If
By Chance
By
Nickolas James
Chapter
Fourteen
“He looks so peaceful,” my mom said through her tears,
looking down into the casket that we were standing in front of. She was right
too, he did look peaceful. I couldn’t get over it, though, and as peaceful as
he looked, I was inconsolable. Behind me was my father, massaging my left
shoulder, trying to help me summon the strength I needed to face this moment.
It was a moment I still couldn’t reconcile in my mind. How
did it happen so abruptly? Why Gerald? Why not me? He didn’t deserve it.
In a pew at the front of the chapel were two total
strangers, but I knew exactly who they were. I’d seen them so many times before
in the photo albums that Gerald shed so many tears
over in the past. They were the offenders, in my opinion, but how could I feel
anything but pity and remorse for them right now? Surely there was regret
coursing through their veins; there had to be.
I slowly turned my attention back to the love of my life,
realizing that this was it. I’d never see him again after today. The only thing
left would be the memories we’d built in the months that we lived together.
Nothing was going to matter now. I took a deep breath and let out a loud sob,
and all my mom and dad could do was cry with me and try to support me. Just
when I thought I was going to collapse from the pressure and the sorrow in my
soul, a man’s voice carried into my ears, and I knew right away that it was
Gerald’s dad.
“Gerald’s in a better place
now,” he said in a voice so soothing that I had to turn and give him my full
attention. “He’s with The Lord in heaven, and we’ll see him again. When we do,
it’ll be a glorious reunion. We’ll all be able to drink coffee and listen to AM
talk radio together.”
My eyes shot open and I sat straight up with a gasp. I
looked to my left, where Gerald was sleeping peacefully, and let out a sigh of
relief. I brought my right hand to my forehead and wiped away the perspiration
that was building, then I took a deep breath and tried
to relax. It was hard, though, after the close call we had earlier that day.
I carefully lowered myself back down onto my pillow and
stared at the ceiling, letting my mind drift back to a different time in my
life. A time when I was working as the controller of a major
company, one of the largest employers in our region. A time when office
flings were no big deal, when my mentality was hit it and quit it. I let my
gaze travel to Gerald’s sleeping form and wondered how in the hell he managed
to change my life. What was it about the two of us that clicked and made things
work the way they did? It was something fragile, I knew, something that was
still developing, still growing.
But there was a secret between us, and I didn't like that.
Something about the way Gerald shifted in his seat when I brought up the letter
Peter sent him. Something about the tension I picked up on from my boyfriend when
ever Peter’s name was brought up. All I wanted him to do was open up to me and
let me know what it was. I felt like there was nothing he could tell me that would
jeopardize what we had, but for some reason, Gerald didn't seem to feel the
same way.
Out of nowhere, he rolled over into my side, and I
instinctively wrapped my arms around his torso, running my hands up and down
his back, letting my fingertips trace along his spine, tracing the outer edges
of each vertebrae as they made their journey downward, then back up again.
Eventually, I let the thoughts of Peter and everything else slip my mind, and I
eased into a more restful slumber.
For the next two days, I made a point of not bringing the
letter up at all. In fact, I was determined that it wasn’t going to be a factor
in my relationship with my boyfriend. Instead, I buried myself in the task of
cleaning out the gutters on the roof of my house, then rearranging the garage
while Gerald got his work done. At the end of each day, he’d bundle up and come
outside to admire my work with me.
I never told him about my
nightmare. As much as I wanted to, I felt like there was nothing constructive
that would come of it. All it would do at the very least was remind
us of the moron who slid through the intersection at a rate of speed faster
than the posted speed limit, just missing the front end of my car. At worst, it
would make Gerald think about his mom and dad. I hated seeing him suffer that
way, especially for two people who hadn’t even called to see how he was. It was
Gerald who had to make the effort to call home on Thanksgiving. In fact, he was
always the one to call. I was dumbfounded that his own parents weren’t willing
to reach out to their son. So, taking all of that into consideration, I just
decided to put it out of my head and move forward, thankful that it was only a
nightmare.
“
“Enjoy the warm weather, for one,” my dad said. “I really
wish you and Gerald would at least consider making the trip with us.”
If there was one thing I was definitely not going to
consider, it was being on a plane with my mom and dad for any length of time. I
could just picture the multitude of possibilities that existed for them to make
a huge scene on the flight, and I wasn’t about to play a part in their chaos.
Besides, I didn't think Gerald would be interested in spending the holidays in
“Well, we don’t have to go to
“Mom, go to
“Well make sure you get a tree,” she said. “Your father and
I have a gift for the two of you.”
“We do?” my dad asked, sounding bewildered, and my mom
responded with an elbow to his ribs that looked painful.
“Of course we do,” my mom said. “Give it to him, Dan.”
With that, my dad fished his checkbook out and I rolled my
eyes while I let out a loud sigh.
“Mom, dad, you don’t have to do that,” I said. “I’m 36, for
God’s sake. I don’t need money.”
“It’s a present, honey,” my mom argued. “Just take it and be
sure to split it with Gerald.”
When my dad was finished writing the check, he handed it to
my mom for final approval, and as soon as she nodded, he took it back from her
and handed it to me. I gawked when I saw the dollar amount, but my dad was
quick to the punch before I could protest.
“Just take it son,” my dad said. “It’s just a little
something. You know if you need more you can always come to us.”
“Dad, this is too much,” I started, but my mom cut me off.
“Nonsense,” she barked. “We’ll be the judge of what’s too much.
You and Gerald just enjoy spending it.”
“I love you guys,” I told them, holding an arm out for each
one of them as I moved toward them for a hug.
“I love you too, bud,” my dad said in my ear. “Your mother
and I are going to miss you this Christmas, but we’ll call, okay?”
“Okay, dad,” I said.
“I might take Gerald out of town for Christmas.”
“Well the invitation’s still open to come to
“I will mom,” I promised her, then
I planted a kiss on her cheek before we broke the hug. “I’ll talk to Gerald
about it, but I think he might want to go North if we
go anywhere this year.”
“Home?” my mom asked
inquisitively, and I shook my head, knowing for sure that home wasn’t the
answer. Because according to Gerald, he didn't have a home to go back to.
One of the bright spots about the interstate system in our
area is the use of the HOV system for people who carpool. Another nice thing is
the shoulder lane, which helps to alleviate traffic congestion in the morning.
When I commuted to work, I almost always drove along the shoulder to my exit.
On the way home, the shoulder was closed to all traffic, but there were always
a large number of people who broke the rule and drove along the shoulder
anyway. In fact, the number of people who use the shoulder when it’s closed is
so great that the state troopers are almost powerless to stop the practice.
There just aren’t enough troopers on patrol to stop everyone, so they seem to
ignore the lawbreaking drivers in the evening commute.
Among those who love to ride the shoulder, even when it’s
closed, is Gerald Ballard. In fact, it seems, he has an affinity for breaking
as many traffic laws as he can get away with breaking as he travels from place
to place. I’m sure he doesn’t do it for a thrill, but there are times when I
have to wonder why he doesn’t just do things the right way. He basically scares
the living crap out of me when we’re in his car, so I try to drive as often as
possible.
Lately, though, my subtle hints haven’t been doing the
trick. I’ll say things to him like, “Let’s just take my car, it gets better gas
mileage,” or, I’ll offer, “My car’s in the driveway and yours is in the
garage….I’ll drive.” In the last few days, he’s rebuffed all of my offers and
insisted on taking his car when we go somewhere. I have to admit that his
Nissan 350Z is more fun to ride in, but when fun turns into danger, I stop
having a good time.
One time I thought for sure we were going to have a wreck. As
soon as we were out of the neighborhood, he swerved in and out of lanes,
popping his clutch, cutting people off and being impatient with slower drivers.
But luckily, as soon as we got on the interstate, traffic was so slow that he
had no choice but to keep it under forty, which is probably as fast as he’s
qualified to drive.
I was positive that we’d be riding in my car when I
announced that we needed to drive to the store for a few things. His car was in
the garage and mine was parked right in the center of the driveway, making it
even less likely that he’d be able to pull his car out unless I moved for him.
I figured that it was such a hassle, he’d surely agree
to let me drive. That’s why I never gave
it a second thought as I casually went to our room to grab my checkbook. I
heard the garage door open, and I chuckled a little to myself that he was just
then realizing that he was trapped in the garage.
Then I heard his engine roar, and my heart sank. I hurriedly
moved back down the stairs and to the living room window, pulling the drapes
back just in time to see him maneuvering his 350Z around my car, giving the
motor a loud rev as I fretted about the prospects of taking a ride with him.
“Where are we going to put the groceries?” I asked as we
pulled out of the driveway.
“There’s room for them,” he said sweetly, as if it were
nothing.
“You know, we could have just taken my car,” I reminded him,
prompting him to playfully engage the clutch and give the engine a loud rev.
“Relax, babe,” he encouraged me. “I haven’t had a wreck or a ticket yet, have I?”
“I guess not,” I conceded.
“We’ll be fine,” he assured me.
Somehow, we managed to make it to the store in one
collective piece. When we were there, I was careful not to stock up on too
much, especially because of Gerald’s two-seater. I grabbed enough vegetables
for a couple of dinners, a loaf of artisan bread, some oatmeal and a bunch of
bananas. We happened by the seafood case, and wound up with a pound of fresh
Ocean Perch before we got out of the market.
For all of Gerald’s driving faults, he has one redeeming
quality that I admire; he refuses to answer his cell while he’s operating a
motor vehicle. Add to that the fact that he leaves his cell phone in his car
when we go places, all of his vehicular sins seem to cancel out. I happened to
notice that he had a missed call when we got back in his car to go home, but
that was nothing new. Gerald noticed it too, but made no move to even pick his
phone up. Instead, we proceeded home recklessly.
I groaned a little when we pulled into the driveway and
Gerald haphazardly swung around my car, into the garage. At the very least, I
figured, he missed hitting it, so I didn't have too much to complain about. As
soon as he parked, he pulled his parking brake up and made sure the car was in
neutral by working the shifter back and forth, then he
cut the car off.
I got out and grabbed the bags as he picked his phone up and
looked at the number. I heard him sigh and watched as his eyes closed for a
brief moment, then he smiled weakly at me.
“It’s my mom,” he said. “I’m gonna call her back before I
come in.”
“Okay sweetie,” I said, gently closing the car door and
taking the stuff inside. I put everything up, threw the bags away, then I
sanitized the counter tops. I have a real problem with the idea that the bags
from the grocery store are fit to rest on my counters after they’ve been
exposed to the bottom of a grocery cart that’s almost certainly spent a
significant amount of time in the elements, not to mention the children that
ride in them as their parents push them through the store. There has to be some
risk of germs that we don’t know about, so I take care to use Clorox wipes on
my counter tops every time I go shopping. I had no proof of it, but I always
just choose to believe that Gerald sanitized, too.
Once I got everything put away, I decided to start dinner. I
wasn’t sure what Gerald wanted to do with the Perch, but I wanted to barbeque
it. I took several lemons out and rinsed them off before I cut them up, then I
put the fish in a glass Pyrex pan to season it. Once I had it seasoned, I
covered it with foil and put it in the fridge while I went out onto the deck
and fired up the grill. I was sure to scrape the grill clean, then I lit the flame and set it to high, hoping to burn away
all germs that might be residing on my barbeque.
When I got back inside, Gerald was sitting at the table with
a dejected look on his face. It was the same look he had the last time he spoke
with his mom and dad, and I knew things hadn’t gone so well over the phone.
“What’s wrong, babe?” I asked, taking the chair next to him
and wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“My mom and dad are out to ruin my day,” he said with a sad
sigh. “I had to hear the usual crap
about not caring about them, then they told me that
they wanted the money they gave me for college back.”
I wanted to say something rude about his mom and dad, but I
knew better. I wouldn’t like it very much if someone talked my parents down, no
matter the situation. It wouldn’t be very fair of me to expect Gerald to like
it, either. Instead, I ran my fingers through his hair and nuzzled my cheek up
against his, then I gave him a kiss on the lips. Not a
French kiss, just a kiss on the lips. One to let him know that I loved him more
than anything, and that I’d always be there for him.
After dinner, we snuggled on the couch under a blanket and
watched a movie on Lifetime. I know, it’s not exactly the place for compelling
TV, but there’s a healing factor in most of the movies that Lifetime airs, and
Gerald needed that. In a way, so did I, but I needed it for him. When the movie
was over, we got up and held onto each other, still sharing the blanket, as we
moved up the stairs to our bed.
Making love to my Gerald is still something I consider a
privilege. True, I could get sex from him anytime I want it, but I never take
advantage of that. I never make love to his body unless it’s something he asks
for. I think that’s the thing that makes it so special between us. I see
couples that casually talk about their love life as if it’s routine, and I
never want that for Gerald and I. He’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,
and his body is a temple that I enter only when I know that it’s time to
worship at his alter.
That night, he opened his temple for me, and I was sure to
bring him my finest offering. I didn't take his love for granted as I reveled
in the perfection that was his mind, body and spirit. As I partook in the life
sustaining energy of his love, my head spun and my eyes rolled back in my head.
It seemed like only seconds, but one look at the clock that glowed in the
darkness told me that it had been nearly an hour that he was calling out my
name and eagerly accepting my full length.
When we stopped, he slept soundly and I found myself awash
in feelings of love so powerful that they left me shaken. Not because I was
intimidated, or worried. Instead, it was because at that moment, in my bed,
lying next to Gerald Ballard, I realized for the first time that the answer to
all of my questions was right in front of me. That the realization of the
dreams I never even knew I had was just a motion away. I knew that all I needed
was for Gerald to take my hand, and we could fly.
I carefully slid my right arm under his back and pulled him
into me. He rolled over quietly and cuddled up to my side, resting his head on
my shoulder as I tousled his hair.
“I love you Gerald,” I told him.
“I love you too, Dennis,” he said, his voice cracking with
emotion. “I want us to stay like this forever.”
“We can, sweetie,” I said softly. “You and I can just stay
like this for the rest of our lives.”
I heard him let out a long, contented sigh, and I knew that
this was my moment.
“Gerald, will you go to