Chapter Eighteen
The knock on the door came right on time, and Trevor pulled it open with a smile.
“Ready?” Jesse asked, and Trevor stood back to let him in, leading him into the living room where his luggage was stacked, his jacket draped over the back of the couch.
“Yes. Let me do a last check, make sure I didn’t forget anything, and then we can get going.”
Jesse nodded, and Trevor hurried off to his room, doing a quick scan of his dresser top, the counters in his bathroom, running his fingers over his wrist and the band of Riley’s watch for the umpteenth time. He hardly ever took it off anyway, but—
“Okay, got it all,” he said, making his way over to where Jesse was waiting, taken aback when Jesse jumped a mile. “Whoa, sorry to sneak up on you.”
Jesse looked at him, his lips quirked up ruefully. “You didn’t. I was just thinking how quiet it was in here, and when your voice sounded so loud, it startled me.” He grunted. “Not like you were shouting, it’s just—I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know what you mean.” Trevor slung the strap of his carry-on bag over his shoulder. “The silence is almost tangible sometimes, like I can reach out and touch it.”
Jesse nodded, reaching for Trevor’s big suitcase. “I can imagine it’s hard on you.”
Picking up his jacket, Trevor led the way to the front door. “It’s the main reason I haven’t been able to go in Riley’s room. Seeing his things would hurt, of course, but it’s the fact that it’s so quiet, so empty.” He stopped, feeling Jesse’s warmth at his shoulder. “When I picture Riley’s room, I picture him in it. Listening to music, talking on the phone, doing his homework...”
“After he died,” Jesse said, “I had a hard time sleeping. He had the rack above me, and I was used to hearing the creak when he’d roll over. He never really snored, but when he was super tired, sometimes he’d mutter this sort of nonsense in his sleep.”
Trevor stroked the watch band. “He did that when he was a kid, too.”
“There were other guys all around me, but it was too quiet to sleep. Because he wasn’t there.”
Trevor turned to face him, and their eyes locked, understanding arcing between them. “Then you get it, Jess, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
Jesse reached around Trevor to open the door for him, leaning close, the fresh, citrusy smell of his aftershave tickling Trevor’s nose. A black SUV was idling in the driveway, and as they walked toward it, Trevor caught a glimpse of bright blond hair behind the wheel.
He pulled open the back passenger door as Jesse popped the hatchback and loaded his suitcase in.
“Hi, I’m Trevor,” he said, reaching out to shake the slim hand the driver turned to offer him.
“Karen. Nice to meet you.”
“Thanks for the ride, Karen.”
“My pleasure.”
“Best boss ever.” Jesse piled into the front passenger seat and grinned at Karen, who reached out and flicked him on the nose.
“No need to kiss my ass anymore,” she said drily. “I already gave you the time off.”
Trevor chuckled as Karen reversed out of the driveway and headed in the direction of the airport. “And I really appreciate you letting me borrow him for a couple of weeks.”
“It’s a hardship, I’ll grant you that. ‘Where’s Jesse?’ ‘When will he be back?’” she whined in a high-pitched tone. “My business will suffer because Colorado Springs’ favorite bartender isn’t on duty.”
Trevor was delighted to see the tinge of red on Jesse’s cheeks in the side mirror. He reached over the seat and pushed on his shoulder. “Popular, is he?”
“Very.” Karen glanced at Jesse. “That Brandon guy was in looking for you again last night.”
“Not interested,” Jesse said flatly. “He blew it.”
“No second chances, huh?”
Jesse shook his head. “Nope.”
“Well, between him and all the disappointed ladies I’ll have to deal with, I expect a damn nice souvenir from Hawaii. Just so you know.”
“You got it.” Jesse reached to tug on the curl hanging over her shoulder, and she winked at him.
It wasn’t long until they pulled up to the departure curb, and Jesse leaned over to kiss Karen’s cheek before getting out of the SUV to unload their bags.
“Thanks again, Karen,” Trevor started to say, and Karen turned in her seat, her eyes solemn.
“You’re welcome. From one Gold Star family to another.”
Trevor blinked. “Oh. You lost someone over there, too?”
“My twin brother. Iraq, 2003. He was a Marine, killed by an IED.”
“Karen, I—shit, I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Trevor. But real quick, I just wanted to ask you, have you ever heard of TAPS?”
Trevor nodded. “Yes. There was a brochure in the paperwork my casualty assistance officer gave me, but I never called them.”
“You should.” Karen reached over the seat to hand him a card. “They do good work. When you get back, I’ll be happy to go to a support group with you. The first meeting is always the hardest.”
Trevor glanced at the card in his hand. Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors. Caring for the families of our fallen heroes. There was a website listed, along with various numbers, including a hotline.
“There’s a local chapter, and it’s very active. In fact, that’s where I met Jesse.”
Surprised, Trevor glanced at Jesse waiting patiently on the curb. “Really?”
“Yep. There are support groups for battle buddies as well as family members.” Karen paused. “A lot of Kellan’s teammates are involved. My brother’s,” she clarified. “Combat relationships can be as intense as romances, Trevor. Those guys would all die for each other, and when they lose someone...it hurts.”
Just then a car waiting behind them beeped its horn.
“Okay, go,” Karen urged him. “If you ever wanna talk more about TAPS, just call me. My number’s on the back of the card.”
Trevor thanked her and hastily got out of the SUV, both he and Jesse waving goodbye to her before they grabbed their bags and headed inside the airport. Their commuter flight to Denver was short and sweet, the connecting flight to Los Angeles uneventful, and before Trevor knew it, they were taking off in a wide-bodied jet bound for Honolulu.
“Why did you pick Hawaii for leave?” Trevor asked when they leveled off. “You didn’t have any other family to visit?”
Jesse shook his head. “No. My parents were only children, and they weren’t close to any of their distant family.” He hesitated. “They actually met in a residential school for hearing-impaired children.”
“What, like a boarding school?”
“Yeah. They were sent there when they were six or seven, something like that. Started dating when they were teenagers and got married right after graduation. They’d been told they couldn’t have kids, and I was the ultimate late-in-life oops baby.” Jesse chuckled.
“So they were both Deaf?”
“Yes. Both poor, from rural Georgia, sent to a state-run school to learn sign and lip-reading. It was the best thing that ever happened to them.”
Trevor was fascinated. “Really? That young, being sent to live away from home?”
“If you think about it, yeah. Learning to communicate, making friends. Being Deaf is isolating when you’re surrounded by hearing people, when you’re considered ‘deaf and dumb’ or ‘a mute,’ which they were in those days.” He grimaced. “A lot of people have this misconception that being Deaf equals mentally challenged. You’d be surprised at the stuff people’d say to me when I was out somewhere with them.”
“So did you, like, translate for them?”
“I learned to sign before I could talk,” Jesse said simply. “And yeah, sometimes. I was the one who went with them to doctors’ appointments, that kind of stuff. Nowadays they’re starting to make texting apps for the hearing-impaired, but back when I was a kid...”
The flight attendant stopped to ask if they wanted anything. Trevor declined but Jesse asked for a Coke, accepting a few packets of pretzels the woman handed him with a murmured thank you.
“Were you close to them?”
“Oh, yeah, I adored them.” He paused, toying with the packets on his tray table, making them crinkle. “Looking back, though, it was kind of lonely at times. I had friends, but my parents would sometimes make their parents uncomfortable. It was weird for adults to communicate with each other through a little kid.”
Trevor thought about that, about a young Jesse sitting in a doctor’s office translating personal, private matters between adults. “Couldn’t they have, I don’t know, written stuff down on a piece of paper?”
“That’s another thing. When someone is born Deaf or loses their hearing in infancy, they don’t have a basis for the nuances of language, so even their written stuff was sometimes hard to understand. It was easier for me to translate for them.”
Trevor stared at Jesse’s hands, picturing them moving in the shape of sign language like they had that day of the baseball game, imagining him bridging the gap between his parents’ world and his own.
“Riley was curious about it, too,” Jesse said softly, and Trevor flushed when he realized he was watching him. “Asked me what his name was in sign.”
“What is it?” Trevor whispered, drinking in the sight of Jesse’s right hand flashing Riley’s name, the movement too fast for Trevor to comprehend. “Again.”
This time Jesse did it slower, so Trevor could see each individual letter. He smiled, and Jesse signed a different combination.
“That’s yours,” he said softly, and the flush on his face made Trevor feel warm inside.
“Like I’ve said before, you’re amazing.”
“Well, I didn’t know any different,” he mumbled. “To me that was a normal childhood, and it was a happy one, even if it was a little lonely sometimes.” He blew out a quiet breath. “My dad died of a heart attack when I was sixteen, and my mom of one two years later.”
Trevor squeezed his arm in sympathy but didn’t say anything, and when the flight attendant brought Jesse his Coke, Trevor let his hand fall away. Jesse sipped his drink for a moment. “What about your family?”
Trevor settled back in his seat. “I never knew my parents,” he said. “They were both killed in a car accident when I was a baby. My maternal aunt and uncle raised me. Best people I’ve ever known. Supportive and loving, even when I came out to them as gay at sixteen and then got a girl pregnant at seventeen.”
Jesse choked on his soda, coughing as it went down the wrong way. “Wow,” he croaked, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “Yeah, I can’t even imagine my parents’ reaction to either one of those things. I think sometimes they didn’t know what to make of me. I was a surprise baby, and a hearing one. Definitely turned their lives upside down.”
“I was a selfish little shit,” Trevor admitted. “All about the good time, feeling bulletproof. Having Riley made me grow up real fast.” He shook his head. “Thank God for Marilyn and Frank. Without them, well, I don’t know how things would’ve turned out.”
They sat in silence for a moment, until Jesse said, “I picked Hawaii because it was somewhere I’d always wanted to go. Being able to go with my best friend, well—”
Trevor turned to face him. “I’m glad you got to go, Jess, and that they’re happy memories. Truly.” He bit his lip. “I just want to share your memories, if that’s okay, since I won’t ever get to make any of my own with him.”
Jesse looked directly at him, and Trevor was struck again by how beautiful his eyes were, a vivid blue-green framed by thick black lashes. “I’ll share anything you need me to. This trip is for you.”
Trevor felt a rush of affection for him so strong his mouth went dry. “You’re the best,” he managed to say. “Thank you.”
Jesse quirked his lips before leaning back in his seat. He pulled his iPod from his pocket and slipped the earbuds in, linking his hands over his flat stomach and tuning everything out. Trevor fished a book from his carry-on bag but held it unread on his lap, preferring to watch Jesse doze instead.
The hum of the plane was a soothing background noise as Trevor drifted, picturing two young men, exhausted and ragged from war, sitting side by side in cramped airline seats. Did they sleep? Did they talk? On the flight from Denver to LA, Jesse’d told him about the USO reception at the Dallas airport...volunteers lined up at the gate to greet them with applause and hugs.
Trevor wondered who’d hugged Riley, if they’d squeezed him extra tight. He remembered their own hug goodbye on the parade field at Fort Carson. What if Trevor’d known then it would be the last time he’d ever see him, touch him...
The fucking tears welled up, and Trevor slid his hand over to Jesse’s tray table to filch his napkin, wiping his eyes on the tiny square. Jesse never looked at him, or said anything, but he shifted just a little bit closer to Trevor so that their shoulders were touching, and Trevor leaned against his warmth as the plane flew on.
* * *
They landed in Honolulu without fanfare. Trevor was amused to notice there weren’t any hula girls slipping leis over every passenger’s head as they deplaned, like in the movies—it was just a typical airport scene with scores of weary passengers trudging their way to baggage claim.
As they passed the usual collection of newsstands and shops just outside the gate, Jesse gestured to a small kiosk selling colorful leis, some made out of real flowers along with a collection of cheaper rainbow-colored fabric ones. “When Riley saw that, he said, ‘Shit, I was hoping to get lei’d by a beautiful girl! Guess we’ll have to lei ourselves.’ And he walked over and bought two.”
Trevor snorted, pulling out his wallet. “Well, by all means, let’s get lei’d.” He laughed out loud when Jesse shot him an incredulous look. “C’mon, Jess, do you think I’m too old to enjoy a good double entendre?”
Jesse shook his head, mumbling something, and Trevor bought two purple-and-white real flower leis that smelled amazing. Jesse bent down so Trevor could slip one over his head before returning the favor.
Trevor couldn’t resist. “A real pleasure getting lei’d by you,” he said wickedly, enjoying Jesse’s embarrassment, thinking how much fun he was to tease. Or flirt with. He grimaced to himself. Careful there, Trev. Old guy flirting with the hot, young one? Don’t look now, but you’re kinda pathetic.
They ambled their way to baggage claim, joining the throngs of people eager to get their vacations started. Next, a stop at the car rental counter, and soon they were sitting in a hellacious traffic gridlock leading into downtown Waikiki.
“This is one thing they don’t show you in the travel brochures,” Jesse grumbled from the driver’s seat as they inched along Nimitz Highway. Trevor propped his arm on the doorsill and gazed with fascination at the scenery, mostly industrial in this area along with a few glimpses of gleaming skyscrapers in the distance as the road curved and flowed.
Trevor took a deep breath of the fresh sea air, feeling relaxed despite the annoying traffic.
“How did you end up in the Army?” he asked.
Jesse glanced at him. “After my mom passed away, I was sort of, I don’t know, directionless. It was something we’d never really talked about, me growing up and going out on my own.” He gave a sort of half-shrug. “I wouldn’t have left my mom alone after my dad died anyway, and then suddenly she was gone, too.”
A wave of sympathy moved through Trevor. “And you were only eighteen, you said?”
“Yeah, I’d just graduated high school. A friend of my parents helped me get their affairs in order. There was a small amount of life insurance, enough to bury her with, and of course I inherited the house.”
“A lot to deal with on top of everything else. That’s rough.”
“I had everything packed up and put in storage, an out-of-sight, out-of-mind thing till I was ready to go through it, and John, my parents’ friend, helped me sell the house. I had enough after that to live on for a while but not enough to pay for four years of college or anything.”
Trevor gaped at a hulking cruise ship as they passed by one of the harbor piers, awed by its sheer size. “Wow, look at that,” he exclaimed, diverted. “Have you ever been on a cruise?”
“No. Have you?”
“That was supposed to be my honeymoon, actually. A two-week cruise through the Caribbean.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jesse wince. “And I, uh, heard through some mutual friends the other day that Carl is already dating someone else.”
Jesse whipped his head toward him. “Seriously?” he burst out, his tone indignant. “What an asshole.”
“He’s not. Jesse, he’s not,” Trevor said when Jesse gave an incredulous snort. “What I’m going through is a lot for anyone to handle. It’s not like he just abandoned me.”
“Yeah. Uh-huh.”
Trevor wasn’t sure whether to be touched or annoyed at Jesse’s attitude. He settled for saying mildly, “Nothing’s black and white here, okay? All I want is for him to be happy, and apparently that’s not gonna be with me.”
“But to move on like that, so fast.” Jesse gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “It seems really disrespectful.”
“But it wasn’t fast. The man Carl knew and fell in love with died the moment those uniformed men showed up at the door. That Trevor’s gone forever, and for almost an entire year Carl stuck by the new one until he realized he couldn’t do it anymore. He tried, he really did.”
Trevor could see by the set of Jesse’s lips that he wasn’t convinced, and he wondered if he’d ever been in a serious relationship before. The thought made Trevor feel jaded, ancient, and he heaved a quiet sigh. “I don’t have anything left to fight with, so it’s better for both of us if I just let him go. Maybe he can find some happiness, at least.”
“I thought you loved each other.” Jesse’s voice held a trace of bewilderment, and Trevor gave a helpless gesture.
“We did—we do—aww, shit.” Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I know you think I’m some punk who doesn’t understand,” Jesse went on tersely, “but I can tell you right now, I’d never turn my back on my man, especially when he needs me. I happen to believe in for better or for worse.”
“Love and relationships aren’t always black and white, Jess. That’s all I can say.”
Jesse was silent as he focused on navigating through the next green light. “This isn’t any of my business,” he said at last. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, let me put it like this. You and Carl are very, very different people. For all his sophistication, in a lot of ways you have decades more life experience than he does. Of course you’re going to handle things differently.”
Jesse nodded, the tight set of his jaw relaxing a fraction.
“And for the record, I don’t think you’re some ‘punk,’” Trevor said, complete with air quotes. “Not in a million years.”
“Good.”
Trevor changed the subject. “So back to the Army...you inherited some money. Then what?”
“Well, I got an apartment with some friends, a part-time job, and drifted along for a while.” Jesse paused. “Then 9/11 happened.”
“You enlisted because of 9/11?”
Jesse shook his head. “Nah, but a couple of my friends did. After they left for boot camp, we’d IM each other on AOL sometimes, and they’d tell me about their training, their units and what they were doing. Even though they bitched and moaned about Army life, I could see—”
“See what?”
“That they were useful,” Jesse said simply. “Trevor, all my life I’d been needed. Now I was alone, accomplishing nothing, drinking away my inheritance, and all I wanted was to feel useful again. It took a while, but eventually I enlisted, too.”
Trevor waited for him to go on and when he didn’t, said gently, “Thank you for your service, Jesse.”
Jesse gave a flat sort of chuckle. “I never know what to say to that. You’re...welcome? For doing my job, what I volunteered to do? If only Americans knew most of us weren’t fighting for them.”
“What were you fighting for?”
Jesse looked at him. “Each other. You’re fighting for the guy next to you. For your squad, for your platoon.” He faced forward again as the light turned green. “America isn’t at war, Trevor—her military is.”
Trevor studied his rigid profile, thinking, You’re a wounded soldier, too, aren’t you, Jess? It just doesn’t show on the outside.
It wasn’t much, but Trevor shifted a little closer to him, leaning in so Jesse could feel his presence. Jesse didn’t respond, just rewarded Trevor with a smile, a mere quirk of his lips, but one that still made Trevor feel a tiny bit quivery inside.