Page 6 of The Summer that Ruined Everything

CHAPTER 6

C al made a terrible mistake the next morning.

During breakfast, his father was talking about something going on at the office, and, thinking about the conversation he had had with Jack about exactly what he’d be doing at Buchanan Industries one day...he asked.

Theodore was thrilled, of course.

“I’m glad you’re showing interest and initiative,” he said, slapping his hand on his knee. “I think this summer is a great time to bring you in, let you get your feet wet, as it were.”

Cal stammered out a feeble protest. “Oh. I didn’t mean that I wanted to — I was just curious about how it might work, or what — I wasn’t sure where I would start. I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Nonsense,” Theodore said. “You won’t be in the way. It’s a good time to start learning the ropes. Next year will be here before you know it.”

Cal swallowed back bile. He was well aware how quickly time was ticking by.

Before Cal knew what was happening, he was being instructed to put on a suit and get back downstairs to go to the office with Theodore.

On his way out, he dashed over to Flora, who was alone in the kitchen, cleaning up breakfast.

“Can you get a message to your friend next door?” he asked in a low voice.

“To my friend? Of course,” she said. “What shall I tell my friend?”

“Say that something came up, and that I’ll be available later today.”

She nodded, and he wrapped an arm around her in a brief hug.

“Thanks, Flora. I owe you.”

With one last longing look towards the back door, he hurried out the front and to his waiting father.

The office was exactly as he remembered it: stuffy, boring, and full of old men. There were some younger ones, of course, but they were so annoyingly obsequious that Cal tried to pretend they didn’t exist.

Theodore brought him around to re-introduce him to the important players. He did his best to give firm handshakes, make safe compliments, act like he knew something about anything. He was given a desk in an empty office and a stack of financial documents to read to “get up to speed on current projects.” With a muffled sigh, he started plowing through them.

Two hours later, he knew more than he needed to know about the cash flow problems of a handful of factories in the Midwest, was no clearer on what he’d be expected to do when he started working there than before, and he was even more sure it would bore him to tears.

A secretary popped her head into the office shortly before lunch, her bobbed blonde hair curling up at the ends with a bounce that matched her step.

“Mr. Buchanan?” she said.

It took Cal a second to realize she was talking to him.

“Yes?” he asked.

“The other Mr. Buchanan would like to see you in his office. I can take you.”

She waited for him to button up his jacket, and then led him up to a large corner office on the sixth floor. His father was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, and he was on the phone.

“We’ll need those figures by Friday,” he was saying. He looked up and waved Cal in, pointing to one of the wingback chairs facing the desk. Cal sat and waited for his father to finish the call.

When he did, he turned to Cal. “How did the morning go?”

Cal shrugged. “Fine.”

His father was watching him carefully. “What did you think? Any opinions on what you read?”

“The companies seem to be in trouble.”

“True,” Theodore said. “The question is, any chance they can be profitable? Just your gut instinct, if you have one. Obviously, determining that for sure takes a lot more?—“

“All of them except Ohio,” Cal said.

Theodore blinked at him, and then frowned. “The one in Ohio has the most solid footing,” he said. “Its debt is secured and it —“ He stopped and shook his head, looking disappointed. “It takes time to really understand these things.”

“The Ohio plant is going to be affected by pending federal environmental legislation,” Cal said. “It won’t happen immediately, but it’s likely to end up costing the company a fortune eventually.”

“That’ll never pass,” Theodore said, waving it away.

“Fred Donohue’s father seems to think it will,” Cal said. “I had dinner with him just before school ended and he was talking about it. It’s got Republican support.”

“Congressman Donohue told you that?” Theodore looked thoughtful. “All right. I’ll put some associates on it. Thank you, that’s a potentially valuable contribution.”

Cal fidgeted in his chair, unused to the praise from his father, as mild as it was. He decided to take advantage of it.

“Would it be possible for me to head out?” he asked. “I sort of had plans today.”

Theodore laughed. “All right, I’ll let you get back to your friends. Have one last summer of freedom.” He was relieved until Theodore added, “You can come in a couple of mornings a week to begin to get up to speed.”

He buzzed his secretary to call a car to bring Cal back home, and Cal gratefully retreated from the place he least wanted to be.

An hour later, having changed out of his suit and into swim trunks and a tee-shirt, he threw a towel over his shoulder and bounded down the stairs towards the back door and the beach beyond.

His stomach churned with excitement. He’d done his best to put last night out of his mind all morning, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to stand it. But on the ride back to the house, he’d gone over and over it, reliving the moments again and again until he was vibrating with anticipation.

The memory of the look on Jack’s face right before they’d kissed, awash in moonlight and oddly determined, had haunted him all night long. He wanted to see that look again. Wanted Jack to take control like he’d done on the widow’s walk, or when he’d pushed Cal up against the cliff wall.

Shivering at the idea, he reached for the doorknob.

Flora called out to stop him, coming through the doorway to the kitchen with a large basket in her arms.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Can’t let you go over to that boy’s place empty-handed,” she said. “What would he think of your manners?”

She pushed the basket into his hands, and he lifted the lid to peek inside.

“Lunch?” He grinned. That’s right, it was lunchtime. He’d completely forgotten about eating in his rush to get back to Jack.

“Go,” she said. “He seemed anxious to see you when I called over this morning.” She patted his hand. “Don’t keep him waiting any longer.”

“Thanks,” Cal said. “Hey, if my mother asks?—“

“She’s out shopping. She went to Mystic for the day, won’t be home until after dinner. Your father is going to the club after work. Maybe you have dinner plans too?” She winked.

“Maybe,” Cal said, his spirits lifting further.

If his parents weren’t around, then Cal didn’t need to be, either. He could stay at Jack’s all day. Would Jack even want him around that long? There was only one way to find out.

He made his way down to the shore, his nerves crackling. The ocean sparkled under the sun, waves crashing onto the sand. Gulls soared overhead, crying out as they looped over the sea. Cal squinted against the brightness and peered east.

There was a small group on Jack’s beach, sprawled out on loungers and towels. A transistor radio was pumping out the ever-present music, and laughter floated across the sand. As he approached, Cal scanned the people, comforted that it seemed to be Jack’s L.A. crew and not any of the locals from the night before.

Cal made his way through the spread towels, nodding his hellos, until he reached Jack’s side. The guy was sprawled across a towel in the center of it all, one arm flung over his eyes and the other hand splayed on his stomach. Despite days of hanging out in the sun, his skin remained pale, and Cal resisted the urge to reach out and touch.

He set the picnic basket down and cleared his throat. Jack lifted his arm and blinked up blearily.

“Hi,” Cal said. He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. Jack lit up, coming awake immediately and pushing himself up on his elbows.

“Hi,” Jack said. “Fucking hell, you’re as tall as a New York skyscraper. Get down here.”

Cal spread his towel out beside Jack’s and sank onto it, pulling one knee up to his chest and tucking the other leg underneath him. Jack reached out and placed a single fingertip on Cal’s knee. Cal stared at it, his pulse jumping at the simple touch, and then he raised his gaze to find Jack watching him with a sly smile. With every passing second, anticipation coiled in Cal’s stomach.

Jack skimmed the finger down Cal’s shin, and Cal swallowed. Fuck. If Jack could make him feel like this just by touching his knee…

“It’s about time you got here,” Jack said. “I was getting impatient.”

“Sorry,” Cal said. “I ended up having to go to my dad’s office this morning. I got away as soon as I?—“

“I’m kidding. Seriously, I’m just happy you came,” Jack said. He squeezed Cal’s knee, and then left his hand there, a warm, slight pressure that drew Cal’s focus. “When do you turn into a pumpkin?”

“A what?”

“Like Cinderella. If you stay out past midnight?—“

“Oh. Right. Like the movie.” Cal laughed, remembering seeing the animated film while he was in high school. “Fan of Cinderella, are you? Was it the fairy godmother or the dressmaking mice that drew you in?”

“I’m a fan of movies ,” Jack said. “So how long can I have you today, before you run away from me like you keep doing?”

Cal glowed at Jack’s phrasing — how long can I have you — and wanted to respond with forever if you want me . But instead, he just shrugged. He was about to find out how Jack felt about him staying all day .

“My parents are out for the day, past dinner. So they probably won’t be looking for me until tomorrow.”

Jack beamed. “Excellent.”

He swiped his thumb across Cal’s knee, then an inch along the inside of his thigh. Cal felt a tightening in his groin, and licked his lips. He blushed and his eyes darted around to see if anyone noticed.

Jack pointed at the picnic basket. “What’s that?”

“Lunch,” Cal said. “Flora — our housekeeper — sent it over. Never show up at someone’s house?—“

“Empty-handed. Right. I’m beginning to love that rule. And maybe your Flora, too. Is she the one who called me this morning?”

“Yeah, she was doing me a favor. Going to the office happened sort of suddenly, or else I would have called myself.”

“What did she pack?”

”Let’s see,” said Cal. He pulled the basket over and flipped open the lid. “Sandwiches, fruit salad, potato chips. Enough for everyone.”

Jack sat up and folded himself into a cross-legged position. “Far out. Lemme at it, I’m starving.”

They dug into the pile of sandwiches, selecting what they wanted, took control of one of the bags of chips and a bowl of fruit, setting the food between them. Then Jack called for someone to bring him a couple of beers and pointed out the food to the others. The group descended, and the basket was empty in seconds.

Someone handed Cal a beer, and after a moment’s hesitation, he cracked it open with a satisfying pop and hiss. Jack reached out and tapped his can against Cal’s.

“Cheers,” he said. “To new friends.”

They drank, and Cal relished the taste of the crisp liquid. He wasn’t used to drinking during the day, but there was something heady about it. Freeing.

He smiled, feeling the sun beat down on his face and listening to the music on the radio, letting all the tension of the morning slide out of him.

They talked easily through lunch, on subjects ranging from movies to baseball to politics. They argued good-naturedly about the superiority of New York City vs. Boston, and then Cal asked about Los Angeles.

“Do you not like it?” he asked. “You said you...I think you said you needed to get out, which is why you came here. Why did you need to get out?”

Jack, who had been lounging on his side, his head propped with one hand, sat up suddenly.

“That’s a boring story,” he said. “Let’s go swimming, I’m hot.” He jumped to his feet, reaching down to grab Cal’s hand.

Cal let himself be pulled to his feet. He yanked his tee-shirt over his head and tossed it onto his towel. When he turned back towards Jack, the guy was staring at him.

“Holy shit,” he muttered. His gaze flicked up from Cal’s bare stomach to his eyes. “You’re an Adonis.”

Before Cal could react, Jack grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the ocean.

After several hours alternating between splashing in the waves and drying in the sun, Jack’s crowd started migrating towards the house. Jack agreed that they could use a break from the sun, and Cal helped him gather up their things, stowing the beach chairs in the shed under the stairs.

“I should go home and change,” Cal said, glancing over his shoulder.

“Why?” Jack asked, shoving the shed door closed with his shoulder.

“Because I’m sandy and coated in salt,” Cal said. “I could use a shower and don’t want to track stuff all over your house.”

“I’m tracking stuff all over my house,” Jack said. He peered at Cal, and then, with a glance around at the now-empty beach, he leaned in conspiratorially. “Here’s the thing, Cal. You have a habit of going missing, through no fault of your own. If you go home, you might not come back.”

Cal opened and closed his mouth, and then a smile crept across his face. He was still struggling with the idea that Jack truly cared whether he was around or not. The guy’s proximity started his stomach dancing.

“I’ll come back,” Cal said. “Promise.”

“Good,” Jack said. “Because I haven’t kissed you yet today.”

He rose up on his toes and tipped his face up. Cal stilled, his heart giving a solid thud-thud as Jack’s breath tickled Cal’s lips.

“And I’m not going to do it now,” Jack murmured. “Give you a reason to hurry.”

He planted a hand flat on Cal’s chest and pushed him away. Cal stumbled backwards, his breath coming out in a small explosion of air.

“Go,” he said. “Don’t get lost on your way back.”

Then he winked and ran for the stairs, taking them two at a time as he bolted away. Cal watched him go, his head and heart spinning.

He practically sprinted up the stairs to his own back lawn, then barreled into the house. He dropped Flora’s empty picnic basket in the kitchen and headed upstairs, where he showered in record time, then changed into shorts and a fresh tee-shirt. He took a few extra minutes to make sure his hair fell the way he wanted, slicking in a dab of pomade when a cowlick wouldn't cooperate with water alone.

Then he made the return trek to the house next door, excitement tightening his chest.

The back door opened easily and he stepped inside. The house was quieter than he’d seen it thus far. For once, there was no music blasting. He wandered through the house, walking softly to avoid disturbing a couple of people who seemed to be sleeping on the sofas in the living room. He followed the sound of voices and the clacking of billiard balls into the rec room, where he found a handful of people amidst a hovering cloud of smoke.

Greg, joint in hand, waved at him and smiled with bleary eyes. “Hey, Cal. Want to play?”

Cal scanned the space, looking for a lean figure and a mop of curly hair.

“Thanks, but maybe not right now,” he said. “Have you seen?—“

“He went upstairs,” Joey said. “About twenty minutes ago. I think he’s napping.”

“Oh.” Cal said. He felt suddenly deflated. Maybe Jack’s enthusiasm for Cal to return had been a little exaggerated. Or maybe he’d just been wiped out from hours in the sun and fell asleep without meaning to. Cal tried to shake the disappointment off and decide what to do. Should he stay or go?

“You can go up if you want, he won’t care,” Greg said. “His room is down at the end of the hall. The big one.”

“Right. If he’s asleep, I can hang out here,” Cal said, since he really didn’t want to leave. “But I don’t want to be in the way, so if you guys are sick of me, just say so.”

“You’re good,” Joey said. “Grab a beer.”

“Cal, there you are.” Scott wandered in and plucked the joint from Greg’s fingers. “Jack said to tell you he went up to shower but you should go on up when you get here.”

He held out the joint in offering, but Cal shook his head. “Thanks but no thanks. I guess I’ll go up then.”

The guys turned their attention back to the pool table and the joint as Cal made his departure. He climbed the stairs, anticipation building again with each step.

He wasn’t sure what it was about Jack that made him feel so inept. It’s not like this was the first guy he’d ever been involved with. Cal knew he was good looking, and could be charming, and usually he could find ways to flirt, to take the lead, once he’d established mutual interest. This time, he found himself knocked off balance.

Maybe it was the way Jack seemed to dominate every space he was in. His self-assurance let Cal take a back seat, and while that was thrilling , he wasn’t used to it.

Whatever the case, he had no idea what Jack would do next, or what his move should be. They’d kissed. Now he was going up to Jack’s room, and he didn’t know what to expect.

When he reached the room, he hesitated. The door was cracked open, but the room beyond appeared silent. Slowly, he raised his fist and rapped his knuckles lightly on the door frame.

“Come in,” Jack called from inside.

Cal pushed the door open slowly. Jack was sprawled on his back on the bed, arms and legs stretched wide. He was wearing pale blue boxers and a white tee-shirt, and his wet curls spread across the pillow in a dark brown sunburst.

“Hey,” Cal said. “Am I bothering you?”

“Of course not,” Jack said. He raised his head for a second, smiling, before letting it fall back to the pillow. “I was waiting for you.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Cal asked.

“I think I finally have a sunburn,” Jack said, closing his eyes. “But I’m good. Are you going to stand there all day, or…”

Cal stepped further into the room. After a moment’s hesitation, he closed the door behind him. He looked at the man lying on the bed several feet away, and suddenly wasn’t going to be shy any longer. Jack had made it clear what he wanted. It was time for Cal to do the same.

He strode forward until he reached the bed and then climbed onto it, crawling up the mattress until he was even with Jack, hovering over him, his knees on either side of Jack’s hips and his hands planted beside Jack’s shoulders.

Jack’s eyes fluttered open. “Hi,” he said, his lips curving into a smile.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to kiss me,” Cal said. “So I guess I have to do it myself.”

He ducked his head and took Jack’s lips with his own. If he’d been expecting a fight, he didn’t get one. Jack opened to him immediately, coaxing his tongue inside with tiny, teasing licks. He slid a hand around the back of Cal’s neck, holding him in place, and arched his back so that their chests brushed together briefly.

Cal happily ceded control and let himself be led. He let out a surprised grunt as Jack suddenly rolled them over, taking the top position and sweeping his palms up Cal’s chest, skimming over his nipples and then cupping his jaw.

Trying to focus on what Jack was doing to both his mouth and his chest was overwhelming. Cal moaned softly, then gripped Jack’s waist, pulling him down so he was laying flat atop Cal, their hips fitting together seamlessly. He cautiously laid a hand on Jack’s ass, and when the touch wasn’t rejected, he squeezed the firm muscle lightly.

Now Jack was the one who moaned.

The kissing and tentative exploration went on for a while, as the late afternoon sun began to sink in the sky. Jack was the one who finally broke the kiss. “That was boss,” he said breathlessly. He sat back, settling his ass on Cal’s abs, and began to trace loops and lines across his chest with a finger. He tilted his head to one side. “You’ve got really blue eyes. Like, ocean blue. They’re pretty.”

Heat rushed to Cal’s cheeks, and Jack looked absolutely delighted. He slid a palm along Cal’s left cheek.

“I love the way you blush. I was right about that, the first night.” He snickered. “You know, I was a little drunk that night, and for a minute I thought maybe you’d come from the ocean, some mythic creature who’d offer me a deal: one epic night together in return for my soul.”

“Would you have taken the deal?” Cal asked.

“I might have, the way you looked. Assuming I still have a soul left to bargain with.” He leaned down and kissed Cal gently, then slid to the side, nestling himself against Cal. He draped an arm across Cal’s stomach, a leg over his right thigh, and kissed his shoulder. “Sleepy,” he murmured, closing his eyes.

Cal lay on his back, almost afraid to move. The long, lean lines of Jack’s body pressed up against him. He could feel the guy’s breath tickling his neck, and when he turned his head, he got a face full of shampoo-scented curls. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh that took with it every bit of tension in his body.

He felt himself drifting, dozing. It was okay. He could stay. He didn’t have to be home at all, really. By the time his parents got back, they’d assume he was out, and would not expect to see him until the next morning. There was plenty of time.

Beside him, Jack sighed and snuggled closer. Cal smiled and let himself fall asleep, wondering if he was the one who’d made a bargain with his soul. It was the only way to explain his good fortune.