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MASON

T he following weeks turned my mood sullen. I missed having Connor by my side. I’d dropped him off in Portland the last week of August, and it was difficult to say goodbye. I did get the chance to see Sharon, his mother, again, and it was a heartfelt reunion to watch the two of them. I couldn’t stay more than a few hours because I needed to pick up some freight in Vancouver, Washington, just north of Portland, before it got too late. I had numerous stops along the I-5 corridor, which was good. It kept my mind and body busy and wouldn’t let me dwell on Connor too much.

During our visit after I dropped him off, Connor and I acknowledged our first anniversary since our chance meeting. Thinking about that rest-stop encounter, I realized how much we’d shared in one year. It had gone by so fast, but we toasted it with beer and the grilled chicken Sharon had prepared for our arrival.

Having had Connor at my condo and him having met Eli, I knew I wanted to share my life with him. That visit to Crescent City solidified my feelings. He captured my heart, and I knew I was in love. The only caveat was how he felt and if he wanted to share his life with me.

I was able to call and chat with Jack and Sylvia one night when I was on the outskirts of Seattle. They started by asking how things were going, and I shared about the spring and summer with Connor. Not being subtle, Sylvia wanted to know more about how I felt and if I’d started living a life outside my job. I decided it was time to let them know about my feelings for Connor. I took a deep breath.

“I know I was a little evasive in not telling you too much about Connor when I saw you both last Christmas,” I started out saying. “I’ve realized after spending quality time together that I’m bi. I never considered any romantic relationship with a man until he entered my life. My love for your daughter was whole and true, but after all these years and having been with him, I’ve fallen stupidly in love again. It’s so different, but it feels right.”

I waited for their reaction, but all I heard was silence. I closed my eyes and waited for a tirade of unacceptance and confusion. I didn’t expect the reaction I received.

Sylvia spoke first. “Mason, Jack, and I could tell something was going on with you and how you talked about Connor. We’d discussed it after your visit before Christmas last year. Your voice held tenderness, and you spoke of him with awe. He took hold of something in you. Call it a mother’s intuition, but I knew you felt something for him.”

When I heard her words, a sense of relief washed over me. My throat tightened, and the tension I held in my shoulders eased. Then Jack spoke.

“Listen, Son, our lives may take different directions, and yours certainly has, but we want you to know you will always be a part of our lives—you’re still considered family. Your next step is what you plan to do with this and the chance at love you’ve been given. We want you to know you will always have our support, whatever you decide to do or wherever life may take you.”

All I could do was listen as tears filled my eyes. Their acceptance and love meant everything to me. I felt like a sap with happy tears running down my cheeks. I hadn’t opened my heart in so long, it felt foreign but freeing at the same time. The armor around my heart had cracked open because of a young man with emerald-green eyes.

I composed myself, then thanked them. We continued with small talk for a bit, but before we said our goodbyes, Sylvia reminded me to keep in touch, and I planned on doing just that. When I hung up, I pulled out the small bottle of bourbon I kept in my rig, and since I was done driving for the day, I poured a couple of fingers into my travel mug and dialed Connor’s number.

He answered on the first ring, calling me ‘Daddy.’ He knew it was me, but I couldn’t form words.

“Mason?” he asked with a concerned lilt a second time.

“Hi, baby,” I replied. My voice was shaky and came out weak.

“Wha…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, babe. It’s…I just got off the phone with Claudia’s parents. When I saw them over the holidays, they insisted I keep in touch. I haven’t been good at doing that.” I took a deep breath and a deeper sip of bourbon. “They’re incredibly supportive people. It was just a deeply moving conversation. I shared with them about our year together.”

I don’t think Connor had ever seen or heard me get emotional before, other than during sex, and that was just passionate expression. Hearing my voice without visual context probably came across as alarming.

“Listen,” I said. “I needed to hear your voice and ask how things were going. It’s been a few days since we’ve chatted, and I miss you.” We normally texted or called each other daily, or at least every other day, to stay connected.

“I miss you too,” he said sadly. “I think summer spoiled us, and we’re both feeling a little sad and lonely because of it.”

I decided to lose my melancholic funk and changed the subject. “How’s Spencer, by the way? You haven’t told me how his summer went in Boise with his friend.”

Connor laughed. “Spencer was so concerned about how things would go for Evan, but apparently, Evan’s family took Spence under their wing like he was part of their clan. He said he spent more time with them than his own family all summer.”

“And did Evan finally come out?” I asked casually.

I could sense Connor’s giddiness when he spoke. “A week before Spence was due back here, Evan decided it was time to come clean with his family. With Spencer by his side, he told them everything about his life and ended his speech, taking Spencer’s hand in his.”

“And the family’s reaction?” I waited, not necessarily fearful, since Connor was upbeat talking about it.

“Evan’s mom simply said, ‘Finally,’ which kind of took the wind out of his sails. His sisters were happy for him. The sticky part was his dad. The family is Mormon, and that kind of news can be tough to accept. It’ll take some time for them to adjust, but Spencer told me Evan was overjoyed at not being disowned.”

“I’m happy it worked out for him and Spencer,” I responded. “Since Spencer is back at school, he must miss not having Evan around.” Once I’d said that, I realized it wasn’t much different from what Connor and I were experiencing in our relationship.

“He’s just staying busy with his studies and tutoring. I am too, actually. We’ve been swimming almost every morning, which I missed over the summer,” he said. I felt a twinge of guilt knowing he couldn’t swim around our schedules, and finding available pools was a challenge.

“Are you doing alright with money?” I asked, not wanting to pry.

“Oh yeah, I’m good. With what I made working for you this summer and my tutoring, I should be good for a while.” Connor made it seem like nothing, but I knew what it was like when I was in college. I needed a part-time job to supplement the life insurance payout I received when my parents were killed. I still had to scrape by to make ends meet back then.

Before we ended the call, Connor wanted to know where I was headed next. We weren’t sure how long it would be before we could see each other again, and it was now the end of September. I told him I’d be heading down south into Arizona, Nevada, and eventually California, but I’d make sure to keep him updated.

We told each other we’d send photos from our phones—where I was, what he was doing—kind of like social media. The thing was, Connor would send me pics of the cafeteria meals he’d eaten and shots of a lecture class he attended, but what I appreciated most were the occasional shots of him in his Speedo that Spencer had taken—those I saved.

As fall approached, I became more aware of the upcoming weather conditions. I hardly had any issues in the southwest states, but once I hit Utah, Idaho, Oregon, and Washington, the roads would become more treacherous, and so would other drivers.

I had a feeling it was going to be a long fall and winter. It was too soon to make plans for the holidays, but I told Connor I’d work something out with Jim regarding my freight deliveries.

Little did I know the winter would be the one to change my life.