Something Like Thunder (14 page)

Caesar squinted at where he was pointing. “Warrensburg?”

“Yeah. But only when I was really little.”

“So you don’t remember it much?”

“Not really, but I still go back there to see my grandparents.”

Caesar perked up at this. “Really? Do you…”

“Get along with them?” Nathaniel laughed. “Yeah! I love them!”

For once his family wasn’t a taboo subject. That’s when the idea came to him: Why not visit his grandparents together? The timing was perfect too, since they were facing a three-day weekend. He asked Mr. Hubbard first, because he didn’t want Caesar to get excited about the idea if he wouldn’t be allowed.

“He’s a little young to be taking a road trip,” Mr. Hubbard said sternly, but a twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Then again, it
would
broaden his horizons. Besides, I know you’ll keep him safe. We trust you.”

These three simple words gnawed at Nathaniel during the drive to Missouri. They left shortly after breakfast, Caesar hyper and talkative over the next three hours. Only after they blew through Dallas and entered Oklahoma did his passenger settle down, leaning the seat back and closing his eyes. Nathaniel occasionally glanced over, catching little glimpses. Like the olive-toned skin of his bare forearm. Or the muscles of his neck and the slightly agape mouth, his breathing heavy in sleep. Even the twist of denim between his legs, just in case morning wood revealed tantalizing details. Or road trip wood, Nathaniel supposed, but his wry smile soon faded.

We trust you.

Not just Mr. Hubbard. The “we” implied Mrs. Hubbard did too. She certainly checked up on them less. When he had begun tutoring Caesar, she often stuck her head into the room to see how they were doing. Even after he’d moved in, she tended to find excuses to look in on them. But not anymore. Nathaniel was an honorary member of the family. And what was he doing with that trust? Hell, what was he doing at all? He wanted to open himself to Caesar, to prove that they knew each other well, but not so their friendship could thrive. Nathaniel wanted much more than that. He harbored no delusions of Mr. Hubbard’s reaction if he learned the truth.

He tried to put these thoughts out of his mind as they drove. The only other option was to stop the car and turn around. After a pee break in Oklahoma City and a meal courtesy of the gas station microwave ovens, they pressed on, Caesar becoming less excited and more restless.

“Maybe we should have flown instead,” he complained as they crossed another state line.

“Warrensburg isn’t exactly near a major airport,” Nathaniel pointed out.

“So what does it have?”

He thought about the question, feeling confident of the answer. “Nothing.”

Caesar groaned dramatically. Then he perked up again. “Can I drive?”

“Do you know how?”

“No.”

Nathaniel glanced over at him quizzically.

“Relax,” Caesar said. “I’m in Driver’s Ed.”

“Gosh, that
is
comforting. Do you have your learner’s permit?”

“Nope. So can I drive?”

Nathaniel thought about it and shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”

He heard a distant echo of
we trust you
as he pulled the car over, but the road ahead of them was clear and straight, empty of any challenging curves. Besides, the way Caesar was grinning as they passed each other in front of the hood already made the risk worth any consequences. That didn’t mean Nathaniel would let down his guard. Once buckled up in each other’s seats, he coached Caesar through every maneuver, the role of tutor and student familiar to them both as they pulled out onto the highway. Caesar was doing well. Until he got daring.

“Slow down,” Nathaniel said, eyes on the speed gauge.

“I just want to hit eighty-eight miles per hour. Like in that one movie.”

“
Back to the Future
,” Nathaniel said automatically, “and I want you to slow down.”

Caesar bit his lip, looking more amused as he pressed down on the pedal. The little arm reached eighty and kept going. Nathaniel didn’t normally find speed intimidating, but the way Caesar constantly adjusted the wheel was making the car wobble back and forth. They were coming up on another vehicle too.

“Either brake,” Nathaniel said, pressing himself against the seat, “or switch lanes. Now!”

The car weaved a few more times, the rear of a minivan filling much of the windshield. At the last possible moment, their car careened into the other lane and then back again, cutting off the minivan. An angry honk sounded at the same time that Nathaniel swore, censoring the f-bomb. He was sure Caesar heard it anyway, not that he seemed to care. Instead he was laughing, tears in his eyes.

“You almost killed us,” Nathaniel said. “Scratch that. You
are
dead! Just as soon as you pull over.”

“Then I better keep driving.” Caesar glanced over, acting confused by the anger that greeted him. “What? I remembered to signal!”

Nathaniel scowled. Once Caesar’s attention was back on the road, he allowed himself a covert smile. “Take the next exit.”

“Are we there already?”

“No, but I have to take a piss. And check to see if I shit myself.”

Caesar went into another fit of laughter. Nathaniel reached over to stabilize the wheel until he calmed down. He remained on edge as they left the highway, Caesar bringing them to a gas station full of more obstacles. Somehow he managed to park without taking out one of the gas pumps and blowing them all to kingdom come.

“How’d I do?” Caesar asked.

Nathaniel answered him with a glare and a swat to the back of the head.

Thankfully, the rest of the journey wasn’t so eventful. They reached their destination a few hours past dinnertime, their stomachs grumbling, but Nathaniel knew his grandparents would have food waiting for them. They owned a home on the edge of town, meaning Caesar would have to wait to see glorious downtown Warrensburg. For now they were both eager to escape from the car. His grandparents lived at the end of a cul-de-sac, their house nestled up against undeveloped land—woods that Nathaniel had memories of playing in as a child. The home was ranch style, the windows lit by a warmth that welcomed them inside.

The door was open before he could knock. His grandmother, of course. She resembled her daughter—his mother—although her hair was gray instead of golden and always worn in a bob. She squeezed him tightly while squealing with joy. Then she moved to do the same to Caesar, despite never having met him before.

“Come in, come in!” she said, ushering them inside. “I thought you’d never get here! I was about to send out a search party. What time did you leave?”

“After breakfast,” Nathaniel answered.

“On the phone you said you were leaving early!”

“That is early!” Nathaniel retorted.

“Teenagers,” his grandmother said playfully. “Introduce me to your friend.”

Before he could, his grandfather appeared in the entryway. Nathaniel had inherited a lot from him physically. They shared the same large build and tall height. The strong brow too. Star insisted their blond hair came from him as well, although he had been white-haired and balding for as long as Nathaniel could remember. Hopefully he hadn’t inherited that genetic tendency.

“Good of you to come,” his grandfather said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t think we’d see you again until Christmas.”

“I didn’t want to wait,” Nathaniel said. “You guys are ancient. Who knows if you’ll still be around in December?” His grandmother giggled, sounding like his mother and making him feel homesick. “Granny, Gramps, this is my friend Caesar. Caesar, this is Joe and Laura.”

“Or Granny and Gramps, if you prefer,” Laura said. “Now come to the kitchen. You must be starving!”

“Let them eat in the living room,” Joe said. “They’ll be more comfortable there.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “There’s a game on.”

“I don’t mind,” Nathaniel said. “You’ve already eaten, right?”

“That’s right,” Joe said before his wife could answer.

After declining offers of help, she went into the kitchen while his grandfather led them into a large living room. The house had been designed at a time when stylish walls were plastered with flat misshapen stones. Exposed dark brown beams graced the ceiling. Nathaniel didn’t know when the house was built or what people had been smoking back then, but he found it sort of appealing. The sunken floor and chocolate-colored carpet in the living room gave the room a cozy feel, partly due to the soft glow of the lamps. He plopped down happily on the couch, Caesar doing the same next to him.

His grandfather settled into his favorite chair, one eye on the widescreen television where a poker game was in progress. “So why are you here?” he asked. “Money? On the run from the law?”

“Chasing down my past,” Nathaniel said.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

To impress the guy next to me.
But that would be too awkward a confession. “Homework assignment. Caesar has to write a biography of someone he knows, and since I’m his tutor, we figured that would be easiest.”

“What’s this I hear?” his grandmother asked as she entered the room.

“Nate’s going to be famous,” Joe said. “Caesar is writing a book about him. They’ve already got a six-figure deal with a major publisher.”

“Exactly,” Nathaniel said. “No, it’s just a school paper about where I come from. Figured it was a good excuse to see you guys.”

“Well, be sure to thank your teacher for me.” Laura grabbed two of the TV trays from the corner and set them up. That was another childhood memory, since there was always something on television they wanted to see. Perhaps that’s where his passion for cinematography came from. Regardless, most meals he remembered eating here were served on wooden trays in front of the TV. After refusing another offer of help, she returned first with drinks, then made another trip for two plates of potato salad and fried chicken that had cooled to room temperature.

“So what do you boys have planned?” she asked when finally able to sit.

“I figured we’d wander around town tomorrow,” Nathaniel said. “See what memories I can dig up.”

“I’ll be surprised if you remember anything,” Laura said. “You were so little when your family moved the first time. It nearly broke my heart.”

“We always came back to visit though. This is the closest thing I have to a hometown.”

“It
is
your hometown,” Joe said. “You were practically born here.”

“Does Warrensburg have its own hospital?” Caesar asked.

“Yeah,” Nathaniel said with a chuckle. “It’s not
that
small.”

“Warrensburg has its own university too,” his grandmother said. “Have you decided yet? Is that why you’re really here, to visit the campus?”

His grandfather chuckled. “Careful! She’ll put sugar in your gas tank just to keep you from leaving again.”

“I was accepted into Yale,” Nathaniel said.

“Oh, I see. Well…” She sounded so disappointed that they all laughed.

“Most people would break out the champagne,” Nathaniel teased. “Not look sad.”

Joe twisted around in his chair and smiled. “You boys want a beer?”

“Yeah!” Caesar said.

“No,” Nathaniel said firmly.

More small talk followed, Laura grilling Caesar about who his parents were and what they did for a living. Little details that mattered to adults, for some reason. Bowls of ice cream followed the chicken and potato salad, and as the night wore down, they were shown to their room. Singular. And this time there wasn’t a couch for Nathaniel to crash on unless he returned to the living room, which he wasn’t willing to do. He didn’t even offer to take the floor. If Caesar had any complaints, he’d have to voice them. Nathaniel was setting himself up for a restless night, but he could always nip off to the bathroom for a quick—

“They’re really nice,” Caesar said, sitting on one corner of the bed.

“Yeah.”

“I’m surprised you don’t live with them since… You know.”

“I love my mom,” Nathaniel said quickly. “I never wanted to get away from her. Just my brother.” And his dad, but that was recent.

Caesar waited, maybe thinking they drove all this way just so Nathaniel could tell him everything. But that wasn’t the deal. Nathaniel unpacked his stuff, ignoring the silence. Eventually, Caesar chose to fill it.

“Do they know about you?”

“That I’m gay? Yeah.”

“How’d they take it?”

“Granny had lots of questions. Gramps gets uncomfortable when the subject comes up, but he doesn’t treat me any different. Aside from no longer asking if I have a girlfriend. Why? You thinking of telling your parents?”

“No,” Caesar said. “I just wondered if they think I’m your boyfriend.”

His expression was innocent when Nathaniel turned around. With a hint of mischief. “Keep dreaming,” Nathaniel said, tossing a pair of socks at him.

Caesar caught them and threatened to throw them back. Before he could, there was a knock at the door. His grandmother opened it, but only a crack. “Can I come in?”