14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Allen

The warm late-summer sun drifted high in the sky, just past its zenith as Marcia leaned over and carefully lifted baby Jackson from Allen’s arms. The sleeping infant made some gurgling sound, which brought a small smile to Allen’s lips, but didn’t wake.

Marcia cradled the baby against her shoulder. “You’re a miracle worker with him, Allen,” she said quietly, and then she kissed the top of Jackson’s head. “The only one who can get him to sleep like that. Thank you. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Allen nodded, and Marcia headed off towards Joe’s house, where Jackson’s sister, Danica, was already sleeping. Around him, there was general chatter and laughter, burgers and beer, fruit salad and coleslaw and cookies. The barbeque was an end-of-summer tradition for the neighborhood. Joe had been hosting it every year for at least a decade, maybe more. And nearly everyone from their little corner of the neighborhood was here .

Tina and her husband, Darren, sat at a table positioned under an umbrella, eating while chatting with Shane and Lily and Jocelyn. Tina and Darren’s three children were off on the lawn, running through a sprinkler with Beans and Joe’s dog, a Labrador retriever mix named Poppy. Phyllis and Herbert, an older couple in their mid-seventies, sat on a small patio sofa, watching the kids and dogs play as they chatted with another older couple who had just moved in two houses down from Greg and Allen. Then Brent, who owned the hardware shop on the main strip in town, had just joined Joe and Greg at the barbeque, where they both stood, beers in hand, discussing something quite animatedly.

It was a wonderful group of people. And even though he wasn’t part of the conversation at that moment, tucked away on the quiet side of the patio where he’d been cuddling baby Jackson to sleep, Allen felt content knowing he was a part of the community.

He watched his husband take a sip of beer while nodding at something Joe had said, and then Greg eagerly jumped back in, speaking with certainty and sureness, his hand movements enthusiastic and an eagerness in his eyes. Allen was too far away to hear the words, but he could almost imagine what Greg might be talking about.

Some hike. Some photoshoot. Some amazing landscape, maybe. Something wild and untamed.

When Greg nodded again and then pointed off toward the mountains, his smile growing, Allen was even more sure. He smiled softly, glad to see Greg so happy. It made him happy. Or at least happier. A little lighter. A little more like himself.

Allen took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back against the cushions of the chair he sat in. Even though he felt much more stable than he had the day before, even after another relaxing night with Greg taking care of him, cooking for him, holding him as he slept, Allen still felt everything. Pain and sorrow, despair and desperation, shame, self-loathing, guilt. And he was exhausted, mentally and physically.

But being here helped. Seeing Marcia’s twins, with their chubby, smiling faces, was always uplifting, especially when he got to help baby Jackson settle into his nap. Watching Tina and Darren’s kids play with the dogs, seeing Greg so excited and happy, sharing food and listening to the chatter around him. All of these things let Allen forget just long enough for the tightness in his chest to ease slightly and for his mind to stop imagining scenarios in which he wasn’t around.

Marcia plopped down in the chair next to his and offered Allen a bottle of water. “Hopefully they’re both down for the afternoon,” she said as Allen took the water with a nod of thanks. “Dani’s been sleeping like a peach, no trouble at all going down for naps lately, but Jackson... he’s been fighting it every time. Thank you again, Allen, really. He just adores you.”

“They’re both precious. I’m glad to help,” Allen replied, giving Marcia another small smile.

She was watching him thoughtfully, her green eyes curious, and she looked like maybe she wanted to ask him something but wasn’t sure whether she should. Allen had seen that look enough times to know what it was about. He blinked and looked down at the water bottle in his hands.

“We’d talked about adoption,” he said quietly, and he glanced back up at Greg, who was still chatting with Joe and Brent. His smile faltered, and when he looked at Marcia again, her eyebrows had scrunched together slightly in confusion. “Greg actually really wanted children. I was the one who wasn’t so sure, which is probably not what you were thinking, eh?”

“I would have guessed the opposite,” Marcia admitted with an embarrassed smile as she tucked a loose strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “You’re so good with children. And you seem so at ease with them. A natural.”

Allen almost laughed, and he shook his head. “Maybe now. But babies scared me when I was your age.” He paused and took a sip of water, then sighed. “I... I wasn’t ready then, and I didn’t know if or when I would be. I think I wasn’t really ready until after we were finally able to get married. But by then, we were both well into our forties, and... and I think the time had passed for Greg.”

He didn’t talk about it much. It had been a hugely difficult decision for him and Greg to not pursue adoption. But it had been the right one, he thought. He’d never been confident that he’d make a good father anyway. After all, he hadn’t had anything close to the right role model. And he was content just as they were. Or rather, he didn’t feel like anything was missing in their lives.

Marcia had lowered her eyes, and she tapped the side of her water bottle with her finger, looking lost in thought.

“What about you? The twins. It’s hard, but worth it? And Elijah will be back in what, another three weeks?” Allen watched as Marcia’s lips turned up into a smile, and when she lifted her eyes again, there was a sparkle that hadn’t been there before.

“Sixteen days.”

“I bet you’re counting down the minutes. I bet he is too,” Allen murmured softly.

“He is. I can’t believe they’re five months old now and haven’t met their dad. It’s been a rough year.”

“Has it been a full year now? Oh, that’s right, that’s right... He left right at the end of September last year. But the expedition? It was successful?”

Allen sat forward a bit and listened as Marcia grinned and then launched into an entirely-too-detailed explanation of her husband Elijah’s research work. He could only understand part of it—like Elijah, Marcia was also a climate scientist, although she’d taken a year-long sabbatical when Elijah had left and the twins were born. But Allen did his best to follow along as Marcia explained how Elijah and the other scientists and graduate students in his research group had been working to collect and analyze samples that would give them information about the rapid changes occurring at the Earth’s polar regions. He managed what might have been a few intelligent questions, and he just loved watching as Marcia lit up even more, nodded, and answered, her passion for her and her husband’s research obvious in every word.

“So what that means is—” There was a quiet ding, and Marcia glanced down at the smartwatch on her wrist and frowned. “Ah, sorry, one of the babies must be awake. I’m sure it’s Jackson,” she said with an exasperated sigh. She hit a button on the watch, then wearily pushed herself to her feet. “Thanks for listening to me ramble on. I don’t get to do that often enough anymore.”

“Anytime,” Allen said with a smile, and then Marcia disappeared back inside, leaving Allen alone again. Alone to his thoughts. Maybe a dangerous place to be.

He heard Greg’s laugh from across the patio, and he looked up to see Greg patting Brent on the shoulder and shaking his head. This time, he could hear some of Greg’s words.

“No, no, no. You’ve got no idea! If the hardest hike you’ve ever been on is that easy jaunt up to Snow Lake, wait until I tell you about this proposal I got...”

Allen’s smile grew again as he shook his head. Only Greg would call Snow Lake an easy jaunt . Sure, Greg had hiked much, much more difficult trails, but for the average weekend warrior, that seven-plus-mile hike was definitely not easy on the knees.

He was just about to push himself up out of the chair and maybe go grab some more of Marcia’s fruit salad when Greg glanced over at him, catching his eye. His husband’s smile softened, and he quickly looked back at Brent and Joe, shook his head, and then motioned briefly toward Allen and said something to the two other men that Allen couldn’t hear. A moment later, Greg was on his way over, his expression still soft as their eyes met again.

“Snow Lake is just an easy jaunt , eh?” Allen said as Greg took the seat in the chair next to his.

Greg just laughed lightly. “Ah, well, you know me, darling.” He paused and seemed to study Allen carefully for a moment before clearing his throat. “Can I get you something else to eat or drink? Another bottle of water? Some more fruit salad?”

Allen instinctively closed his hand tighter around the bottle of water Marcia had given him, feeling its weight, and he shook his head. “No, no, I...”

“You were eyeing the fruit salad, darling. I saw you.” Greg’s voice carried a teasing tone, and Allen couldn’t help but smile just a little wider.

“Maybe I was,” he admitted, and when he glanced up at Greg again, his husband was nodding and pushing himself to stand.

“I’ll be right back,” Greg promised, but he didn’t leave until after he’d placed a gentle kiss on the top of Allen’s head.

The afternoon went on, and almost everyone stayed for a second round of food from the grill—hot dogs and barbequed chicken this time—as the afternoon turned to evening. Allen mostly watched, except when he was cuddling one of the babies, which he did several more times. When the sunlight finally began to dim, the neighbors started to head out, and soon, only Greg, Allen, and Joe remained. The three of them sat in the same cushioned chairs off to the side of the patio, watching Beans and Poppy as both dogs seemed to get a second wind, some extra burst of energy sending them zipping around the yard again.

“So, Greg, what was that about Jack Mountain earlier? You started to say something about a trip?” Joe asked, and then he took another sip of beer, shifting his gaze to Greg .

Allen tilted his head, trying to remember what trips Greg might have coming up, but he was drawing a blank. Greg seemed confused for a second as well, and then he shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Ah, well, no. There’s no trip or anything,” Greg corrected, leaning forward a bit to rest his elbows on his knees. He seemed to stare off toward Mount Si in the distance, but then he blinked and sat back up. “A long-time client of mine wanted to contract me to get photos from the summit of Jack Mountain for a birthday gift for his wife. But it’s not in the cards for me this year, I’m afraid. Too short notice, really.”

There was a hint of reluctance in Greg’s voice that was unmistakable, at least to Allen. He swallowed tightly but forced his smile not to falter, even when Greg’s eyes darted to his for the briefest of moments. And it was then that Allen remembered two nights ago, when he’d come home from work and found Greg researching Jack Mountain on his computer in the garage office.

He pursed his lips as he watched Greg’s jaw tighten. When their eyes met again, the concern in Greg’s expression was clearly etched across his face.

“Ah, damn. Too bad,” Joe said, leaning back casually in his chair. “A client-funded trip like that? Would have been incredible.”

It would have been. Allen gripped the bottle in his hand a little tighter, and it made a quiet crackling noise as the plastic bent inward slightly.

It would have been the trip of a lifetime.

With stark clarity, Allen suddenly remembered the look he’d seen on Greg’s face Friday night, his eyes drawn to the photo of the mountain on his computer screen. Greg’s expression had been filled with longing. Excitement. Awe. But had quickly made a sharp change to resignation.

“I can’t do it,” he’ d said.

Because of me.

Allen tried to fight the thought, to ignore the drop in his stomach—that uncomfortable swoop that also made taking a breath difficult. He forced his gaze out to the lawn, where Beans had just been tackled by Poppy. The smaller dog jumped back to his feet, barked playfully, and zipped off again.

“Hey, Joe, thanks again for hosting. We should probably get back,” Greg said abruptly, and Allen found himself nodding, pulling himself out of the daze. Sort of. He watched as Joe and Greg stood up and shook hands. They said a few more words. Joe came over and shook Allen’s hand too, telling him something. Take it easy , probably.

But Allen felt miles away.

“Come on, darling, let’s get home,” Greg said after Joe stepped away.

Allen just nodded and then took Greg’s hand and allowed his husband to help him to his feet. He stood slowly, as he’d been making sure to do since the incident at the library the morning prior, and Greg’s arm immediately slipped around his waist to provide him just a little more support.

“Don’t think anything of it, darling.” Greg brushed a kiss on Allen’s cheek. “We’ll talk when we get home. It’s nothing. I promise.”

It didn’t feel like nothing. But then again, Allen had been feeling everything at tenfold intensity lately. Every word and every thought. Everything amplified. Maxed out. So whatever he was feeling, he couldn’t really trust it anyway.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” he said, as much to try to reassure himself as Greg, and he let Greg support him as they started toward the side gate that connected their yard with Joe’s.

He was vaguely aware of Beans racing next to them, Joe calling out another goodbye, and Greg’s arm tightening around him when they were in the privacy of their own yard again. But he felt off. Not like the day before—not weak and out of breath. Just... off. So when Greg led him up the steps of the back porch, in through the back door, and straight out to the garage, Beans shadowing them the whole time, Allen just followed wordlessly.

“I should have explained more to you on Friday night. But I want you to hear the whole thing now, so you’re not worrying when you don’t need to,” Greg said as he directed Allen to sit at his desk.

“Greg, I said it’s fine. I don’t—” He closed his eyes as he cut himself off and his husband knelt down in front of him. Greg’s hands came to rest on his knees, squeezing gently.

There was a pause, a few extra seconds of silence, and then Greg began speaking again, his voice sure and calm. “The last week has been one of the most trying I think we’ve ever faced together, Allen. Between what those boys did last Sunday and then what happened yesterday, it’s been... more than difficult.” He felt Greg’s hands press into his knees just slightly, and he opened his eyes to see Greg standing up and reaching out toward his computer mouse. “Paul and I spoke on Friday, early afternoon,” Greg continued as he clicked to open up a file folder. “He wanted to contract me for a custom photoshoot of Jack Mountain and the surrounding wilderness as a gift for his wife, just like I told Joe.”

On the computer screen, several images popped up, along with a text document showing a list of bullet points. Greg had mapped a route with potential camping sites, estimated the time and distance and elevation changes, started noting all the equipment and supplies he’d need to carry with him.

Gently, Greg pushed a notepad in front of Allen on the desk. “This was the timeline. This was the problem,” Greg said, pointing to the paper. Allen frowned as he saw the sketch of a rough timeline, with the words “Must be off the mountain by late September” double underlined.

“I-I don’t... You don’t have anything else going on,” Allen argued. “I mean, there’s the art festival in Edmonds that you might have to miss. But I can get Joe to help me, and we can still man your booth. It’s short notice, but I can cover for you. I’ve done that before, and...”

Allen trailed off as Greg shook his head. “It’s too soon, Allen. I’d have to leave in only a couple weeks. And I’d be gone for at least a week, a week and a half. And most of the time with no cell phone reception. I—”

“You can’t miss this chance because of me,” Allen cut in, his heart starting to pound in his chest. “Just because I—because I’m struggling with anxiety and—and whatever else is going on. Greg, I’ve always struggled, you know that. And I... will probably always struggle. You can’t let that stop you from doing something like this. It’s an incredible opportunity, and this is your career. It’s your career and your passion, and—”

“Yes, that’s true,” Greg said gently as he turned back to Allen, knelt down, and set his hands on Allen’s thighs. The seriousness in Greg’s expression caused an uncomfortable tightness in Allen’s chest, but he managed to hold Greg’s gaze. Greg shook his head slightly. “And I won’t even try to deny that I want to go. It’s an amazing opportunity that I’ll probably never be given again. It’s my career and my passion. But Allen, it’s also your life . Which of those things do you honestly think is the most important to me?”