We drove the short distance to my house in silence. I was too busy trying not to slide off the road to make conversation, for one thing. For another, I was trying to figure out why, when he asked where I was taking him, I’d responded, “Home.” I hadn’t referred to it as home for a long time. There definitely was something going on within me. What it was or where it would go I wasn’t sure, but some sort of healing process seemed to have begun.
My passenger sat with his head bowed, his hands on the seat on either side of him. Pulling onto my street, I hoped I could make it all the way up the small hill to the house. I shifted the car into low gear and we made slow but steady progress. As I reached the top of the hill, I hit the brakes too hard and we skidded past the driveway. I had to back up to give it another try.
As I stopped the car at the end of the drive, I said, “Here we are, mi casa es su casa.” My house is your house. s**t, now why did I say that?
We got out of the car and promptly started to slide down the drive. We had to hold each other up as we walked along the path to the door. It felt good, my right arm around his waist, my left holding onto his bicep.
When we reached the stoop, I said, “I hope you like dogs, ‘cause there are two that’ll be overjoyed to see us and will express it by trying to lick us to death. So much for trained watchdogs!”
The last sentence was followed by an attempt on my part to laugh, but it fell flat; he didn’t even act as if he’d heard me.
I opened the door and, as predicted, we were accosted by Jake and Annie. Jake was a good-sized yellow lab. Annie, though a fair-sized pup, was a diminutive example of a German shepherd. They immediately lost interest in me and enthusiastically greeted the newcomer. When he squatted down, the two writhing, ecstatically happy animals bowled him over on his back and covered him with kisses.
“Whoa there, guys! Jake, Annie!” I called, feeling some panic for his safety. But he was issuing the first positive noises I’d heard that night—he was laughing. He righted himself, buried his face in their warm, welcoming fur and hugged them close.
“Well, thanks a lot, you two,” I said, feigning hurt. “That’s the thanks I get for feeding your sorry faces.”
They completely ignored me and kept letting our guest know he was more than welcome here. I had to smile, feeling a warm glow at the sight before me.
“I get along well with dogs,” he said simply.
“I see that.” I watched a moment longer before I said, “I hate to break this up, but they’ve been inside since I left for school at seven this morning and they’re probably about to burst.” Addressing the dogs, I said, “Let’s go out.”
They bounded through the dining room to the sliding door that led out to the deck. I stood and waited while they did their thing out there. They were back in an instant, as anxious as anyone to get out of the freezing rain and wind.
I turned to find my guest still standing in the entry hall.
“Come on in,” I said with open arms.
He walked slowly into the lighted kitchen.
Shit, I thought, he’s a mess and now he’s really shivering. “Take off that wet coat,” I commanded.
He followed my orders. The hood and coat came away and I got my first real look at my fantasy of two months. He was dressed in a tee-shirt and faded jeans with holes in both knees. He wore sneakers but no socks.
Hell, no wonder he’s cold, I thought. All these articles of clothing were dirty and wet. Once more my heart went out to the poor guy. How did this happen to someone? His hair was matted and came down to his shirt collar. It was hard to tell for sure what color it was, but I guessed dirty blonde or reddish. He had a scraggly beard that might have been a Van Dyke once. His hands and face were dirty, the latter streaked with tear tracks and marks of doggy kisses. The thing that struck me the most were his startlingly piercing, beautiful blue eyes. Staring into them, I felt my d**k react and my heartbeat increase. A wave of emotion passed over me that stirred something long dormant inside. It felt like love or at least affection. What was going on here? First off, I don’t believe in love at first sight. Lust at first sight for sure, but love? No way. Second, men don’t love men. Yeah, I know, there’s all this talk of same s*x marriage and happily-ever-after, but I couldn’t buy into it. Love was between a man and a woman. Men could have s*x with other men, even like them—but love them?
He broke our eye contact and looked down, no doubt ashamed of his condition.
“We have to get you warmed up.” I headed him to the first floor bath, steering him by his shoulders. It was heaven to touch him. I’d had a chance now to look at both sides of my new charge and could tell that in the not too distant past, this was a body that had been well taken care of. I dropped off his coat in the laundry room, deciding that the garbage dumpster would be its next stop. Then I took him into the small bathroom with its enclosed shower stall.
“You go ahead and get in the shower. Just leave your clothes on the floor. I’ll get you something dry and warm to wear.”
Again he regarded me with that I’m sorry to put you out look.
On my way upstairs, I noticed Jake and Annie sitting next to their bowls, looking expectant and wagging their tails furiously.
“Okay, you beggars,” I quipped, and immediately was glad our new friend wasn’t there to be further embarrassed by my lack of tact.
When I filled their bowls, they dove in as if they hadn’t eaten all day. Well, that was true. I smiled at my own befuddled thinking. Those blue eyes were definitely having an effect on me.
I continued my trip up to the walk-in closet, where I took out my best Michigan sweats, U of M tee, some white briefs and two pairs of thick, white socks. Back downstairs, I could hear the shower running. With a light knock on the bathroom door, I entered. I was pleased to be greeted by the warm, moist air and was glad my guest wasn’t too shy to use the facility to its best potential.
“You doin’ okay?”
“Fine, thanks,” came the reply over the hiss of the steamy showerhead.
“I’m going to put some clothes here on the toilet seat. I’ll get some clean towels and some other stuff you might need.”
“Okay.”
I put out a fresh razor, shaving cream, new toothbrush and paste, hairbrush, comb and deodorant. Damn, I hope he’s not offended by this s**t, I thought. I didn’t want to embarrass him anymore than he already was.
“Well, the stuff is there if you want. No big deal,” I added in an attempt to ward off any more bad feelings. f**k, you’re probably making it worse, just shut up! I remonstrated with myself. “I’ll go out and see what I can find for us to eat. You’re hungry, right?” Damn, I was falling all over myself. Of course he was hungry. I couldn’t even take my own advice and keep my big mouth shut.
I didn’t wait for his response, if he even gave one. I just got out of there before I said something else to pour more salt in the open wounds, picking up his ragged clothes on the way. I deposited these and the worn jacket in the dumpster outside, figuring I had plenty he could choose from to replace them.
I busied myself in the kitchen, trying to find something to feed us. It was Thursday; I usually shopped on Saturday morning, another pattern from the Patti days. The kitchen and I were not on the best of terms. Mostly my cooking consisted of heating things up in the microwave and pre-cooked meals. At least I had enough stuff to make a nice salad. Deciding I would let him make his own choice, I also set out several cans of Chunky soups. Hey, hot soup on a cold night ain’t all that bad a choice, I rationalized, then mused, If my students could hear me use that word, they’d never let me forget it.
Once the dogs finished eating, I let them out again and then, as they weren’t allowed in the kitchen during meals, banished them to the living room. Some of Patti’s rules still gave me comfort.
I was just about done with the preparations when I heard something behind me in the hallway. I don’t know how long he had been standing there but there he was, hands still hanging by his sides, yet looking less stooped, his head held higher.
“Hey, you’re lookin’ pretty sharp there. Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you,” was his quiet reply.
I had to admit he did look one hundred percent better. He had used the razor and hairbrush. He looked good enough to…Whoa there, hang on. He had tried to trim his beard back to a Van Dyke and had done a reasonable job on it. His hair, while still needing a trim, was neat and clean. It was that reddish color I’d suspected, as was his beard. He wasn’t conventionally handsome but his aura made him easy to look at it. More than anything, it was his eyes, those wonderful blue eyes—they were the finishing touch that made the whole look. Now I had a chance to really see him, I estimated he was in his late thirties, maybe early forties; in any case, definitely younger than I by far.
“I hope you’re a Michigan fan,” I said, referring to the clothing he now wore.
“I graduated from Michigan State,” he replied.
Oh geez! I thought, another blunder by the host.
He had a wry smile on his face, though, and I knew he found the situation at least somewhat amusing. Again the thoughts arose—how could something like this happen to someone? He was a college-educated man.
“I guess it’s about time we introduced ourselves.” I smiled, extending my hand. “I’m Dave. Dave Bennett.”
“Andy,” he offered, taking my hand in his.
Electric shock! I felt the instant tension in my groin and tried not to gasp. It had been a long time since I’d had a reaction like this. I swallowed hard. He didn’t seem to notice.
“I made us a salad, Andy. There are dressings on the breakfast counter.” I took a steadying breath and let those unexpected feelings drain away. “I thought I’d let you choose your own soup. Ah, there’s chili, too, if you like.”
My lack of culinary skill made it my turn to be embarrassed, but he didn’t seem to notice and chose the chili.
“Good choice,” I said, trying to make conversation. “That’s my favorite, too. Well, I’m not saying it’s your favorite, but I just thought that, well…you chose it, so I…shit, I’ll shut up now and we’ll get this meal started.”
He laughed. It was a wonderful laugh, full and rich. It filled the whole room. The tension broke and we both relaxed.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked. “I have wine, beer and I made some coffee. Decaf, if that’s okay. I can’t drink regular. There’s milk, too, I think, if it hasn’t gone bad.”
“Coffee would be fine, black. I need to stay away from the wine and beer.”
Here was another clue to the mystery of this guy who now stood in my kitchen, wearing my clothes and filling me with feelings I never thought I’d have again, as well as some I didn’t understand.
As we ate at the breakfast bar sitting side by side, I switched on the counter TV to see what was going on with the storm. They were saying if you had no reason to be out, stay in. I checked to see if Andy had any reaction to those words, but couldn’t discern any.
While we sat eating, I noticed Jake and Annie had sneaked into the room, daring to break the “no kitchen” rule to be near their new friend. Jake lay on the floor at Andy’s feet and Annie stood with her head resting on his thigh, both saying he was welcome here. I had to agree. I didn’t have the heart to banish them from the kitchen. Silently I offered my apologies to Patti. That seemed to do something inside of me. I felt the grip of grief loosen.
“They sure like you,” I offered.
“Well, the feeling’s mutual,” he said, scratching Annie behind the ear, causing Jake to stand and push his big head in for his share. “I guess it’s my love for animals and their affection for me that led me to become a vet.”
“Ah,” I said, “Michigan State.”
State was one of the best veterinary medicine schools in the country. Now things were coming together. But how could a veterinarian wind up sleeping under a bridge and getting mugged in the freezing rain?
My questions must have registered on my face because he said, “I guess I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me anything. You can tell me what you want, when you want, if you want.”
“Thanks,” he replied, but he didn’t go on.