Grey City Rhapsody

VI: Stairway to Heaven

Nick searched the house, scoured every bedroom and bathroom and study and hallway and living room in the manor, even checking beneath tables in the basement laboratory for Gordon and was livid to discover his boyfriend was nowhere to be found. The kids—Gordon's children—would be here any minute, and he had bailed on them once again. Nick scrubbed at his forehead and attempted some breathing exercises to quell the heat rising in his ears, hands, and cheeks. He caught a whiff of his dirt-covered hands and sweaty pits and twisted his mouth. He hopped in and out of the shower, dressed in a clean plaid shirt and a pair of khakis with the least amount of holes, and thought a moment about putting his old military commissioned hat through the wash before deciding it was too much. 

As he nitpicked at little messes around the house, he thought of the young Bekkr twins when they were small enough to sit in his lap. He remembered Ash pulling the camouflage fabric from his head and calling it a fisherman's hat. He remembered the little girl seeming mesmerized, if a little fearful, to see that he still had hair and an entire head beneath it, but quickly replaced the hat where it belonged because "it looks wrong." He remembered Mikey having the same reaction when he had taken them out fishing on Jolene Bend. The boy had caught a 13-pound rainbow trout and was eager to get the fish back into the water so that it could swim home. The man had taken his cap from his own head this time and covering Mikey's black mop. The boy had stared at him from beneath the lip of the lid for a long time and kept the hat until they got home. Ash had badgered him the entire drive, demanding the hat been returned to Nick or given to her as the favorite. Nick was disappointed to find his hat on the master bedroom dresser that night and the boy had been aloof ever since. 

His fists clenched, and his eyes were too full to prevent the tears from slipping down his cheeks and dotting his clean shirt. He walked like he was wading through thick mud and his senses narrowed on the images of the kids and the rocking chair. He collapsed hard and the cherrywood groaned painfully as his chest was rife with contractions and his lips disappeared in an effort to keep the sounds of grief inside of his throat. It was sometime before he could even attempt more breathing exercises. When the tears had stopped flowing and the iron fist around his heart had grown numb, he closed his eyes and reached out to the house. He reached out with his ears: water pipes rattled together and a light breeze brushed the curtains and birds and frogs sang. He reached out with his nose: 200-year-old wood, leather couches, apple spray, and the lingering scent of a lone man's breakfast. 

Nick wiped the drying tracts onto his cuff and stood up to blow his nose. He climbed the stairs, grabbed his dirt covered vest and truck keys, then drove to Home Depot for the second time. He would be there when Ash arrived, but he would be there with new plants for the Manor's garden.