He rarely caught anything, but if he did, he’d let the fish go. Sometimes Josiah wondered why he bothered with the hook in the first place. It was all about the meditation and staring at the bobber for Denny.
The lawn needed to be mowed, so once Josiah had his coffee and had taken Denny his travel mug, he’d start on that.
There was a neighbor whose teenaged daughter liked to come and mow the lawn for Denny whenever needed. She got tickets for gigs in Chicago for her troubles along with a sizable Christmas bonus each year because that was the kind of man Denny was. However, it was obvious Denny had forgotten to call her and Josiah didn’t blame him. With the problems at home….
Sighing, Josiah poured coffee into the travel mugs and made sure both were to their liking. Then he glanced out of the window, decided to trust that the clouds weren’t coming back, and left his hoodie inside instead of putting it on.
He walked down the stairs and saw Denny already sitting on the large natural boulder that formed a nearly perfect seat with a back rest to lounge on.
“Here you go,” Josiah murmured, handing him the mug. “Any nibbles?”
“Thanks.” Denny smiled tiredly. “Nah.” Then he looked around and seemed to realize the state of the lawn. “Aw shit.”
“I’ll start on it. You sit and relax. Think about food when you feel like it, okay?” He laid a hand on Denny’s shoulder and squeezed it.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll check the grill, see if it needs any work. We have firewood, right?”
“I think there’s some in the shed, or at least there should be coals.”
“Okay.”
For a split second, Josiah wanted to lean in and kiss Denny, like he would’ve done to a lover who was feeling low. But this wasn’t a lover, this was his best friend who meant more to him than anyone else in the world.
He pulled his hand away and went to mow the lawn. He’d left his mug on the edge of the stairs and stopped every other pass to take a sip.
Everything felt so… domestic. Like a life he would’ve wanted to have if things worked his way. It never had, so far. It was fucking sad to think that the closest that he ever got to domestic bliss were stolen weekends at the cabin with his straight best friend.
After finishing the yard, Josiah put the ancient mower away in the small shed under the house. He walked back into the sunlight and stretched his back, then did a few yoga-like poses just to feel his bones crack and pop.
He wiped his forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt and jogged up the stairs to find water.
When he got back outside, he could smell the smoke from the grill. It wasn’t much more than bricks piled to form a frame with a grate on top. It worked fine, and he remembered how stupidly giddy they’d been after building it and grilling their first steaks on it. They’d taken apart an old low wall surrounding a mound of earth that must’ve been a flowerbed once. Now, the bricks were in use again, and the dirt was where Denny got his bait for the fish.
Some parts of him wondered if it would’ve been the kind of thing Denny and Dave did as kids. As if, in addition to being Denny’s best friend, Josiah was a substitute for the brother Denny had lost, too.
“How long until I should get the steaks?” Josiah asked as he meandered to the weathered picnic table at the riverside, a little ways from the boulder.
“You sit and drink your water. I’ll go get the food when I’m ready. You already did your part,” Denny said absently as he poked at the burning wood. “The coals weren’t completely dry. I opened the bag and put them by the pylon where the sun hits the longest. Hope they dry a bit.”
Josiah hummed. Then he sat down, his back to the table, and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and soaked in some more of the sunlight.
It was so peaceful here. He loved that Denny had banned music from the cabin. Sometimes, the river would bring them a few notes from upstream where the closest neighbors were, but normally they could just enjoy the buzzing insects and the birds. Now, there was only the crackling and popping of the fire, and the scent of the smoke the wind blew his way occasionally.
When he heard a splash, he chuckled without opening his eyes. “Seems like your friends are taunting you.”
“Huh?” Another splash. “Oh, yeah. Sound small though. I tossed them the worm I had hooked and took the rest of the worms back to where I got ‘em.”
The rush of affection Josiah felt then threatened to bowl him over.
Denny began to talk again and luckily the subject was enough to make Josiah feel less… whatever.
“Sammie said Gunner left.”
He huffed, almost snorted. “Yep.”
“Asshole.” Denny’s tone was enough to warm Josiah’s heart again. “What was his excuse?”
“The Hare means to me more than any man ever could.” Josiah stayed still, smiling wryly as the sun caressed his features. “I was no fun. Never wanted to go out. All I wanted to do was go to some art galleries and museums during the daytime. Not fun enough, apparently.”
