For the Last Time

Scott: 1993 The first week of the police academy included an introduction to the obstacle course. Scott found himself running behind another candidate. The man had dark hair and a taut muscular body. Scott was more interested in watching the candidate’s tight round ass than worrying about being first. It wasn’t like Scott was ever going to do anything about it, but it certainly was a nice view. Women had different shaped hips, which Scott admired mightily, but every now and then it was a guy’s butt that caught his attention. Halfway over a wooden wall, the guy lost his grip and tumbled backward and fell to the ground in an ungraceful sprawl. Scott paused long enough to offer the guy a hand up. The name stenciled on the t-shirt said “Stenner.” It was the embarrassed, frustrated blush that drew Scott’s attention. Stenner took the offered hand and scrambled back to his feet. “Thanks,” Stenner muttered and made a second more successful attempt. At dinner in the mess hall that night, Scott was already eating when Stenner sat down beside him. “Do you mind if I join you?” Stenner asked. “Nope, it’s fine.” “Thanks for this afternoon. You didn’t have to stop.” Scott studied Stenner’s face. “The rules didn’t say I couldn’t offer a colleague a hand. We just had to finish the course in under twenty-five minutes.” Stenner looked like he might be a couple of years younger than Scott’s twenty-four. “I’m Scott Hedrich.” He held out a hand. “Mark Stenner.” * * * * In the garden outside the bed and breakfast, Mark Stenner paced the length of a flower bed and back. He was getting married in less than thirty minutes. He’d done it twice before. Practice ought to make perfect, shouldn’t it? The difference was this time he was marrying a man. He made himself stop and take a deep breath. Be calm. You don’t need another heart attack. This time he would get it right. This time he would marry the person he had loved for more than twenty years. Hopefully he would get to spend the next twenty, thirty or forty years with Scott. Today they would declare their love for each other in public, in front of thirty other people. Over the last year they had finally stopped hiding their relationship. That had been a big change. A couple of decades of playing best friends when others were around and keeping the fact their relationship was deep and intense and also physical had been their secret for so long. It still made Mark flinch in anxiety now and then when Scott kissed him and somebody else was present. There had been too many damn weddings in their pasts, all to women that they thought they had loved at the time. This would be the last. Scott and he had sworn to each other that this time would be forever. A memory of Scott and Lynn’s wedding surged up in Mark’s thoughts. * * * * Mark: 1995 Being the best man meant he was supposed to come up with a toast…in about ten minutes. Time for a cigarette to calm his nerves and hope he didn’t f**k this up. Mark glanced back at Scott, who was standing near the entrance to the ballroom that had been rented for the reception. Tall, lean, narrow face with a beaky nose, Scott was everything Mark ever wanted in a best friend. They’d gotten really close during the academy, each surviving their rookie year in the precinct under different training officers. Mark had suffered a moment of jealousy when Scott and Lynn had started dating, but it was as it should be. Friends got married and relationships changed. Mark lit up his cigarette and took a long drag. He hoped Scott and Lynn had a long happy marriage. He also hoped the closer than brothers friendship between him and Scott remained. As he blew out a plume of smoke, he saw Scott coming toward him. “Gonna tell me and Lynn to go forth and be a fruit tree?” Scott teased. Mark grinned and chuckled. A mutual friend had made a toast at a wedding where he tried to be impressive and give the toast in Latin. The man had screwed up the wording and instead of telling the happy couple to be “fruitful”, he came out with “be a fruit tree.” The groom, a professional translator, just stood there with a raised eyebrow. “I think I’ll stick to English.” “Good. You know, I can’t believe I’m married. The whole past couple months have been all about the ceremony and the dress and the catering and crap that made me want to say ‘f**k it, let’s elope.’ Lynn would have blown a gasket though.” “Glad it’s almost done?” “Yes, hell yes. I guess I should go back in.” “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes,” Mark made a gesture with the remnants of his cigarette. Scott smiled, nodded, and went back into the building. A thread of unhappiness curled in Mark’s stomach. He suspected hanging out with Scott in off hours was never going to be the same. * * * * Scott: 1996 “She’s so damn tiny,” Mark said. Scott stood in the hospital room, cradling his newborn daughter in his arms. She was wrapped in a striped hospital blanket with a pink stretchy cap on her head. “Yeah, she is. The whole nine months, I thought I was prepared and now I feel like I haven’t got a clue.” “I think every new father says that.” Mark put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “I want you to be her godfather.” Scott looked at his friend with infinite trust. “Me? Some single guy without a clue?” “Mark…there is no one else on earth I would trust the same way if something happened to me and Lynn.” “Okay. Okay. Put my name in the blank and hope I’m never needed.” “You’re always needed. You’re my best friend. Who else is gonna give me a ride home from the morgue at three in the morning?” Scott teased. “I still can’t believe the brass made you guard the already dead body of some gang banger.” “The hypothesis was that the rival gang wanted to parade him around and prove how bad ass they were.” “What were the high muckety mucks expecting, that his killers were going to tie him to the hood of a car like a dead deer and drive around town?” “I suggested they behead him and put it on a pike outside the morgue, all twelfth century like.” The baby in Scott’s arms made a faint protest. “I wonder if she’s hungry. Maybe I better give her back to Lynn to feed.” “Do you think we’ll still be making bad jokes about corpses when she’s ready for college?” “Yeah, probably.” Scott gave Mark a grin. There was no other guy he wanted to be trading horrible jokes with eighteen years from now. * * * * Mark: 1998 Hot summer days were made for car washing and beer drinking and hanging out. Scott soaped his Toyota in the driveway in front of the house, cut off denim shorts hanging low on his hips. Mark was scrubbing the hubcaps with a big nylon brush, down on one knee, sun beating down on his bare back. Neither he nor Scott saw much point in wearing more than shorts. Sudsy water dribbled down off the fender and soaked Mark’s arm. “Thanks but I don’t need a bath, too,” Mark said, amused. Scott peered down at him, big wet sponge in his hand, and extended his arm, dropping the sponge on Mark’s shoulder. “Maybe you do.” The sponge bounced off and fell to the ground. The temptation was just too great. Mark picked up the sponge and threw it at Scott’s chest. A wicked grin curved Scott’s mouth and mischief burned in his eyes. Within five seconds, Scott was squirting him with the hose. Mark picked up the bucket of soapy water and doused him. It turned into a wrestling match on the grass with Scott on top of Mark, trying to jam the hose down the back of his shorts. “What are you two, twelve years old?” said Lynn as she came out of the house with Kari balanced on her hip. “Look at your daddy, he’s a wet mess.” Scott smiled up at Lynn. “If you weren’t holding her, you’d be wet, too.” Lynn just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Scott slowly stood and gave Mark a hand up. “I think you owe me a beer,” Mark said. “Car’s not done yet.” Scott grabbed up the hose and blasted Mark with the spray, which turned into another bout of horseplay with Mark sticking the hose up the leg of Scott’s shorts. They finally quit, both drenched and sat on the grass laughing. Mark looked longingly at his best friend. Wrestling, touching, wound around Scott, it made ideas burn in his head that shouldn’t be there. Unexpectedly, Scott met his gaze and Mark wondered if he saw something equal in Scott’s eyes. No, probably not. The guy was happily married and had a kid. It was a forbidden thought anyway. * * * * Scott: September 11, 2001 The world was in chaos. Scott’s first call had been to Lynn, making sure she was safe at her bank teller job. It wasn’t like the bank was really anywhere near the Pentagon, but Scott felt compelled to check on her. The second call was to Mark. “Stenner,” Mark answered his cell phone, voice sounding raw and tense. “Mark, are you okay? I know you’ve been patrolling in the Mall area.” “It’s a f*****g mad house around here, but I’m fine.” Mark coughed. “s**t, Scott, it looked like a f*****g nuclear bomb had hit minus the damn mushroom cloud. It was across the river but still…” “But you’re okay…” “Yeah, intact anyway.” “Janet?” Scott asked about Mark’s fiancé. “Is safe. They’re backing up all the computers where she works in case there’s some kind of software attack. I gotta go. I’ll call you later. I promise.” Mark said and hung up. Five hours later Mark showed up on the doorstep of Scott’s house. He looked absolutely frazzled, sweaty, eyes bloodshot. Scott’s wife was not home; she and Kari had gone to stay with a close friend whose husband was among the missing. “You look like absolute s**t,” Scott said as he beckoned Mark in. “Please tell me you have beer.” “Yup.” Mark followed Scott into the kitchen and Scott handed him a beer from the refrigerator. Cracking it open, Mark took a gulp then sat the bottle on the counter top. “God…I never want to have a day like this ever again.” Scott stepped close and wrapped an arm around Mark, hugging him. “Yeah, me either, and I think my day was less evil than yours.” Mark felt so warm and alive in his arms, and Scott was relieved his best friend was safe. He tipped Mark’s face up toward his and kissed him. It wasn’t really intentional, more of a reflex based on stress, but it felt so right. Mark was very still for a moment, neither moving nor responding, then he slid his hands around Scott and pushed him back against the wall, returning the kiss with aggression bordering on desperation. “I want you naked under me,” murmured Mark. “Sofa.” The two of them stumbled into the living room, stripping as they went. They fell onto the sofa, Mark on top, kissing Scott, questing hands running over Scott’s torso, down his sides, petting his d**k. Scott moaned. He’d wanted this for so long, knew it was wrong and right that moment didn’t care. He’d spent more than half the day fearing Mark was dead or in danger, and now he had Mark in his arms, naked. They touched and stroked and kissed, grinding against each other, until Scott blew his load against Mark’s belly. Mark came moments later. Sticky, spent, and sated, they lay tangled on the sofa. “We can’t ever do this again,” Mark whispered. “I just cheated on my wife with my best friend,” Scott said. It should have felt more wrong than it did. “I doubt Janet would be super thrilled by this either.” “We ought to clean up.” Neither moved. * * * * Scott: 2002 Standing to Mark’s left, Scott watched Janet walking up the aisle of the church, her wedding gown lightly brushing the carpet with each step. She was a pretty woman. Mark was marrying her today and Scott was the best man. It was a happy occasion and yet a piece of Scott’s heart ached when the pastor pronounced Mark and Janet husband and wife. At the reception, Scott’s six-year-old daughter, Kari, came bounding up to Mark where he stood talking to Scott. “Uncle Mark, Uncle Mark, are you going to have babies now?” Mark blinked, then grinned and dropped to one knee. “I don’t know. Do you think that’s a good idea?” “Mommy said that now you were settling down and being married, that you and Janet would have babies.” “I think Janet and I haven’t quite decided about that yet. I promise to let you know when we figure it out, okay?” “Will you still come to our house and push me on the swing?” Kari asked. “Yep.” “And help Daddy cook hotdogs on the grill?” “Yep.” “I like it when you come over. It makes Daddy laugh.” Mark looked up at Scott and their gaze met. Scott thought for a minute that there was a flicker of sad longing in Mark’s eyes. He knew he felt it himself. Scott said, “Uncle Mark is always welcome at our house because he’s my friend.”