Page 26 of Pages of My Heart

Thomas

As he walks with Charlie past the local shops already decorated for Christmas, Thomas finds himself lost in thought.

Lately, he’s been really feeling the pressure of college, especially having missed so much time at the start of the semester.

And now with less than a year until he graduates, he’s become apprehensive about his prospects.

Working part-time at a greasy spoon is easy, but having the responsibility of a teacher—despite that being all he’s wanted for as long as he can remember—fills him with trepidation.

But even more pressing is his growing fear of losing Charlie.

A fear that seems to have burrowed its way right into the very marrow of his bones.

He fears being discovered. He fears being forced to marry a woman he does not, cannot, love.

When they began their relationship over two years ago, Thomas was barely eighteen and, with hindsight, a little wet behind the ears.

How long can they continue sneaking around, stealing private moments together in public places?

How long can they keep lying to their families and taking poor, unassuming girls on pretend dates?

How many years can they remain bachelors who spend all their time together and not have people suspect?

It feels like their love is on borrowed time.

But he doesn’t see any point in living if he has no future with Charlie. He feels like he’s drowning.

“Tommy? You ain’t spoken since we left your house. What’s wrong?”

Charlie’s voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

They’re meeting two girls at a malt shop for an afternoon date.

It’s not always easy to find two sisters or two friends to take out together, but they try hard to stick to this agreed upon rule.

A few times in the past they’ve been out with girls separately, but it always ends in jealousy and arguments.

Once they find two willing girls, they try to take them out a few times and ensure someone they know sees them together.

And of course they talk about these girls to anyone who’ll listen and complain about their poor luck in finding the right girl to settle down with.

Thomas stops walking, tapping Charlie’s elbow so he does too, then tugs him nearer to the storefronts so they’re out of the biting wind. “Nothing’s wrong,” he answers. “I’m just sick of this. How long are we going to keep doing this?”

Charlie’s face pales. “What are you saying? You don’t wanna be with me anymore? You’re sick of me?”

Thomas can’t help himself—he laughs. If he doesn’t, he will surely cry on this cold, icy sidewalk in front of all these people passing by.

“No, dummy! I’m sick of these stupid dates!

I’m sick of spending my hard-earned dollars buying ice creams or candy and tickets to the pictures for girls I don’t care about”—he drops his voice to a whisper—“instead of you. I’m sick of pretending. It’s not fucking fair.”

Charlie bites his bottom lip, gloved hand coming up to his forehead.

Thomas can almost see his thoughts racing as he tries to find a solution.

Charlie always tries to look after him—it’s one of a thousand things Thomas loves about him.

His darling Charlie is a considerate, caring man, and God should never have placed this burden upon him.

“Thomas, I know it ain’t fair,” Charlie says gently.

“I’m sick of it too, but what choice do we got?

Once you finish college and get a job, maybe we’ll have more options.

More freedom. Jimmy said I might get a raise next year.

Maybe . . . I dunno, maybe we can move away somewhere?

But for now, we gotta keep up appearances.

We ain’t gone on any dates in a few months, so let’s just get this one outta the way and then we ain’t gotta do it again for a spell. Okay?”

At this moment, all Thomas wants is to hold Charlie. Even more, he wants to be held. “Can we go to the docks tonight? See if that old boat is still there? It’ll be cold, but I could sneak a blanket out of my house and we could set it down on the floor in the cabin.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Charlie’s cheeks flush. “Now let’s get this shit over and done with,” he says, bumping Thomas with his shoulder to get him moving.

They continue down the busy street until they reach the small malt shop on the corner.

It’s warm inside and packed with young people their age, but they quickly spot the two girls they’re here to meet in a booth in the back and make their way over.

Mary and Carol. They’re both from his college, and, to be fair, they are lovely girls, even if a little too giggly.

Ten minutes later they are sipping hot chocolates piled high with whipped cream and making small talk.

Thomas knows the drill. They will both flirt a little but ensure the girls know they are gentlemen.

At the end of the afternoon, each will kiss his date on the hand and tell her he had a wonderful time.

If the girls are the type to play hard to get, then they’ll ask them out again, sometimes even a third time, before moving on.

If the girls come across as easy, they’ll leave it at one date, because fending off the kisses and wandering hands of someone else is not something either of them can stomach.

Thomas will chance some lovesick looks at Charlie when the girls are engaged in their own conversation, which is often, and he will let his mind wander ahead to when he will finally get Charlie alone.

It’s far from ideal, but it’s their life. And endure it, they must.

Later that evening, they lie naked in each other’s arms inside their boat cabin and joke about the date.

Thomas snuck two blankets out of his house, so they have one under them and a heavy quilt over them.

Their little cocoon is bathed in the soft glow of a full moon stealing in through the cabin windows, and while the air around them is frigid, they are still warm from their love making.

They remain pressed to each other, maximizing their body heat, chest to chest and limbs entwined.

Thomas cherishes those weekends when he can sleep next to Charlie and wake up to beautiful blue eyes in the morning. But this is good too.

“Carol really liked you,” he teases.

Charlie pinches his ass. “She did not! She seemed bored.”

“Nope. Didn’t you see her flick her hair and bat her eyelashes at you?”

Charlie shakes his head. “Yeah? Well, I’ve only got eyes for you, sweetheart.”

“Hmm, you better.”

“Oh? And what are you gonna do about it if I don’t?” Charlie raises his eyebrows, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Thomas rolls on top of him, grabbing Charlie’s wrists and pinning them above his head. “Oh, you know exactly what I’ll do.”

“Tough guy, huh? Guess you better show me.”

“Guess I better.”