Safety Net (47 page)

“No, not me. So, look, thanks for
the ride and everything,” Dale said before Randall could quiz him on Erick’s
love life. He opened the car door and waved goodbye. Randall, in his opinion,
needed to find a real boyfriend.

Dale called Andy the following
weekend and after catching up on life in Botswana and complaining about work,
Dale said, “Erick and Lowell are sleeping with other guys and I get to be in
the middle. I must’ve been an awful person in my previous life to deserve this.”

“Are they breaking up?” Andy asked,
concern in his voice.

“Oh, hell no.” Dale paced his
apartment, scrubbing his fingers over his hair. “Knowing them, fucking other
guys will only bring them closer together, the lunatics. And in the meantime
they get to break some more hearts.”

“Oh, is it like that?”

Dale stood by the window and looked
out over the parking lot beside his building. “I don’t know the guy Lowell met,
so I’m only guessing. But the kid Erick met... He’s carrying a torch. And it’s
all my fault. I never should’ve introduced them.”
Introduced
being the
kind way of putting it, Dale thought viciously.

“Maybe you should tell this guy
about Lowell,” Andy said.

Dale had considered it. It was
probably the only right thing to do in this situation. Andy continued, “It
wouldn’t hurt for this guy to have a friend right now. It’s hard to fall for
someone who’s not interested in you, who only wants sex.”

Dale flicked at the vertical blinds
during a long moment of silence. “Andy.”

“Dale. Don’t.”

“Don’t say don’t.” Dale hesitated. “I
love you.”

Andy sighed heavily. “Dale.”

“It’s true. I want to see you so
bad, I want to be with you. I think about you all the time. I’m sorry I didn’t
realize all this before you left, but now I know. I love you.” Dale flattened
his hand against the window, felt the cold air from outside blowing on the
glass.

Andy waited a moment before saying,
“We can talk about this when I get back. Not over the phone. Please.”

It was the way he said
please
.
Dale shut his eyes tightly and lightly punched his fist against the window. He’d
been so stupid, so clueless. He’d let the love of his life go halfway around
the world and had lost him. It hurt so much he crouched down and felt like he
was going to throw up.

“Okay. I see,” he said, and hung
up. He threw his phone across the room, but it didn’t break even though the
display cracked.

Dale spent the next week hating his
life, hating Lowell and Erick, hating the Peace Corps and Botswana and his
boring, low-paying job, and everything in general. On Friday after work, he
stayed in D.C. and went out to a gay bar Craig had taken him to once. In the
back of his mind, he wanted Craig to be there, wanted Craig to be willing to be
used for sex, and Dale knew how awful it was and didn’t care because everything
in the world was shit.

Craig wasn’t there. Dale hung out
at the bar and caught a few flirty looks and let even the old ugly guys buy him
drinks. At the end of the night he ended up in a stall in the men’s room
getting a blow job from a bleached blond whose red-rimmed eyes hinted he was on
something. It wasn’t even a great blow job; Lowell had been better.

He called Randall on Saturday as he
was recovering from his hangover and feeling remorseful. They met for brunch on
Sunday. Randall ordered a giant, gooey waffle and looked like such a little kid
digging into it that Dale procrastinated getting to the point until their
plates were cleared and they were sipping their third coffees.

“You asked if Erick and I were
together in college,” Dale said, rubbing his thumb along the coffee cup. “We
weren’t. But. Erick met his boyfriend there.” He looked at Randall. “His
serious boyfriend. Love of his life, that kind of thing.”

Randall frowned slightly. “But...”

“His boyfriend lives in a different
city. Because of their jobs. Erick got lonely.”

Randall’s frown faded, replaced by
the bleakness of all his hopes getting crushed. Dale said quietly, “I’m sorry.
I never should’ve put you two together. I wasn’t thinking.”

Randall toyed with a paper napkin. “I
wish he’d said something. Told me he was involved.”

“Yeah,” Dale sighed. “I wish he
had, too. Sorry.”

Randall cocked his head. “It’s not
your fault. I know you think I’m a little kid, but I’m a big boy. I wasn’t a
virgin. I just... He was so damn nice. Damn him. I should’ve known: too good to
be true.”

Randall’s attitude gave Dale some
small relief. After brunch they went to work out together and Randall drove him
home. They made plans to meet up for brunch the following Sunday and it became
their weekly routine: brunch, working out, sometimes a movie. Randall was getting
over Erick and Dale was distracted from thinking about Andy constantly.

A month passed. The Saturday Dale
would’ve normally called Andy, he went out for a long run before hitting the
gym, stopped for a drink at a bar and flirted with the bartender nonseriously.
On the way home, Lowell called.

“Menacker,” Dale answered, getting
off the bus at his stop. “If you’re calling to tell me about your sex life, I’ll
cut to the chase: yes, you’re a big slut, get over it already.”

“Fuck you, Lennart,” Lowell said
easily, unable to hide the happiness in his voice. “I’m calling ‘cause I just
got back from Hawaii with Erick. It was the best trip ever. We had two weeks
together and it was so beautiful and I wanna go back. I wanna make it our thing.”

“Okay, whoa, slow down.” Dale
trudged up the street toward his apartment building. “Is Erick with you?”

“No, he’s on his way back to New
Haven. We said goodbye at the airport. But I’m so high right now because it was
the best.”

Lowell proceeded to gush at him about
Kauai and surfing and beaches and waterfalls and helicopter trips and food.
Dale listened, entering his apartment, taking off his coat, taking a piss -- (
“Lennart,
dude, I can fucking hear you, you know”
) -- and slumping onto his sofa.
Listened, and was happy for them and sort of hated them and ached so much
inside it was a wonder it didn’t kill him.

When Lowell’s babbling trailed off,
Dale said abruptly, “Are you busy now that you’re back? Can I come visit?”

“Huh?” Lowell chuckled a little. “Well,
yeah, of course you can. Fuck, yeah, it’ll be awesome. You’ll get to meet Bean.
And listen, don’t dick around with hotels or anything. Stay with me. Um, unless
you don’t want to.”

Dale laughed. “Yeah, I’ll stay with
you. I expect four-star hospitality, though. Clean sheets. Breakfast in bed.
Well. Clean sheets, at least, please.”

“Okay, shithead.” Dale could hear
Lowell’s grin. “This’ll be great. I can’t wait.”

Between work and airfares, Dale
didn’t fly to Portland until another month had passed, but the weeks went
quickly. He heard from Erick in the interim and got a more laid-back account of
the trip but the common theme was how beautiful and perfect it had been. When
Dale told Randall that he was going out to Portland, Randall offered to drive
him to the airport; Dale didn’t mention he was going to visit Erick’s
boyfriend.

Lowell met him at the Portland
airport, looking taller and more beautiful than ever. His hair was long and
pulled back in a ponytail, his eyes were happy, he was big, muscled, and fit. He
scooped Dale into a bear hug and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Bro. It’s been
too damn long.”

Dale pushed back from him, shaking
his head. “Whose fault is that? You played Baltimore last season and didn’t
even say hi, asshole.”

Lowell took Dale’s duffel bag and
tossed it into the back of the extended cab of his pick-up truck. “I sent you
the tickets,” Lowell said. Dale had taken Lyle and Brent to the game. Lyle had
been impressed by Dale’s NFL connections and Brent had been bored and typed on
his phone the whole time.

Dale poked Lowell’s ribs. “Yeah,
yeah. Tickets are good, but it’s better to see you in person.”

They drove to Lowell’s apartment to
drop off Dale’s luggage and pick up Bean, who was a cute, goofy little dog. The
apartment was drab and depressing, which worried Dale a little, but Lowell
seemed happy and comfortable. He drove them down to a spectacular dog park, and
even though it was drizzling rain it was good to be outside, playing with Bean.

As Lowell drew his arm back to toss
Bean’s chew toy, Dale caught a flash of silver. Lowell threw the toy and Dale
grabbed his wrist. “What the hell?” he said, inspecting the bracelet Lowell
wore.

Lowell touched it with his
fingertip and smiled shyly. “Erick gave it to me. In Hawaii.”

Dale blinked at him. “Of course he
did,” he muttered under his breath. “You freaks.”

Lowell went to reclaim the chew toy
from Bean and throw it again. While Bean hunted it, Lowell glanced at Dale and
said, “I gave him a ring. It’s really cool. The stone’s Crocker red.”

Dale simply gaped at him until Bean
came back.

They went for dinner at a low-key
seafood place Lowell liked. Lowell asked Dale about Andy, and to change the
subject Dale talked about a movie he and Randall had gone to see and ended up
telling him about their weekly brunches.

“Who’s this Randall?” Lowell asked,
watching Dale.

The kid I introduced to Erick so
they could fuck
, Dale thought, resentment mingled with guilt. “He goes to
the University of Maryland, a senior. He’s a nice guy.”

Lowell ate the last of his shrimp
scampi. “Is he a football guy?”

“He played in high school a bit,
not any more. He’s completely in the closet.”

“Kind of like you were?” Lowell
asked, taking a drink of water.

Dale frowned at him. He’d never
thought of himself as closeted when he was at Crocker because he’d so longed to
be out. But he supposed he’d behaved the same as Randall. For all the good it
had done.

“I think with Randall it’s more
severe than that,” said Dale. “He hasn’t even told his parents.”

“Oh, that’s rough. Poor guy,” Lowell
said sympathetically.

Dale watched him. “What about you?
Have you told your mom yet?”

“Told her what?”

Dale arched an eyebrow. “Well, gee,
I don’t know. You and Erick are exchanging jewelry now, maybe your mom has a
right to know. Like, hey, Mom, it didn’t work out with your daughter-in-law,
but how do you feel about a son-in-law?”

Irritated anger flashed across
Lowell’s face for a brief moment before it cleared, and Lowell sat back and
toyed with his bracelet. “Oh,” he said uneasily. “When you put it that way...
She does have a right to know.”

Dale hadn’t intended it seriously;
he’d intended it to hurt, which it had. He felt like a total jerk. It wasn’t
Lowell’s fault that Andy had gone away.

“Bro. Ignore me. I’m a putz.”

Lowell smiled. “Yeah, you are. Do
you want dessert? The apple cobbler here is awesome.”

After dinner they went back to
Lowell’s place and while Lowell took Bean out for a walk, Dale got ready for
bed and stretched out on the sofa, checking his phone for messages. There was
one from Randall, saying he hoped the flight was okay.

When Lowell got back he stood by
the sofa and said, “Do you want to sleep there? Bed’s plenty big.”

Dale hadn’t even thought of sharing
a bed. Too many memories, too much baggage, he’d figured. But now that Lowell offered,
the idea was welcoming. He got up from the sofa. “Great. Thanks.”

It was nice to share the bed, it
was comfortable. Dale slept soundly until the smell of coffee and eggs woke him
up in the morning.

Lowell took him up to the mountains
the next day, showing him around. They played with Bean for a few hours and
Dale got some ghastly tales about the ex-wife, including the trip to New Haven.

“I couldn’t believe it when Erick
told me he invited you at the same time Candace and his folks were coming,” Dale
said, rubbing Bean all over. They were sitting on the sofa after dinner,
ignoring a hockey game on TV. “For such a smart guy, sometimes he’s really dumb.”

Lowell tried to tempt Bean over by
dangling an old sock but Bean was liking the brisk body rub. “He said it was
one of his bad ideas. I don’t know. It helped me, to be honest. I saw how much
I couldn’t stay with her anymore. How much of a marriage I didn’t have.”

“Marriage,” Dale said, shaking his
head. “You’re a divorced man, Menacker. I can’t believe it.”

Bean abandoned him for the old sock
and after a short tug-of-war Lowell let Bean carry it off victoriously. Lowell
stood up and stretched. “I’m getting to be an old man, Lennart. I’m hitting the
hay.”

Dale eyed him appreciatively. “Old
man, my butt. You’re just creaky because it’s offseason and because you’re
still recovering from plowing Erick so hard.”

Lowell stared at him and Dale said
smoothly, “I figured I’d beat you to the TMI. ’Bout time the tables were turned.”

“Asshole,” Lowell muttered, rolling
his eyes.

When they were in bed together Dale
said, “How do you stand it? Erick’s snoring.”

Lowell chuckled quietly. “I got
used to it. It’s worse when he sleeps on his back. I move him around or hold
him to make sure he’s not on his back.”

Dale smiled, imagining it.

Lowell said gently, “Why aren’t you
talking about Andy?”

Dale’s brittleness cracked. He told
Lowell how he’d discovered how much he loved Andy only when Andy left. How
their phone calls had become more strained as the months passed. How he could
feel Andy slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“I was an idiot,” Dale said flatly.
“He was the best thing in my life. How did I not see that?”

After a pause Lowell said, “Well,
for one thing, because you spent a lot of time keeping an eye on me and Erick.
Which was, like, awesome of you because lord knows, we needed it. But it must’ve
sucked for Andy. And kinda sucked for you, I guess.”