Frank’s Place-3
1619 Words
Standing outside Al’s apartment door, Danny held the scotch in one hand, while the other drummed nervously on his thigh. He was about to ring the bell a second time when the door opened.
“Hi,” he said, trying to muster a confident tone. “Happy New Year.” He thrust the bottle into Al’s hand.
Al stood for a moment, blinking stupidly with his mouth open.
“Well, can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, sorry, I’m just surprised to see you.” Al turned and led Danny down the hall. Danny watched Al’s ass rise and fall against the fabric of his sweats, while his upper body was outlined in the tank he wore.
First things first, thought Danny, repressing his arousal.
Al led Danny through the living room and into the kitchen before Danny had any chance to survey the place.
“Have a seat,” Al nodded toward the two-man kitchen table. He proceeded to take out two glasses, set them on the sink, and fill them with ice. He opened the bottle and poured from the New Year’s scotch, set the glasses on the table and sat down.
“To a New Year,” toasted Danny.
“Yeah, to the New Year.” Al sipped his drink and let out a long sigh with a shudder in it.
“What’s wrong, Al? You can tell me. Please tell me.” Danny reached out and covered both Al’s hands, which were still around the glass of scotch with his own.
Al looked up. There were tears running down his cheeks. He pressed his lips together and took a deep breath, as if willing himself not to cry. Then he got up and left the room.
Danny followed. Al was standing in the living room near a bookcase. As Danny walked up behind him, Al turned and handed him a framed photograph.
There were two men in it. They were both dressed in flannel shirts and jeans. They had hard hats on their heads. Their arms were around each other and they were giving the photographer a salute with a Coors. One of the men, of course, was Al.
“That’s Rick,” said Al, pointing to the other man.
Danny waited while Al composed himself.
“He was my partner.”
“Was?” Danny asked, feeling the emotion of the moment.
“He died.”
“I’m so sorry, Al.” Danny moved toward Al but he moved back.
“Yeah, well, we were together for four years. We worked together. We lived together in a different place. I moved here after he…well, after he was gone. I couldn’t take the memories floating around there.”
“How long ago did he die?”
“Almost two years now.”
Danny was taken by the depth of emotion still remaining after two years. “You must have loved him very much.”
“I did, and that’s why this is so hard. I was responsible for his death. I killed him.”
Danny’s gaze shot up to Al’s. Man, how much pain this man must be in.
Al turned and approached the sliding glass door to the balcony looking out on the city. He was crying openly now.
Danny came forward, laying the picture on an end table as he did. He walked up behind Al, put his arms around his waist and laid his head on the broad shoulders.
“Can you talk about it? I bet it’d help if you did.”
Al took a deep breath and turned to Danny. “Yeah, I want to.” He bit his lower lip. Danny had seen the gesture before. “It’s time.”
Al sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Danny went to the kitchen and refreshed the drinks. When he came back, Al had stretched out, leaning his head on the back of the couch with his legs in front of him. Even the gravity of the conversation to come, didn’t keep Danny from appreciating the way Al filled out his tank top and sweats.
“Thanks,” Al said, taking the drink and downing half of it in one swallow.
Danny sat facing him with one leg tucked under and one arm on the back of the sofa.
“We were too much alike,” Al began, “I knew that was a problem from the beginning. We had worked together for about a year before we fell in love. And I knew from our work relationship there would be things that would cause friction.”
Al paused and took another drink of his scotch.
“I was used to being in charge at work. I was the boss. He liked being in charge at home; he wanted to be the boss. At first it wasn’t much of a problem. We laughed it off. But, as time went on, we had some pretty serious fights over ‘my giving him orders,’ as he called it.”
Al was silent for a minute. He seemed to be collecting his thoughts. “The night before he died, we had another row. I don’t even remember what started it. I probably said something about how he folded his socks or something stupid like that. Those things usually started over some trivial thing. Pretty soon we were shouting about how each of us wanted to run the other’s life. We went to bed angry.”
Al finished his drink and indicated he wanted a refill. Danny obliged.
When Danny returned Al continued. “Rick was up and out before I was the next morning. We were working construction at a new high rise. Wouldn’t you know, I was his foreman.”
Al paused again and leaned back, closing his eyes. Danny wanted to reach out and let him know it was okay, but he refrained from doing it, not sure how Al would react.
“I got to the site. We went over the work details for the day. The wind was really strong. I decided not to send anyone up on the girders that framed the building. Rick was the head of a rail walker crew. He must have still been smartin’ from the night before. He told me he’d been pushed around at home enough and wasn’t gonna be pushed around at work.”
Al covered his eyes. “Oh, God,” he sobbed. He took several shuddering breaths. “The stubborn asshole took his crew up anyway. I yelled and screamed but that only made it worse. He went up, was walking a rail, and…”
Again Al let out a sob that tore at Danny’s heart.
“And a gust of wind came. He fell.”
He turned to Danny. “It was my fault. I pushed him into it. Now, he’s gone.”
Danny took the grieving man into his arms and together they cried for Rick and the loss of love.
After a time Al pulled from the embrace. He took Danny’s hands in his and pressed his forehead against Danny’s. “Danny, I want to love you, but I can’t. I would be dishonoring Rick’s memory if I did. I caused his death; I don’t want to cause him more pain now.”
Danny wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what Al was feeling was irrational; it was motivated by his guilt. He wanted to say something to break the hold the guilt had on him.
“Al,” Danny began, “I’m not big on religion. So, I don’t know what we feel after we die. But, if Rick is aware of anything, it’s that he wants you to be happy. I don’t believe your giving up your life would make him anything but sad. If you guys loved each other the way you said you did, well, then I think he would want you to find love again.”
Danny took a deep breath and continued. “You gotta give up your guilt. You didn’t kill him. He made a decision. It was the wrong one.”
“But,” Al argued. “If I hadn’t ordered him to stay down…”
“You can go on and on with ‘if this’ and ‘if that.’ The truth is Rick made his own decision. Grieve for him. Honor the memory of the love you shared, but don’t stop living. I’m sure he wouldn’t want that.”
Danny and Al sat in silence for a while longer. Not knowing what else he could or should do, Danny merely said, “I’ll be goin’ now. I hope you find some peace.” He stood up, got his coat, and returned to Al. He knelt in front of him. “I love you.”
Al raised his head, smiled a weak smile, and embraced Danny. “Thank you. I lo… thank you.”
As Danny started to rise to go, Al reached out and touched the earring in Danny’s left ear.
“Looks good on you,” Al said.
“Thanks, it was a gift from a friend.”
* * * *
Danny sat at the table where he and Al had met. Frank’s was back to normal after the holidays. Well, almost. If it would’ve been fully back to normal Danny would have been cruising the bar or talking animatedly with friends. Instead when he did come in, he ordered his vodka and headed for the table in the corner to the right of the bar. Several times he had been invited to the back rooms, but he politely declined, saying, “Pass.”
Danny sat leaning on the table with his head in one hand, staring at the floor.
“Can I buy you a drink?” said a voice in front of him. A vodka and water with lime was set before him.
A pair of work boots had come into view. Danny’s gaze swept upward, past blue jeans, and a flannel work shirt to a bearded face with a single diamond stud earring matching the one he wore. He looked into clear eyes brimming with love.
“Looks to me like you already did,” Danny replied, sitting up and looking at Al.
“Guess I did,” said Al with a chuckle.
Tears stung Danny’s eyes as he recalled this same exchange from the first night they met.
Setting his own drink on the table, Al pulled Danny to his feet. They embraced, holding each other tightly. They each breathed in the presence of the other.
“Can we try this again?” Al’s voice was full of love and desire.
“Oh, you bet we can, Mr. Foreman,” said Danny, hardly believing this was happening.
Al held up the key to Room 12. Danny smiled and they headed for the door to the back rooms, hand in hand. As they passed the bar, Frank gave them the thumbs up.
“Wait a minute.” Danny went back to the table and picked up their drinks. “Don’t need to let these go to waste.”
They disappeared beyond the archway.
“‘Bout time. Yep, ‘bout time,” Frank called after them.
THE END
- Writer
