6. Chapter Six
Chapter Six
Max
I glanced again at Jake before I opened the box. He was about my height, but built , presumably from the years of swinging a hammer or whatever it was he did to fix things. Either way, I wouldn’t mind if he came by the rental house and fixed mine. I was getting definite vibes from him. I’d caught his eye a few times that day and he’d blushed and looked away. He seemed interested, but who knew? Construction workers weren’t exactly famous for being out and proud.
Fine, whatever , I thought. It didn’t change the fact that I was almost certain I’d caught him checking me out when I’d arrived. His short dark hair was pushed back, away from his eyes, and tattoos covered his forearms. What looked like two-day-old stubble covered his face. I wondered what that stubble would feel like between my—no. Nope. I could not let myself fantasize about the hot, irritable construction foreman I’d have to work side-by-side with for the next two-ish months. No way.
“Well, are you going to open it?” Jake barked.
“ Fine , Jesus, quit rushing me.” I attempted to lift the lid, but the hinges protested as I did. The latch was gone, but the hinges held the box mostly closed anyway.
“Need help?” When I looked at Jake, he was smirking at me, one eyebrow raised.
“I can get it,” I muttered, hooking my fingers between the lid and the bottom of the box. After a little more tugging, the screws holding the hinges in place splintered the wood and the box was open.
Side-by-side, we peered into the box. It was full of papers, faded and yellowed with age. I picked up the top one and unfolded it, my gaze scanning the note it contained.
December 10, 1921
Dearest Nathan,
I received your letter yesterday. I could scarcely wait to hear how you have thought of me, and I read it immediately, but Father has kept me so busy that I’m just finding time to reply. He must know that something is amiss, as he is continually trying to find new chores for me to complete. For now, I have escaped to the quiet of my room, finally able to put pen to paper and speak my mind to you.
I miss you terribly. I’ve been so lonely without your laughter to keep my spirits up, without your strong arms to hold me, and without your tender kisses to, well, I’m sure you can imagine what I’d like your kisses to do. Life is not easy on the farm, less so without you. I can only pray that one day, we will be together again.
Of course I remember your last visit. It feels so long ago that we stole away to that smoky room and sipped on whiskey and held hands in the open. It was so thrilling and so terrifying at the same time. I wonder if people like us will ever be allowed to love openly. I can only hope.
I had a dream about you last night. You were here with me, and we took a blanket and spread it under the stars. We watched and made wishes and then made love, much the way we did all those months ago when you were here last. I woke in a sweat, barely able to breathe when I realized it was all in my imagination.
Tomorrow is the winter social I told you about. Mother and Father expect me to take your cousin Dot. I’d rather have you instead, but I know that’s not possible. Perhaps one day.
Yours,
Freddie
“It’s a letter,” I said in a daze. My heart was pounding and my stomach twisted. A love letter. It made me ache with longing and sorrow. Sorrow for the man who’d written the letter, and longing for a love of my own. Do not look at the hot construction worker , I told myself. You have to work together, there will be no fraternizing, no matter how much you want to.
“I can see that. Can we move on now?”
I blinked a few times and handed it to Jake hesitantly. “It’s a letter between lovers.”
“So?” He took the paper from me and frowned at it.
“Between two men.”
His gaze snapped up to me. “So?” he repeated, a little sharper.
“So… I don’t know. It’s nice. I wonder if that’s what the rest of these are.” I looked through a few more. They all started and ended with the same words. Dearest Nathan… Yours, Freddie . “Who’s Nathan?”
“How should I know?” He thrust the letter back at me. “It’s none of our business anyway.”
“I don’t know… I just thought he might be someone from Port Grandlin.”
With a snort, he shook his head. “Nineteen twenty-one? That’s over a hundred years ago. Nathan is probably in a retirement home if he’s even around anymore.”
I hummed and nodded. “You’re right. Can I keep these?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“I didn’t know if you wanted to take them to the historical society or the library or someone. Maybe the new homeowner.”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
I shook my head, second-guessing myself. “I’ll figure out what to do with them.” I wasn’t about to admit to Jake that I wanted to read them, to understand the story behind them. What had happened to the pair?
“Have it your way.” He stepped back and held up his hands in surrender.
I carefully placed the letter back into the box and tried to fit the lid on top. “A little light evening reading.”
“Whatever you say.” His eye roll told me he didn’t actually care much about what I was going to do with the letters.
“What’s next?” I looked around the room. “Should we finish the tour?”
“This way,” Jake said, leaving the room.
I hurriedly tucked the box under my arm and followed him through the rest of the upstairs and back down to the entryway. “Anything else?”
A crooked smirk crossed his lips. “Not unless you want to see the foundation?”
“Pass.” I patted the box. “I’ve got some reading I’m itching to get to. See you tomorrow morning for day one?”
He nodded once, looking pained—probably at the idea of being stuck with me for the next six-to-eight weeks. “Bright and early.”
“Perfect.”
We went our separate ways, him sliding into the big pickup truck and me getting into the rental car, placing the poor splintered box in the passenger seat. By the time I got it to the rental place, I was more than ready to read the rest of the letters, preferably with a glass of wine by my side.
When I walked through the door, Sterling was sitting on the couch of the place the studio had rented for us, intensely watching a competitor’s reality home decorating show and taking notes furiously. “Hey,” he said without looking up.
“Still studying?”
He paused the show and nodded at me, finally making eye contact. “I just want this to be my best possible performance, you know? Wait, what’s that?” He nodded at the box.
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” I sighed softly and put the box on the coffee table between us. “But first… you know I hired you because I already like your work, right?”
“Not just because I’m a pretty face?” He blinked his big blue eyes at me a few times and laughed.
“If you’re fishing for compliments, you can stop right there. You know I like them tall, dark and broody.”
“Do you have something to share with the class?”
I grinned. “Met a hot construction guy today.”
“Do tell.”
“Do you want the story about this box or the guy?”
Sterling tilted his head for a second while he thought about it—or at least feigned consideration. “The guy, obviously.”
I sat down next to him, toeing off my shoes and shoving them aside while I told Sterling everything I’d learned about Jake that day. When I was finished, I summed it up neatly. “Grumpy construction worker, but super hot. That cancels out, right?” Sterling raised his eyebrows in a look that said, Do you really want me to answer that? I chose to ignore it and continued. “Of course it does. The problem is, he’s the foreman . We’re going to be working side-by-side on this whole damned project.”
“Sucks to be you. At least he’ll distract you from the long hours? I don’t know. Okay, tell me about the box.”
My chest constricted and I felt suddenly, weirdly protective over the letters. “A project for work. I’ll tell you more when I know more.” Sterling scoffed and I shrugged. “I know, I know, I said I’d tell you, but it might be nothing, and I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up.”
“You do know I’m at least marginally involved in your actual job, right?”
“Hey, a man’s gotta have some secrets.” I picked up the box and pulled it close. “I promise, if it’s anything worth knowing about, you’ll be one of the first to know.”
“ One of the first?”
I shrugged. “Secrets. Now, did we bring any of that Cabernet with us? You know, from that winery we both liked?”
He turned back to the TV and pressed play again. “I don’t know, but if we do and you drink it all, I’m going to call your mom myself and tell her to come get you out of my house.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I called as I headed into the kitchen. “We both know you hate her as much as I do.”
Once I was settled in my room with the letters and my wine, I took a seat at my desk and started to read. The story was one-sided, of course, since I couldn’t read Nathan’s letters to Freddie, but the basic concept was evident. Young, gay love in the nineteen twenties. The letters spanned several years, and eventually they just… tapered off. When I was done, I was half-drunk, very much in love with Freddie myself, and brimming with sadness.
I had so many questions. How had they met? Besides homophobia, had there been a reason they couldn’t be together? What had happened to them, to their love? Was there more to the story?
I racked my brain for ideas on how to get answers. It took me too long in my wine-addled state to think about the library. Maybe the library will know something. Or at least have some resources. My librarian grandmother would have been appalled that it took me so long to think of it, but once it hit me, I could hardly wait to get to researching after work. I just had to make it through being in close proximity with Jake for a full day first.
I took one last sip of my wine before tucking the letters back into their original box and stowing it in the bottom drawer of my desk. One day of handling Jake and I could get to the library and start researching. I could definitely make that work. Right?