Page 4 of The Summer that Ruined Everything

CHAPTER 4

N aked .

Cal woke the next morning with a clearer head than he would have expected and only one moment of confusion: why am I naked?

He looked around his bedroom, blinking sleep out of his eyes. The light coming in the windows was grey and muted, and as he oriented himself to consciousness he realized it was still raining, the patter of the raindrops a white noise around him.

His clothes from the previous day were tossed haphazardly across the chair in the corner, and his shoes were on the opposite side of the room, against the wall. The events of the night before flooded back in a rush, and he winced at the memory, the pit in his stomach growing larger.

When he’d entered his room, he’d kicked the shoes off impatiently, then discarded his clothes and crawled under the sheets without bothering to turn on the light and find his pajamas. He’d stubbornly squeezed his eyes shut until he finally fell asleep. Had he tracked mud through the house while coming in? He hoped not. It would just mean there’d be questions, and he didn’t have answers.

He rubbed his hands across his face and gave himself a pep talk. He hadn’t lost anything, he reasoned, because Jack was never his to begin with. It had all been in his head, the way he thought Jack was flirting with him and indicating interest.

Cal recalled what Jack had said on the beach — you’re new and interesting — and what Penny had said the night before — he keeps talking about embracing the locals — and saw how he’d misinterpreted the situation.

Jack wasn’t interested in him. Jack had a girlfriend. Jack flirted with everyone, was affectionate with everyone. He was just open, and friendly, and not hung up on things like whether it was acceptable for two men to be touching so much.

Cal was a novelty to Jack, that was all. It was his own damned fault that he’d read more into it than was actually there. He could blame it on his magazine fantasies and on getting a little star struck.

None of this made him feel any better, but at least he knew, rationally, that he was thinking straight again.

But what now? He couldn’t just go back over there, not after the way he’d embarrassed himself. He pulled the covers over his face as if to hide from the memory. It was the pot, it must have been. He’d just kept talking, telling Jack things he had no business sharing with a stranger. For fuck’s sake, he’d nearly?—

Cal sat straight up in bed, his heart pounding. He’d nearly told Jack he was homosexual. But he hadn’t. He’d stopped...right? He searched his memory for the moment. Yes, just before he’d been about to say it, the girls had interrupted. Thank god. He couldn’t believe he’d been about to out himself to Jack Francis.

He’d never said the words aloud before. To anyone, not even himself.

With a frustrated huff, he threw the covers back and climbed out of bed. He just needed to put it behind him and move on. It didn’t matter how bad he felt...that wouldn’t change anything, so he just had to live with it.

He didn’t feel up to facing his parents at breakfast, so he slipped down to steal some food and return to his room before they arrived. When he reached the kitchen, Flora was pulling fresh blueberry muffins out of the oven.

“Those smell incredible,” he said. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Flora said. “Will you eat two or three?”

He smiled. After years working for the Buchanans, she knew that when he arrived early he was looking to escape. “Two is fine. And maybe?—“

She set a frying pan on the stove. “Bacon coming right up. Get yourself a glass of orange juice. Coffee will be ready in a minute.”

“Thanks, Flora,” he said.

“Next time you sneak in during a rainstorm, take off your shoes inside the door and leave them in here,” she said, shooting him a look.

He blushed. So he had tracked evidence in, and she’d taken care of it. “Thanks,” he said again.

“So where were you off to?” she asked, as the bacon began to sizzle. “Somewhere fun, I hope.”

He hesitated, and then sighed. “It was supposed to be. I went next door.”

“Ah, to see the movie star,” she said.

He blinked. “How do you know?—“

“He hired a friend of mine for the summer. But word will be getting around quick enough. You know this town.” She turned the bacon. “What’s he like?”

“He’s nice,” Cal said. It was true, at least. “Very friendly. A little odd.”

“Odd?”

“He isn’t...he doesn’t seem concerned with what people think. He just does things and says things and seems to be having a good time.” Cal smiled. “He laughs a lot.”

“Good-looking gentleman, from what my friend tells me. And very polite.” She winked, and turned off the burner. “Grab yourself a tray.”

Cal went into the pantry to collect the item, and gave himself a second to breathe before he returned. Flora was sharp, and he’d wondered for a long time if she knew about him. He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might suspect.

She didn’t say anything more about Jack, or ask about his evening, as she set a plate with two muffins and four slices of bacon on the tray, along with the orange juice, a mug of coffee, and a dish of butter.

“Let the muffins cool another minute or two before cutting them open,” she warned. “And bring everything back before?—“

“Before the ants find it. Yes, ma’am.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek as he took the tray. “Could you do me a favor and not mention about next door?—“

“What would I mention? I know nothing,” she said. “Go, before your mother decides to come down early to ‘help’ me again.”

He smirked and skedaddled back up to his room.

* * *

Because he’d successfully avoided breakfast, he decided to make an appearance at lunch. He could have gone out, but it was still pouring, and his summer friends were probably only just arriving. So he slid into his place at the table just as his father walked in.

The man was grinning, which was usually not a good thing.

He sat in his place and picked up his napkin, snapping it onto his lap. Then he took a sip from his water goblet and grinned at Cal.

“Guess who I was just on the phone with,” Theodore said.

“Who?” asked Judith. She plucked a warm roll out of the bread basket and passed the basket to Cal. He selected a roll for himself and passed it along to his father.

“Joe Thornton.” Theodore leaned back in his chair as Flora approached with the soup tureen.

“Oh? That’s nice, how are they? Last time I saw Emily it must have been...was it as far back as Harvard-Yale last fall?”

“It was,” Theodore said. “We spoke about what a good weekend that was for us all.”

“Yes. I’m tasting the meal we had at the Oyster House just by thinking about it. Let’s make sure to go back there this year.”

“Agreed,” Theodore replied. “That was quite the weekend, wasn’t it, Calloway?”

Cal paused in blowing on his soup. “Yes, Sir. It was a nice weekend,” he said.

His parents had come up to Cambridge for the annual Harvard-Yale football game. They didn’t make a habit of visiting him at school, so whenever it happened it was an event. They’d stay at the Omni Parker House — if it’s good enough for a Kennedy, it’s good enough for me , Theodore was known to say to whomever would listen — make reservations at the finest and most prestigious restaurants, and stroll around campus pointing out locations fondly, since his father had attended Harvard while courting his mother.

Meanwhile, Cal would trail behind, trying to look and act the way the heir to Buchanan Industries should look and act.

“In any event,” Theodore continued, “Joe and I were reminiscing about that weekend, as well as the trips we’ve taken together in the past, and he decided they’re going to come out to visit this summer.”

Cal carefully set his spoon down, and listened.

“That’s wonderful,” Judith said. “When are they coming?”

“They’ll be here for Independence Day weekend and plan to stay a few weeks.” He grinned again, this time directed at Cal. “I bet that will have you feeling more enthusiastic about the summer here.”

Cal nodded. “Sure,” he said, mustering a smile. “That’ll be great.”

If Joe and Emily Thornton were coming for a visit, that meant they’d be bringing Katherine. And that meant —

“I’m sure there will be some plans to be made,” Judith said with a knowing smile. She reached over and patted Cal’s hand, and he pushed his chair back and stood.

“That’s great news,” he said. “May I be excused? I need to?—“

“Have a phone call you want to make?” Theodore chuckled, and waved his hand towards the door. “Go on, then.”

Cal dropped his napkin on his chair, and Judith raised her hand.

“Oh, Calloway, your father and I will be out for the day tomorrow, to see the Harrisons, and we won’t be back until late. Flora will leave meals for you, but I gave her the day off.”

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Then he fled the room. The last thing he wanted was to make the phone call his father thought he was making, but he went into his father’s study anyhow, to make it look like he was. He could hide in here until lunch was over, waiting for the nausea to subside, just as easily as he could hide anywhere else.

* * *

On Sunday, it was still raining. Theodore and Judith left after breakfast, anxious to get on the road for the day trip to Hartford before the new storm that seemed to be brewing unleashed itself. Cal watched them go with relief. If he was going to be cooped up in the house again, feeling depressed, he’d rather no one be around to see it.

He wandered from room to room for a while before settling in the den with a book. A couple of hours later, he was on the same page he’d started on and no closer to knowing what was on it. With a sigh, he set the book aside and went to make himself a sandwich.

After lunch, he was about to turn on the television, just to have some noise besides his thoughts to keep him company, when the back doorbell rang.

Cal frowned in the direction of the back door. Had one of his friends arrived early and decided to swing by without calling first? It seemed unlikely, especially coming to the back door. Who would be coming from the beach, in the pouring rain?

The bell rang again, and, with a shrug, he went to investigate. When he peered through the window, he froze.

Standing on the back patio, wearing a giant gray hooded sweater and yellow track pants, and hopping from sandaled foot to sandaled foot, was Jack.

What was Jack doing here?

Jack’s face, partially hidden under the sodden hood, burst into a grin when Cal appeared in the window.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Open up.”

Cal dumbfoundedly unlocked the door and twisted the handle. He took a deep breath before he pulled it open.

“Hi,” he said. “What are you...I mean, hi.”

Jack bounced on his toes. “I have a gift for you,” he said. “That’s the rule, right? Never show up to someone’s house empty-handed?”

Cal realized Jack was holding his hands behind his back. The sweater was so bulky he’d missed that initially. “Oh. Um…yeah, the rule. But you don’t have to?—“

“Rules are rules.” With a flourish, Jack produced Cal’s loafers, the ones he’d left on the beach the other night. “For you.”

“My shoes.” Cal stared at them, and then at Jack, who was still grinning at him. He couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. “That’s my gift?”

“Yup,” Jack said, his lips popping on the p . “You left so fast the other night, I didn’t have a chance to give them to you. Didn’t want you to feel like I was holding them hostage forever, like some freak shoe hoarder.”

Cal took the shoes, and shook his head. “I guess I forgot about them,” he said. “Thanks for bringing them over. Especially in the rain.”

“No problem,” Jack said. “Gave me an excuse to leave the house. It’s boring today, everyone keeps sleeping.” He rolled his eyes.

“Do you...do you want to come in?” The question sent Cal’s pulse racing. Stupid, that was stupid, he reminded himself. Jack had a girlfriend, no need to get so?—

“Nah,” Jack said, and Cal’s heart sank. But then Jack gestured behind him. “I want you to come out with me instead.”

“Out there? On the patio?” Cal looked around. Unlike the patio at Jack’s house, Cal’s back patio was covered. However, the wind still blew the rain sideways from time to time, so it wasn’t exactly dry.

“No, down to the beach,” Jack said. “Come for a walk.”

Cal laughed. Jack was joking, surely. “It’s raining,” he said.

“Good observation, Harvard,” Jack said. “What’s your point? You never walked in the rain?”

“Sure I have. Just not on purpose,” Cal said.

“Then you don’t know what you’re missing. Come on, put some shoes on, grab a sweater or something. Let’s go.” Jack cocked his head to the side. “Okay?”

Cal licked his lips. Maybe Jack wanted to be friends. A warmth bloomed in Cal’s chest, and he smiled. He could do that. Even if it wasn’t what he had thought...they could be friends.

“Okay,” he said.

A few minutes later he was pulling up his own hood, locking the door behind him, and following Jack back across the soggy lawn to the beach stairs. They clattered down them side by side and then their feet slapped on the wet sand.

Jack turned west, and Cal fell into step beside him. The rain fell steadily, and even though it wasn’t raining hard, it soaked his hood and shoulders in minutes so that the fabric clung to his skin. Every few minutes, the wind whipped around them, tossing the rain into his face. The sand was mushy and slippery beneath his feet.

Still, despite all of this, he grinned. It felt good to be outside, and the rain felt like it was washing away the mood he’d been living in for the past day and a half. Or maybe it was the guy beside him that was doing that.

He smiled at the way Jack was winding through the sand in no discernible pattern. Cal glanced over his shoulder and marveled at the difference in the tracks they left; his formed a clear straight line, while Jack’s wove back and forth and looped around crazily.

They’d made it past two houses before Jack spoke up.

“So why did you leave?” he asked. “On Friday? You weren’t having fun?”

He looked over at Cal, his green eyes wide and, to Cal’s surprise, concerned.

“I was having fun,” Cal said. “That was...you were...it was fun.”

“Okay. Then what happened?”

“I was tired,” Cal said feebly.

Jack frowned. “Are you sure? Because you seemed like you were mad.” He shrugged. “I kind of wondered if I’d said something wrong, and if you’d slam the door in my face when I showed up today. If I did, I didn’t mean to. I say a lot of shit and most of it is just...nothing.”

“You didn’t — I wasn’t mad,” Cal said. “I just...your girlfriend came out, and I didn’t want to be in the way.”

“My what?” Jack stopped walking, and when Cal turned around, his mouth was a round O.

“Your girlfriend. Ginny?” Cal shrugged.

Jack burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he doubled over, his arms clutched around his narrow waist, his dripping curls bouncing around his jerking head. Cal just stared at him.

After a minute, he took a breath and straightened up, then shook his head.

“Cal,” he said, looking utterly delighted. “That’s why you left? Ginny isn’t — she’s not —”

Then he was laughing again. Cal fidgeted, shuffling his feet in the sand and feeling cold. Was Jack saying that Ginny wasn’t his girlfriend?

Suddenly, Jack sprang forward and smacked a hand against Cal’s chest.

“You’re too good to be true,” he said, blinking up at Cal. “I’m gonna have to pay my agent a bonus for picking the house next to yours.”

He twisted his fingers in Cal’s sleeve and began walking again. Cal followed along, letting himself be led further across the sand.

“So Ginny isn’t…” Cal began.

“No, she isn’t,” Jack said. “God, imagine. She’s just a friend.”

“You were kissing her a lot ,” Cal pointed out.

“She was kissing me a lot,” Jack said. “Right before we came out here, Ginny lost an audition because the casting director said she wasn’t a convincing kisser. She took that hard and has been using me to practice.” He snickered. “Me and everyone else. You’re lucky she didn’t lay one on you. Give her another day, she might.”

“And you just let her?” Cal tried to wrap his mind around the idea of just kissing someone, at any time you wanted.

“Why not? Kissing is fun,” Jack said. He shot a sideways glance at Cal. “Don’t you think?”

“Sure, yeah,” Cal said.

“So you really just left because you thought I was making out with a girlfriend?” Jack asked.

“I guess,” Cal said. “I figured you’d moved on from hanging out with me and didn’t want to overstay.”

“You couldn’t,” Jack swung his arm, and since he was still holding Cal’s sleeve, swung Cal’s arm as well. “You’re welcome whenever and however long you want. Okay?”

“Okay,” Cal said. He looked down at where Jack was still gripping his sleeve. It was almost like Jack was holding his hand. Almost.

If Ginny wasn’t Jack’s girlfriend...maybe Cal hadn’t been misreading Jack’s flirting. His heart rate sped up. If only he had the guts to grab Jack’s hand for real. If only he wasn’t always worried about who might be looking out their window and see.

On impulse, he swiveled his wrist and pinched the edge of Jack’s sleeve between his fingers. Jack stopped swinging his arm. Slowly, he slid his pinky down to stroke against Cal’s wrist. Cal swallowed.

Then Jack let go and bounded in the opposite direction, headed east.

“Let’s go back,” he said. “It’s wet.”

“Well...it’s raining,” laughed Cal.

Jack turned and began to run, and after a second, Cal gave chase. They sprinted across the sand, leaving a spray of it behind them, and reached Cal’s stairs gasping for breath.

“Am I…” Jack gulped air. “Am I coming up, or going back next door?”

“Come up,” Cal said. “No one’s home. My parents went to Hartford for the day. We won’t be...it’ll just be us.”

He led the way up to the house and unlocked the door, ushering them both inside, where they stood, dripping on the wooden floor.

“Maybe this was a dumb idea,” Jack said. “The walking in the rain. I have a lot of dumb ideas.”

“No, it was...I liked it,” Cal said. He peered at Jack in the dim entry. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” Jack said, clearly shivering.

“You’re not. We should put on dry clothes.”

Jack glanced at the door. “I guess I could run home and change?”

Cal didn’t want Jack to leave. Even with a promise to come back. He felt like there was some kind of charge in the air, and if Jack left, it might fizzle out.

“I can give you something. Wait here.”

He kicked off his waterlogged shoes and took off for his room, taking the back stairs two at a time. Once there, he quickly stripped off his soaked jeans, sweater, and tee, and replaced them with dry sweats. He grabbed a second set of sweats, snagged a couple of towels from the bathroom, and then ran back down.

Jack was waiting for him, alternating between hugging himself and holding his arms out to his sides. Cal handed him the clothes and one of the towels.

“They’ll be big, but...the bathroom is just down there.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, flashing Cal a grin. He kicked off his own shoes and then gingerly made his way down the hall.

Cal quickly used the other towel to mop up the floor, then tossed it into the corner. He went into the kitchen and set up the tea kettle, pulling out mugs and tea bags and spoons and honey. By the time he heard Jack calling his name, the kettle was beginning to rattle.

“In here,” Cal called. Jack rounded the corner a moment later, and Cal smiled.

He was swimming in the sweats. The neck hung low, and he was holding up the pants with his left hand.

Cal stared. He stared at the way the right shoulder sagged and the sleeves were bunched up and the legs were rolled at Jack’s ankles. He stared at Jack’s glistening curls that hung around his face. He stared at the way the guy’s thin frame was still somehow visible under all that fabric.

Jack laughed self-consciously. “I look ridiculous.”

“No,” Cal said. He cleared his throat. “No, you…”

The kettle began to whistle, a piercing shriek that made them both jump. Cal fumbled with the knobs on the stove until it stopped. He grabbed a pot holder and busied himself pouring the water over the teabags.

“Do you like honey? Or I think there’s lemon.” He glanced over his shoulder.

“Honey is good,” Jack said. “Thanks.”

Cal finished preparing the tea, and when he turned around again, Jack was right behind him.

“Here.” Cal handed Jack his mug. “Let’s go into the den.”

Jack followed him through the house, and they settled on the sofa in the den. Cal grabbed a couple of crocheted blankets and they threw them over their laps and sat clutching their steaming mugs, letting the warmth finally creep in.

“I feel like my grandmother,” Cal said.

Jack giggled. “Is your grandmother six and a half feet of muscle?”

“No.” Cal laughed. “She is tall, though. I think the word is ‘patrician.’”

“Does she live here?” Jack asked.

“Newton,” Cal said. “Just outside of Boston. My mother keeps trying to get her to move down here but she says she prefers civilized land.”

“And this is not?”

“Golf clubs and beach shanties do not civilization make,” Cal said, mimicking his grandmother’s reedy tone. “I actually think she likes her card games and doesn’t want to leave them.”

Jack snickered. “What about your grandfather? What does he think?”

“He passed a few years ago,” Cal said. “Which is why my mother would like her to move. But I check in on her every so often, and she seems fine to me.”

“It’s nice that you see your grandmother,” Jack said. “I miss mine. I grew up with her living a few floors up in our apartment building.”

“When did you lose her?” Cal asked.

“Oh, I didn’t. She’s still there, in the same apartment. But since I moved to L.A…” he shrugged.

“What are your parents like?”

They talked through the rest of the afternoon, the rumbling thunder a soundtrack to the meandering conversation. Cal asked Jack about Hollywood, and with a scrunch of his nose that made Cal’s belly tingle, Jack talked about studios and contracts and directors and scripts.

“Is it hard to pretend to be different people all the time?” Cal asked.

“Not hard. I mean, it’s a lot of work. But it’s fun, and kind of freeing?” Jack replied. “I mean, have you ever wished you could just leave your whole life behind and be someone else for a while?”

Definitely , Cal thought.

Jack asked about college, and what Cal planned to do after he graduated.

“Work for the company,” Cal said automatically.

“What company?”

“My family’s company,” Cal said. “Buchanan Industries.”

“What will you do?”

“I’ll —” Cal hesitated, and then laughed. “You know, I’m not even sure. I never thought to ask. I guess I’ll find out when I get there.”

Jack looked baffled by this, and Cal couldn’t blame him.

When Jack’s stomach let out a loud growl, Cal half expected him to say it was time to go. Instead, he said, “Got anything to eat around here?”

Cal heated up one of Flora’s specialty casseroles for dinner, and they talked through bites of lamb and peas and potatoes, sipping on beer.

“Will your parents notice the beer is gone?” Jack asked, when Cal offered him one.

“Doubtful. Even if they do, they won’t care,” Cal said. “Or, if you want something stronger, they won’t care about the liquor cabinet either.”

“Beer is good,” Jack said. He plucked the can out of Cal’s hand and winked.

After dinner was cleaned up, they wandered back into the den. This time, when they sat, Cal noticed that Jack flopped onto the cushion directly next to his, significantly closing the gap that had been between them throughout the afternoon. Cal snapped on the television and they watched some mindless show for a while.

At one point, Cal turned to Jack to make a comment and saw that his eyes were closed, his lips were parted, and he was snoring gently. Cal smiled, pulled a blanket up over him, and turned back to the television.

Eventually, Cal fell asleep too. When he opened his eyes, the television was off, the sky outside was dark, and the lamp in the corner had been turned on. He turned and saw Jack, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, watching him, his eyes bottle-green in the glow of the lamp.

“Hey,” Jack said, softly.

“Hey,” Cal replied.

“We fell asleep.”

“Yeah.”

They watched each other quietly for a minute.

“Today was fun,” Jack said. “I’m glad you weren't mad at me.”

“I’m glad you came over. I like those shoes.” Cal smirked.

Jack reached out and smacked Cal’s shoulder lightly.

“Just the shoes?” he asked.

Cal’s pulse picked up. He took a shallow breath.

“No,” he said. “Not just the shoes.”

Jack smiled. “Good. Cal?—“

The sound of a car engine rumbled outside, and Cal sat up straight, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

“Fuck,” he said. “My parents.” He glanced back at Jack, eyes wide.

Jack stiffened. “Should I not be here?”

“Probably not. I’m sorry, it’s not — it’s only because?—“

“It’s okay.” Jack got to his feet. “I get it.”

The engine turned off, and Cal felt a chill run down his spine. It wasn’t that his parents would suspect anything was going on, not really. But they’d no doubt disapprove of Cal hanging out with Jack at all. They might even forbid him from doing it again, and he'd rather avoid that complication.

He kind of wanted to keep Jack to himself, anyway. For now.

“Come on,” he said. “They’re coming in the front, you can go out the back.”

Cal snapped off the light in the den, and they hurried down the hall.

“My clothes,” Jack said, stuffing his feet into his sandals. “They’re in the?—“

“Got it,” Cal replied. He dashed back to the bathroom and grabbed the still-wet things, then returned to the back door just as Jack was pulling it open.

“Thanks for dinner,” Jack whispered.

“Thanks for the walk,” Cal whispered back.

Cal could hear the front door opening, and he pushed Jack outside.

“I’ll see you—“ Cal began.

Suddenly, Jack tossed his things onto the patio. He leapt forward, and then his lips were on Cal’s in a firm kiss. He lingered there a long moment, his hands on Cal’s cheeks, before he jumped back and grabbed up his clothes again.

“Come by tomorrow, if you don’t hate me,” he whispered, and then ran off into the night.

Cal stumbled back across the threshold. He was dimly aware that his parents were moving around at the front of the house, and this alone spurred him to gently close the back door and then escape up the servants stairs to his room.

When he crawled into bed a few minutes later, he found himself wide awake, his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He closed his eyes, but knew he was never going to be able to sleep.