I had forgotten how breath taking it all could be as I sat there on the dock. We had had dinner, together, at a small table, dipping our crab in melted butter as the horizon over the bay turned red then purple then royal blue. It was a peaceful and surreal string of moments, great food, a little wine and for dessert the stars.
He had married my sister, three years my junior. That's how long the marriage had lasted. She had been so sweet and so innocent, but as soon as she slipped out from the thumb of my stern father, almost as instantaneous as Kent had slipped the ring on her finger, she had gone wild. The booze, the drugs, the affairs, but after forgiving her time after time after time, she disappeared into eternity leaving him broken and alone.
We had not been close then, and really had no reason to keep in touch, but like the beacon somewhere on the other side of the bay we dined, and Kent had been there for me, when my own wife had lost her battle. It seemed the old adage was true, it did take one to know one. Kent helped me like no one else could. He alone would know how painful it was when you had to finally stop holding the hand of the one thing you loved more than life itself and let it slip away.
I had not seen him in; oh it must have been, five years. He simply showed up at the hospital one day and just sat with me, as Della went through would become her last round of painful chemotherapy. He kissed her on the forehead and told her she looked beautiful, then shook my hand and left. When she slipped away, as peacefully as the doctors could make it, in her sleep, Kent was there again to ease my burden and let me know that yes there was someone who understood.
That was two years ago. Since then he had called and I had called him. We lived less than 25 miles apart but it might as well have been thousands. In the past two years it seemed we had to make appointments just to get together and run.
I had done some dating but found most of the evenings wanting. Somehow from my twenties to my thirties the tables had been turned. I was now the piece of meat, constantly being squeezed and scrutinized to see if I was better than the previous purchase and did I give double coupons. I had come to make the choice to just be alone.
So it seemed that Kent and I ended up spending more and more time together. First, it was an occasional drink at Woody's and a brisk run/walk down the Promenade in Havre de Grace. Before long we started fishing and crabbing together on weekends and once even vacationing in the mountains for a week of rock climbing and biking. Time kept shifting for us; from youthful glow to tremendous heartbreak to comfort and support to now.
Here we were, two widowed men still attractive and in their prime, just sitting, enjoying each other's company and being awed by the display of natural phenomena around us. It was that time of year as summer eased its way to fall. The days were shorter and the evenings had that light crisp bite to them. The muted colors of heat eased their way into vivid depths that dazzled and the air ruffled your skin just enough to make you stop and take notice.
And I had taken notice. The light wind played with Kent's blonde hair as he folded his arms across his chest and just gazed out over the bay. He was one of those men that had always easily been noticed, but the boyish looks and the charming dimples had changed. Before while adorable, he was just one of many young men with teeny bopper cover looks and a white smile. Now, despite the scars of quiet pain, when those dark blue eyes turned to you, he took your breath away.
We had cleaned up the table and wandered back out on the pier, drawn to the sparkle of the water and the song of cicadas. We sat there side by side, legs dangling over the edge, sipping our wine and drinking in the good company and the sweetness of the soon to be fall night.
In the distance music played, the old stuff; music that eased you into it and unleashed your senses slowly and seductively. Kent leaned back on his arms and smiled. "What a perfect night."
I sipped the last of my red and nodded. "Getting cooler now...won't be spending too many more nights out here."
"Great cuddle weather, though."
"Oh god yeah..." I closed my eyes and remembered, god how I remembered. "I miss that. I bought flannel sheets, but that only helps a little."
Kent put an arm around my shoulder and slapped his hand on my chest. "You really need to find someone Joe. You weren't meant to be alone."
I chuckled to myself. "It would be nice my friend, but I'm not going to hold my breath." Kent nodded his head and looked at the water below our feet. "And what about you, buddy? Me thinks I heard the pot call the kettle black."
"Oh man, I gave up forever ago. My needs have changed. I'm too private now, and women...please don't get me wrong, I love women...but relationships with the ladies mean a lack of privacy. It's a natural thing..."
"Two become one..."
"I'm too closed off, I may never be ready for that kind of intimacy again. It makes me uncomfortable. I'm more comfortable with what we have."
"Plus, I'm a cheap date."
Kent laughed. I was so drawn to that laugh; the little dimples of his youth were now deeper and longer, teasing you to fall in them when he laughed. "Listen..." he said. "Hear that?"
I cocked my head to match his. "What? The music?"
"Yeah. What's that song?" He bobbed his head and sang "Dah dah dah dah duh dah...". "I love that!" He stood up and began to sway to the music, moving his feet and his hips gently swirling an invisible partner around the invisible dance floor. It was the Four Seasons and "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You". I couldn't resist. I stood up and joined him, dancing with my own long gone invisible partner.
Before we knew it we were dancing together on the end of the pier, at first just swaying together to the far off sound of Tony Bennett, then to Vicki Carr. By the time Michael Buble's voice could be heard on the water, I had placed my hands around Kent's back and his hands gently took my waist and we danced with each other, an inch of air between us but the sound of the orchestra filling the precious gap.
I had never held another man in my arms, and I don't know why tonight I suddenly reached out and took Kent in mine. It just felt right and he came to me, softly and without hesitation as we stepped together until the music ceased. We stood there in silence, touching but not moving.
He was looking down on the pilings we stood on, and I at the moon behind his head. It felt good to feel the heat of someone else's body, someone who didn't have designs on what kind of life I could provide for them or silently totaling up my plus and the negative traits to decide if the next step was worth the risk.
In the rays of the moon, I could see the little ringlets around Kent's ear that his short hair made when the weather was damp or he got overheated. I wanted to touch them, and tonight I did. I took just the pad of my fingers and grazed them enough to feel their softness and tremble at their determination to be known. Kent sighed. He leaned his face in to my hand and closed his eyes, he too, remembering what it was like to be touched and not scrutinized. He started to say something but I stopped him.
"Just let me breathe...you...a minute." I said quietly. Kent took just a small step toward me, the air between our bodies finally gone. I could feel his warmth, his musculature and the strength in which he resigned himself to just being held.
He slipped his hands tighter around my waist and put his head on my shoulder. I held him close and we slowly started swaying, dancing to the music of the bay, our hearts beating to the slip of the water and surrendering for the moment to just being. I knew I should be regretting holding a man this close, touching his body and him touching mine, but the moment was there and we both needed it.
Once again, a quiet sigh rose from somewhere. I didn't know if it came from me, or from him. All I knew for sure is that for the first time in a long time I was at peace and felt safe, and strangely enough loved. I put my hand on the back of his head as we danced. He nuzzled his cheek into the small where my neck gathered to my shoulder. It was oddly, if that's even the correct word, right.
I remembered the nights holding Della this way, feeling her soft body comforted next to mine. I could feel her heart beat again. I closed my eyes and just imagined the two hearts pumping warmth in the crisp of the fall, and that familiar sensation began to trail its fingers from my lightly shifting feet, through and all the way up to my mind, as I lay my cheek on the top of that blonde hair and just became the moment.
"Joe." At first I thought he was calling my name, asking me a question. His body only held itself to mine and I realized, that like myself, it was just a reminder to himself that it was me in real time, not a love he had lost so long ago in his mind. My response was to simply run by hand in a tiny reassuring circle in the small of his back. He did the same with his cheek on my neck, and we continued to dance.
Slowly as somewhere the music played, the memories faded in a painless glide back into the past and the present became clear. It was Kent dancing there in my arms, his body shifting with mine. It was his strong back that my hands explored. It was his fingers that slipped into my belt loops and pulled me in just a little closer. It was Kent's heart that was beating next to mine and the scent that wafted from the blonde hair was masculine and not light and delicate.
Kent turned his face up to look in my eyes. He smiled as he searched my face. I'm sure he could see the same thing missing that I found gone in his. The pain and heartache had drifted out with the Chesapeake tide. Wrong or right, the moment was perfect. We were whole again and now could move on.
I felt this strange pull, a need, one I was not accustomed to. There was a heat mingling in the dampness that began to soothe me, dazzle me. This time, it was I who inched in just a little closer, pressing myself into him, my arms wrapping tighter, eliminating all possibility of space between us.
For the first time I felt him, really felt another man. Had it been any one else, I don't believe I could have felt such comfort in his touch. I knew this man from the inside, and the gentle arousal I began to feel seemed simply like a completion in knowing him more. As softly as the water below us melded, our lips moved together. Kent turned his face upward towards mine and I lowered myself to his.
I could feel his breath on my face as my lips only needed another moment to brush against the softness of his. There was a plop, a fish naturally jumping from the Chesapeake, or maybe it was the fabled monster of the bay. Whatever it was it drew our attention and the moment was gone. The dance ended and we turned arms still around each other's waist until we sat as we were, feet dangling on the edge of the pier.
