But I miss him when he’s gone. I miss him more than I thought would ever be possible. I miss the silly things mostly. The way he always has coffee made for me in the mornings. The way he walks Cupcake at the crack of dawn but returns in time to gently kiss me awake. I miss the glob of toothpaste he leaves in the sink after rinsing his mouth. I miss his clothes at the foot of the bed in the morning. I miss tugging on his curls at night, watching them pop right back into shape as he laughs at my antics. I just misshim, because in a way, he’s become my home after so many years of not having one. But to love is to set free, yet he always returns, which makes the time apart that much more bittersweet.
A year or so ago, he moved in, but his parents didn’t take their key back. Sometimes, Tucker stays over there. Never when we’re in a fight, but when he needs space. Loving someone is loving them enough to know that maybe sometimes my presence is too overwhelming, everything is too much, and letting them figure out their own way back to me. Would I marry him tomorrow? Yes, in a heartbeat. But I’m not sure marriage is something Tucker wants, and I’m okay with that. I don’t need a wedding ring to know that Tucker can’t entertain the thought of touching someone else, of letting anyone else know his secrets or his sunrise wishes. I know he’s mine.
Doesn’t mean I don’t have a platinum ring in his size tucked away at the back of my underwear drawer in case he ever gives me an inkling of want. Whether it’s just to wear a ring or it’s to have a contract with our names on it, a ring is another promise I can make to him to love him forever.
Tucker should be home tomorrow though. Thankfully.
I roll out of bed, do my morning ablutions, take Cupcake for a nice long walk, then go about my Friday routine. I head downtown to stop in at River’s coffee shop which is also now a café that serves lunch and contains the Hope Island tourism board. River is far better at being a business owner and tourism manager than I’d ever expected, but it was still easy to invest in his business.
There’s a cup of coffee waiting for me behind the counter, and I circle around with a smile his way, despite the line. Nobody bats an eye. After years of living here now, I’m just the guy who gets free coffee, not the former quarterback with a bum knee.
“Tucker comes home tomorrow,” River says with a happy little grin.
I hum in agreement. “Yep.”
“Been a few months.”
“Ninety-three days,” I reply automatically.
River rolls his eyes so hard they might get stuck. “Disgusting. He texted me some photos of the tour the other day. The juxtaposition of him starting his career with Nolan Hastings but now being the guy who tours with the pop girlies will never cease to get me.”
“Well, he loves what he does, no matter who it’s for, and Nolan tours infrequently.”
“Tucker said Nolan night do a short summer tour next year.”
I almost respondyes, in Europe, and I’ll be going, but I slam my mouth shut. Which only has River eyeing me critically as if he can taste my lack of disclosure. I smile shakily, lift my cup in thanks, then disappear back out the front door. It’s a nice October day, so I stroll through downtown. People wave and say hello, some of them stopping me to ask how Tucker is doing, some of them showing me Tucker’s Instagram feed as if I don’t see all the photos before they’re posted. Tucker is the star these days and I couldn’t be happier. To me he is the star, and I’m just the old guy who loves him.
I take the long way back home, driving along the coast with the windows down. The air is ocean-sweet and warm, despite the recent change of seasons. I pass by the marina with the seagulls overhead and wave as some of the older retirees wave at me from the dock. The winding coastal road around the island leads me right back to the road that leads home, but the road also passes by Tucker’s parents’ home. I make an impulse decision to stop. Whenever Tucker is gone, I try to put in the effort to see them a few times a week, since they’re getting older, and I don’t really have parents of my own anymore.
Brent is in the garage when I pull up, grease up to his elbows, his messy silver-shot hair ruffling in the breeze as he steps toward my truck with a happy wave.
“Just in time, son. Want to help me with the Roadster? One slight repair and she’s ready to hit the road.”
I grin despite myself. “Sure.”
Brent called me son even before Tucker and I even met, but something about him calling me son now feels real and true. The sparkle in Brent’s eye when he says it always tells me that he knows too. The sound of the waves is loud today as we work on the engine. Brent points out things for mylarger hands to do, and I listen the best I can. This knowledge will be a gift when he’s gone—one that maybe I can pass down to someone else someday.
Brent leans against the other side of the car, elbows almost down into the engine. “You know, Tucker comes home tomorrow.”
“Everyone keeps reminding me like I don’t already have a countdown on my phone,” I tease as I crank the wrench. Brent only grins at me across the hood, like he does sometimes when he’s reminded how much I love his son. “I’ll be very happy to have him home.”
“Oh, I’m sure. You know, you can marry him if you want.”
I drop the wrench, and it almost disappears before Brent reaches out to grab it. I clear my throat awkwardly, but Brent just laughs.
“Sorry, son, didn’t mean to give you a panic attack.”
“Not a panic attack.” I lean up from under the hood, grabbing the rag Brent tosses at my chest to wipe the grease away. It’s not a panic attack. It’s the knowledge that me asking Tucker will never be a thing, despite the ring settled neatly in the back of my underwear drawer. It’ll have to be Tucker that asks, otherwise I’ll worry he feels trapped. “I don’t think Tucker wants that really. Maybe someday. I’m okay with how things are for now.”
“Hmm.”
“When did you know it was time to marry Mark?”
Brent eyes me thoughtfully. “We had one of those commitment ceremony things in the early 2o00s. Got married for real when the Supreme Court decision came out, and Tucker was young then.”
“Would you have married Mark sooner if you could have?”
“I would’ve married him the minute I met him if he would’ve let me.”
