Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Will laughed and took the bag. “Hey, that’s okay. Come inside. I’ll just get cleaned up and we can have an afternoon sugar-fest. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.”
Jack followed Will into the house, feeling happy and relieved. Will didn’t seem put out to see him. In fact he seemed very happy. He wondered about Will’s comment about chickening out, but decided he would find out in due time, if he was supposed to know.
“You know, about last night—”
“What I said last night—”
The two of them spoke in unison, processed what the other said and then laughed. “You go first,” Will said.
“No, I want to hear what you have to say. Please.”
Will nodded. This had to be harder for Jack than for himself, he realized. He, at least, was very comfortable in the terrain of homosexual encounters, having been gay and aware of it since he began having sexual feelings.
Though he doubted Jack was ready to declare his sudden conversion to Will’s side of the tracks, his very presence today, unsolicited and without the excuse of work, said as much as the way he kept shyly glancing Will’s way when he thought Will wasn’t looking.
“I just wanted to say I really enjoyed spending time with you last night. I felt really bad though about the way it ended. I mean, I got the feeling you thought I wanted to get rid of you. In fact, that was the furthest thing from my mind.
“The truth is”—Will swallowed, thinking now or never, as he plunged on—“I wanted you to stay too much. I knew if you stayed, with the amount we’d had to drink, I might do something really stupid and scare you away.
“That was the last thing I wanted. You said a lot of things—things you might not have said otherwise, things you may not even really feel now in the sober light of day. If I’d taken advantage of you, because that’s what it would have been, you might have regretted it later. We both might have.”
Will took a breath. Jack was watching him, waiting with a calm expression, as if this were the sort of thing he talked about every day. Will was struck by the unusual blue gray color of his deep-set eyes. They were trained on him as Jack listened. Will got the sense, as he often did when Jack listened, that he was listening with every part of himself. He didn’t fidget or fool with something on the table or in his hand, glancing from Will’s face to something else of interest in the room, poised to interject his own thoughts or opinions at the first opportunity, as most people Will knew did.
Knowing Jack was listening, really listening, gave Will the courage to continue. “I guess I’m trying to say I think something could be happening between us, Jack. Something I’ve only dared fantasize about until now. Your coming here today gives me hope. Maybe that hope is misplaced, and if so please forgive me, because the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.
“I’ve come to value our friendship in the short time we’ve known each other. It means more to me than a one-night stand. Way more.”
He folded his hands on the table and tried to smile. “Okay. Your turn.” The ball was in Jack’s court. He waited to see if Jack would return it.
Jack nodded slowly, as if weighing his words before delivering them. He lifted his coffee mug and took a sip. He set down the mug and said, “I have to tell you, I’ve been thinking a good deal about what went on between us last night. You should know, since Emma died, I really haven’t opened up to anyone the way I’ve opened up to you. I don’t know why, exactly. I mean, I guess I was in mourning at first. We’d grown up together, me and Emma. She was what I knew.
“Then it just got so I was used to being alone. I’ve never been a very social guy. I mean, I like people, for the most part, but give me a good block of wood and a lathe and I’m happy as a clam, building something in my workshop. It was easier to hide, I guess. To let well-meaning friends drift away after I turned them away enough.
“Getting back to work was good for me. Not just financially,” he grinned and continued, “but because it forced me back into the world. It required me to be sociable, or at least to communicate on a daily basis with some part of the human race. But still I didn’t really connect with people. I mean, I’d talk to them, of course, but I certainly never made friends with anyone outside the confines of the workday.
“Then you came along, so interested in my work, so interested in”—he paused, flushing—“in me. I mean, at first I just took you at face value. I figured you really wanted to know about the history of tin ceilings in the area.” Will started to protest that he really was interested in that but Jack silenced him with a raised hand.