Landfall - 17. Frank is Really Dead and Gone

Walking up the steps to La Casa de Fuga is like coming home. Guess in a lot of ways it is. Spent more time here than anywhere else since all this started. Since Jackie died, it's been a succession of hotel rooms, but more here at this bed and breakfast than anywhere. Maybe when phase three of the plan hits, and I'm settled in, I'll be able to put down roots again. Right now, guess that isn't possible.

Dave gets us checked in, Jonathan and Greg unload our luggage, and we end up with the same room we had originally. Another familiarity.

“I'm going over to Jonathan and Greg's to drop them off. They're getting some time off, so it'll be just you and me here—think you can handle that, Barry?” Dave is grinning. Jonathan and Greg are almost giggling.

“Yeah, I'm sure he can Dave!” Greg gives a lewd wink, and Jonathan laughs out loud.

“Look, why don't you guys come over for dinner tomorrow night? We'll figure out something to eat, and it's nice enough we can relax afterwards on the deck with drinks.” Dave looks at me, I nod yes, and he confirms Greg's invitation to us.

“I'll be back in maybe half an hour, Barry. Anything you need while I'm out?”

“Maybe buy me an electric razor? You told me I can't look at my face yet, and the stubble of the last few days is driving me nuts. I'll shave by feel. Either that, or I'll shower and shave while you're out—can't stand the itching any more.” Dave frowns but nods “ok”.

“I'll stop by Wal-Mart, and pick one up. Just promise you won't look, ok? I wanna be here when you see your face—you're gonna love it. Just don't need to look now, there's still some bruising and swelling. Promise you won't look?”

“Ok, ok, I won't look, Dave.”

“Good. Now, relax, I'll be back as quickly as I can.”

The guys head out, I stretch out on the bed, relaxing—and thinking.

Just wish I could explain all the sleeping I've done. Know I've had a ton of drugs in the system from the shooting at the plaza last Monday, then more drugs because of the surgery on Wednesday, but feeling like I'm underwater. Everything in slow motion.

Doc mentioned that sometimes lethargy can be a sign of depression. Figure part of it is dealing with the hurricane of activity of the last week. Hafta talk with him about that. Don't think I'm depressed, but hell, I'm still learning a lot about me, thanks to Doc.

One of the things that strikes me as odd is how much I talked and how little Doc said when met. He asked a few occasionally but he's easy to talk to, and it all seemed to flow. Dave was right when he said that sometimes all we need is to talk out loud to someone—it kind of helps cut through all our internal mental chatter going on, and then we can work to resolve our own issues. Maybe that's what's going on.

Know I'm thinking about a lot of things. I'm ok with Dave and me, though, and that's surprising. Been enough of a pussy hound I'd never expect to find a man remotely interesting emotionally and especially sexually. Guess you're never too old to learn—and that includes about yourself.

Emotionally, amazed at the feelings he brings out in me. Can't get enough of the guy. He babies me, he supports me, nothing I can't say or even do with him. Totally trust him. And know he feels exactly the same about me. Not just words with either one of us. It goes far deeper; there's a real bond I can't explain—and it's not just the oddball circumstances of my life. Somehow, he makes me want to be a better man.

Sexually, Dave hits all the right notes. Maybe it's because he's a guy, and a guy maybe instinctively understands what another guy wants or needs. And because I care for him, and he cares for me, it's that much better. His kisses get me hard just thinking about 'em. The sex we'd had in the shower was totally amazing, and probably the best orgasm I've ever had. I wanna make him feel just as great.

Hell, wonder what it'd be like if he fucked me.

Whoa....where'd that come from? Never ever thought about that. And yet.......it kind of sounds right. And God knows, he'd be the only one I trust enough to do that—and he'd make sure it was good for me, too, not just a one-sided thing like I'd always done with the women I'd fucked.

Face it, you're in solid love with the guy.

Ok. Yeah, knew that. First time to really open up and admit how deep the love is. And yeah, need to tell him that and talk about where we are and where we go from here.

Yup, one box open, fixed, done.

Still more boxes to go.

Still need to figure out how to let go of my boys. Did what I had to do to make sure they're safe. They'll get to live their lives in peace now, but doesn't lessen the hurt of having to make that call. Still missing the hell out of 'em, and what I'd give to talk with 'em again—but that can't happen. Face it, they're better off without me after all of this.

Guess I'm just feeling sorry for myself, but really need to talk more about it with Doc. Maybe this is part of the grieving process Doc had mentioned. Not easy, but necessary.

Deep enough in thought, didn't hear Dave come in.

“Man, you look miles away. You ok?” Dave puts the Wal-Mart bag with the razor down, and stretches out beside me.

“Just thinking.”

“Anything I can help with?” Dave look concerned, eyes softening as he props up on an elbow beside me.

“Just thinking about you and me. And thinking how much Doc has helped me in my thinking about you.”

“Wait just a minute, Barry. You don't need to be telling me about what goes on between you and Doc. That's your time, and ….”

“Shush....it's all good. I don't feel like I hafta report back to you what was said with him, not at all. Just you need to understand where I am, I haven't done a good job of explaining.”

“Ok, Barry, so what's going on in that noggin of yours?” His easy smile lets me know he's ok with whatever comes out.

“Just realizing how strong my feelings are for you. The more I think about it, the more I know how comfortable I am with telling you I love you. And it's taken a while for me to wrap my head around that. Not all done yet—at least with all the thinking, but you just need to know where I am, ok? Whatever this is, never had anything like it, so don't let me fuck it up.”

Dave chuckles. “Yeah, I know....Doc has a way of getting inside your head like that. Don't know how he does it. He helped me think through things after Keith was killed. So take all the time you want thinking out everything—I'm not going anywhere.”

And with that, he grabs me in a giant bear hug, and leans in for a tender kiss.

“Look, Barry, anytime you want to talk about anything—and I mean anything—we can do that, ok? Don't know that I'm qualified to give advice, but I'm a damn good listener. And, by the way, I love you, too.” Another kiss, this one more intense. Damn near takes my breath away.

“Now, the rest of the afternoon is yours, Barry-boy....what would you like to do?”

“First, I'm gonna shave. Then let's just hangout by the pool, grab a couple of drinks and dinner later. Really still pooped by all that's happened but give me tonight, and I'll be all set for Saturday and dinner at Jonathan and Greg's.”

Spent the rest of the day, by the pool, and called out, had pizza delivered. Great to just relax, and enjoy. Headed up to the room before too late, stripped, crawled in bed spooning with my back to Dave's chest. Still had to wear the damn goggles. Fell asleep immediately; the combo of sun, drinks, and a full belly conspiring against me.

Dinner at Jonathan and Greg's place was great. They've got a nice townhouse on the beach, with a big deck, open living/dining area with a kitchen off to one side, two bedrooms and baths upstairs.

It was grill night, and the guys had prepared marinated chicken breasts, and a mix of grilled veggies, and salad. They'd heated the bread on the grill, too. Hell, even prepared a desert pizza with fresh fruit on the homemade crusts. Yeah, I stuffed myself. Delicious!

After dinner, we just chatted, making small talk. Learned a little more about them, but even more interesting, watched them interact with each other. They had a healthy give-and-take, each one sharing what they knew on a topic, both men acting as equals but sharing, unlike a lot of straight couples where the guy has to be in the lead all the time, and the wife is somehow viewed as less than him or “separate-but-kinda-equal”.

And yeah, I thought about Jackie. She played a great trophy wife role, even though I never viewed her that way. Always made me look good, always letting me take the lead in public, even though privately she was very much an equal.

Guess just thinking of Jackie made me get a little quiet. Dave must've picked up on it, reached over, grabbed my hand and held it through the rest of the conversation. Yeah, it felt great and better yet, snapped me back to the conversation.

After dinner, we walked on the beach, barefoot, both couples hand in hand. Dusk fell, and it was both hot and romantic to watch Jonathan and Greg kiss. They're never done that in front of me before; took it as a sign of their comfort level with me and Dave to be that open with their feelings toward each other.

Naturally, Dave and I traded kisses. After the first one, Jonathan and Greg both applauded and whooped it up. “Way to go guys!” And after that was out of the way, nothing else said for the other kisses we traded.

Back in our room, both stuffed to the gills, we curled up in bed together. Light off, we talked, reviewed the evening, traded some kisses, and Dave dozed off before I did. Deep heavy breathing, but no snoring. Hell, don't know that would have bothered me—I was asleep moments after he was.

Sunday and the first few days of the week were more of the same. Dave and me hanging out at the pool, ordering out for meals, just relaxing. Dave did loan me his iPad, and connected me up to a site called GayAuthors.org. Great site, lots of good reading with a wide variety of stories. Got into the chat rooms, enjoyed chatting with everyone—uniformly friendly bunch.

My favorite DIC--”Dave In Charge”--made his appearance Wednesday. We'd had breakfast by the pool, Dave walked over, looked at my chin, and my eyelids, and said it was time to get the stitches out. Took me to a doc the Bureau had used before, who confirmed that I'd healed up well enough to get 'em out. Dave stayed with me in the exam room.

“How's the bruising, Doctor James? Dave hasn't let me look, and I haven't used a razor to shave. Ready to get rid of this shadow I've got all the time—the electric razor just doesn't get that close.”

“You're in good shape. A little puffy, but not bad, no really bad bruising remaining, just a couple of delicate spots. You'll need to be careful about shaving that spot on your chin, and I want ya to stay out of the pool, or hot tub, or ocean until Friday, just to make sure it's all totally healed. Wear your goggles again tonight and tomorrow night, and you're done with those.”

With that, the chin stitches came out in just seconds...there were only five there. The eyelids took a little more work, but only because they were so small. Once they were done, the Doctor James looked at me, and said, “Ready to see your face?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed a large hand mirror from the side table, and passed it to me.

Here goes nothing.

Doctor James puts the mirror in my hand, I pull it up, and look.

Different. Definitely different. I feel my face, gently running fingertips across my jaw, my now-higher cheekbones. It's tender, sure, but not bad. I know it's me—I'm feeling my touch—but it's so.....different.

Dave's hovering over me. “What do ya think, Barry?”

I can see bits and pieces of my face, but the mirror is too small to see it all. “You got a bigger mirror somewhere, doc?”

He points to the half-bath off the exam room. “There's a mirror in there. Lighting's not the best, though.”

I'm up pushing the door open, Dave trailing behind. Yup, big mirror. No hesitation, I step in front—and freeze on the spot.

It's not Frank's younger brother. More like a cousin. Some family resemblance, but not what I'd expected. Combined with the scruffy 5 o'clock shadow, the days relaxing by a pool with a dark tan naturally developing, and the harsh cold fluorescent light, I look more than Italian. Almost Iranian. Or other Middle Eastern descent. Or something.

Dave steps up behind me, puts a hand on each of my shoulders, and whispers in my ear, “So what do ya think?”

I'm shaking. Can't speak. Far more than I'd expected.

“Keep in mind that there is still some swelling there, and that will dissipate over the next couple of weeks. It's deep, and going to take some time. This really isn't the totally final look you'll have, but it's close. You look good.” Doctor James is reassuring, I'm still in shock.

'Barry, you ok?” Dave looks me in the eyes in the mirror. I try to nod ok, but my head barely moves. “You want me to call Doc?” Still frozen.

“Let's get out of here, ok, Barry?” DIC is back in full force.

“Thanks for your help, doc. We'll call you if there are any problems.” Dave guides me out of the office to the Suburban. We head to the bed and breakfast in silence.

Dave parks, then turns to look at me. “Barry, you look great, I know it's a change, but it's not that big of a change, and you're still the man I love—please, just talk to me, ok? I'm worried about you...you haven't said a word. Let's get inside, we'll call Doc, he can help talk you through this. Say something, please.”

A tear rolls down my cheek, then another, then both cheeks.

“I'll be ok, I guess.....this confirms it all—Frank is really dead and gone.”