Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 01 - Dark Horse (16 page)

The flight is called, and Jeff gets up with Dan. When they get to the Jetway opening, Jeff hands two tickets to the flight attendant. Dan is finally present enough to realize that something’s going on.

“Wait. Are you flying with me?” Jeff just smiles, and Dan shakes his head. “No… man, I’m sorry, I’ll be fine. I just… it caught me off guard or something. I can pull it together, don’t worry.”

Jeff’s hand is on the back of Dan’s neck, and he gives him a gentle shake. “I’m not worried, kid. I’ve got some business in Kentucky anyway. I might as well take care of it now.”

“Business? When did you start having business in Kentucky?” Dan’s mind still feels muddy, but he doesn’t remember Jeff saying anything about this before.

Jeff smiles. “Is this really something you want to talk about right now?” They’re walking down the Jetway, and then they get to the plane and are herded to the left, toward their seats. Jeff stands aside for Dan to go in first, and then takes the aisle seat. Dan feels like he’s being protected.

Dan stares out the window for most of the flight, watching the clouds and counting in his head. Any other thoughts have a way of leading back to Justin. Thinking about horses is obviously impossible, but Dan also can’t think about movies without remembering the ones he saw with Justin, music without thinking of Justin’s favorite songs, or politics without remembering how passionate Justin was about his chosen issues. As far as Dan can recall, he and Justin never did math together. He’s up to counting by seventeens when the announcement comes on to fasten seatbelts. The minutiae of landing and getting off the plane let Dan get into the airport, but when the security doors slide open in the Arrivals area, and he sees a grim-faced Chris waiting outside, he actually stops and turns around, starts walking in the opposite direction.

Jeff lets him take a few steps and then grabs his arm and guides him out of the way of the other travelers. Jeff looks at him in concern, and Dan manages to say, “I just need a minute, just a minute.” The flight had been like a little break from reality. He’d never been on a plane with Justin, so as long as he kept his brain turned off, he could feel as if Justin was still on the ground, waiting for him. Dan knows that as soon as he steps past the door, as soon as he sees Chris’s grief, the opportunity for denial will be over.

Jeff stands patiently, lets Dan take a few deep breaths, and then walks behind him with a hand lightly touching the small of his back. Dan feels a bit like he’s being herded, but in a good way. This time he makes it through the door, and Chris sees them and watches as they approach.

“Hey, Danny.” Chris’s voice is low and scratchy. Dan nods at him, and Chris extends his hand for Jeff to shake. “Hey, Jeff. Thanks for making the trip.”

Jeff nods, and then looks at Dan. “Are you okay with Chris, kid?” Dan just looks at him blankly. Okay to do what? Jeff tries again. “Chris is going to drive you back to the apartment, okay?”

Dan stares at him. The apartment where he and Justin lived together? They think Dan is going there? He starts walking, heading for the exit. He calls back over his shoulder, “I just need some air. I’ll be right back,” but of course they follow him, and when he gets outside, it’s no better. He doesn’t need air—he needs Justin.

Jeff moves closer again, brings his hand back to Dan’s shoulder. “Do you want to go somewhere else? Do you want to stay at a hotel?” Jeff looks to Chris for permission as he says, “Or at Chris’s place?”

Dan takes a deep breath and tells himself to stop being such a little girl. He manages a sort-of smile, although he suspects it looks about as real as it feels. “No, sorry, I’m being an idiot. Thanks for coming out, Jeff, and, Chris, thanks for coming to get me.” He straightens up. “Yeah, if you could drop me off at the apartment, that’d be great.”

Jeff is looking at Dan as if he’s trying to figure out how much of that was an act. Chris doesn’t seem too convinced either.

 

“You’re totally welcome at my place, Dan—or at Karl and Molly’s or Robyn’s….”

Dan doesn’t really want to break down in the airport, and that means he needs to get out of there soon. “No, thanks, I’m fine.” He turns to Jeff but can’t look him in the eye, knows that the kindness that he would see there would destroy the facade he’s trying to build. “Thanks again, Jeff.”

Jeff looks like he doesn’t want to leave, but he’s clearly being dismissed. He gives Dan a long look, but Dan still won’t look straight back at him. He sighs. “Okay, kid, you’ve got my cell number, and I’ll be in town. Give me a call if you need me, for anything.” Dan nods, but he needs to get out of there. Jeff is honesty and comfort, and Dan can’t let himself be honest right now, can’t be comforted without collapsing. This is Kentucky, not California, and in Kentucky, Dan has responsibilities.

Jeff heads off, and Dan follows Chris to his truck. They ride quietly, and Dan is glad that it’s dark out, glad that he can’t really see much when he looks out the window, can’t see the familiar landmarks, can’t see the places he and Justin had been together.

They turn off the highway, and Chris starts to talk. “Remember the time we went up the Reds game?”
Dan isn’t sure he can do this.

“It was Justin’s turn to drive, and you and me were shitfaced before we even got to the park. Remember? Remember how pissed off he was? Just swearing at us the whole time.” Chris might be crying a little, but he’s keeping his eyes on the road. “And when we got to the game, we—” Chris breaks off, his voice unsteady.

“We snuck into the VIP section, and you met that girl, that redhead.” Dan stops looking out the window, looks over at Chris instead. “Yeah, man, I remember.”

“I thought I was in love, I swear. She went to the bathroom or something, and you were passed out over in the corner—”
“I was resting my eyes,” Dan interjects, and his voice sounds almost normal.

“Yeah, okay. You were out of it, and I was going on and on to Justin about how I’d never felt this way, and it was like a lightning bolt, and all that crap.” Chris’s laughing a little, too, now, but they pass a street light, and Dan can see that Chris’s eyes are still shining with tears. “And he’d been so pissed off all day, and I thought he was gonna shit all over me and my little dream, and then”—Chris glances over at Dan, and then jerks his eyes back to the road—“and then he looked over at you, and he said, ‘yeah, sometimes you just know’.”

Dan takes a minute. He’s never heard this part of the story before. “He looked over at me all drunk and passed out, and he said that?” Chris grins. “Dude, you were just resting your eyes.”

Dan turns to the window again, sees a farm pass by, the lights in the house warm and welcoming. He turns to Chris again. “Give it to me straight, man… was I drooling?”

Chris’s lips twitch. “Possibly there was a little drool.” Then he looks at Dan, his face serious. “And he still loved you that much.”

 

Dan takes a deep, shaky breath. “And now it’s over.”

They’re at the farm, and Chris pulls in and parks in front of the barn. “If we’re being honest, Danny… it’s been over for a while.” Dan doesn’t want to hear this speech, opens his door to get out, but Chris grabs his arm. “Not like you shouldn’t be hurting, just like… you’re surviving, you’re managing without him. You know? I know it hurts, but… you can get past it.” He leans back in his seat and takes his hand off Dan’s arm. “We can all get past it.”

Dan has his feet on the ground, and he just sits there for a minute, breathing in the night. Then he stands, says, “Thanks for the ride, Chris,” and shuts the truck door.

He knows it’s late, knows he should go up the stairs to the apartment, but instead he opens the door to the barn and slips inside. The horses are asleep, and the barn is quiet. He walks down the aisle to Monty’s stall, and looks over the door. Most horses sleep standing up, but Monty has a tendency to lie down, curled up like he’s still a foal. He’s lying like that now, and it makes him look peaceful and innocent.

Dan leans against the stall door, brings his head down to rest his chin on his hands, and looks at the horse. Dan believes that animals have emotions. He’s seen too much anger and joy and frustration and confusion and fear from them to deny it. But he doesn’t know if they feel love, and he doesn’t know if they feel sorrow. Monty is a full brother to Willow, the horse that had fallen on Justin. And she’d been injured in the fall, too, broken a leg and lots of other things, been put down by the vets before she’d left the show grounds. But Monty hadn’t even noticed that there was an empty stall. Dan envies that, sometimes. But then he wonders if it’s worth the trade, if never feeling sorrow makes it worth never feeling love.

He hears a shuffling sound and looks down the barn aisle, sees Chris standing there bashfully. Chris comes a little closer, and Dan’s eyes go to the bottle of Wild Turkey in his hand. Chris holds it up questioningly.

Dan takes a long look, and then nods his head. “Fuck, yeah. Let’s go upstairs.”

They mostly drink silently. Every now and then one of them will come up with a memory, check to see if the other remembers it the same way. After a while, Chris is falling asleep in his chair, and Dan pulls himself to his feet and slaps Chris’s shoulder. “I think the blankets for the couch are still packed, man. Come help me find them, or you’re gonna freeze your ass off.” Chris staggers up and joins Dan by the pile of belongings that he’d never bothered to put away after he’d moved back. They rustle around a bit and find the blankets, and then Dan goes into the bedroom and pulls one of the pillows off his bed, lobs it at Chris.

Chris bundles himself in the blankets and collapses on the couch, pillow wrapped in his arm. Dan stumbles to his bed and climbs in, and he falls asleep before he even has time to think about how Justin will never sleep in the bed again.

It’s like his head barely had time to hit the pillow before he hears the sounds of the horses being fed down in the barn. He wants to go back to sleep, wants to dream about a life where Justin timed the jump just a fraction of a second differently, where he took the turn a little wider and came at the obstacle a little straighter. But he can hear the horses making their “bring me food” rumbles downstairs, and he knows he’s never going to get back to sleep. He stumbles to the kitchen and puts on the coffee, then heads for the shower.

He adjusts the water temperature and strips down, then climbs into the tub. He runs the bar of soap over his body, down to his groin. The shower used to be his standard masturbation location. It’s ironic, in a way, that back when he was having lots of sex he used to jerk off all the time, and then when he stopped having sex, he pretty much stopped jerking off too. He hadn’t given it up altogether, but it had changed from being a natural, instinctive way to enjoy his body into an emotional minefield. He couldn’t manage to come without picturing something, someone, and before Justin’s accident it could have been anyone, someone from a movie or a guy he’d seen on the street or, often, Justin in a particularly hot moment. But after the accident, Dan felt like it had to be Justin, but then he worried that he was living in the past and worried when the memories began to fade and became less vivid. It started to feel dirty, like he was taking advantage somehow. It felt wrong to want someone who was in no condition to want him back. It became easier to just turn the water a little colder and put the whole thing out of his mind.

On this morning, he’s too hung over for it to be much of an issue, and he turns the water on cold to help shrink his headache rather than his erection.

When he gets out of the shower, Chris is awake, already drinking coffee. Dan grunts at him and stumbles toward the coffee pot. Chris grunts back and heads for the shower.

By the time Chris is out of the bathroom, Dan is dressed and has eaten a breakfast of cold cereal. He’s thinking about going downstairs, but he’s a bit afraid to see anyone. He can handle Robyn, he’s pretty sure, but dealing with Karl or Molly would be torture. Chris pulls on his clothes from the day before, then gets a bowl from the cupboard and pours himself some cereal, cursing when there’s not quite enough milk left in the carton. Dan watches him eat, and Chris eventually says, “Karl and Molly wanted to talk to you, find out if you have any preferences for the service or whatever.”

Dan shakes his head. “I don’t think I care. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Chris shrugs. “I don’t know. I think they’re trying to make a point; do it right this time.” He seems to know he’s on shaky ground, but Dan doesn’t want to start that fight up again. He’s tired, and Chris is all he’s got left of Justin.

“Are you going to talk to them today? Could you just tell them I don’t care?”
“Yeah, I can do that.” Chris finishes his cereal and sits back. “But you’re going to have to talk to them sometime.”

Dan would rather not think about that. “Yeah, sometime.” He squints at Chris. “That’s not one of them downstairs, though, right? That’s Robyn?”

“I dunno, probably.” He stands up and takes his bowl and Dan’s to the sink, then comes back and sits down. “They were pretty messed up yesterday. Like, medicated.”

Dan nods, and wonders why that option hadn’t been made available to him. Some drugs could have been just what he needed. Then he thinks of the Wild Turkey, and his stomach churns a little.

“How was California?”

The question startles Dan, and it takes him a moment to even understand what Chris is talking about. “It was all right. Nice place, nice people.”

Chris nods. “Jeff seems like a good guy… seemed concerned about you yesterday.”

Dan feels like a bit of an idiot. “Yeah. I kinda… I might have screwed that up a little. I fell apart a bit, I guess. Not exactly the ideal house guest. Or the model employee.”

Chris shakes his head. “I’m sure they understood. They know the situation.”
“Yeah, but it’s not their problem. I shouldn’t have dragged them into it.”

“Cut yourself some slack, Dan. You don’t have to be Captain Control all the time.”

Dan thinks about his behavior the day before, thinks about how he can’t even remember what happened between going to lean on the boulder and submerging his face in the basin of water. “Yeah, I kinda do,” he says softly.