Handyman (3 page)

Not that Will expected anything different. Just the same, he found himself wondering… Jack challenged something in him. It wasn’t that he wanted or expected to get the guy in bed and turn him gay with one well-placed kiss. He just wanted to know more about him.

Why not just take the leap and ask? The last few days Jack had been working, he would take a break by going to his truck and eating a lunch no doubt packed by a dutiful wife. He would either sit in the cab or lean against it, enjoying the fresh spring air. Perhaps today Will would join him.

An hour later Jack popped his head into Will’s study, knocking lightly on the doorframe. “Excuse me, just wanted to let you know I’m taking a break. I’m nearly done for today. I piled the boxes of flooring in the kitchen. I’ll start to lay it down tomorrow. I think we should return the ceiling panels we bought to replace the old ones and work on restoring that amazing tin ceiling.”

“I agree, absolutely.” Will swiveled in his desk chair to face Jack. “You know,” he said, as if it had just occurred to him. “I have a table and chairs out back on the deck. I was thinking of eating my lunch out there today. Maybe you’d care to join me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Not at all. I’d love the company.” Will felt his cheeks flush, aware he sounded overeager. He shrugged with an exaggerated casualness. “You know, only if you want to. No big deal.”

Jack gave a half-smile and nodded. “Sure. That would be fine. I’ll just grab my lunch out of the truck and meet you around back.”

Will rushed into the kitchen, sidestepping the pallet laden with boxes of the laminate oak flooring he’d picked from the catalogue and Jack had purchased. He stopped a moment, taking in the empty room, which looked much larger now that the dividing wall between the kitchen and dining room had been pulled down. The higher ceiling would only add to the new feeling of space.

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine this hull of a room turning into the beautiful design Jack had come up with for him. Will was spending a pretty penny. He’d known he wanted something elegant but functional. It remained to be seen if Jack could pull it off.

Remembering his mission, Will tried to think of what to have for lunch. He usually ate out, if he ate a midday meal at all, which wasn’t often. Staring into the nearly empty refrigerator, he decided on some cheeses that didn’t look too bad, an apple and two bottles of Coke.

Stepping carefully over some nails still left on the floor, he entered the dining room, where the table and sideboard were piled high with the contents of the old kitchen cabinets and drawers. Rummaging a bit, he found a box of crackers. He secured a tray and placed the cheese and crackers on it, along with a plate, a knife and a bottle opener.

When he went out to the deck Jack was already seated at the patio table, a large paper sack in front of him. Will sat across from him, setting down his tray and the bottles of soda. “I brought you a Coke if you’d like it.”

“Well, look at that.” Jack lifted one of the small green-tinted glass bottles. “I haven’t seen a bottle like this in a long time.”

“I prefer cola from a glass bottle.” Will realized he must sound pompous.

“Me too, I guess. I lived on this stuff back when I was a kid. We’d collect the bottles in a wooden crate with slots for each bottle. We’d take them in for the nickels.” He cradled the bottle for a moment, staring down at it. It looked especially small in his large, beefy grasp.

He held out the bottle for further examination. “I got out of the habit of drinking soda years ago. My wife said it was bad for the boys’ teeth so we switched to sugar-free Kool-Aid for them, water and seltzer for me.”

Will handed the bottle opener to Jack, trying to picture the wife and children in his life. As Jack took it their fingers touched and Will felt an electric current of desire flow between them. He glanced sharply at Jack, who was focused entirely on the bottle. Whatever current had been flowing, it was definitely on a one-way path.

Still, Jack was opening up more than he usually did, perhaps because they were sharing a meal. Jack uncapped the bottle and took a long swig of the cola. With a satisfied sigh, he offered, “That’s good. Nice and cold.”

“I’ve got plenty more in the refrigerator.” In fact there were only two. He made a mental note to buy more. He watched as Jack unrolled the top of his paper bag and pulled out a large sandwich wrapped in foil.

“Must be nice to have a wife to make you lunch every day.” Will was reminded of the lunches his mother used to pack for him when he was in elementary school.

“Oh.” Jack’s face crumpled as though he’d received a blow. “I’m a widower. My wife died two years ago.”

Without realizing what he was doing, Will reached out a sympathetic hand, touching Jack’s bare forearm. Jack looked down at his hand and Will snatched it away. “I—I’m so sorry, Jack. I just assumed—I mean, you’re still so young, to lose your wife…”

“Yeah. It was sudden. An aneurysm. Apparently it ruptured in her brain. Five minutes later she was dead.”

“Oh my God, that’s awful. Were you there when it happened?” The words slipped out before he could censor himself.

“Yeah. She woke up with a really bad headache. I thought she was getting a cold. I went down and made her tea. She took one sip and—” Jack’s voice cracked.

“I’m sorry. Please, you don’t need to talk about it. It must still be very painful to recall.”

“Thanks. I miss her. We were married a long time. We grew up together really. It’s kind of a miracle we even stayed together, given we were so young when we tied the knot. Both our parents figured we’d divorce. Maybe we stayed together just to spite them.”

He shook his head and unwrapped his sandwich, lifting it for a bite. Will was silent, pondering what the hell Jack had meant by his speech, easily the longest one he’d given of a personal nature in the few days of their acquaintance. Was Jack saying he hadn’t really been happy in his marriage, but had stayed in it out of habit? Out of duty? Will found himself wildly curious, but didn’t dare ask. They weren’t friends, after all.

Jack swallowed and gestured toward the food on the tray. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Will, who had completely forgotten about the cheese and crackers, gave a small laugh. “Sure I am. Would you like some cheese and crackers? A slice of apple?”

“What kind of cheeses are those?”

“This one’s a Brie. It’s an especially good one I get from a gourmet shop in the city. It’s got a rich, mushroomy flavor and a silky interior texture. This one is goat cheese. It has a strong flavor and goes very well on these black pepper biscuits.”

He noticed Jack was watching him with a small, amused half-smile. Embarrassed, Will added, “I must sound like a pompous ass. I don’t mean to. I just love fine cheeses.”

“No, no. I’m interested, really. I don’t know much about cheese, except for Swiss, Cheddar and American, but I’m up for new things. I find I’ve become more adventurous as I grow older, rather than less so. Emily’s passing made me realize just how short life is. We have to seize every moment and not be afraid to experience something new—even goat cheese.”

Will laughed and stuck his hand into the box of imported crackers. He smeared some of the soft, pungent cheese over the cracker and held it out. Jack took it and popped it into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows as he chewed, nodding.

“It’s delicious,” he pronounced. “I do believe I’ll take another.”

Will was ridiculously pleased. He prepared another cracker and Jack again popped it into his mouth. He lifted his bottle of Coke and tilted back his head as he drank. Will had a sudden, almost uncontrollable desire to lean forward and lick along the curve of his throat.

He willed the erection rising in his pants to subside. This was insane. He had a crush on someone as straight as an arrow. What an idiot he was.

The heart wants what it wants.
Ruefully, he grinned inwardly, recalling Woody Allen’s infamous line about falling in love with his girlfriend’s adopted daughter. Stranger partners had come together, he thought, foolishly nursing a tiny bud of hope that sprang out of nowhere in his heart.

He saw Jack was again watching him, that curious half-smile on his face. Will held his gaze, wondering if there was the slightest spark he could cup with his hands and shield while it grew, willing it to blaze into a fire of passion between them. For a long moment they stared into one another’s eyes. Will was captivated, though he knew he should turn away.

Jack was the first to break contact. He reached into the paper bag and pulled out a plastic baggie of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. “Want one?” he said, dispelling the strange erotic mood that had settled over Will. “I made them myself.”

Jack sat staring at the TV. Or rather the TV was on and he was sitting in his favorite recliner, a can of seltzer beside him, an open paperback on his lap, his body facing the screen. But his mind was far away, drifting for some reason back to senior year in high school, before one night’s indiscretion turned his world upside down.

Before that year Jack and Luke had been nearly inseparable. Friends since seventh grade, they spent every possible weekend at one or the other’s house. They tried out for the same sports teams and studied together for tests. They stayed up late into the night talking and trying to teach each other to play guitar, which neither of them did very well, but both enjoyed.

Though they didn’t necessarily share any deep, dark secrets, there was an easy understanding between them. Jack always knew he could count on Luke to watch his back and be there when he needed him. They even talked about going into business together someday, though neither had much idea what they wanted to do.

Then the girls entered the picture. Like Jack and Luke, Emma and Patty were the best of friends. Emma admitted several years into their marriage that she and Patty had discussed and dissected the boys, deciding which one would better suit which girl. He’d been startled by her casual admission they’d ended up tossing a coin.

He thought about the two girls as they had been then—Emma, tall with dark wavy hair and deep brown eyes, her breasts small and high, her hips narrow, and Patty, petite and curvaceous, with strawberry blonde hair and eyes the color of cornflowers. Would he have fallen in love with Patty as easily as he had Emma if she had chosen him instead of Luke?

He could admit now, during the early years of their marriage, he hadn’t been in love with Emma. Over the years he’d come to love her and the life they shared. Back then, however, he didn’t know what love was.

A shy, gawky teenager, he hadn’t dated much when Emma set her sights on him. Emma, outgoing and popular, had floored him when she’d asked him to the autumn dance as her date. Patty had asked Luke, who was less shy than Jack and certainly more experienced.

Luke had already gone all the way with Cindy Stafford. Apparently most of the boys of the senior class had gotten lucky with Cindy at one time or another, but not Jack. Not that he would have refused if she’d shown up naked beneath a raincoat on his doorstep, as she’d purportedly done for the captain of the football team.

Luke had been pretty excited about losing his virginity, though he acknowledged he felt little for Cindy beyond a certain awe at her feminine charms. He admitted he felt kind of sorry for her because of her reputation as a slut, but it hadn’t stopped him from leaping at the chance to fuck her.

After the dance, Emma and Jack began dating, “going steady” as they used to say. Emma was an attentive girlfriend, sweet and devoted to Jack. Patty and Luke also became an item. Jack enjoyed being part of a couple for the most part—he was suddenly in the in crowd at school and the source of envy to the boys still not lucky enough to have found a girlfriend.

Though Luke and he remained good friends, something had changed between them. Luke and Patty were sexually active pretty much from the start of their relationship, while Jack and Emma had held back, neither ready to take such a big step. Luke spent every spare moment with Patty, leaving Jack lonely for his friend and for the simple, close times they used to share.

He knew this was part of growing up and tried to accept things as they were. Emma seemed very happy with him, often telling him she loved him and he was the best thing to ever happen to her. Sometimes, though he hadn’t been able to articulate it clearly back then, he felt almost suffocated by her constant attentions, but he didn’t have the heart, or perhaps the courage, to let her know.

She and Patty remained as close as ever, so it seemed to Jack, who sometimes accidentally overheard his girlfriend on the phone, telling Patty intimate details about their relationship he would never have dreamed of sharing with Luke, no matter how close they were.

Senior year hurtled to a close, drawing Jack along in its wake. Though he was fond of Emma, he was secretly looking forward to leaving her behind once he went off to college with his old friend, Luke.

There had been rumors circulating through the school that Luke and Patty were planning to marry after high school. Luke had bought Patty a friendship ring with a tiny diamond at its center. She’d told anyone who would listen it was an engagement ring. Privately Luke told Jack he had no intention of marrying Patty, but he let her have her little fantasy.

Then, a week before the prom, to the astonishment of those who knew them, Luke and Patty broke up. It happened when Luke, who was supposed to be away at a sporting event, returned home before schedule. Thinking he’d surprise his girlfriend, he showed up unannounced at her house.

A constant fixture there, he’d knocked on the front door and then let himself in. Patty’s parents weren’t home but she was. So was Dominic Connor, senior class president, voted most likely to succeed by his classmates. They were nearly naked, thrashing together on the living room couch. Luke took one look and that was that. It was over.

Despite her entreaties to forgive her, he was resolute. Jack had felt both admiration and frustration with Luke. If he really loved her, surely he’d forgive her? It was one stupid mistake, so she’d tearfully assured him. She’d tried to involve Jack, calling him to knock some sense into his friend. “We were studying for the math final. He brought some beer. One thing just led to another. I know it was stupid. I love Luke! We’re going to be married! He can’t just dump me, can he?”

Apparently he could. He refused to speak to her after that. Finally, after another long, tearful phone call from Patty, Jack agreed to try to talk some sense into his friend for her.

It was the night before the prom. Luke was brooding in his living room. As had been the case with Patty, this time it was Luke’s parents who were out of town. His older brother was away at college.

Jack came over, armed with a six pack of beer, not exactly sure what he would accomplish. They’d each had two beers apiece before Jack even broached the subject of Patty. At once Luke’s face closed and he held up his hand in warning.

“Did she send you over here, Jack? Be honest.”

“Luke, she’s a mess. She’s been crying on Emma’s shoulder ever since you broke up with her. She missed half her finals. She’s called me twice.”

Luke shook his head. “Jesus. Since when did a relationship become the business of the entire high school?” Jack was stung by this remark. He and Emma were hardly the entire high school, but he said nothing. Luke continued, “You and me have been friends a long time. There’s things about me and Patty you don’t know.”

“So tell me. I miss how we used to talk all the time. I miss our weekends before girls entered the picture.”

“Yeah, me too. I think I was so caught up in the sex thing, I let things that really mattered to me get away.” They were sitting side by side on the couch. Luke’s voice grew earnest. “I feel like life is going too fast sometimes, you know? Like we’re growing up too fast. I didn’t just break up with Patty because she was cheating on me. That’s not the first time she’s been with Dominic, whatever she might have told you or Emma.”

Jack was surprised by this, but made no comment. Luke added, “This whole thing with the engagement—that was all Patty. I didn’t make a big deal of denying it, because I didn’t want to embarrass her, but she knows I have no plans of marrying, certainly no time soon. I want to go to college. I want to travel the world. I want to explore all kinds of things.”

His eyes narrowed and glittered as he turned toward Jack. He dropped his hand to Jack’s thigh and reiterated, “All kinds of things.”

The sound of a ringing telephone pulled Jack back into the present. He took a breath and shook away the old memories. What had happened between Luke and him was ancient history. “Water under the bridge,” Emma would have said, though he’d never told her about that night. He’d never told a soul.

***

The floor was down—broad planks of richly toned oak that gave the room a warm feel. Jack was again on the ladder, painstakingly removing the few damaged tin tiles and replacing them with new ones. He’d managed to match the pattern, a classic butterfly oak leaf motif.

“I found these in a kitchen supply shop next to a pool hall I sometimes go to. These are actually original tiles the guy found at an estate sale. You can’t get much more authentic than that,” he added with a satisfied smile.

The new cabinets and countertops, still wrapped in huge swaths of clear plastic wrap, had been delivered and were taking up most of the living room. Will realized with a sharp pang that at the rate Jack was going, within a week or so the work would be done, and Jack would be gone.

It had been three days since their shared lunch on the deck. While Jack continued to be pleasant and friendly, he gave no hint of interest in anything but a professional relationship between them.

Will, used to getting what he wanted especially where men were concerned, was at a loss. That evening at the gym, in a moment of weakness, he confided in Paul. They had just finished a vigorous game of racquetball and were sharing a cold drink in the gym’s small café.

“So how goes it with your renovations?” Paul asked innocently.

“They’re going fine,” Will answered, feeling morose. “So fine they’re almost done. Then he’ll be gone.”

“Then who’ll be gone?”

“Jack. Jack Crawford, the handyman.”

“So what do you care?” Paul slapped his forehead. “I get it now. This is the dude I’m supposed to be jealous of. The married straight guy old enough to be your dad.” He laughed.

“He’s not old enough to be my dad,” Will retorted, annoyed. “He’s only fourteen years older than me. But yeah,” his face fell as he added, “he’s straight, all right.”

“You know my theory on that.”

“Yeah, yeah. You think no one’s immune, I know. You think the whole human race is just one big sexual treasure chest, waiting to be plundered. You think we’re all bisexual but society conditions us one way or the other. I know, I know.”

“Well, experience has borne me out, hasn’t it? Remember Jason?”

Jason was a sacker at the local supermarket, a Greek god, according to Paul. Paul had been smitten from the moment the guy asked him if he wanted paper or plastic. Engaged to be married, he’d nevertheless succumbed to Paul’s persistent charms. They’d had a wild couple of trysts before Paul had lost interest and moved on.

Will knew the only reason Paul remained interested in him was precisely because they never got involved above the waist. They were, to use Paul’s crude words, fuck buddies.

“I remember Jason, but he was just an impressionable kid. This guy is in his forties. He was married for a hundred years. No doubt he’s set in his straight-and-narrow ways.”

“Have you felt him out about it? Is he dating again? Seeing other women? If not, how come? Is he lonely? If you’re determined to get in this guy’s pants, maybe you could take the friend route.” Paul motioned with his fingers, drawing quotations in the air around the word “friend”. “You know, invite him out for lunch or drinks or something. Nothing too threatening. Get to know him outside the confines of his working for you. Be a sympathetic ear, if he needs one. Gently broach the subject of your own orientation. See how he reacts. Remember, most of what we want can be achieved if we just visualize the goal and go for it.”

As Will started to protest, Paul held up a hand. “Hey, you never know until you try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Unless he’s in that five percent of the population that is totally, one hundred percent straight, you’ve got a shot. Better than a shot, given your hot bod and dreamy green eyes. Shit, he’s probably already jerking off at night, thinking of you.”

Will shook his head. “Not everyone has your take on the world, Paul,” he said with a laugh. Nevertheless, maybe Paul was right, at least about the way to approach him. He’d wait until the job was nearly complete—that way Jack would have an easy out if he wasn’t interested.

That time came even sooner than he expected. Jack worked quickly and before they knew it the kitchen would be done. Will was delighted with how it was turning out, but anxious at the realization Jack would then be gone.

He hadn’t shown up at all the day before, much to Will’s disappointment. When the doorbell rang Will leaped up from his coffee and paper and hurried to answer it. Jack stood on the doorstep, a large bag in his hand.

“Here are the cabinet door handles, at last. I managed to find an oak leaf like we talked about, in burnished silver.” He held one up for Will’s inspection. “I think they’ll be a nice touch, matching the ceiling tiles as they do.”

They walked together to the kitchen and stood side by side, admiring the gleaming new appliances, the shiny white cabinets and black marble countertops. Jack held one of the knobs up to a cabinet and turned to Will for approval. Will nodded—they were perfect.

“This should wrap things up. I just want to put one more coat of paint on the walls above the sink and cabinets and I should be done.”

“You’re really something,” Will enthused. “I can’t believe how well the whole thing has come together. You’re a real Renaissance man of renovation.”

Jack grinned. “I like what I do. I believe in putting everything you’ve got into whatever you do. Otherwise, what’s the point?”