The Priest's Tale - 5. Chapter 5

The California Zephyr’s massive engines grumbled impatiently as it idled at the station in the late afternoon.

Peter and Dan strolled along Second Street, up to the row of shops at the circle.

“I’m afraid I don’t have much experience with wine,” Peter confessed. “I’ve always just drunk whatever was offered.”

“Well, I’m no expert, but I’ll bet there are people here who can guide us. What do you say we each buy a couple of bottles to take back to the train? You’re allowed to bring your own wine to the dinner table.”

Happily, they found a friendly shopkeeper who not only recommended but also let them sample the wines he believed they might prefer.

As they paid for their purchases, the man said, “Enjoy the wine. I hope you two are happy together.”

Walking back to the train station, Peter wondered, “Why did he think we’re together?”

Dan chuckled, “Has it ever occurred to you that it shows? There are so many little things people do when they’re in love...”

“In love? Are we in love?” I hope we are!

“Oh, it’s probably much too soon to say. I suppose I could have said infatuated, but that sounds too cold and clinical, and going together sounds like we’re a couple of teenagers.”

He stopped, turned, and kissed Peter briefly on the lips.

Nonplussed, Peter looked around, confused and a little embarrassed.

“I told you I go after what I want,” Dan laughed. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

“But won’t people be... shocked?”

“Shocked to see two gay men who care about each other share a harmless little kiss on a public street?”

“Something like that.” He called me a gay man! I don't know whether to be glad or what.

“They probably would, in some places. But Colorado is a progressive state, at least in the major cities like Denver and Grand Junction. I highly doubt anyone is even surprised to see what we did,” he put a reassuring arm around Peter’s shoulder.

Dan added, “But I realize it may be a little too soon for PDAs.”

“PDAs?”

“Public displays of affection. We’ll confine our kisses to more private places for now.”

“Is holding hands a PDA?”

“Yes, a minor one.”

“Good!” Peter twined his fingers into Dan’s and they finished their walk back to the waiting Zephyr.

They joined the Duncans for dinner and shared two bottles of their wine, talking and laughing until they realized that they were the last ones still in the car, and the waitstaff were eyeing them impatiently.

As they stopped at the door to Peter’s roomette after the meal, Dan looked up and down the narrow corridor, then leaned in and kissed Peter.

Peter threw his arms around Dan’s neck and enthusiastically returned the kiss.

“Are you sure I can’t join you in your big bed tonight?”

Dan smiled affectionately, “As I said before, I think you need some time to process what’s happening between us. Tomorrow will be soon enough to give that bed of mine a good trashing.”

They shared one more passionate kiss, and Dan made his way toward his suite at the end of the train.

Peter reluctantly watched him pass through the door at the end of the corridor, and went into his own little room. He undressed and quickly fell asleep, dreaming of the handsome stranger he had fallen in love with.

The final day of the train trip dawned bright and sunny.

The gentle motions of the car had rocked Peter to sleep with visions of Dan. The taste of his lips and the passion of their kisses still burned in Peter’s memory in the morning.

Today is going to be THE day. We don’t have a lot of time left because the train arrives at the last stop this afternoon. I’m going to tell Dan I love him right after breakfast, and I’m going to let him do whatever he wants to me... and I hope he will want to stick around with me, somehow.

Peter showered, shaved, and put on a brand-new shirt he had bought to wear in California.

With a spring in his step, he navigated the corridor to the dining car, giving a friendly greeting to every member of the staff he encountered.

When he entered the car a little before 9:00 AM, the Duncans waved to him, and Peter hurried to “their” table. Dan hadn’t arrived yet.

He seated himself, smiled at the couple with affection, and began, “So, have you seen Dan? He’s usually an early bird.”

“You’re right. He was up at dawn...” Harry turned to his wife, struggling with how to say what came next.

“Dear... there’s something we have to tell you,” she said cautiously.

Peter’s stomach churned. “About Dan? Has something happened to him?”

She placed her hand on top of his. “The Zephyr stopped in Reno about three hours ago, and Dan said he had to get off.”

“He what? What do you mean? Why?”

“He was in a rush and didn’t give us any details,” Harry said, “but he left this for you.”

He slid a business-sized envelope across the table. “Peter” was printed neatly on the outside.

Hesitantly, he picked up the missive, terrified of what it might contain.

“Should I open this here, or...?”

“It’s up to you,” Marie stated, but it was clear she hoped he would.

He took a deep breath, turned the envelope over, and peeled up the flap.

Inside, he found a single sheet of the Zephyr’s stationery, which he unfolded with shaking hands.

He studied it for a moment, put the paper down, slid the page across the table to Marie, and turned to stare out the window.

She read aloud.

“Peter, I’m sorry I have to leave the train. Something major has come up with my company in New York, and I have to get back there immediately to deal with it. I’ll do my best to keep in touch. Until then, Dan.”

She lowered the letter to the tabletop and focused on Peter.

Tears were streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry, dear. This is quite a shock, and I can only imagine how you’re feeling.”

He couldn’t speak, but he nodded his head and wiped his eyes.

Summoning all his composure, he croaked, “I’m gonna go back to my cabin.”

Harry spoke. “You do that, son. Take some time, and we’re here if you need anything.”

Peter staggered back to his roomette, closed the door, and crossed to sit on the bench next to the window. He watched the thick, verdant forest rushing past, but couldn’t focus his eyes on anything.

What the hell? Did Dan walk out on me? His note doesn’t say much, at least not enough for me to understand or feel... What? Safe? Loved? Rejected?

His eyes filled with tears again.

Was it all a lie? Did he ever want me for anything more than sex, and only on this three-day train ride? Did he love me? Did he realize I love him? I should have told him I love him!

He buried his face in his hands.

What happened? Did he just realize he doesn’t want to be with me and was afraid to tell me? Was there really an emergency that required him to drop everything — including me — and dash off? When will I know? Should I try to reach him? I only know his name and that he owns an investment company. Maybe I could find him that way.

His body began to shake with sobs.

What am I going to do? What should I do? This has never happened to me before. What does a normal person do when this happens?

He knew there was only one answer to his questions. He straightened and wiped his eyes.

Dammit, I’m stronger than this! I walked away from a career, a ministry, a calling, and I can damn well get over a... boyfriend... who stood me up and disappeared without explanation after two days.

Peter composed himself, got up, and went over to his minuscule sink.

He ran cold water, splashed his face, and peered into the little mirror over the basin.

Dan told me what I would see this morning — my true self. Well, I say... fuck him! I do see my true self, and I’m stronger than this bullshit.

Looking himself in the eye, he said aloud, “Face it, Peter. For the first time in your life, you gave your heart, and would have gladly given your body, to a man you believed loved you. Now here you are, numb with pain and confused as hell, but your life isn’t over, so get on with it.”

He reminded himself, “Worse things happen to people all the time, and what do you always advise them to do? Pray for the strength to accept it, and trust that things will be better, one way or another.”

He continued silently, Down deep, I’m not sure I ever believed that, but now it’s the only hope I’ve got.

He wiped his face with a towel, took a deep breath, and went back to his window seat.

This time, he focused his attention on the natural beauty of the trees and high meadows. The Zephyr was crossing the Sierra Nevada mountains into California.

Their arrival in Emeryville, a suburb of Oakland, was scheduled for just after 5:00 PM. It was only nine in the morning.

I’d better go find the Duncans. If they’ll have me, sad sack that I am, I’ll hang out with them for the last few hours of the trip.

He packed his suitcase and left it in the little closet where the porter would collect it before transferring it to the baggage carousel after the train arrived.

He checked the dining and café cars but there was no sign of Harry and Marie. He knocked on the door of their room, but got no answer.

Remembering their delight at scenery-watching, he climbed the spiral steps to the top of the Observer car and saw them at the other end. They were captivated by the mountain landscape and hadn’t caught sight of him yet.

He made his way through the crowd toward the Duncans. Suddenly a man on his right stood and extended his hand.

“You’re Doctor Peter Ruxton, aren’t you?” the man asked before taking Peter’s hand and shaking it warmly. “I’m sorry to ambush you like this, but I’m Bill Baxter.”

Seeing Peter’s quizzical expression, the stranger clarified, “Dr. William R. Baxter, Vice Provost of UC Hayward. We spoke on the phone several times.”

“Of course. Doctor Baxter. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person at last.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “But what are you doing on this train? I didn’t expect to see anybody until I got to Oakland, and how did you know who I am?”

Baxter laughed. “Call me Bax — everyone does. I certainly didn’t think I’d run into you, either. I’m returning from visiting my mother in Salt Lake City. I boarded the Zephyr there around midnight for the ride home. I recognized you from the photo you sent for your faculty ID.”

They shook hands, and for a heartbeat or so, his new boss seemed reluctant to let go of Peter’s.

Finally releasing his grip on his soon-to-be colleague, Bax said, “I’d offer you a seat, but they’re at a premium in this car — the views today rival the Rockies, or so I’ve been told.”

“I don’t remember much about that part of the trip. I had a lot on my mind.”

“Well, I’m delighted we ran into each other. Would you care to join me for a snack and a beverage in the café car?

With a longing look toward Harry and Marie, Peter reluctantly agreed, and the two made their way toward the spiral stairs.

Marie happened to glance in their direction. She nudged Harry and pointed at the departing men with her chin.

“Looks like he’s recovered kind of quickly,” he observed.

“Don’t be silly,” his wife replied. “He’s on the rebound. He’ll be thinking about Dan every minute he’s with the new guy.”

“I hope you’re right, but...”

Marie demanded, “But what?”

“A wounded heart, or ego, or whatever-the-hell, heals itself by moving on, not pining away for lost love.”

“Do you think what the two of them had was love?” Marie wondered.

“Well, you saw them together. What would you call it?”

“Hmm.” Marie returned her attention to the view out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

Peter laughed at Doctor Baxter’s fourth off-color joke. He had heard every curse word that existed but rarely gave himself permission to use any but the "biblical" ones damn and hell — although that had begun to change since he had met Dan and felt more at ease with profanity. Baxter’s every other sentence was peppered with words Peter rarely spoke, even in his internal ruminations.

“And that’s how the shit hit the fucking fan!” Baxter guffawed a bit too loudly.

Peter chuckled and grinned. He had to admit the dirty story was funny. However, he couldn’t picture himself ever repeating it.

Although they had met only 20 minutes ago, the two new colleagues had relaxed into a comfortable camaraderie Peter hoped would last well into his tenure at UC Hayward. Having the vice provost as a friend could be helpful in establishing himself at the university.

He had been most fearful of finding himself 2,000 miles from home and friendless. His brief — fling? Interlude? Hook up? He didn’t know what to call it — with Dan had left him utterly confused.

I can’t decide if Dan made up the “emergency” to put some space between us and if he really will keep in touch. I don’t even know what I want him to do.

He gazed out the window at the spectacular landscape passing by.

I’m torn between a desire to have his love, and terror that I might actually have it.

Bax’s words intruded into Peter’s reverie, “So, where will you be staying?”

“I’ll have to take a hotel room for a week or so, while I go apartment hunting. I’m hoping it won’t take longer than that.”

“Oh, I’m afraid you may be in for an unpleasant surprise. The students have returned for the semester, and they will have snapped up most of the reasonably-priced apartments. You’ll have to find a good agent and ride their ass if you want anything decent at an affordable price.

Peter made a face. “I guess I was overly optimistic. Where I come from, everything is cheap and plentiful.”

Baxter appeared thoughtful. “Of course... well... I have a spare room. You’re welcome to it until you’re settled in somewhere.”

Peter smiled, grateful for his new friend’s generosity. “You don’t have to do that, but if you’re serious, I’ll take you up on your kind offer.”

Baxter nodded and smiled back. Something in his eyes gave Peter a sudden soupçon of regret.

Wait a minute! Is something else going on here? What’s this guy up to?

He cocked his head and looked at the other man.

No, I’m just over-sensitive after giving my heart and soul to Dan. Bax is just being kind and helpful.

Baxter reached out his hand and rested it lightly on Peter’s. “Don’t worry. You’ll have all the privacy you need and want. There’s a separate entrance to the part of the house where your bedroom and bath are.”

He patted Peter’s hand reassuringly. “You’re free to come and go as you please, entertain anyone you want, and you needn’t be concerned about disturbing me. Of course, I’ll leave you to yourself as much as you want.”

“Sounds perfect!”

Peter detected the slightest hint of devious delight in Baxter’s face, but he wrote it off as due to the fact that he didn’t know the man well yet.

Amtrak’s California Zephyr pulled into the Emeryville station one hour later than the scheduled time because of the unexpected stop in Grand Junction.

The passengers disembarked eagerly, many carrying their smaller cases, computer bags, and the like. They reassembled at the baggage carousel, and soon everyone was hurrying to the main entrance with suitcases trundling behind them.

After waving goodbye to Harry and Marie, Peter followed his new boss to the taxi stand, and in no time they were on their way down the Interstate towards Hayward.

A glance to his right, and Peter was awestruck. “Is that the Golden Gate Bridge?”

“No,” Baxter answered. “This one’s the Bay Bridge. If it weren’t so foggy, you could see the Golden Gate across the bay, about ten miles from here.”

During the ride, they made small talk. Peter would have been happy simply to look at everything they passed, but Bax seemed to hate holes in the conversation.

Once they exited the highway for the streets of the little neighborhood called Cherryland, the vice provost explained, “I live in a quiet off-campus community ten minutes from my office, close enough to make the commute minimal, but far enough to keep the pesky undergraduates at bay.”

Peter was confused. “I thought you were in administration. Do you also teach?”

“Oh, I don’t teach anymore, but my job keeps me in contact with students all day long, so I appreciate a haven where I can have some privacy at the end of the day.”

Peter nodded. This was beginning to sound like an ideal arrangement.

I wonder how long he’ll be willing to let me stay? I’d hate to start out in a place like this, and then have to settle for some dump I can afford.

The cab came to a stop in front of a lovely Victorian house surrounded by well-tended flower gardens.

“Here we are,” Baxter gestured at the house as they alighted from the vehicle. “Home, sweet home. Welcome!”

Without warning, the older man put an arm across Peter’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug that was too tight and lasted too long.

Uncomfortable with the abrupt intimacy, Peter wriggled out of Bax’s grasp and took a few steps forward, gazing up at the house.

“What a beautiful home. Have you lived here long?”

“This is the house I grew up in. It belonged to my grandparents, and they left it to me when they passed away.”

“What a wonderful thing to do.”

The two picked up their suitcases and walked along the driveway to the front door.

This could be a great place to find my bearings and settle into a new home, a new career, and new adventures. But I’ll have to keep Baxter at a distance until I know what he’s up to.

Peter’s digs turned out to be far more than merely adequate. There was a private entrance, and a door at the end of the hall led into the rest of the house.

His “room” would be better described as an in-law suite. The sunny bedroom had a four-poster bed, a sizable dresser, and two chairs.

Next to it, a sitting room was furnished with an old-fashioned secretary desk, two couches facing each other, a fireplace, and a wall covered with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Peter made a mental note to delve into some of the more interesting-looking volumes.

The bathroom contained a tub and shower, plus, to Peter’s surprise, a bidet. This was something he had never seen, but he supposed it might be a standard fixture in a Victorian mansion like this.

There was even a small galley with a microwave, sink, mini-fridge, and a fully-stocked wine rack.

If this is California wine, I’ll have to try some!

The thought made him choke up. He had given the bottle he bought with Dan to the Duncans as an anniversary gift as they left the train.

Peter unpacked and settled in.

For the first time since I before I lived in that rectory, I feel like I’m home — at least in somebody’s home.

After a cursory tour, Bax had left him on his own, then headed down the corridor and through the door at the end.

“Dinner’s at seven, if that’s all right with you.”

“Fine,” Peter called back, “but you don’t need to feed me, too. Allowing me to stay here is far more than I ever hoped.”

“No problemo. I’m damned glad to have the company. This is a big old house, and it can be very fucking lonely at times.”

At five minutes to seven, Peter approached the door leading into the rest of the house.

Hesitating a moment before turning the handle, he said to himself, Well, here we go through the looking-glass, Alice. What will we find on the other side of this mysterious door?

He tapped lightly and Baxter called out, “Come on in! We don’t stand on ceremony here. Feel free to come and go as you like.”

Opening the door, Peter entered another hallway, shorter than the one he came from. A staircase ascended to his left, and he found himself standing in the foyer of the mansion.

Bax’s voice came from a distance. “We’re in the kitchen. Turn to the right and head to the back of the house, and you’ll find us.”

We? Us? Who’s here besides Baxter and me?

His question was answered as soon as he entered the bright, cozy room. A man around ten years younger than Peter sat at the counter with a glass of red wine in front of him. He looked up with a friendly smile, came over, and hugged Peter.

This California hospitality is going to take some getting used to. I sure hope I’m not expected to hug everyone.

The young man stepped back and offered his hand. “I’m Julio Gardínez, Doctor Baxter’s RA. Pleased to meet you, Professor Ruxton.”

“Pleased to meet you, too... uh...”

“Julio, please. We don’t go for formalities here.

Bax came in from some sort of pantry, arms loaded with what promised to be the makings of a meal-sized salad.

Setting the ingredients on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, Baxter walked around and wrapped his arm across Julio’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

He leaned in and kissed his research assistant on the top of the head. “I made certain I got everything you asked for... just like you’re everything I asked for.”

Julio smiled and looked up into Bax’s eyes. “You say the sweetest things, you fucking dirty old man.”

“You love it, and you goddamn well know it.”

Peter tried to redirect the conversation. “I have to say, my ‘room’ is much more than I’m accustomed to.”

“Really? Where did you live?” Julio inquired.

Realizing he had given away something about where he came from, he quickly added, “Oh, I meant I always lived alone, so tiny apartments are the extent of my experience.”

Bax spoke. “It used to be my room when I was a student here and needed privacy to... well, you know — a guy’s gotta have fun once in a while, right kid?”

He and Julio snickered. Peter flushed a little.

I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let their dirty insinuations embarrass me or make me look like a prude!

The dinner was excellent. The salad was filled with vegetables, a few of which Peter had never seen before. Julio enjoyed telling him what each was called and where it came from.

There was also a long loaf of fresh bread. “I picked it up at the bakery on my way home,” the younger man explained.

Peter regarded him oddly, his head cocked to one side. “Home? Do you live here, too?”

Bax and Julio exchanged glances, and then Peter’s host spoke up. “As I said, this is a massive house, and there’s plenty of room for the kind of large family I grew up in. So, I always try to keep it populated with interesting people.”

“Well, I’m honored to be considered one of those.”

Baxter smiled oddly, which made his new guest uncomfortable. “Oh, I think you’re going to prove to be very interesting, Peter.”

Julio sensed Peter’s discomfort. “Don’t worry. We don’t bite.”

“Unless you want us to,” Bax smirked.

Maybe this will work out all right... and maybe not. In spite of their raunchy jokes and constant sexual innuendo, these two guys seem nice enough. I hope I’ll fit in.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was fun to write, and I find myself really involved with the characters, especially the new ones, and I hope you are too.
And (spoiler alert) remember that this is a romance, and romances always end "happily ever after." Or do they? Did I mention that I suck at writing romance?
As always, comments, DMs, recommends, and follows are gratefully accepted.