Page 71 of Out of the Storm

Because Gary and Jeff had returned to Niles early, Gary had some extra time off before he needed to resume his radio shows. While he could have restarted them early, Jeff had convinced Gary that he would benefit from the time to himself. And the extra time together, with Jeff.

The first two evenings back in Niles, the two of them spent time only with each other. And it was incredible. Every time they were close, whether their intimacy was sexual or not (and it hadn’t been since the trip), Jeff’s touch helped Gary feel secure. His touches, they were like... like proof of love. Or, maybe not love—not yet—but proof of like. And Gary needed them. He needed them like oxygen.

Still, Gary had the sense that Jeff continued to feel uneasy with their closeness sometimes. Whenever he tried to bring it up, however, Jeff would end the conversation as soon as humanly possible, insisting that he was okay and that he was happy to keep moving forward. Despite these reassurances, Gary couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that the two of them were navigating one of those rickety old bridges built over a canyon, like maybe one wrong move would send their relationship to its untimely end. It was a hard worry to ignore.

And there was something else Gary could no longer ignore anymore, either.

One morning, Gary and Jeff came back from the local bakery to see the little red light on Gary’s answering machine blinking. Menacingly. His stomach sank.

Even without listening to the message, Gary knew what it must be about. Because there had been one topic he’d been keeping from creeping into his mind ever since leaving for the trip with Jeff: his father’s will. Gary continued to watch the light blink ominously for a few moments. Finally, with a sigh, he walked over and forced himself to press the Play button, his entire body tensing the moment his fingertip touched the key.

“Hey Gare. It’s Dawn. Can you stop hiding from me? I want to figure out when we can start cleaning out Dad’s place. Apparently, he lived over in Youngstown. Sometime soon, you need to meet with the lawyer too. Anyway, call me back or come over. Bye.”

Gary’s eyes became unfocused, his world starting to turn, and even though he was beginning to feel lightheaded, he stayed rooted to the spot.

He startled as Jeff’s hand touched his back.

“Was that your sister?” Jeff asked.

But Gary couldn’t respond. His stomach was in his throat, blocking his windpipes. All he could manage was a nod. Jeff started rubbing his back.

Even though Gary still had no idea whether his mom had known his father’s whereabouts all these years, he had the unshakable sense that she had. Weeks prior, Dawn’s phrasing had suggested as much. To think that his father was only ever in Youngstown! For twenty years, he’d been living less than a half hour away. Why hadn’t his mother ever told him? Had she really thought his father wasthathorrible? No matter how horrible he might have been, Gary would have wanted the chance to know him. He’d have wanted to make the choice for himself.

“Gare?”

“Sorry,” Gary said with a shake of his head. “Did I ever tell you that my mom might have been lying to me for most of my life?”

“No,” Jeff said, rubbing his back some more. “About what?”

“About knowing where my dad was.”

There was a pause, and the silence pressed heavy on Gary’s heart.

“Wow.”

“I haven’t...” Gary trailed off and sighed. “Look, I know this makes me sound like a coward, but I haven’t confronted her yet.” He looked back at Jeff. “Would you mind coming over there with me? I should probably try to broach the topic, and hey, maybe they missed me while we were chasing tornadoes together.”

“Yeah, sure, Gare.”

“Alright. Do you want to drive? Or, uh, I mean, you’ve been driving a lot this last week. We could bike over? I have a spare bike in the garage. One of those BMX bikes. I tried one out for a while, if you can believe it.”

“That is . . .”

“Don’t say sad.”

“Adorable.”

Gary’s cheeks flushed. “So, wanna try it or...”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Okay, well, I have a spare helmet too,” Gary said, and Jeff’s subsequent eye roll—entirely overexaggerated—had Gary smiling. “Oh, come on, Jeffrey. It’s safer that way.”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who wears one.”

“I’m probably the only person over eighteen who refuses to buy a car, too.”

“Yeah, you’re pretty special,” Jeff said with playful sarcasm. “Fine. I’ll wear the helmet. For you.”

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