Art removed his backpack, set it on the ground, unzipped it, and retrieved a small cooler. “Lemonade?” heasked.
Wes laughed. “You’ve been carrying that around with you this wholetime?”
“I always carry lemonade around withme.”
He fixed them both a cup they could enjoy during their break, and as Wes recovered from the walk, Art asked, “We can head back now if it’s too much foryou.”
“Too much for me? Hell no. Just need a breather. I’m just as capable as you are. Don’t forget we’re the sameage.”
“You got about three months on me, so there’sthat…”
“You remember my birthday?” Wesasked.
“I’m a summer baby…July, so when we were in grade school, I remembered whenever they would sing happy birthday to all the other kids and then I just had to have mine on my own during thesummer.”
“I can’t believe you rememberedthat.”
“You weren’t a forgettable kid, Mr.Brenner.”
Wes was intrigued by the comment, especially since the expression on Art’s face suggested much more than that. “Wasn’tI?”
“Not at all. You were loud and always running around and causing a stir. And you didn’t change much when you got older. Like you always needed an audience. I was the quiet, innocentone.”
“You had plenty of friends, so don’t act like you were any more forgettable than me. I was from a big family, so I guess I was just always trying to grab some attention where I could get it. You had brothers and sisters, didn’tyou?”
“I had two brothers and a sister. They’ve allpassed.”
“I’msorry.”
“It’s been six years since my sister’s death. And in case you’re wondering, none of us ever heard from my father, who up and left without a trace before I can even remember, and only one of my brothers bothered to go looking. He never came up withanything.”
“Yeah, I remember the word around all that. Sorry for thattoo.”
“How can I hold a grudge against a man I never knew? Not that I didn’t hold one, but I’ve made peace over the years, so the only family I’ve known of has been some nephews and nieces I keep up with. What about you, WesBrenner?”
“I have three siblings still, used to be six, and we keep in touch some, but not too much. However, we see each other at all the funerals, you know? One of my brothers and I are still really close, but he’s out in California. I saw him more when I was out there, but we mostly talk on the phone. Speaking of which, I should probably call him this week. See what he’s up to. He’s in the same position I was in. Living in a house, with few others to talk to. The herd gets kind of thin, and then you’re left chatting with your grandkid, and then…well, nice as it is, you don’t exactly have that much incommon.”
“Is that what brought you out here?” Art asked. “I’m just curious. I know my own reasons, but I imagine a guy like you wouldn’t necessarily have any reason to isolate yourself likethis.”
“This is hardly isolation,” Wes assuredhim.
“I meant as a gayman.”
“Yes, oh, I see. Why Heathrow Estates rather than Provincetown, Palm Springs, or some gay mecca? Well, this keeps me close to my grandson and great-grandkids, but since you brought it up, I’m curious to knowyourreasons.”
“Cost was a major factor for me,” Art said. “This place was a hell of a lot cheaper. For a teacher with an okay retirement, that and my investments throughout my life didn’t exactly put me in the heart of some major city. Beyond that, I’ve spent most of my life in Georgia, and this was the closest retirement community on this scale to Atlanta, so I could still go in and see my friends. And sometimes they’ll come outhere.”
As Art said those words, Wes couldn’t help but reflect on his own situation—the friends he’d made throughout his life, and the ones he’d lost. Wes more than understood. “For me,” he added, “it wasn’t just that I wanted to be near my family. I didn’t want them to be caring for me. Not that I can’t take care of myself, but I noticed, especially after my heart attack, my grandson and his wife felt like it was their job to take care of me. When I’m with them, it’s like I’m a guest, and I don’t care for that. I want my independence. I might not be able to have it for the rest of my life, but I plan on clinging to it for as long as Ican.”
“That makes a lot ofsense.”
Wes took another drink of his lemonade and realized he wasfinished.
“Another glass or shall we venture onward?” Artasked.
“Onward.”
They continued their walk, chatting some more about their families. Like with opening up with Art about something as precious as his childhood dreams, Wes appreciated the ease with which he was able to converse withhim.
