By the time I reached the bedroom door, I had convinced myself that our reunion would be amicable. I was certain that I’d look into his sapphire blue eyes and recall our friendship fondly, but I wouldn’t be overcome with remorse over the way things ended. My constructive pep talk went right out the window the moment I opened the door and walked into the room.
There was a scent inside the room that didn’t belong. It wasn’t lemony furniture polish, an air freshener, or the fabric softener used on the bedding. It was manly, crisp, and earthy. It was from a man’s soap or cologne. I had just stood by Mack for several minutes and the same scent didn’t cling to him. It could’ve belonged to one of the other guys on the construction crew, but I instinctively knew it wasn’t them.
Maverick.
He had entered my old room and looked around the place to inspect for damage. When he shut the door, his scent was captured and held in the room. It seemed impossible, but there was no other explanation. Besides, I had learned to accept things I couldn’t explain a long time ago. I couldn’t help but wonder, did he think back on all of our happy moments, both the innocent and the carnal? Did he have a single moment of regret for the way things ended between us? Was there ever a moment that he wondered what ever happened to me? They were the same questions that battered my brain for the last two hours of my drive.
I could easily answer yes to all of those questions, but I was the one left behind with no idea what happened to him. My overactive brain dreamed up hundreds of reasons for his disappearance and none of them were good. Each and every time, I came to the conclusion that what happened between us was the reason his family left. Maverick never said much about his family and we rarely spent time at his house, but I somehow knew that they didn’t approve of our friendship.
The sound of drilling and hammering broke me out of my reverie. The sound of progress was so much better to focus on than painful memories. I trudged down the steps and outside to retrieve mine and Madge’s belongings. She had made friends with a member of the crew and laid beside him as he installed my replacement door.
A short while later, Mack found me in the kitchen unpacking some supplies I had brought with me. I would need to go to the store for fresh food, but I was at least set for the night. “We’re heading on out.” He handed me a ring with two keys for the new front door. “We’ll see you at 8:30 in the morning.”
“Thanks, Mack.”
I settled on the sofa with my laptop while Madge took a nap with her favorite stuffed rabbit. I wasn’t surprised to find an email from Justin. He had been supportive and kind when I called him and told him I had an emergency and needed to go to North Carolina. I didn’t tell him the details about my emergency and I could tell by the tone of his email that he thought something was wrong with Minnie. I felt guilty that he had been worrying about her all day and replied to his email to clear up the misunderstanding.
I knew that he wouldn’t understand my attachment to my ancestral home. He thought I was crazy when I bought it when we were still together. He refused to stay in the house, because he said he was allergic to the south. I tried to disabuse him of his biases toward southern people, but he was convinced they were all homophobes. I countered that homophobia existed everywhere and reminded him of the hateful things that were said to us when we held hands in Time’s Square in NYC on New Year’s Eve one year. He was convinced they were rare occurrences. It was like talking to a brick wall and highlighted another glaring difference between our personalities.
Not surprisingly, his supportive tone turned derisive when he learned that I had dropped everything to check on my home. Nothing that I read shocked me until I got to the last line?When are you coming back to me?Not the practice, not Washington D.C., but him. I had put the confrontation off for too many weeks, yet I wasn’t prepared to deal with it right then. I was too emotional after learning about Maverick’s return and I didn’t think it was appropriate to discuss over email.
My reply was short and sweet.I don’t know when I will be returning to work. I’ll keep you posted.Let him think I missed his innuendo for now. I planned to have a much needed conversation once I returned to D.C.; I couldn’t allow things to continue, because it wasn’t fair to either one of us. I didn’t want to mislead him and my silence could be mistaken as a coy act, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
The email exchange had left me feeling restless on top of all the other tumultuous emotions I had felt all day. I decided a swim would be just the thing Madge and I needed. I changed into swim trunks, grabbed a towel, and a tennis ball for Madge. She barked and danced excitedly all the way down the back porch steps, over the back lawn, and the sandy beach until I reared back and threw the ball into the ocean. I laughed as she raced through the sand and leaped into the water after it.
I joined her in the surf and she swam back to me with the ball in her mouth. She dropped it in front of me and watched me with intense brown eyes as I raised my arm back and threw it again. We played retrieve and return for a long time until I could tell her legs were getting tired.
Madge followed me to the beach towel and flopped down beside me. I closed my eyes and let the salty air blow through my hair. I felt the tension fading from my body as dusk started to approach. It had been a long day and I was planning on turning in early so I could get a good night of rest and be ready when the crew showed up the next day. Would Maverick join them? I stopped my train of thought immediately because I didn’t want to work myself up or I knew I’d never fall asleep.
I woke up my snoring dog, stood up, and gathered our stuff. I turned to head back to the house when I saw the silhouette of a man standing on the back porch. I didn’t need light to see who my visitor was, because I could feel the intensity of his gaze on me as I approached him. Twenty-two years may have passed, but I vividly recalled the way those eyes made me feel. I only hoped I could keep my emotions in control when I stood in front of him.
Maverick had been tall when we were teens, but it seemed that he had still grown a few more inches after I last saw him. His height wasn’t the only change to his body either. I could see the hard, lean muscle beneath his black t-shirt and the thick muscles of his thighs beneath his holey jeans. His hair was still as black as a raven’s feather, but it was longer. His wavy locks hung down to his shoulders and looked extremely soft. His neatly trimmed black beard covered the lower half of his face, but did nothing to take away from his chiseled lips.
Would I have recognized him by site if my body hadn’t given it away? I looked into his brilliant sapphire blue eyes and had my answer. I had never again encountered anyone with eyes the same color as his. They stood out more brilliantly against the tan of his skin, the slashing black eyebrows, and the longest dark eyelashes I had ever seen. I would have known him anywhere.
“Hello, Mav.”
