Chapter Ten

Cam walked out to the car he had called and gave the driver directions to his home. Then he sat back in the car and let his mind wander back over the last seven days. He was shocked at how much he missed Jean-Paul, and they had only said goodbye three hours ago. It had been an oddly painful goodbye, because he had wanted so desperately to kiss the man who had become more than a friend while he had been there. He had a lover now, something he had given up hope of ever having. Someone to call his, though neither of them had said the words.

After the sex marathon on Thursday night, which had seen both of them only managing to get four hours of sleep before they had to be up to go back to work that Friday, they hadn’t had sex again. Instead, Jean-Paul seemed to withdraw, not as completely as he had been before, but enough so Cam hadn’t felt comfortable pushing him. Having a man bare his soul and then have hot, hard, nasty sex to help him push the memories away again was not the best recipe for maintaining real intimacy.

Finding out that Jean-Paul had lost his whole family when he was fifteen had been a shock he could never have seen coming. Jean-Paul had stood up and walked over to the railing to stand, his body tight with tension he was probably unaware of, his voice carrying just enough for Cam to hear him say,

“When I was fifteen, my family and I were on the way home from holiday in Quebec. Something happened to one of the plane’s engines. The pilot did everything he could to get the plane down safely. But it was not enough.”

Cam’s heart still hurt even now as he remembered the pain he felt at Jean-Paul’s revelation. A whole family wiped out, minus one survivor who was still, twenty-five years later, carrying the pain and the guilt of living. He couldn’t even imagine how hard it must be for Jean-Paul to lose his parents. And even harder to lose his identical twin. To wake up in a hospital not knowing where he was, and having no one to turn to for comfort.

“I can still hear the screams in my nightmares. Mine and everyone else’s,” he’d said. “Now, after all this time, they are an echo in my dreams, as though I have them recorded and they are playing on repeat in an empty room to which only I have sound access. And I cannot stop the tape from replaying.”

Cam desperately wanted to go to his new lover and to wrap him up in his arms. But something told him Jean-Paul needed the space to process his grief, which Cam’s carelessly-thrown-out comment had forced the Frenchman to bare to him. He felt guilty for invading a space so personal, so sacred, it was like a violation of his very soul.

“Jesus! Jean-Paul...God, I’m so sorry, man!”

He hadn’t known what else to say, how else to convey his sorrow for his lover’s loss, and his apology for making him rehash it.

They hadn’t spoken again for a few minutes, and then Jean-Paul had turned and said, “I only dream of them once in a while, these days. In the beginning, I dreamed of them every night. I became an insomniac. I had to be sent to therapy so I could finish school. I took a year off after high school. Americans call it a gap year. I traveled all over Europe. My parents had left me a lot of money and I used it to try and run away from my loneliness.”

Cam had been afraid to speak, to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. But in the end, he had not had to bother. Jean-Paul answered it for him, with more French interspersed as his emotions assailed him.

“I traveled all over and met some really wonderful people...dans le sud de la France, en Italie, en Espagne, en Russie, en Allemagne, en Angleterre...partout où je suis allé. They were good to me.” He had chuckled wryly. “They seemed to know I was a poor, lost French boy who needed someone until he could find himself again.”

Then he had come back to stand by Cam’s chair and pulled him up to stand before him. Their bodies were perfectly aligned, and Cam had felt every breath of air as he said, “Merci, mon ami. You have helped me find myself again.”

Cam shook his head as the cab turned off the highway. He still didn’t know exactly what he had done to help Jean-Paul, aside from listen and feel like an ass for making him rake over all the wounds in his soul. But he had nodded and smiled, and let Jean-Paul kiss him.

The kiss had started out tender, soft, full of gratitude and even affection. But before long they were once again devouring each other, and had barely managed to make it back to Jean-Paul’s bedroom before they were mauling each other and cumming down each other’s throats again.

Afterwards, sated and drowsy, they lay in each other’s arms until they fell asleep. Cam had awakened first, and managed to slide out from under Jean-Paul’s arms and legs without waking him, though he did hear him say, as he was sliding the door open after finding his scattered clothing,

“See you at breakfast, Camden.” The next three days had been filled with work and then play, but an unspoken caution lay between them. They never so much as kissed again, though when Jean-Paul took him out to dinner the night before, he had been as attentive as any lover could be. The restaurant had been a five-star affair, the ambiance had been elegant and sophisticated, their table in a low-lit, romantic setting. And Jean-Paul had held his hands, and kissed his knuckles as he told him how much he had enjoyed having him as a house guest.

“I could not have asked for a better guest,” he’d said, a slow smile creasing his cheeks. “Whenever you want to come back to Washington, or if you are ever in France again, toujours le bienvenu chez moi!”

Now he was on his way to his own home, wondering when, if ever, he would see Jean-Paul again. They had not made any plans to do more than call each other, and when he’d returned Jean-Paul’s one-armed hug at the airport, he had swallowed the desire to ask when they’d meet again. Now he wished he had, but it was too late. Tomorrow he had a meeting at school, and the rest of the week would be spent in professional development for the new task he would be undertaking as the teacher-leader for the World Languages department in his school.

His cell phone vibrated as the car sped along the road. He checked to see who it was, and sighed in relief to see that it was Jean-Paul.

“Are you at home yet?” he asked.

“Miss me?”

Now was as good a time as any to ask the question he had wanted to ask since they had said goodnight in the hallway of Jean-Paul’s apartment last night, each going to sleep in a lonely bed. And since Jean-Paul knew him well enough now, he could disguise the serious intent beneath a pretense of teasing.

“As much as you miss me,” was the drawled response. In that moment, he sounded so much like Jacques Pépin, one of Cam’s favorite TV chefs, that it made Cam smile.

“Then I guess you must miss me a lot more than you thought you would.” No more teasing. He needed to say it.

For a beat, Jean-Paul didn’t respond to his admission, and Cam wondered if maybe he was more affected by their connection than his sometime French lover was.

“I do. It is surprising.”

Cam chuckled softly. “But not unwelcome, I hope?” Not after what we shared three nights ago, I hope.

Of course, he didn’t say any of that, though he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it. When Jean-Paul answered him, he released the breath he had unconsciously been holding.

“Non, it is not unwelcome.” A breath of hesitation before he added, “You will call me when you arrive at home, oui?”

“Sure thing. Talk to you soon.”

The cab sped along, but Cam’s racing thoughts slowed, now that he had spoken to Jean-Paul. Funny how that happened. He hadn’t even realized how tense he was until Jean-Paul had called. Hearing him, talking for those few moments had soothed something inside him. A soft smile played about his lips for the rest of the ride.

“Thank you,” he told the driver and went around to take his luggage out of the trunk.

His house stood five hundred feet off the road on a quiet, tree-lined street. His neighbors to the east of him had children, including a preteen, who loved to play with Cam’s dog, so he always left Sam with them when he went away. He’d go get the dog in a few, but first he’d drop his suitcase indoors. The air in the house was stale, so he walked through and opened some windows. Then he went next door, trudging down his long driveway to the gate in the fence between their properties. He could hear the kids screaming in the back, and splashes told him they were in the pool.

He walked around the side to the backyard. Sam was the first to see him. The big German Shepherd barked and ran to him, panting happily. Cam braced himself for a hundred pounds of happy dog, and let himself fall onto the grass so his pet could shower him with doggy kisses. He laughed, as lighthearted and happy as his dog to be home again.

“Missed me, eh, boy?” he said, chuckling when Sam butted against his hand, demanding more head rubs. He sat up as the kids left the pool to swarm around him.

There were three children in the household, the oldest being the preteen girl, Emma, who hadn’t quite forgiven him for being gay, because it meant her crush went nowhere. Not that it would anyway, since she was young enough to be his daughter, but he still felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t thought about how she would react to his friendly overtures. He worked with teenagers and should know better, but when the family had moved in two years before, she had been ten, and it had not even crossed his mind.

Her mother had explained her change in behavior to him, with much apologizing, after Cam had brought a male date to dinner, but Cam hadn’t been angry. He was used to girls having crushes on him. She’d get over it, and hopefully they could get back to being comfortable with each other again. So, while her brothers ran over to hug him and ask about his trip, Emma sat on the side of the pool and watched them, her face a cross between pleased and pissed off. He’d give her space to figure out how she wanted to be with him today. In the meantime, he hugged the boys, Ethan and Evan.

“Where’s your dad?”

The children’s mother was in the Navy, and their dad had the role of single parent for all the months when she was away. He was an accountant and could work from home.

“He’s inside on the phone,” Evan said. He was nine and the clear leader among the children, even with his big sister being three years older than he was. “Want me to go get him?

“Just tell him I came to pick up Sam.”

“Why don’t you stay and play with us, Mr. A?”

Ethan was five and only ever wanted to play and swim. Cam ruffled his wet hair and said, “Maybe another time, Ethan. I have to get ready for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Tuesday.”

Emma’s tone was sarcastic as she answered her brother’s question, knowing full well that wasn’t what he’d been asking. Cam hastened to provide the answer Ethan wanted, because he didn’t have the energy to referee an argument between a five-year-old and his aggrieved twelve-year-old sister.

“Tomorrow is work, my man. I’ve gotta go back to work now. My summer vacation is over.”

Footsteps sounded as he stood up, and he turned to see Evan returning with Sam’s leash, followed by his father, a wiry little man with a luscious beard and big eyes. Karl Emerson wasn’t exactly a twink, but he was cute and Cam could see exactly why Maria had married him...well, in addition to the fact that he was the kindest, most patient man Cam knew.

“Cam, welcome home, man! How was Orlando?” Karl’s handshake was firm and strong, belying his appearance.

“Hot as h... ever,” he caught himself.

Karl’s big eyes twinkled. “I can just imagine. Your parents good?”

“When I left they were organizing their calendar for the rest of the year.”

Karl laughed with him. He knew Cam’s parents and often marveled aloud at their energy whenever they came to visit.

“I’m guessing they’ll be here for Thanksgiving again?”

“Not this year. I’ll be going down instead. I’ve already been told to make sure I bring only the sides my mom has ordered. In fact, I got a list of what to bring, because she’s not letting me handle the meat this time around. Apparently I didn’t get it quite right last year, so I’m only getting side dishes this year.”

Both men laughed again, then Cam put Sam on his leash. “I’m gonna take him for a walk now. Thanks for looking out for him. Do I owe you anything more?”

Karl waved him away. “Nope. He was a good dog, as always, and in fact we have enough food that if you wanted to leave him again for another week we’d be good.”

Karl’s elderly mother lived with them, and though they wanted a dog, they couldn’t afford to keep one because he was wholly responsible for her care. So, Sam was their surrogate pet.

“How’s your mother?” he asked, and Karl’s face lost some of its light.

“She seems to be weakening, and we’re not sure what’s going on. I’ve had her to the doctor once already, and we’re to go back in for tests. He thinks maybe she’s been having mini strokes...not big enough to cause any permanent damage individually, but together they could have a significant impact on her brain function. I’m just doing my best to keep her on an even keel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope things turn out better than you expect.”

“Me and you both, my friend.”

A few more minutes talking about his wife, and then Cam waved goodbye.

“Bye, Mr. Archer.”

Cam turned back and smiled. Emma’s voice carried quite clearly across the yard, and though he was no longer “Mr. A”, he’d take a spoken goodbye over silence.

She didn’t return his smile, but she watched him walk away. Out front, he turned and walked down the street. His neighbors to the west were an elderly couple whose adult son was mowing their expansive lawn on a riding mower as he walked by. He waved a casual hello which the man returned and continued down the street.

Sam stopped at his usual spots, sniffed and marked them, and Cam let the dog go where he pleased. It was pleasant to amble along behind him, especially since he could indulge in thoughts of Jean-Paul, whom he needed to call. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he called and waited for him to answer.

“You are home?”

“I am, and walking my dog.”

“You have a dog?”

“I do. His name is Sam. Wanna see him?”

“I would indeed.”

They had reached the little park at the end of the street by now, and Cam walked onto the grass and, crouching next to Sam, took a selfie which he promptly sent to Jean-Paul. The caption said, Me and my buddy Sam.

“Quel beau chien!” Jean-Paul’s voice made him shiver just a little.

“Thanks. If you ever pass this way, maybe you’ll get to meet him.”

The minute he said it, Cam felt the weight of Jean-Paul’s silence. He hadn’t meant to issue an invitation to his home, because he still didn’t know where they stood. The words had been casually spoken, but he might take them to mean more than Cam had meant. Or so he told himself. It could have been a Freudian slip, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

“Maybe I will.”

Jean-Paul’s voice had gone low and husky. Cam tried not to read anything into it. Instead, he took Sam onto one of the trails he knew the dog liked and let him find a spot to do his business.

“I’d better go now,” he said. “Gotta scoop the poop.”

Jean-Paul laughed. “Better you than me,” he said. “Take care and have a good week.”

Well, it would definitely be a better week if he and Jean-Paul could keep in touch. He walked back home, dumped the dog poop in the trash bin and went in. It was mid-afternoon, and he had lots to do… laundry, figuring out dinner and lunch for the rest of the week, and organizing his notes from the last week’s workshops. He put out food and water for Sam and got to work. By the time he completed his To Do list, it was past nine and he had only stopped to eat. He let the dog out in the fenced back yard and then went up to shower.

Sleep did not come easy that night. He had resisted the urge to call Jean-Paul again when he rolled into bed, but his mind kept rehearsing the memory of their one night together. The feel of those hard muscles, that hairy chest, the slide of his tongue against Cam’s lips...every touch, every kiss returned to taunt him. The sheets were twisted beneath him as he tossed and turned, unable to find a spot of comfort.

Earlier, in the shower, as he had washed his hair, he had thought of Jean-Paul telling him to take care of it and remembered how much he had loved feeling those strong fingers on his scalp massaging and caressing. He hadn’t known until that moment how much having his hair washed could be a turn on. That whole night had been a revelation to him, as he discovered laughter and affection as well as passion with the man he had hoped to spend more time with. But if he could only have friendship and a one-night stand, he’d take it gladly.

Sighing, he rolled over again and plumped his pillows before lying back and closing his eyes. Maybe he should count sheep... or dogs. Maybe he should go sleep with the dog. At least he’d have a warm body next to his own.  He never would have thought he’d miss sleeping next to a man whose bed he’d only stayed in once. This attraction was not relenting in the slightest, and it had apparently now morphed into something much deeper than a mere hunger for Jean-Paul’s body. He wouldn’t have credited it if anyone had told him it was possible. Now he knew. He just wished he also knew how to manage it. Life was going to be very difficult if he became an insomniac.

When he woke a few hours later, his whole body hurt the way it did when he worked out too hard. He dragged a hand over his eyes as he rolled to his feet and stretched. He’d go for a run first. Then a hot shower should take care of the rest of the aches and pains. His travel mug of black coffee should wake him up enough so he’d be coherent by the time he got to work. But he was tired and there was no reason for it. He hadn’t gone to the gym the day before, because he had lain in bed hoping Jean-Paul would come to him.

He dragged on his sweats and an old t-shirt, pulled his running shoes on, and walked out. Sam was waiting at the door and Cam smiled at the familiar feeling of being home. The dog would run with him, which took care of the morning walk. Outside, he pushed his key into the zippered pocket of his sweats and walked briskly to the park, where he did some warm-up stretches and then took off along the running paths. The morning air was cool, as it usually was here toward the end of August. He knew it would heat up quickly, as summer would linger for a while before giving up to the cool beauty of fall.

When he stopped to let Sam do his business, he did some more stretches to cool down, and once he cleaned up after his dog making use of the supplies provided by the town, they walked back home together. He fed and watered the dog and went up to shower and get ready for his day. Back in the kitchen, his laptop bag on the table already, he made himself coffee and while it brewed he toasted a bagel and slathered it with peanut butter. He didn’t have time for anything more elegant, and the protein in the peanut butter would fill him up and prevent hunger from distracting him.

He knew today’s meetings would be dull as dish water, but necessary for getting the ball rolling. And the leadership training was going to be brutal, not the least because he would be the only teacher-leader from his district at the countywide event. He was pretty sure he was also the only one still working on his education administration certification. This year would be his internship year, and the town was invested in his success enough to pay for this four-day workshop.

He looked down at his dark slacks and long-sleeved shirt, buttoned up to the top two buttons. He wore dress shoes, instead of sneakers as he would have preferred, and he left the sleeves of the shirt at his wrists, instead of rolling them up as he liked to do. He balked at wearing a tie. Bad enough he’d have to do that and keep his hair in a ponytail during the school year. Running a hand through his loose golden locks now, he had a sudden wish that it was Jean-Paul’s fingers sliding through them. The thought was a waste of emotional energy, so he let it slide and packed his sandwich for lunch, picked up his travel mug and let his dog into his enclosed backyard.

“Later, buddy,” he said, rubbing Sam’s head.

The dog knew the routine and he wagged his tail and barked as though to say “Yea, see you.” Then he ran off to the kennel at the far end, in the corner closest to the Emersons’ yard, where he could hear the children playing, and where, if they came for a visit, he could get a head rub between the slats.

His truck smelled like paint, and he vowed to give it a good detailing, inside and out, before the kids returned for classes in a week. In the meantime, he opened all the windows and let the cool morning air blow the stale smells out of it. He turned the radio to an instrumental music channel. He knew he’d need to focus for the day, and he knew his unsettled thoughts about Jean-Paul would have no place in his professional interactions. He hadn’t sent him the text he had been dying to send, and he hadn’t looked at his phone. Part of that was not wanting to find nothing from him. He didn’t want to feel the sting of rejection. Better to get focused on other things, so if no call or text came, he’d be too busy to notice.

His cell phone rang and the Bluetooth connection blew his resolve right out the window, along with the scent of paint. He hit answer.

“Morning, Jean-Paul.”

“Bonjour, mon ami. Are you on your way to work?”

“I am. And I know you’re probably already there.”

“Have been for half an hour.”

Cam glanced at the time and his eyes widened. “You’ve been at work since 7:30? Why?”

A small silence met his question before Jean-Paul said, “I seem to have grown accustomed to having someone to share my mornings with.”

Cam smiled. He got that. “I’m here when you need to talk.”

“Thank you.”

Cam heard a sound on Jean-Paul’s end and then he came back to say, “I must go now, Camden. Have a nice day. We will speak again.”

“Sure thing, Jean-Paul. Take care.”

He managed to wipe the goofy grin off his face by the time he parked his truck in the school’s parking lot. He hoped he’d get a spot closer to the building than he did last year, when the lottery had him parked at the far upper end of the lot. Maybe this year he’d hit the parking jackpot. For this week, he could park wherever he liked, and his spot just across from the front steps of the school was ideal for a quick in and out. He locked the truck doors and turned to walk in when he was joined by a colleague.

“Welcome back, Kotter!”

Cam chuckled. Jim Raines was an aficionado of television sitcoms, and Welcome Back, Kotter was one of his favorites.

“How was your summer break?”

Cam hid the grin again, not wanting any more probing questions about his holiday. “It was great, thanks. Yours?”

Jim grinned as they walked through the doors of the school. “Best ever. Jeannie said yes.” His cheeks bloomed with color as he spoke, but he held Cam’s gaze, pride and joy shining in his eyes.

Cam turned to him delightedly. “Congratulations, man!”

He hugged Jim and slapped him on the back, truly pleased. Everyone knew Jim as the nerdy guy who was a whiz at television sitcom trivia and who had secretly been in love forever with his girl. To know he had finally got up the nerve to pop the question was a real thrill. The principal had just walked out of her office and had overheard his revelation, and she walked over to hug him and give him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

“Seems like we’ll be partying before the school year even starts, eh, Jimmy?”

Jim blushed again and laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Mr. Archer, welcome back!”

For some reason unknown to Cam, the principal never called him by his given name at any time, he had thought it was because she was secretly homophobic, but she had since hired three other gay men, and there had already been two lesbians on staff when she arrived. He was the only one she singled out to address formally. He had stopped wondering why or letting it bother him a long time ago.

“Thank you, Mrs. Baxter.”

He sketched her a brief salute and walked away with Jim. Time to get to work.