Dan & Tyler 2 - Wintergreen (23 page)

"I'm going to take that vacation, Cole. Don't try and stop me at the airports or tail me. Just let me go." He paused and then added, "Please."

 

Cole liked his agents to be polite. Tyler would have said thank you as well, but Cole hadn't let him go yet.

With his journey abruptly terminated, he stood looking around him. Which way? East or west? He hated retracing his steps as much as anyone, but ahead held no appeal: gray cities and gray skies -- but behind him lay the ocean.

He got back into his truck and started the engine. Up ahead, a rig was kicking up dust in a swirling cloud, a lumbering behemoth that would pass him soon, heading west. Tyler started the engine and turned the truck around in a squeal of tires that put a grin on his face. The rig fell behind him as he drove away and somehow, going in this direction, the road looked different; a beckoning finger.

Tyler told himself that he wouldn't slow down passing the Seaton farm. Wouldn't even look at it, hoping to catch one final glance at Dan.

 

Lying to himself worked about as well as playing chess solo the winter before this one. Stalemate.

 

***

Alison had said all the right things when she'd walked in and found Dan at the kitchen table. If her eyes had held just a flash of irritation when the surprise had faded, well, it was understandable, and she'd hugged him warmly. Dan's sling had meant that it was a careful hug, but he'd
felt
hugged, which was something.

He'd repaid her by saying all the right things back, which included congratulations on the upcoming wedding and assurances to Matt, silent by the doorway, that no, he didn't mind that Matt had his room now.

At some point in the babble, he found himself saying that he wouldn't be staying for long and discovered that he meant it and was okay with it. His homecoming had gone better than he'd expected, but an hour here and he was already finding it hard to breathe. Too familiar, too constricting… After the freedom he was used to, he couldn't just step back inside the box he'd lived in most of his life.

"Just until my arm heals and I can look for work. Maybe even just a day or two. I'm not back for good."

 

Was that relief on all three faces?

 

"But you only just got here!" Allison protested. "And it's the wedding in three weeks; you'll still be here for that?"

It was impossible to interpret his father's expression, all frown and tight lips. Peter could have been pleading with Dan to stay and support him against a rising tide of white frosting and lace, or asking him to quietly walk away now that they were as reconciled to each other as they were likely to get. Weddings were for couples, and Dan would be expected to have a date. Peter wasn't going to like Dan showing up at the wedding with a guy on his arm, and there was no way that Dan would cave to pressure and invite a woman. Either way, he didn't know anyone to invite, and they'd be there just for show; he wasn't interested in anyone but Tyler.

Pointless, all of it.

"I don't think so, sorry." That sounded too blunt, and he added, "It's not like you were expecting me to be there. I'd throw off all the seating plans."
From the wince Alison gave, that point had been a good one to make. Dan had never been around a wedding in its planning stage, but he'd seen enough of them on TV to know that unexpected, last-minute changes were every bride's nightmare.

"I just wanted Dad to know that I was okay," he said.

 

"And now that you have, you're leaving?" Alison asked. "Oh, Dan… I hope you know that Matt and I would never want you to feel unwelcome here. This is your home."

 

Peter nodded. "I told him that," he said, his voice gruff. He jerked his chin at Dan. "What are your plans, son?"

 

Plans? He had to have a plan? "Travel. See stuff, you know?" He couldn't keep the triumph out of his voice as he added, "Already made it to the ocean."

His dad had always treated that particular ambition with scorn, dismissing it as childish, as if Dan had said he wanted to go to the moon. Now that Dan knew just how easy it was to get there, he was the one feeling contempt for his father's lack of adventure. Peter hadn't ever left the state, let alone the country.

Peter sniffed on cue, his expression dubious. "Salt water. Can't plow it, can't live on it. I don't see the point."

 

Matt opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again when he caught Peter's eye.

 

"It doesn't need to have a point," Dan said. "It's just there. And it's fucking incredible."

He stood before the rising flush on his dad's face could translate to a demand that he apologize for swearing in front of Alison and headed for the door. "I'm going to take a look around. Get some fresh air."

He didn't look back.

Once outside, he took the first easy breath since he'd arrived, the familiar smell of earth and manure attaching itself to him, wrapping around his head like a wet blanket. He'd get used to it soon, but right now it was pungent to say the least.

The place hadn't changed; no reason why it should have. Fields destined for potatoes lay waiting, placed around the house like quilt patches, their brown soil dark from the rain that had fallen overnight, lightening as the sunlight dried and warmed the ground.

Dan wandered toward the small stand of apple trees that sheltered the kitchen garden. Tightly furled buds were showing hints of white between the green, but it was too early for them to burst out into the starry blossom that Dan had never quite believed really turned into apples, small, tart, and juicy. His mouth watered remembering the taste of them and the way they'd fitted, sunwarm and smooth-skinned, against his palm.

"Hey."

 

Dan turned and saw Matt standing a few yards away, looking uncertain of his welcome.

 

"Hi, Matt."

 

"You in the mood for company?"

 

"Sure," Dan said cautiously, wondering if Matt was here as a messenger, and if so, who had sent him. "Just don't bother giving me the guided tour. I've seen it all before."

 

Matt smiled, his brown eyes gleaming under a thick shock of white-blond hair. "I guess you have at that."

 

They walked in silence for a while, following the fence around the biggest field, the new grass springy under their feet.

 

"So what's it like living out here?" Dan asked finally. "Must feel weird after being in town?"

 

Matt shrugged. "It's okay. Better than hanging around the bars with no money for more'n a beer or two. Your dad pays me, and I'm saving up…"

 

"What for?" Peter had paid Dan once he'd turned eighteen, but not much. To be fair, he hadn't charged Dan rent, so it evened out. "A car?"

 

"House," Matt said briefly. "Place of my own."

 

"Unless he's paying you a lot more than he paid me, it's going to be a while before you need to think about buying curtains."

 

"I'm not the only one doing the saving," Matt said. "I'm engaged. Trish Parker."

 

"Wow." He was saying that too much, with a fake, desperate edge to it, but it just kept popping out. "Trish. You and Trish Parker. That's just… wow."

 

Matt laughed. "You don't remember her, do you?"

"Not one little bit," Dan said. "You were a couple of years ahead of me, and you hung out with the jocks. Unless she's the one who dumped a pitcher of fruit punch over your head when you pinched her ass at the Homecoming dance?"
"That's my baby," Matt said with evident pride. "She's got a job in town as a realtor, working with Tommy Biddell. She's still learning the ropes, but she made this great sale last week to a retired couple from Des Moines. See, they'd always wanted a place by a river…"

Dan tuned out the story that followed. Too many names he didn't recognize, and those he did, he didn't care about. Matt was being nice, but like his dad's kindness, it was just making him feel even more like Alice wandering around Wonderland, lost and confused.

"You mean it when you say you're moving on?" Matt said after his anecdote had ended and Dan had made some appreciative noises. "Because there's enough work to go around. Your dad's going to be hiring someone soon, but he'd like it if it was you."

"Now, he would," Dan said. "In a few months? Not so much."

"Because of the uh, the gay thing?" Matt shook his head. "Yeah, that didn't go down well, but he's over it. Mom talked to him and made him see that it wasn't the end of the world. And if he wants grandchildren, well, Trish will see to that. She wants a big family."

The mild smugness in Matt's voice was annoying, but Dan let it go. The sun was pleasantly warm, and he felt drowsy and spaced-out. He hadn't slept well in his hospital bed, alternating between drug-induced naps that left him groggy and long hours of trying to get comfortable and failing. Arguing with Matt was too much effort.

"I can't stay," Dan said. "I've got -- there's this guy…" Was there? Was getting back with Tyler even a vague possibility? They'd left it so up in the air… why had they done that? Dan felt, fiercely and unfairly, that Tyler should have stopped him from walking away. Should have realized that Dan was still getting over what had happened and wasn't in the best frame of mind to be making big, life-changing decisions.

Pushing him around just wasn't Tyler's style, though, and Dan knew that he would've resented it if Tyler had tried. Tyler had always accepted the restlessness and independence that Dan's father had tried to eliminate. Sure, Tyler had gone after Dan when he'd run away -- twice -- but…

"Earth to Dan," Matt said, and snapped his fingers under Dan's nose. "What man?"

 

Dan blinked until Matt's face came back into focus and then turned and leaned on the fence, the worn, silver-gray wood warm against his stomach and thighs. "Short version?"

Matt joined Dan at the fence, his muscular body making Dan feel small. Tyler had been just as strong, if not as Hulk-like, but he had never made Dan feel -- oh, for fuck's sake, he was thinking about Tyler
again
. "I'm not going anywhere."

"There's not much to say either way," Dan admitted. "I left here, heading for Canada -- Luke had gone there, and I guess I thought I might see him, and yeah, I know how dumb that sounds, but I needed something to aim at."
"He was a jerk," Matt said with unexpected force. "Forget him."

"I have," Dan assured him. "Totally. So, anyway, I was hitching rides, and that wasn't going well. Luke isn't the only jerk out there." He caught the sudden tension in the man beside him and gave Matt a sidelong smile. "Relax. Nothing happened. Well, nothing much… I lost my gear, though, and I was just about close to starving, lost in the woods, when I met Tyler."

Telling Matt about Tyler was like pressing on a bruise or picking off a scab; painful, but oddly satisfying. Dan gave Matt a much-edited story, making Tyler a Marine with PTSD, and the encounter with Paula reduced to a bland reference to a bar fight, but by the time he'd finished, he was awash with nostalgia.

"He just dropped you off?" Matt said slowly, and pointed at the road. "Let you get out over there and drove away?"

 

"Mm," Dan said, his lips pressed tightly together to stop them from saying more than he wanted to share.

 

"Man, and I thought that Luke guy was an asshole."

 

Dan turned on Matt, ignoring the throb from his arm as he knocked it against the fence. "What did you just say?"

There was no trace of apology in Matt's expression. "You've lived with him for months, gotten him though some bad patches, and when you need him, he bails? I'm just saying that the guy sounds like a jerk."

"I
told
him to go," Dan said, indignant on Tyler's behalf. "I made him bring me here."

 

Matt shrugged. "It doesn't sound like he took much persuading to dump you."

"Fuck
you
," Dan said, and watched Matt's eyes narrow dangerously. Oh, yeah, that looked more like the Matt Dan remembered… the one who'd hung Ted Ellis from a tree branch for mouthing off, wedging it between Ted's belt and the waistband of his jeans and left Ted there struggling until the branch broke. "You don't know him. You don't know
me
."

"Fine," Matt said levelly, keeping hold of his temper better than Dan had expected. "You're both assholes. Happy now?"

Dan wanted to punch something, preferably Matt, but it would be a fleeting release of tension at best, and the consequences -- guaranteed to be painful -- would wipe out the gains. He settled for some deep breaths, which worked about as well as he'd expected, and then lashed out with his foot, giving the fence a solid kick that jarred his leg. "Fuck!"

"I'll take that as a no." That sounded like something Tyler would have said, but Matt's voice lacked the dry affection Dan was used to; the smugness was showing again.

"I needed space," Dan said. "I needed to come back home and deal with what I'd left behind."

 

"You ran again," Matt said, "but this time, you ran home. I guess that's a smarter choice." Which summed it all up neatly.

"Shit, I did, didn't I?" Dan murmured under his breath. Dan glanced at Matt and gave him a bitter smile as the truth sunk in. "Took off the way I always do, and pretended I was being all mature when I was just -
God
. I promised I wouldn't do it again, and he let me, he just fucking
let
me--"

"Uh, yeah," Matt said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, looking as if he wanted out of the conversation. "That's what I said, remember?"

"I've got to talk to him." Filled with decision now, Dan took out his phone and called the last dialed number as the quickest way of getting to hear Tyler's voice. Discovering that Tyler had turned off his phone was a slap in the face. Telling himself that it might just be a loss of signal to blame, he shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Can't get through."

"Sounds like you're not the only one who wants space," Matt said with a wise nod.

 

Dan shoved his useless phone back in his jacket. "Matt? If Trish ever wants to talk to you about her feelings, just nod and smile, okay? Because you suck at this kind of thing."

 

"Just calling 'em as I see 'em, bro."

 

"I'm not your brother," Dan snapped.