11. Rusty
eleven
Rusty
I turned over the engine of Travis’s old Dodge. I had about fifteen minutes to get to church before the service started, but that was plenty of time. I wasn’t particularly religious, but going there helped. The rituals and repetition were soothing. I liked how Father Perez was an activist too. His sermons were always inclusive, and he loved challenging the conservative views of the evangelical Christian mega churches that were popping up everywhere. It was a nice change from what we were constantly being bombarded with in the media and while doomscrolling.
But right now, I wasn’t stuck on bad news. I was lonely. Travis and Jacques had been gone for less than a day—not even twenty-four hours—and they were all I could think about. I was missing them like crazy. I could have gone to Vegas with them, but the thought of so much peopling was more than I could cope with. My mental health had been a little rocky of late, and I didn’t want to push it. I’d been looking after myself and keeping up my routines, but some days it was a struggle. Going to a big city always pushed me to my limit, and I didn’t want to ruin their trip. My anxiety and panic attacks were manageable most of the time, but I knew it’d be too much.
The panic attacks had been a fun new development after a few years of working in Silicon Valley in one of the big tech companies. It was nothing like Google’s head office. Ours was made up of rabbit warren cubicles, fourteen-hour days with no natural light, rarely any coffee or lunch breaks, and deadlines so tight that you were expected to carry on achieving your KPIs during your mental breakdown. Commuting home to San Diego on the weekends had quickly turned into every other weekend, then monthly. After two months of me not going home, Travis and Jacques had driven up themselves and literally wheeled me away from my desk the moment it hit 5:00 p.m.
I’d slept the entire time I was home, waking up only to eat. Two months of insomnia had left me exhausted, but I’d used my sleepless nights productively—I’d been tinkering with the game I’d designed in college. I’d turned it into an addictive, mind-numbing de-stressor.
Leaving the ranch that weekend had triggered my first panic attack. My introversion and sheer exhaustion from being worked to the bone had officially morphed into anxiety that then crippled me for far too long.
When I received an offer for the game I’d designed and uploaded to the App Store, Jacques and Travis begged me to sell it. They wanted me out of that toxic environment so I could come home to them. That offer had saved me and gave me security for the rest of my life. It was my savior. I’d signed on the dotted line, and Travis had driven me out of Silicon Valley that day.
This ranch was my favorite place in the world. It was my safe haven. I’d finally found the right medication, changed my lifestyle, and learned how to look after myself. The time I’d spent working in the toolshed at home with Dad, learning about timber and how to use his lathe, had given me an outlet too. I honed my skills and turned my hobby into a small business to keep me busy.
Since getting my life back on track, my anxiety and panic attacks had been manageable. I still had off days—they were to be expected. But apart from the past few weeks, I’d been a lot better. I didn’t want another setback, so staying here while Travis and Jacques travelled had made sense.
Still, I wished I’d gone with them. We didn’t spend every moment with one another, but we guarded the off-season fiercely. It was our sacred time. The three of us spent as much time together as we could. I only did commissions by special request during those months, but summer was busy for firefighters, so Travis was often doing longer shifts. It was always a balance.
I ran my hand over the steering wheel and smiled. Driving Travis’s truck—his prized possession—and wearing one of Jacques’s shirts made me feel closer to them.
The beat-up truck that he’d had since college rumbled to life, and I huffed out a laugh as the radio immediately crackled through the speakers. Listening to the radio was so old-school, so Travis. But even if he had a streaming subscription, he wouldn’t be able to listen to it in this old beast.
The song finished as I backed out of the barn and turned around the old oak tree that dominated our yard. The barn was off to the side of our sprawling homestead on the opposite side of the drive from the stables. We’d planted trees close to the house to maximize the shade, but the hundred-year-old valley oak was my favorite.
“Breaking news just in,” the announcer said, excitement in his voice. “We have some hot gossip for you straight from TMZ! San Diego Seals superstar, Jacques Gauthier, was reportedly married last night in an intimate service in Las Vegas. We don’t know who the older mystery woman is, but we’ll be following the story with interest. It seems like San Diego’s most eligible bachelor is off the market.”
I slammed the brakes on, sending a dust cloud into the air that immediately filled the cab. My head went fuzzy, and there was a buzzing in my ears that had nothing to do with the gritty taste on my tongue. My heart raced and my chest tightened, a weight constricting it.
My hand shook as I reached for the parking brake and engaged it. I took the truck out of gear and let it idle while dizziness overtook me.
“One hundred, ninety-seven, ninety-four, ninety-one,” I murmured, trying to distract myself from the panic welling up inside me like rising floodwater.
How? How could this have happened? They were supposed to go away for the weekend. They were supposed to show her a fun few days after her divorce. I’d expected that one or both would sleep with Carina, and I was okay with that. I may be demi, but I wasn’t blind. She was gorgeous, exactly their type. We’d agreed early in our relationship that we would always be open. But getting married?
Being blindsided by a radio announcement was…. Fuck, my head was spinning.
I forced my hands to work and slowly reached for the key, then turned off the ignition. Concentrating on something—anything other than the thought of losing them because of this—helped. I inhaled slowly and watched as my hands shook where I rested them on the steering wheel.
My plans for church had just been cancelled.
Father Perez knew the three of us were together—he’d known from the very beginning. When I’d told Travis and Jacques that I wanted to try going to church, they’d come with me that first time. I’d been lost, desperate for something to ground myself with. I’d sat down and closed my eyes, trying to find peace. It hadn’t worked, but when I’d opened them, I saw Travis and Jacques having a quiet word with the parish priest. They’d outright asked him his views on same-sex relationships and polyamory. Father Perez had hidden his surprise under a serene smile and was gracious enough to consider the question before answering. He’d said that if the bible taught love, acceptance, and tolerance, who was he to disregard the word of God? He welcomed us into the church with open arms and promised we were in a safe space. He’d kept his word, too, shutting down bigotry and always checking in on me whenever something cropped up.
There was no way I could walk in there now. Not without answers. Not when I was already on the edge of spiraling into a full-blown anxiety attack. I wasn’t prepared to receive all the well wishes from the families who knew us but thought we were simply roommates. They wouldn’t hesitate to ask me to pass on their congratulations, and I’d die a little more inside with each one of them.
Exhaling slowly, I unbuckled my seatbelt and forced myself to open the door. Nothing bad will happen. I repeated the mantra to myself over and over, trying to persuade my panic-stricken brain that my fears were unfounded. But that voice inside my head echoed the worst case-scenario back at me— it already has. Jacques got married. He doesn’t want you anymore.
My movements were mechanical, as if I were hovering outside my own body. Numbness warred with the sharp pain piercing my heart, both of them building up and drowning me.
Zeus, our pup, raced up and down beside the truck, the dust cloud billowing as he turned to start his next lap. My feet hit the ground, and Zeus skidded to a halt. He pressed his cold nose against my hand, nudging me until I scratched his head.
“Good boy,” I choked out, my voice wooden.
Why was this happening now? Why had Jacques gotten married? Was he unhappy? Did he want to move out? Why had he never talked to me about it? Maybe he didn’t want to hurt me or to trigger a panic attack. Stupid brain. What about Travis? What would happen to us? Would he go with Jacques? Would they want me to leave instead?
Powerlessness shot through me. I curled in on myself, trying to become as small as I could. If I made myself disappear, I wouldn’t be holding either one of them back. I wanted to cry, to shout out until my voice was hoarse.
All that escaped was a whimper.
Zeus stayed close, sticking by my side as I stumbled closer to the shade of the wraparound veranda of the homestead. Zeus pressed harder against me and whined. He wasn’t a therapy dog, but he was as close to it as they came, and I needed his steady touch. He kept me grounded, and the way he sat or laid on me and nudged and licked me until I pet him helped force me out of my head.
Jacques’s shirt was loose on me, but I was struggling to breathe. I was suffocating from the tightness in my chest. I needed it off me. My fingers were useless as I fumbled with the buttons. Finally, I had it open. I dropped it at the front door.
I steadied myself against the stone wall, which was warm beneath my cold hands. I was torn between frustration at myself, powerlessness at being left here alone to wonder, and fear that my entire world was about to collapse around me. I was cold—so cold. I ran my hand over the door, the timber warm and smooth. I’d made these doors—heavy slabs of recycled walnut that I’d meticulously sanded and stained until they were perfect.
I opened the door, and Zeus pushed in before I could stop him. Not that I would—all he wanted was to comfort me—and when he was close, I could breathe.
My jeans, shoes, and socks landed in a haphazard pile next to the front door as I stripped them off. Zeus nudged me, and I buried my hands in his short coat and pressed my forehead to his face.
“Good pup,” I reiterated, unable to say much more. I needed to talk to them, but first I needed to get my emotions under control. Swinging from panic to frustration and fear without being able to catch a breath was going to make me pass out.
“Come,” I commanded quietly as I headed for the sunroom, using the wall for support. My yoga mat was spread out on one side of the light-filled room, Zeus’s bed right next to it. But he didn’t climb on. He stayed close, always touching me.
I slumped onto my mat, and Zeus laid across my legs, one hundred pounds of Staffy acting like a weighted blanket.
I sucked in a lungful of air, finally able to breathe. But all it did was raise all my fears again.
Was Jacques coming back? Was Travis? Insecurity plagued me. My mind raced, conjuring up every worst-case scenario. But there was really only one—one or both never came back.
I needed to center myself, to work off the disquiet that had burrowed inside me. I needed to slow my heart rate and even out my breathing. I started counting backward again, but my mind jumped straight back to Jacques and Travis.
Sex between us was incredible—hot, rough, and tender. Travis and Jacques loved being with women too. It had been a while since they’d indulged, but I would never stop them. I wanted them to have everything they enjoyed, and it had the added bonus of keeping the media off Jacques’s tail.
But marriage?
I’d assumed we’d always be together. Jacques getting married to Carina likely meant the end of us. A wedding meant monogamy. It meant staying faithful to your spouse—Carina. Where did that leave me? Would Jacques walk away? Would Travis and I stay together? Could our relationship survive it?
I could share—I did share—but what if Jacques didn’t want that anymore? They were supposed to come home tomorrow. Were they still coming? Or were they going to jet off somewhere for an impromptu honeymoon?
I hadn’t even heard from them. Was that a cue, a hint? Was I supposed to make myself scarce? Did she even know about me? About us?
The thoughts were running through my head at warp speed. It was like the intro song to The Big Bang Theory— images flashing before my eyes at a million miles a minute. I couldn’t keep up. My chest tightened again, and my hands shook. I dropped my phone to the floor.
It landed face up, and I swiped it open. Hearing their voices would help. It always did. I rang Jacques, but the call went straight to voicemail. He’d turned it off. Travis had done the same. My gut sank.
We rarely called each other. They knew I wouldn’t telephone them unless it was an emergency. They’d better have a good excuse for not answering. They’d better call me back.
They will.
At least I hoped they would.
Zeus shifted, sitting up and using my leg as a paw-rest. He had no concept of personal space, and I wrapped my arms around his muscly body and held him close. He licked my cheek, and I held him tighter, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
He leaned against me, letting his weight drop until I was fully supporting him. It was exactly what I needed.
“You always make me feel better,” I whispered. I loosened my grip and petted his back, then scratched behind his ears. It earned me more licks.
I inhaled slowly, holding it for a three count, then exhaled. I tensed every muscle in my body, then conscientiously relaxed each one from my scalp all the way to my toes. I breathed in and out, petting Zeus the whole time. I concentrated on the blue of his hairs, and the way his own muscles tensed and released when I scratched him in a spot he loved.
When Zeus sensed I was calm enough, he shifted and stretched out on the mat next to me, rolling onto his back so I could scratch his belly. He was spoiled rotten, but he was worth it.
I worked my way through a seated yoga session, rarely taking my hand away from Zeus. I stretched and held each of the more and more complex poses until my muscles shook. I gradually came back to myself. My thoughts slowed and turned from dark and foreboding to something lighter. Stronger too.
I needed to focus on the positives, the certainties of how our relationship worked. I needed to expel the negative energy and focus on us. All I knew was that I wasn’t giving them up without a fight. I’d understand if Jacques wanted to end things between us. I’d hate it, I’d be fucking crushed, but I’d understand. He was still in the closet after all these years. I wanted more, but I didn’t have a way to get it until Jacques came out. Maybe not even then given we hadn’t told Jacques’s parents because of Travis. He’d begged Jacques not to risk their disapproval.
I just needed to talk to them. Whatever the future held, I knew that if I could get them to talk to me about it, we’d be okay. We didn’t play games with one another. We communicated. We didn’t leave the others hanging. Until now. But I had to take it as an exception rather than the new state of being.
I was exhausted in an agitated kind of way. I needed to create to remind myself that there was beauty in the world—in my world. I dressed and slipped on my steel-capped boots before making my way over to my shed. Zeus was on my tail the whole time.
I flicked on the overhead lights and went to my latest creation, a six-foot long and three-foot wide tree trunk that I’d turned to create an amphora-style pot, minus the handles. The timber was full of knots and color variations ranging from blond to the deepest mahogany. Once I applied the wax, it would be stunning. It was already one of my favorite pieces.
I picked a fine grade sandpaper and sat before the pot, losing myself in the repetitive task of smoothing every small bump.
My hands were cramped when I heard the car roll up into the drive. I shook them out and stretched out my neck and back. I was stiff from being hunched over, but panic attacks—even mild ones—always left me achy. I walked to the shed door, watching as Jacques flew out of the car, leaving his passengers in it, and raced inside the house. My heart tripped, beating harder and faster with the knowledge that he’d come back to me.