alone and got beaten up in Idaho for being a Jewish homosexual in a Geo
Spectrum.”
“Ha. Everybody knows Geos are popular in Idaho.” Zach laughed, but he felt
light-headed every time Austin mentioned he loved him.
Zach turned the key in the ignition. After a few weak revs, the engine burst to
life.
“There’s a present for you behind my seat,” he told Austin.
Austin was still frowning when he reached back and deftly raised a blue cooler
from the floor. Zach had stocked it with all his favorite Austin bait: summer
sausage, sour-cream-and-chives potato chips, salsa, tortilla chips, spinach dip,
Love Ahead: Expect Delays
5
pretzels, even crackers and a canister of spray cheese, not to mention a collection of
soda and beer.
“No way, baby!”
Zach smiled. Food made it easy to win Austin’s heart.
Austin, momentarily content with a bag of potato chips, didn’t complain
further, and Zach pulled out of the apartment complex and headed east to the
freeway.
He’d planned the trip with time to spare, in case they wanted to spend an
extra night somewhere along the way. It would take three days to get to Boulder,
leaving five days to spend with Zach’s family before they flew back to Seattle.
At first Zach hadn’t relished the prospect of driving cross-country in winter
either.
“
It isn’t safe for me to take the car
!” Bubbie had screamed over the phone.
Having lost her hearing, she’d resorted to shrieking everything.
“
If it isn’t safe, then why would you want me to drive it
?” Zach had argued. He
had imagined many ways of visiting his parents and his grandmother in Colorado,
but
in a white Geo Spectrum
was not part of even his darkest imaginings.
“
You’re young
!” Bubbie had reasoned.
“
How does that help the car
?” Zach had countered.
“
This is the kind of adventure you young boys love, anyway
,” Bubbie had told
him.
Zach had many rebuttals. He was not, technically, a young boy anymore. He’d
busted into the third decade the previous month.
And he had also never been one for road trips. The last time he’d taken one,
he’d ended up stranded in Bakersfield after the high school band bus drove off
without him. He’d had to hitch a ride carrying his tuba. A man had solicited him for
oral sex, and a woman who might have been a prostitute had stolen his fanny pack.
6
Astrid Amara
Zach no longer played tuba, and he’d sworn off fanny packs years ago. He’d
matured. Matured in the kind of way that made the idea of driving an old car from
Seattle to Boulder in December sound less like an adventure and more like a plain
old bad idea.
But then he’d thought about Austin and changed his mind.
After all, it seemed like the kind of undertaking the two of them needed at this
stage in their relationship. It was a good way to test things, see if the overpowering
affection Zach had for Austin was strong enough to hold up to the tensions of, say, a
road trip through snow.
For the last month, Austin had been pressing for them to move in together. It
had started as casual joking, but with every repetition, Zach had realized Austin
was completely serious. Austin had even started looking at condos in Zach’s part of
town that would be big enough for two.
But every time domesticity raised its head, Zach politely and firmly beat it
back down. It was too soon. They had only known each other for six months.
And Austin had a temper. He was brash and outspoken and didn’t care what
others thought about him. Nothing seemed to frighten him, which had the strange
aftereffect of frightening Zach. What trouble could a man like Austin get into?
So in many ways this road trip was a consolation prize for Austin. Zach knew
Austin’s feelings got hurt whenever Zach casually shot down the idea of domesticity.
So Zach hoped Austin would see that, even though he wasn’t ready to commit to
moving in, he was serious about their relationship, that this wasn’t just a casual
fling.
Besides, Zach was thrilled his parents were finally going to meet a guy worthy
of being taken home. He could prove to them he was capable of making good
decisions when it came to his personal life. He’d struck out too many times for them
to trust his judgment.
Love Ahead: Expect Delays
7
And that was another reason Zach worried about moving in with Austin. With
others, he’d grown so distrustful, jaded by all but the moment of lust that drove him
and left him careless and, later, regretful.
Zach knew it was partially his hang-ups that had made past relationships
difficult. Too many men had assumed his self-effacing sense of humor and slim
build meant he was a pushover. Maybe he was. Zach had never learned how to
defend himself physically. He preferred joking his way out of situations.
But many of the men who were attracted to his dark hair and long, thin body
seemed to take his passive nature for granted and push too far.
After a string of disappointments, the last thing Zach wanted to do was move
in with another tough guy.
But Austin
was
different. Even though he was a big man—six feet five, two
hundred and fifty pounds, all muscle and hair—Austin was unexpectedly
affectionate, a man who loved to touch and be touched, with a hungry need for
closeness, making his broad chest even more inviting. And despite his hulking
presence in bed, Austin was a polite and selfless lover who saw to Zach needs first,
even to extremes. It had become Zach’s obsession of late to see Austin get off first,
but Austin showed remarkable self-control and never pushed his requests until
Zach was sated.
And besides being surprisingly kind, Austin was an all-around different type of
guy than Zach usually dated.
He didn’t own a single suit, for one thing.
He’d gone to the technical college and was a skilled mechanic. He worked out
religiously, watched football obsessively, and spent the rest of his time taking
comalike naps that alarmed Zach with their death-resembling intensity.
In the beginning, their opposite lifestyles had worried Zach. He didn’t know
anything about cars other than how to drive them. He worked for the local
government as a city planner. Zach read a book a night and had a penchant for sad
Asian movies. His exercise routine was designed to be as brief and painless as
8
Astrid Amara
possible and existed solely to ward off threats of developing the Roth-family gut,
which perched on spindly Roth-family legs like a terrible, round goiter.
But despite their differences, Zach and Austin had lasted six months.
Apparently he made Austin laugh, and that was a good thing. Austin’s laugh was
one of those honest, happy sounds that was contagious. So Zach kept Austin
laughing.
And Austin made Zach feel safe. Safer than he had in a long time, since those
bad months with Ed. Once, at the movies, a drunk had accosted Zach. Austin had
turned and punched the assailant so fast that Zach hadn’t even realized what
happened until the other man clutched his jaw and writhed on the parking-lot
cement.
There was something to be said about having a tough guy on your side.
But most important, they trusted each other, and with that trust had
developed a relationship Zach truly felt excited about. They had the prospect of
being something amazing together as long as Zach didn’t ruin it by rushing into
domesticity, or as long as Austin didn’t screw it up by becoming a bully. It was a
relationship worthy of gentle coaxing, something built with care and consideration.
* * *
crested the foothills, and rose into the Snoqualmie Pass. Winter was mild that year
in the Pacific Northwest, and they didn’t need the chains Zach had purchased for
the trip. The car chugged forward at an even forty-five miles per hour as they
traversed steep-banked switchbacks and passed through tunnels of dirty early snow
stacked into formidable walls along the highway.
The view was stunning: endless cliffs of sharp evergreens and exposed rock.
Austin’s mood lifted as he munched on pretzels, hummed along with his songs, and
chatted about their mutual friends. Zach too would have enjoyed the vista, if it
weren’t for the fact that every other vehicle seemed to find his presence on the
Love Ahead: Expect Delays
9
mountain insulting, and they swerved around the car with the fear of one avoiding
a drunk driver. Even semitrucks passed them. Around blind curves.
But Austin, a typical speeder, appeared unconcerned by their unimpressive
acceleration. He offered Zach pretzels and entertained him with amusing stories
about his clients, and Zach let his worries and ego go and allowed the others to
cruise on by. The line in the road needed to be his focus, not the furious drivers or
flipped fingers and not the chasm of death to his left or the icy avalanche of
destruction to his right.
Given their late start and slow trek up and down the pass, it was well past
sundown by the time they wound out of the Cascades and hit the college town of
Ellensburg. Zach made his first executive decision as navigator and decided to call
it a night. He’d intended to reach Spokane before stopping, but in truth, he was
relieved to have the mountains behind him, and he needed a break.
The Ellensburg Stay-a-Nite was located just off Interstate 90. The flat, bleak
landscape was composed of a blazing ribbon of red and white vehicle lights, a
rotating advertisement for a massive RV-sales compound, and a nearby fast food
restaurant. The area smelled faintly of dead animals. Although there was no snow,
a bitterly cold wind sliced over them, and Zach and Austin rushed from the car to
their motel room in two hasty trips to spare themselves the biting stink.
The motel room itself was depressing, with faux-wood paneling and
frighteningly textured orange comforters over twin beds that reeked of twenty years
of cigarette smoke. Zach had considered asking for a king-size bed but decided not
to press his luck; the man at reception had looked at him disapprovingly until
Austin glared with such obvious loathing that the man shoved an enormous moose-
headed keychain toward Zach and moved to the back office without a further word.
Despite the terrible look and smell to the room, Zach delighted in the small
surprises such motels offered by way of amenities. This one provided several
rumpled, dog-eared hot-chocolate packets next to a darkly stained coffeemaker,
which did not have coffee. A box of sugar cubes and creamers were tastefully
10
Astrid Amara
provided, however. A television guide prominently displayed the twelve channels
offered, and a notice enticed guests to make use of the pool, open until September.
In the bathroom, Zach found a uniquely combined complimentary
shampoo/conditioner/shower-gel/face-wash/hand-lotion bottle. There was also a
shower cap and shoe-shining rag. Everything, including the shower, was on a timer.
A thin slip of paper guarded the toilet seat like a chastity belt, a weird symbol
of sterility only found in the cheapest of motels. Zach tore it aside.
“It’s like a ribbon-cutting ceremony for my piss,” Zach commented.
Austin mumbled some reply in the other room, but Zach couldn’t hear because
Austin had immediately turned on the television and cruised the channels.
Zach flushed the toilet, washed his hands and face, and joined Austin. Austin
had pushed the two beds together and removed the offensive comforters.
Although he was tired, Zach wanted to observe the first of his road-trip rituals.
He fumbled through his suitcase and pulled out a change of clothes (Austin
mumbled something neutral), a tube of lubricant (Austin made an approving-
sounding rumble), and the cardboard box that held his most recent purchase.
The portable menorah was made of plastic and included eight red LED lights,
plus a pale yellow shamash candle light in the center.
Austin watched as Zach folded out the two arms of the tiny menorah, attached
a nine-volt battery to the base, and held it out on his palm.
“So that’s your menorah?” Austin asked.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
“Isn’t it supposed to have candles?”
“Yeah, but this one is neat. You turn on the lights by connecting the circuits.”
“It still counts?”
“Well, technically, I’m supposed to light these before darkness, but that doesn’t