him. Our fingers brushed as well, and the part of my body that had started to calm down perked up again as a zing worked its way through me, and my heart skipped a beat.
He scurried up the stairs that were directly in front of the entrance as he yelled, “Wait, Mom. That stuff’s all clean.”
“Jesus, Austin.” I could hear Stephanie from down the stairs. “Did you make the poor man do your laundry?”
I caught Austin looking down my way with a smile as his father led me past the stairs, through a dining room, and to the kitchen. I could also hear his response, which he shared rather loudly, for our benefit, I presumed.
“I know how to do my own laundry, Ma!”
With a “harumph,” Marty and I hoisted the cooler to the square island with the forest-green countertop that took up the center of the kitchen.
He opened the lid and looked inside. “That’s a lot of fucking food.”
“We didn’t know how long we’d be.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Randy.” He hugged me again, and I felt none of the tension and none of the energy that I used to during our roommate days.
“When we invited you, we didn’t mean for you to be stuck with the kiddo like that.”
The word “kiddo” sounded so wrong, but Austin was his kid, after all, so really it was just a reminder that I had swapped one anxiety for another when I was around Martin.
“Well, you can’t predict the Upstate New York weather. At least he made it from Hampstead okay, and we were stocked up and back at my cabin before the worst of it hit.”
Martin had a hand in the cooler. “This stuff is still cold,” he said, pulling the two bottles of wine out and placing them in a wine cooler that was tucked amongst the kitchen cabinets, under the counter.