Beneath the Palisade (25 page)

“That’s so sad.” Ian shook his head.

“Okay, here we are. The office is in front, and surprise, there is a complete living quarters in back. Check it out.” Once again Tiffany held the door while they entered.

The front of the building was exactly what he had expected. Like the cabins, there was a small seating area in front of the windows. Across from it was a wooden counter that stretched almost the width of the room—the front desk. At the far end was an opening to allow a person to move out from behind it. An archway behind the desk hinted there was more.

“It’s your basic front office like you see in so many of the strip motels. Let’s go behind the desk, and I’ll show you the living quarters.”

They followed Tiffany through the arched doorway.

“Okay, this is basically a small home. We’re in the living room. The fireplace is a plus.”

“I’d miss not having one.” He hadn’t thought about it, but not having a fireplace would really suck.

“It basically just keeps flowing back. The next room is the kitchen. I was surprised. It’s been updated. At least in the last ten years. You wouldn’t have to do anything with it unless it really bothered you the way it is.”

“It bothers me, but only because I’m spoiled.”

“There’s no pasta faucet.” Ian was coming around.

“That’s strange, because I would have expected one,” Tiffany joked. “And finally, the bathroom which has… ta-da! A built-in sauna.”

“Wow, a sauna. Let’s have a look.” Harper opened the cedar door. “Wow! Ian, look! There are top and bottom benches.” Raising his eyebrows, he flashed Ian what he knew to be his naughty smile.

“I’m not touching that one.” Tiffany giggled. “Any questions, boys?”

“Now can we talk price?” Harper was starting to get excited. The last thing he wanted was for him and Ian to get all charged up and then have the whole thing quashed because of the price. The Palisade Beach Cabins could definitely work.

“Yes, we can. Here’s the deal. Do you guys mind if we step back outside? The smell in here, it’s not something I’m dealing well with.” Tiffany must have expected the answer was yes, because before either of them could answer, she was on her way out.

“Thanks,” she said when they had rejoined her. “I’m really sensitive to smells.”

Not as sensitive as you are to naked jumping jacks, I bet.
Harper giggled at the image he’d just created.

“There’s a contingency to purchasing this place. For ten years after the purchase date, it
has
to remain rental cabins. The owner will not budge on this. He’s hoping someone will step in and refurbish it to its original splendor, or better. He knows he could make a boatload of money if he allowed the land to be split up for homes, but he doesn’t want that. He wants to do this in memory of his late wife. The asking price is $350,000, a little but not much over your budget.”

I
AN
waved as Tiffany sped out of the parking lot of the little diner. She dropped them off so they could have some time to privately chat about the cabins.

“The Lip Smacker, that’s a cute name, don’t you think?” Harper followed Ian inside.

“This place is a lot like the restaurants we have where I grew up.” He walked past the cashier’s stand and into the dining room. “Is this okay?” He gestured to a booth along the window side.

“Sure. I didn’t realize it, but I’m starving.” Harper plopped down on the green leather upholstered booth. “How about you? Hungry?”

“Famished. Do you see a menu anywhere?”

“Hello.” A woman greeted them from behind the cash register. “Your server will be right with you.”

He looked around. There was only a handful of patrons. Checking his watch, he wasn’t surprised. It was after one. The lunch rush for a weekday was over.

“Hi, I’m Alex.” A young man approached carrying two waters and menus. “Welcome to the Lip Smacker.”

“Hey, Alex. Any specials today?” He knew from back home the specials in these little dives were usually the route to go.

“Yes. Today we have a chicken potpie, and the soup is beef barley. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A diet cola for me.” Harper’s nose was buried in the menu.

“The same for me.”

“Got it. Be right back.” Alex smiled and left the table.

“Anything look good?” Ian had already made up his mind to try the potpie and a cup of the soup.

“Lots of things look good. What are you having?” Harper looked up.

“Both specials.”

“Hmm… okay. Me too. I can have a burger anywhere.” Harper closed the menu and sat back. “Interesting morning, wasn’t it?”

“Very.”
Please, oh please, can we buy it?

“I think there’s potential there. But I have to be honest, part of the reason I think that is I know what your skills as a landscaper are capable of. There’s little doubt in my mind you’d have that place looking like Covington Garden if you were cut loose.”

Ian felt Harper’s foot lift his pants leg.

“Quit.” He sensed Harper was onto him. It took everything he had not to beg Harper for the cabins.

“Here’s your sodas.” Alex placed tall, thick plastic glasses and straws on the table. “Do you need more time with the menu?”

“I think we’re both going to have your special, the potpie, and Harper? You want a bowl or a cup of soup?”

“Cup is fine.”

“Make that two cups of soup.”

“Great. The potpies take a few minutes. Do you want your soup out first?” Alex collected the menus from the table.

“Please, we’re starving.” Harper removed the paper from his straw and inserted it into his glass.

“Thanks.” Alex dashed off.

“He’s a cutie. Can’t be much older than eighteen, you think?”

“That sounds about right.” Ian surveyed the room, adding, “I hate saying this, but I just have to. I think he plays on our team.”

“I got that sense too. Yeah, the whole gaydar thing, I don’t like to go there. But sometimes, there’s that little special, I don’t know, something you connect with.”

He felt Harper’s foot lift his pants leg again. “I think it would be a special challenge to be gay up here, don’t you?”

“He reminds me so much of myself.” In hopes of finding a successful pestering maneuver of his own, Ian placed his foot up against Harper’s crotch and then smiled.

“Why would you want to hurt Binky?” Harper looked down at his lap.

“I’m,” he laughed, “I’m not going to hurt Binky. Binky is my friend. But if Binky doesn’t keep his foot off my pants leg, he’s going to get the squeeze.”

“Huh?” Harper bent closer to his lap. “Binky says he loves you. Isn’t that sweet?”

“Here you go.”

Saved by food, he thought as Alex placed steaming cups of soup in front of them. “The potpies will be out in a minute. Do you need anything else right now?”

“I don’t think so. Binky?” Ian chuckled.

“I’m good.” Harper laughed.

“Great. Back in a minute.”

“Maybe he has an Andy for a friend?” He blew on his soup spoon.

“Come again?” Harper ripped open a cracker packet and emptied it into his cup.

“Andy. If it hadn’t been for Andy, I don’t know how I’d have survived. Knowing we were
both
queer somehow gave us power. We felt more special than we did immoral. This soup is awesome.”

“I wonder if he knows we are? Yum, this
is
good.” Harper toasted with his spoon.

“I think there’s a good chance he does, Bink!” They both laughed.

The beef barley soup kept them busy until Alex returned. “How’s it taste?” From his tray, he hoisted two golden brown potpies onto the table.

“Very good. Thank you.” Harper slurped another spoonful into his mouth.

“Careful, these are super hot. I’ll stop back to see if you need anything else.”

“Thanks.” Ian rearranged the dishes in front of him. “I like this place.” He felt like he was going to burst.
Say it! It’s fine.
“Harper, I’m notorious for making decisions before thinking them through. You need to know that about me. But….”
Say it, you imbecile!

“I think Brent will rent the house. I put out some feelers without letting him know what we were thinking about.” Harper used his fork to tear the crust off his potpie. He mixed it in with the hot, creamy filling. “Ian, watching you this morning was amazing. Admit it, you were a goner the minute you stepped out of the car, right?” Harper blew on his fork. “Damn, he wasn’t kidding. This is like molten lava. Be careful.”

“Everywhere I looked I saw potential. I’ve seen dozens of these little cabin cluster outfits. They’re all around up here. But I think we could bring something new to the table. I think we could make that piece of property… magical.” Ian giggled, amazed at how passionate he sounded.

“I can’t see what you can see. I sensed you envisioning it like you just described, but I can’t see things like you do. I saw a geographically beautiful piece of property. That in itself set it apart.” Harper savored his first bite now that it had cooled. “Oh man, this is tasty. I had an idea I could make it work just on that. Add to the mix your vision, and I don’t know how we could go wrong. I really don’t.”

Ian sampled his own bite. The crust was light and rich with a buttery taste, the filling velvety smooth and savory. “What about the price? I feel bad I don’t have more to contribute.”

Harper, I’d throw every cent I had into this idea.

“I can deal with the price. That won’t be a problem. Don’t feel bad about your contribution. Look at it this way. I have the money up front, and you bring your wonderful landscaping skills, which I don’t have. Trust me, hon, it’s an equal trade-off.”

“Okay.” Ian saw the logic in Harper’s reasoning, but it didn’t matter. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t escape the feeling of inadequacy. Even as a kid he had worked hard at establishing his own financial independence. The paper route, picking up the odd job here and there; if there was a penny to be made, he went after it. Faced with no other option, he was forced to trust Harper meant what he had just said. He’d compensate by working his ass off on the property.

“The other thing, I think I could get into the office bookkeeping angle of the business. The publicity. I think I’d enjoy that. And talk about placing the cart before the horse, but maybe we vacation somewhere during the long winter. Someplace warm. How’s it sound so far?”

“How’re the potpies? You guys doin’ okay?” Alex, suddenly appearing at their table, seemed anxious for an opinion.

“I don’t know how they could be any better. Delicious.” Harper smiled.

“Compliment the chef for us. These could be addicting,” Ian added.

“It’s Audrey, the owner. I think she said hi when you walked in. She comes in early and makes them from scratch. She also makes all the pies and muffins.”

He’s proud. He’s proud and not afraid to show it.
“Tell me, have you worked here a long time, Alex?”

“This is my fourth season. Pretty much all through high school.”

“Let me do the math.” Harper wiped his chin with his napkin. “Did you graduate this year?”

“Yeah.” Alex grinned. “I thought I’d never make it. Are you guys….”

“Together? On vacation?” They completed Alex’s question in unison.

“We’re thinking of maybe moving up here. At least for part of the year. Good idea? Bad idea?” Harper looked over and winked. “Give it to us straight, Alex.”

Give it to us straight? Why the hell would he do that?

“If you haven’t spent any time here before, I guess it’s pretty cool.”

“A waiter and a diplomat.” Harper chuckled. “Very good.”

“Well, I’ll let you guys finish up. If you have room for dessert, Audrey makes a killer banana cream pie. Just let me know.”

They both watched as Alex retreated into the kitchen.

“What a little sweetie. Hey, do you think he was fishing, you know, to find out about us?” Harper was serious.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Binky? He knows. He knows.” They roared with laughter.

“Hey, Tiffany’s back. She just pulled into the parking lot.” He slammed a huge forkload of potpie into his mouth.

“Well, slugger, what do you think? Feel like owning some cabins?”

“Nothing’s forever, right?”
Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever expected to be a resort owner. Andy is going to shit!

“Right. So….” Harper held out.

“Will you be staying with us for one or two nights?” Ian bellowed for everyone to hear.

H
ARPER
found it almost impossible to relax. There were too many ifs floating around, and they all hinged on whether or not their offer on the Palisade Beach Cabins was accepted. Almost every aspect of the after-dinner conversation was prefaced with some type of qualifier regarding it. An agonizing week had passed and still no word from Tiffany. Jazzed to make this happen, he and Ian had decided to offer the seller exactly what he was asking. He had spent the day after giving her the green light crafting a proposal, using many of Ian’s preliminary landscaping ideas to communicate to the seller their intent to adhere to his wishes. Choosing his wording carefully, he hoped the document would demonstrate a respect for the property and its natural beauty, outline some of their ideas, and alleviate any fears the seller might have.

Despite a growing concern their offer might be rejected, they both had a good week. Ian continued his hitting streak, delivering a three-run homer in the ninth to give the Hornets a seven-five win over the Greasy Axles, a team made up of area car mechanics. If Ian was experiencing any remorse at the idea of relocating to the North Shore, he wasn’t displaying any outward signs. If anything, he seemed to be growing more anxious and pumped every day.

The deep ache he’d experienced in his arm since the shooting had vanished this week. Wednesday morning he’d gotten out of bed anticipating the pain he’d come to expect while getting dressed, but to his surprise, it was no longer there. Throughout the day he had put the arm through various tests, and despite what he did, the pain refused to acknowledge itself. He couldn’t tell if it was the excitement surrounding the cabins or another signal from his body, but his energy was back to normal too. The biggest achievement of the week—
Knock on wood!
—was that
he hadn’t experienced a single bad dream.
Bite me, Phyllis!