Chapter Twelve
The door seemed like it was much further than it was as Kaleb approached it. On the porch, a collection of plants bloomed with life that Eve ran to immediately, sniffing around each one until she had had her fill with the scent. Kaleb patted his thigh, a signal he had taught her to come back when he couldn't speak. She obeyed and immediately came to his side as he paused on the sidewalk.
Glenn's house looked as fresh and primp as the others lining the block with the porch lights turned on well before dusk. In front of the door sat a welcome mat that was rather plain, a brown square with black letters that didn't feel all too enticing. But maybe that was his own internal dialogue reacting.
“Keep it cool,” he whispered as he glanced down at Eve. “And you behave, too. Not that I think you won't.”
He grinned as he knelt down to pet her fur, feeling comforted by the soft coat that he brushed daily. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she turned her snoot to his and he chuckled as she sniffed his nose.
“Ready?” The question was more for him than for her, but he wasn't about to admit that to his dog. “Here it goes.”
After a deep breath, he approached the door and raised his hand to knock. The door opened before he could greet the wood, prompting him to take a step back. Glenn appeared with a weary expression that looked a bit more pale than usual, wearing a paint-spattered shirt. Fresh specks of color decorated his chin, appearing to glow a bit in the light of dusk. He had been hard at work until Kaleb had interrupted.
“Hey,” Kaleb peeped.
“Hi.”
No words came up. It was hard to think of something to say out here in the open where anyone could hear them. Not that it mattered. The neighborhood seemed relatively quiet and unimposing. Kaleb scanned the sidewalk anyway, searching for listening ears. No one was around. He turned back to Glenn and gestured toward the living room. “Well?”
“Right. Come in.”
Glenn stepped aside and allowed them entry, closing the door immediately as soon as they were inside. Kaleb allowed his eyes to wash over every surface, noticing details he hadn't seen before. There were portraits stacked against a table in the hallway with a collection of books underneath. Another table held a medley of easels and wood and other craft supplies including buttons and sewing tools. A larger easel sat in the corner of the living room with a fresh canvas and a portrait, a face that looked all too familiar.
He gaped.
It was his face.
The lustrous colors were dazzling in the bright light of the living room, washing over him as a brush would delicately trace his skin. There were traces of pink and peach on the left side of his painted cheek, the perfect color to highlight his darker browns and blacks on the rest of his face. Deep shadows sat underneath the painted eyes, making those lighter chestnut hues pop with vivacity. His forehead was a mixture of all the colors combined, sort of resembling an Expressionist painting.
The feeling left behind a set of goosebumps that he couldn't shake, swiftly causing his knees to buckle. He braced himself against the wall as Eve yelped, concerned for her owner. Glenn immediately came to his side.
“God, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine.”
“You don't seem fine. Come sit.”
Eve followed them as Glenn carefully guided Kaleb to the couch. It was distressing appearing overwhelmed, especially when Kaleb only wanted to talk. He hadn't planned on getting swept away. This ordeal was troubling as he struggled to reconcile his confused feelings.
“You did it,” he whispered as he sat down. “You painted me.”
“I did.” Glenn walked over to his easel and stood next to his work, eyes dancing over the tarp. “I did everything I said I was going to do.”
“I'm surprised.”
Glenn chuckled. “Why? I love painting. And your face, well...”
“Well?”
Glenn shrugged. “It offered me inspiration.”
“I feel like you're trying to convince me of something.”
“I mean, is it working?”
Now Kaleb laughed. He felt it fill his gut and exerted hard, a little harder than he had intended, for his nerves were shot at this point. The painting was beautiful. The room was nice and clean. Glenn was gorgeous. Kaleb couldn't help studying Glenn's backside. He traced down the dirty shirt and over that exceptional bottom to the legs covered in blue jeans. He knew what they looked like without barriers and he became briefly excited, thinking of all the wonderful things he could do.
Breathless, he pushed the thought aside and finally said, “It's not. You can't win me over that quickly.”
“Oh, then I suppose it must be the heat outside that caused you to swoon.”
“I did not swoon. I stumbled. There's a huge difference.”
Glenn waved nonchalantly. “You're a writer, so you can call it what you want, but I'm a painter and what I witnessed was a swoon.”
“I think I'd know better than anyone being a writer.”
Glenn guffawed. He turned away from his painting with the most jovial look, an admirable one for how tense the situation was. Just as Kaleb felt the anger melting away, he remembered why he came and his features rapidly soured. He looked down at the ground.
Communicate. There was no other way to do it. If he could just get the right words out, maybe he could--
“I'm sorry,” Glenn stated.
Kaleb raised his gaze and met Glenn's tearfully. “I know.”
“I didn't know. I mean...” He clasped his hands together and shrugged, appearing defeated by everything. The painting looked strikingly cheery compared to his regretful stance. It made Kaleb swallow hard. “Listen, this is hard for me to say. I hate it.”
“Just say it.”
Glenn shrugged again as if it were the answer.
“Come on, Glenn. You can tell me,” Kaleb insisted.
Glenn crossed the room and took the seat next to Kaleb. It resembled their positions from the previous night, prompting Kaleb to extend his arm to hug Glenn. He stopped, resting his arm on the back of the couch instead.
“I'm losing hearing in my left ear,” Glenn spoke. “And it's been causing a lot of problems in my day-to-day life. A lot.”
Kaleb sunk into the cushions. “Really? That's all?”
Glenn stared. His eyes widened slightly as he licked his lips. “That's...pretty much all. Yes.”
“So, you weren't laughing because of what I said?”
“I didn't exactly hear what you said, actually. My default is to laugh or make a facial expression as if I've heard something. It's like autopilot.”
Kaleb laughed. “That's a terrible way to handle talking.”
Glenn looked hurt. His eyes fell to his thumbs that were twiddling together as his shoulders hunched forward. Instantly, Kaleb felt the regret of what he said. He relaxed his arm over Glenn's shoulders.
“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”
“No, please, don't be sorry. It's my fault. I should have said something earlier.” Glenn rose from the couch and returned to his painting, sitting on the stool positioned in front of the easel. He lifted a brush, licked the bristles, and dipped it into a maroon color. As he pressed bristles to tarp, he continued, “And I really don't want you to think that this defeats me. It doesn't. It just makes me stronger.”
“I don't doubt it.”
“And I didn't wear my hearing aid because I hadn't gotten it yet and when I did, we had just met. I didn't want you thinking I was some kind of disabled creature that required your pity.”
“How could I think such a thing?”
His hand flew over the canvas, taking up every bit of space available. He darkened the shadows under the eyes of the painting with the maroon, passionate color spattering all over the place. “I don't know that. I don't really know you so I can't really say. I'm embarrassed.”
“There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You don't have to present yourself as more able-bodied than you are. That's not something I worry about.”
“So, you wouldn't have thought twice about my earpiece?”
Kaleb lifted himself from the cushions and approached the wistful painting working ceaselessly on his colors. His ardent love for painting was highly evident, reflected in every valiant stroke and each careful consideration. Even the tiny details stood out as menial as they might have seemed to anyone else. But to Glenn, this was his life.
“You're amazing.” It came out before Kaleb could stop it; before he could contemplate it. His favor was already won, and he didn't want to stop it. Not at all. “I admire you a great deal. The fact that you've survived this long with it is a testament.”
“But it made me hurt you. It was a mistake and I'm sorry.”
“I'm glad you told me.”
Glenn stopped. His brush sat on the corner of the canvas, ready to fill in the rest of the white space. As he turned, a blond lock fell over his left eye that Kaleb instinctively pushed away. He cupped Glenn's face.
“I was hurt after my partner died. I fell into a deep depression because I thought I'd never meet anyone who ever sparked such passion in me like he did. There would be no one like Marty,” he explained, lovingly stroking Glenn's cheek. “And part of me was right. I haven't met anybody like Marty in over a year.”
“I'm so sorry I misheard you. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I'm sorry I laughed at such a horrible thing.” Glenn's eyes were filling with tears as he bit his lower lip. “I would never in a million years do such a...”
A hiccup stole his words. Sorrowfully, he bowed into Kaleb and hid his face, soaking Kaleb's shirt with contrition. He whispered it over and over, his apology and his regret. It activated Kaleb to comfort him, rubbing his back repeatedly as he cried.
“I forgive you,” Kaleb whispered.
“Are you sure? I'd understand if you didn't.”
Kaleb pulled away, bringing Glenn's red-rimmed eyes into view. “I mean it. I promise. Mistakes happen, and we can fix them.”
“We?”
Smiling, he nodded. “You think I came over here just to yell at you?”
“I mean, yeah.”
Kaleb stroked Glenn's face, allowing his own tears to fall unabashedly down his face. There was a spark in his stomach, the same familiar jolt that had initiated when he first got within touching distance of Glenn. It was still there. And he was happy for it.
“I'm not that kind of person anymore,” he claimed.
“I'm pretty relieved considering I don't handle yelling very well.”
“You did well to tell me what happened, and I'll admit I'm not the best communicator. I need to learn.”
Glenn nodded. “It's not easy. Not by any means.”
“No, it's not but...” Kaleb leaned forward and kissed Glenn's lips. “I think we can learn together.”
A smile lingered on Glenn's lips as Kaleb continued to hold his face. Kaleb felt the zap of electricity zoom through his body, taking over every portion of him with warmth. Glenn wrapped his arms around Kaleb's shoulders and embraced Kaleb, dropping his brush to the carpet. He disregarded it as he decorated Kaleb's face with joyful kisses, becoming lost in their grasp.
Kaleb didn't want to pull away. As awkward as his position was in front of the chair, he didn't want to let go of Glenn. It was like finding an old favorite teddy bear that he wanted to hug forever or being reunited with a lost friend. He pulled Glenn from the chair and clasped him tightly, panting between kisses.
Every part of their bodies touched, and he didn't want it to end. The stool fell over and knocked into the table of paints, jostling some of the cups over. He pulled Glenn to the couch and laid him down carefully, straddling his lap and inclined for more pecks. Glenn shivered feverishly, running his hands over Kaleb's back and clinging to the fabric of his shirt.
Kaleb stayed hooked, feeling his jeans grow taut. He glanced down for a moment to acknowledge his arousal and looked back at Glenn with a smirk.
“There's another way we can make up,” he teased.
“Meet me in the bedroom?”
Kaleb rose and fixed his shirt, keeping the playful smirk on his lips. “Yes, please.”