61. Davis

Davis got home late on Friday evening. He could have stayed the night at the hotel, but after checking his paystub and ensuring the overtime was correct, he drove back to his cabin, calling Alex on the way and waking him up so he could get Mary Anne.

“Happy to be home, Mary Anne?” he asked as the dog leapt out of the truck cab and sprinted toward the front door. The dog pawed at the door and whined as Davis unloaded the bag with what he would need for the evening. The rest of his gear could wait. Davis wanted a shower and to fall asleep for seven to ten business days.

He opened the door, and Mary Anne ran to her bed, spun around three times, and flopped onto the pillowed circle.

“Well, didn’t take you long to ease back into things,” he said wryly. His voice echoed through the cabin, which felt emptier than it should. Which was stupid, of course, because Davis had lived alone for the vast majority of his adult life, which, he considered, was over half of his life. He liked being by himself.

Three months with Jeremy Rinci had changed that.

But as he toweled off and slid into a pair of soft pajama pants, Davis reflected that the change had started even before the tall man had sauntered into his life. He had moved to Colorado. He had gotten the dog. He had taken tentative steps to living more authentically, like a toddler learning to walk, until Jeremy had held his hand as he gained confidence.

Slipping under a blanket in his bed that felt much too big and much too cold, Davis was sure that right now, the only thing he was confident of was that he was lonely. He knew that progress wasn’t linear, but he wished he could have channeled some of that hope he felt back at the fire.

The next morning, Davis brewed a cup of coffee and walked to his back porch as Mary Anne made her standard perusal of the meadow. He had been looking forward to seeing this view again, had realized how much it grounded him every morning, and whispered this is your home.

“Cooper’s hawk,” Davis whispered, wishing that he could tell Jeremy about the striking blond bird that floated on a thermal.

It would get better. He’d get used to the silence again.

It didn’t get much better. Davis had spent enough time moping around his cabin that Alex had come over, barging in with all the subtlety of an avalanche, and told Davis that he needed to go outside and remind himself that humanity existed.

“You haven’t even gone on a ride with Yesenia and me,” Alex said. Which was only half-true. He had planned on joining both of them for a ride yesterday but had gotten distracted by a half-finished idea that had taken root in his brain.

“I mean, it’s just…” Davis began.

“I’m taking your daughter”— Alex scratched behind the dog’s ear— “For a playdate with Caveman. Go somewhere. Go to the city. Go to a sporting goods store. I don’t know, go anywhere.”

“I don’t want to head down the mountain.”

“Shit, just get out of this cabin. It smells like sadness.”

So that is how Davis, who’d spent the vast majority of his non-traditional college experience processing his feelings at the bottom of pints of beer at bars, found himself processing his feelings at the bottom of a Diet Coke at a bar in a mountain town in Colorado.

He had driven past the bar dozens of times, laughed at cheesy sayings on the sign outside, but had never gone in. He opened the door to find a fire blazing and soft folk music playing off a speaker. He didn’t know what he had been expecting— something more harsh, something more like the bars he and his father knew in Anthracite Springs— but this place seemed more like a coffee shop that happened to serve alcohol.

Davis walked up to the bar and slid onto a stool, repeating a mantra to himself as he tapped his fingers on the bar.

“You’re new here,” the bartender, a tall White man with a pale gray ponytail, said with a smile.

“Simon, be nice,” came a familiar voice. Davis turned to the side to see a face he knew he had seen before. The man wearing a flannel was tallish, with brown hair pulled into a small bun. He turned his body toward Davis to show long legs clad in jeans with a pair of wool socks and, oddly, sandals. “I know him.”

“Last time you brought someone new in the bar, you fell in love with her,” Simon said, laughing. “Go easy on this one.”

“You’re Phoebe’s brother, right?” Davis was hit with a bit of recognition from the night he met Jeremy’s friends and the brunch after. Another time, too, at Phoebe’s surprise birthday party.

“The one and only Colin Whitford,” the man said, tipping his pint of beer toward Davis. “Phoebes told me that you live out here. I was surprised I hadn’t seen you before.” He laughed. “It’s not like we get a lot of new blood out here. Can I buy you a beer?”

“I, uh, don’t drink, so bars really aren’t my scene,” Davis replied.

“All good. Mind if I do?” Colin asked simply.

“Of course not.” He looked to the bartender and asked for a Diet Coke, Colin insisting he would pay. It had been shocking to Davis, the way this group of friends had not only never questioned his sobriety, but accommodated him in the most subtle, soft, and caring ways.

“What brings you here tonight?”

“I needed to get out of my house and clear my head,” Davis muttered.

“I get that. June— that’s my fiancée, I think you met her. Curly red hair, bump on her nose, hips for days?” Davis swore he saw Colin’s eyes turn into hearts. “Even more hips now that she’s pregnant.” Colin’s voice caught.

“Congrats?” Davis asked, still in that in-between phase of life where he wasn’t sure whether people wanted children. He couldn’t keep a boyfriend. He shouldn’t think about a tiny life.

“It was planned.” Colin grinned.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Davis asked, thinking about Tiff, who had her son in eleventh grade.

“A daughter,” Colin said, and Davis was sure he saw tears in the other man’s eyes. “There are days that I wake up and still can’t believe it.” He took a sip of his beer. “June lovingly told me to leave the house tonight because I was making her nervous.” He fiddled with a napkin, tearing off a corner. “I just wanted to check the bag one more time. I know she’s not due for another two months, but things could happen any time.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I came here because it’s where we met. Even if I can’t be with her right now, I’m still thinking about her. Hell, I’m always thinking about her.” Davis gave a small smile, even though his heart ached. This was how he had felt about Jeremy while he was working on the forest fire. Every single time he touched a McLeod, he wanted to turn and tell Jeremy that they should do an exhibit on Malcom McLeod, who had fought the largest wildfire in US history and was an icon to forest rangers everywhere. He wanted to ask Jeremy exactly how he would have described the ridiculous art in the Best Western they were staying at. He wanted to turn on another movie from the ’90s that Jeremy had never seen and watch him find a queer subtext.

He took a pause, hesitant to continue further. He’d only met this man once before and, Christ, he had a daughter on the way. Something beautiful and new and full of hope.

“So you need to clear your head?” Colin asked again, continuing the conversation. And as much as Davis wanted to sit here and sulk and watch the baseball game (and sulk that it would never be his team making it far in the playoffs), something about Colin made Davis open up. He searched his mind to remember what he did and came up with something to do with children, which made sense.

“I’m here because I can’t drink away my problems anymore, but this is the only place where it’s socially acceptable to sit by myself and mope,” Davis said honestly.

“What kind of problems?” Colin asked.

“Guy problems,” Davis replied.

“Right,” Colin said. “You and Jeremy are together, right?”

“Was. Were. I dunno. Words have always been hard for me,” Davis said. “Which is probably what got me into this situation in the first place.” Colin waited patiently, leaving space for Davis to talk. “I, uh, I had to leave for the fire, and, well. I didn’t handle it well. Wasn’t able to say what he meant to me. He deserves someone who would fight for him, who would think about him in those kinds of ways.”

“So he wanted you to stay, but he didn’t ask.”

“I couldn’t stay,” Davis explained. “I wasn’t at the place where I could have that kind of big conversation. So I didn’t. I just left for the fire.” Davis looked at his glass. “I assume that he’s already moved on, because he lives a more interesting life than the one I do.”

Colin made a thoughtful noise, then asked. “Did you ask him to wait for you?”

Colin let out a wry chuckle. “No, personal experience. June and I met and fell…quickly. She left, and I didn’t ask her to stay. Even though all I wanted to do was ask her to stay. It’s terrifying. What if she said no? I thought that I wanted the universe to decide for me, that if it was meant to be, it would fall into place.” Colin laughed dryly. “The universe doesn’t know shit.”

“You went to her?” Davis started formulating a plan.

“No, I got lucky.” Colin’s eyes were misty again. “She came back to me.”

The door opened, the pounding of rain giving Colin a chance to dry his eyes and Davis a chance to think. He was surprised to see Yesenia at the door. She looked around the bar until her eyes settled on him. She gave him a small head nod, and Davis responded in kind, indicating that she should join them.

“This seat taken?” she asked, touching the stool next to Davis.

“All yours. Colin, this is Yesenia. Yesenia, this is Colin. His sister works with, uh, Jeremy.”

“You mean your ex-boyfriend?” Yesenia said.

Davis whipped his head around. “How did you know?”

“Dude, you’re not subtle. Also, there are three people I see almost every single day. You’ve been off since you got back from the fire.” She flagged down the bartender and ordered a Diet Coke to replace Davis’s own and a lager for herself. “Alex told me that you went out, and I wanted to be here if,” she shrugged uncomfortably, “well, if you felt like you were going to drink tonight.”

“Thank you,” Davis said, touched by her thoughtfulness. “I just needed to get out of my house, and I ran into Colin, and he’s been helping.” Colin gave a salute.

“Did the fire fuck you guys up?” Yesenia asked.

“No, my camp is fine,” Colin responded.

“I’m fine, no issues with the logistics,” Davis added. Yesenia had been at an outpost on the other side of the burn. She should have known that.

Yesenia rolled her eyes and muttered men to her beer. “Not, like, structurally. And while I’m glad you’re fine, with your camp or whatever.” She looked to Colin, then back to Davis. “I meant you and Jeremy.”

“How did you know?” Davis asked for a second time.

“The same thing happened to my husband.”

“You’re married?” Davis asked.

“Congrats,” Colin said, looking at his phone.

Yesenia gave an affectionate chuckle. “Davis, you spent the first year keeping everyone at arm’s length. Of course you didn’t know. I don’t wear a ring at work most days, anyway.”

“Where’s he living?” Davis knew he missed a lot, but he didn’t realize he had missed an entire other person living on their site.

“He’s in the Pacific Northwest, on the Olympic Peninsula. He’s a biologist, too, and they had an opening for his specialty. We had a discussion one night and figured that if he didn’t take it, he’d regret that chance, right?” She smiled to herself. “I still choose him every day, and he chooses me. And, like, well, if it works for us and we’re happy, why does it bother anyone else?”

A vibration on the table, and Colin’s phone lit up. “Hey, darling,” he said, answering it. “Yeah, I’ll pick up some ice cream on the way back.” He laughed. “And yes, hot dogs for dinner are fine. All right, love you.” Hanging up, he looked at Yesenia and Davis. “Don’t ever tell her, but I am so sick of eating hot dogs for dinner during her cravings,” Colin laughed. After paying for his drink, he turned to Davis. “Do you want my number? June and I are always looking for more friends who actually live out here so we don’t always have to head down to the city.”

“Yeah, actually, that would be lovely.” Davis awkwardly maneuvered his phone out of his pocket and passed it over for Colin to type his number into it. “I’m available for babysitting when your daughter arrives, too.”

Colin smiled. “You think I’m gonna leave that girl’s side? Please.” With Colin gone, Davis turned back to Yesenia.

“I should tell you thank you. I didn’t feel like I wanted to drink, but it’s good to know you’re around if I need someone.”

“My stepmom was sober. People are weird about it, but I dunno, they don’t need to be.” She sipped her beer. “Want to talk about your boy problems?”

“No,” Davis said honestly. “I’m kind of talked out.”

Yesenia nodded. “Want to sit here in silence and pretend we give a shit about this baseball game?”

“That sounds perfect.”

She bumped her shoulder into his, and Davis was reminded that not everything had gone to shit. He still had his job. He still had friends here. Davis felt a tiny flicker of that hope.