Reed's Tale - 1. Turtles All the Way Down

Chapter 1

Late on a beautiful day in May, Reed Bernal stood in a field dappled with wildflowers waiting for the man he loved to walk down the aisle. As a gentle breeze ruffled his raven hair that gleamed in the setting sun, Reed was aware that he looked his best, as good as he could. In fact, perhaps the best he ever had.

And he should; he had spent months (and thousands of dollars) preparing for this day, upping his weekly sessions with his trainer from two to four times a week, consulting with a nutritionist and hiring a food delivery service, embarking on a series of skin brightening treatments with his dermatologist, and booking a cut (and color, though that was a fact he planned to take to his grave) with the best and most expensive hair stylist in New Orleans.

And to showcase the results of his effort, Reed had carefully selected this bespoke suit of finest Irish linen, every stitch sewn by hand. The pale khaki hue of the suit complemented his rich olive complexion, and a shirt of cerulean and white plaid with a coordinating tie contrasted with his dark brown eyes, making them gleam. He looked amazing, and he knew it.

As the first notes of an instrumental version of To Make You Feel My Love began playing, Reed spotted Brandon at the end of the aisle formed by rows of wooden benches. And at that moment Reed realized that his months of preparation, his custom suit, his expensive haircut….none of it mattered. Because it wasn’t Reed that Brandon was smiling up at as he walked down the aisle, blue eyes glowing with happiness. It wasn’t Reed who was clasping Brandon’s hand while wearing a matching smile and glow. And Reed had only himself to blame.

Reed and Brandon had first met 10 year ago when Reed, struggling to figure out how to renovate and decorate his first home, had stumbled into the designer studio where Brandon worked. Their connection had been instant, their relationship amazing, at least until it wasn’t. And then, 3 years ago, Reed had cheated.

He had had his reasons, reasons that had seemed compelling at the time, and when John, handsome and vibrant had approached him, had wanted him, had made him feel special again, Reed had given into temptation. From almost the moment Reed confessed the affair to Brandon, though, Reed had regretted his actions; regretted torpedoing their lives. But it had been too late.

Brandon had fled their house in New Orleans, returning here to his childhood home in rural north Louisiana. And while here, Brandon had reunited with his high school crush, Chance. It was all so heartwarming, Reed felt like puking.

Okay, not really, but he felt….and then Reed experienced the strangest emotion. Sitting there on a bench in a field of wildflowers, Reed felt….nothing. No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t nothing he felt. It was acceptance. It was freedom from pain. The pain of losing Brandon, the pain of realizing there would be no reconciliation, the painful longing of the last few years. He didn’t feel them anymore. As Reed watched Brandon and Chance kiss, their joy a palpable thing, he realized his dreams of Brandon were over, and Reed himself could finally move on. Reed wasn’t happy, but he no longer ached.

Reed moved through the following reception, an authentic smile on his face. He felt almost like he was back in school the afternoon after defending his dissertation. He had spent hours preparing for it and dreading it; yet, when it arrived, it had actually been, not a pleasure maybe, but enjoyable in its way. The chance to display his knowledge and the efforts of his hard work; but more importantly, it had been a milestone marking a new beginning as well as an ending. It had been hard and unpleasant, but it had ended. Like this wedding that he had dreaded and had feared. The ceremony had been therapeutic; now with the dream of Brandon gone, Reed felt he could focus on rebuilding his life.

But, there is a limit to human endurance, and after hours of hearing how incredibly hot Chance was, how kind Chance was, how lucky Brandon was, how romantic their reunion was, Reed decided to cut his time at the reception short, and head back to town. Several of the guests from New Orleans were staying at Brandon and Chance’s farm where the ceremony and reception had been held, but that had been a step too far for Reed, who had booked a room at a hotel in Ruston, the closest town of any size to the farm and a 45 minute drive away.

Walking toward the field where his car was parked, he heard his name being called. He stopped and turned. He recognized the man as Frank, one of Brandon’s friends he had met, and briefly flirted with, earlier at the reception. Frank was much younger than Reed or Brandon, and Reed was curious as to how they knew each other since Reed had met most of Brandon’s New Orleans based friends in the years they had been together. Frank was not Reed's type, at all, but his obvious appreciation of Reed had been flattering, and Reed had enjoyed their flirtation.

“Hold on,” Frank said. “I need to catch my breath a bit. I had to run to catch up.” Frank was in his mid-twenties, a cute cub. Approximately six feet tall, he was on the stocky side, with close cropped brown hair and a beard.

After recovering his breath, Frank said, “Are you heading back to Ruston? If so, can I get a ride?”

“Sure, but what about Skylar?” he asked, surprised. Reed was certain that Frank had mentioned his blond date had driven them.

“Skylar found some cute country dude on Grindr, two farms over, and he begged me to find another ride back. Says this may be his only time to fool around in a hayloft with a real farmboy.”

“Oh I’m so sorry. Are you okay? That’s awful.”

Frank looked confused for a moment, then understanding broke through on his good natured face, and he chuckled, “No worries, dude. Skylar’s not my boyfriend. God, no. He’s a good buddy of mine who came along for the ride with me, but nothing romantic." In fact Frank's eyes actually widened in horror at the thought of dating Skylar. "But it was real sweet of you to be worried for me.”

“Don’t you want to stay for the fireworks?” Reed asked. He wasn't really in the mood for company, and now knowing Frank was single made him uncomfortable. He didn't want the younger man to get the idea that the flirting had meant anything.

“Naw, I’m cool.” Frank glanced around as if making sure they were alone, “it’s a real nice party, but it’s not really my scene, you know. It’s going to be kinda boring without Skylar. I figured I go back to town, find a bar, maybe a cute college boy. That’s more my speed.”

“Well, you’re more than welcome to ride with me,” Reed said, moving toward his Mercedes convertible, somehow a bit disappointed to discover that apparently Frank had NOT taken their flirting seriously. “But I doubt there are any college boys out. I think school’s already out until the summer session begins.”

“Bummer. But I’ll find some trouble to get into. Wow,” Frank said settling into his luxurious leather seat. “This is a sweet ride.”

“Thanks.”

Reed backed out of the lot, and turned onto the narrow road. This far from civilization, the night was dark except for the stars overhead.

“Do you want the roof down?” Reed asked.

“That would be sweet,” Frank said.

“Do you know any adjectives other than “sweet?”

“Sure. There’s ‘huge.’ There’s ‘hard.’ Oh,” Frank said excitedly, “and ‘engorged.’ I like that one.”

“Stop,” Reed said, laughing despite himself. Usually coarse humor irritated him; vulgarity of any sort irritated him. But there was something about Frank. When those words came out of such a sweet, cheerful face...somehow they seemed sort of innocent.

“Well,” Frank said. “You asked.”

“You are correct, and I will not make that mistake again.”

The rest of the drive passed pleasantly, the warm May wind whipping past them, music playing on the radio. Frank had taken over D.J. duties, and found a performer Reed had never heard of on the satellite radio, Sturgill Simpson. Frank described him as ‘hipster country.’ Reed had reluctantly agreed to listen to him, but was pleasantly surprised by how much he enjoyed the music.

“Wait a minute,” Reed said. “What did I just hear? Did he just sing about ‘reptile aliens?’”

“Yeah. Sweet, right? I mean who else sounds like 70s Waylon Jennings and sings about Buddha, aliens, and LSD?”

“I’m guessing just this guy.”

Once they made they made it back to Ruston, Frank begged Reed to come with him to the bar closest to the hotel. It was within walking distance; only a few blocks.

“I’m really tired,” Reed began.

“No you’re not,” Frank said. “You just want to sit alone in your hotel room and brood.”

It was true. As unexpectedly pleasant as the drive to town with Frank had been, now that Reed was at the hotel, his earlier sense of peace had faded, and his feeling of loss had begun to return. “How did you know that?”

Frank smiled, his sherry brown eyes full of compassion. “Because I’ve been there. Well, I mean I haven’t watched a hot ex marry sex on two legs, but I’ve been through similar. At any rate, I guarantee I can provide you with more entertainment value than an empty room at the Marriott.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.”

"Or," Frank said, eyes twinkling, "I can provide you some entertainment value IN a room at the Marriott."

"No," Reed said quickly, "I think I could use a drink after all."

"Suit yourself."

They set out together through the quaint downtown, full of small shops in brick faced buildings until they found the bar. It was a bit of a dive, as all good college bars are, but it was, as Reed predicted, almost empty. Still, settled in for while, Reed’s tension lessening in Frank’s comforting and cheerful presence.

Reed discovered the cub was a bit of a jack of all trades. Frank cut grass and tended lawns; he also tended bar a few shift a week among other part time gigs. But his real passion was cooking. He worked a couple of days a week in a small restaurant by the racetrack that specialized in poboys and soups. He also did some catering--limited things like fish fries and seafood boils. He described his food and cooking with the same enthusiasm he brought to almost everything.

"Did you go to culinary school?"

"Nope," Frank answered. "Learned on the job."

Reed was horrified to find that Frank not only hadn’t attended college or culinary school; the other man hadn’t even graduated high school. He tried to hide his surprise and horror, but couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why not? What happened.”

For the first time since Reed had known him, a darkness decided on Frank’s countenance. It sat oddly on his handsome, expressive face, with its strong brow and wide cheekbones. “Let’s just say, when I was a teenager, shit got real., and school wasn't a priority. What about you? What are you doing these days? Still in real estate?”

“No, actually. It….it just wasn’t any fun without Brandon. So I went back to teaching. Luckily my old department needed someone, and the department head remembered me fondly.”

They continued talking until they were kicked out at the bar's closing, two a.m.

“Good God,” Reed said, when he realized the time. “I haven’t been up that late in years.”

“Are you tired? Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

To his surprise, Reed found the answer was “No.” He fell in with the younger man’s suggestion they walk the nearby university’s campus. After a while, they discovered a park nearby Reed remembered Brandon talking about, a small jewel of a park reached by a flight of stairs that led down from the street to a clearing by a small creek. They settled onto a bench, occasionally sharing sips from a flask Frank produced. Eventually, the sky began lightening to a pale lavender.

“We haven’t really talked about Brandon. Do you want to?”

Reed sighed. “What is there to talk about? We had a good thing, I cheated; he left. He’s married now, it's over.”

“Why did you cheat?”

“The usual reasons. We grew apart, the spark went out…..yada yada yada.”

“But before that it was good, right?”

Despite his pain, Reed smiled. “It was very good.”

“You wanted to get back together, didn’t you? I remember him telling me that.”

“Yes. He asked for time and space, so I gave it to him. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank said, “but I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Either of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you. If you loved him, and I know you do, or at least did, I don’t understand why you didn’t just drive up here and drag him back home. Make him listen to you.”

“But…” Reed began.

Frank kept talking. “Or Brandon. I mean, if I had a hot piece of daddy ass at home... and some whore named……” he squinted in concentration as he looked at Reed and tried to remember “John...that’s it….John tried to come and take him away. Well, first I would send John to Fist City, and then I’d tie you down to a bed and love you so good, you wouldn’t have the strength to cheat again.”

“It was complicated..." Reed began. “Wait….what? What is Fist City?”

“Oh my god,” Frank said excitedly. “Fist City is just the best Loretta Lynn song of all. See, her husband liked to run around on her, so she wrote all these songs about that. Anyway, one of them is called Fist City. It’s got this great line where she tells the ho that she knows her man hasn’t been dating that skank because “when he takes out trash, he puts it in a garbage can.” Then Loretta tells the ho she better step back before Loretta takes her “to a place called Fist City.” In other words, professor, Miss Lynn is gonna beat a ho down.”

In spite of himself Reed laughed. “So your solution to relationship issues is physical assault and rape?”

Frank opened his mouth and then closed it. “Oh….I guess if you describe it like that it sounds bad. Anyway, I would have fought, maybe not physically..... But it’s over, and none of my business anyway. But what we do need to do is get you back on that horse. Seeing anybody?”

“No. I’ve gone on some dates in the past few months, but nothing I wanted to pursue.”

“You don't have to get serious right away. How about hooking up? I bet you could do some damage on Scruff or DaddyHunt.”

“Frank, I haven’t even kissed anybody in …..I can’t even remember. I’m not ready to go trolling on hookup apps and sleeping with random people.”

Queen began singing Fat Bottomed Girls loudly, and both jumped and looked around wildly.

“Oh shit, it’s Skylar,” Frank said, retrieving his phone. “What’s up?.....I’m hanging out in a park…….it’s what time?......shit, I’m sorry….it’s real close. I’ll head right back.” He hung up.

“What was that about?” Reed asked.

“It was Skylar wondering where the fuck the I am. It’s almost 5, and we’re supposed to head out at 6 so he can get a nap before his shift tonight. I gotta head back. Coming?”

“No,” Reed shook his head. The sky was continuing to lighten and watching the start of a new day seemed the right thing to do. “I think i’ll I stay here and watch the sun come up.”

They stood, and Frank pulled Reed into a hug. Reed resisted at first, but melted into the Frank’s strong form. After a moment, Frank relaxed his arms and moved back a step. His handsome face smiled up at Reed. “you’ll be all right, you know.”

Reed’s smile answered him. “I know. And thanks…..for tonight. You were right, I really didn’t need to be alone.”

“No worries.” And then, without warning, Frank’s hands gently grasped the sides of Reed’s face, pulling him into a kiss. His lips were warm and firm, tasting of whiskey. Reed, shocked, soon yielded to the sweet sensations, electricity pulsing through him. Reed had never kissed a man with a beard before; he had always preferred clean shaven men and thought it would be unpleasant to kiss someone with facial hair. He had been wrong. Very wrong.

Frank pulled back, grinning.

“What was that about?” Reed said, breathless and uncertain.

“Just helping a buddy out. Now your first kiss back is out of the way. It should make it easier to climb back on that horse. See you around, professor,” he said, turned and walked back toward the stairs.

Reed stared at Frank’s retreating back, his hand to his swollen lips.