Getaway

I stared into the open hatch of the SUV trying to catch my breath. I'd made two trips already and couldn't count how many more were still ahead of me. Somewhere in the pile of luggage was my bag, my single bag. The rest was Leanne's. Why my wife needed this much for a simple four day weekend I'd never know.

Straightening myself, I wished I'd remembered to pack pain killers. I glanced back up the sloped driveway to the enormous cabin nestled in the trees. The steps of the porch were bad enough, but I had the nagging feeling that I'd be the one lugging everything up the flight of stairs inside as well. Leanne and her sister were no doubt taking their usual tour through the place as if anything would have changed since we were last here. They were probably on the second story balcony taking in the view of the mountains and swooning over the hot tub like they'd never seen one.

Not me. I was to promptly gather all our belongings and take them in. It couldn't wait, apparently.

I wheeled in another pair of heavy bulging suitcases after dragging them up the elegant log steps of the cabin's front porch. Parking the bags near the sofa in the living room, I took a look around. No, not much had changed. A new rug sprawled across the floor under all of the plush furniture. Maybe some different vases and whatnots here and there. I wiped my brow wondering if the glasses in the kitchen cabinets were actually clean. I was getting thirsty quick.

"Doug, did you get all of our things yet?"

I spun on my heels searching for my wife's piercing voice in the vast main room. I found her near the landing up on the second floor standing by her sister.

"Uh, still working on it," I called up to her.

"Well, could you please get Heather's things as well?" Leanne yelled back down. "I just talked to Mom, they will be here soon."

I was already heading back to the front door and nodded. Leanne spoke in her "polite but impatient" tone so there was no time to waste.

"Guess I'll get their things when they get here, too," I mumbled.

"I'm sorry?" Leanne called after me.

I waved a hand back to her. "Shouldn't be much longer, honey."

I could feel my wife's glare through my back. I hurried back out the door to avoid anymore mishaps. I knew how Leanne was around family.

Just as I reached the back hatch to fetch more luggage, I noticed a car wheeling around the sharp curve in the driveway. At first I thought it might have been Leanne and Heather's parents. This was a sleek red car of a newer model however. I peered through the window as the car pulled in to park behind Heather's Cadillac. It was a guy, I could see that much. He was alone. I could hear music playing inside the vehicle until the murmuring engine shut off.

The door opened and a young man rose and glanced up at the cabin. Familiarity washed over me as I studied him. He swept at the neatly combed black hair just above his eyes before turning to look at me.

A little grin formed on the guy's face.

"Hey, Doug."

"Taylor?" I said cocking my head a bit.

The young man nodded. "Yep. Been a little while, I guess."

Taylor shut the door to his car and came forward to greet me. I couldn't believe it was him. His hair was different for one thing, cleanly shaved on the sides with long neatly kept hair sweeping down above one eyebrow. It surprised me when Taylor extended his slender arm toward me.

"I haven't seen you since before you left for college, bud," I recalled.

Taylor's smile lit up his hazel eyes.

"Two years," Taylor told me. "I've been really busy."

I took Taylor's hand and immediately it felt odd. I gripped his hand in mine but I felt no firm squeeze in return. The way he held his arm was strange.

"Computers or something, right?" I asked him.

Even his nod was different. "Computer science. It's going really well. I really really like it."

"That's good, bud," I said nodding.

Taylor's eyes darted across the back of the SUV.

"I take it you're not quite settled in yet?" Taylor noted.

I sighed. Taylor wore a knowing little grin. Even he saw it.

"Your mom and your Aunt Leanne are upstairs," I told him. "You might wanna hurry if you want a decent bedroom. They usually pick the same rooms but you never know."

"Well, don't worry," Taylor said, "I'll carry my own stuff up there, Doug."

When he said it, Taylor's eyes lowered for just a few seconds. I couldn't place why, but it made me feel odd.

"I didn't even know you were coming," I said.

Taylor waved his hand down his side. "Finally a grown up now, I guess. Mom invited me for fall break."

"Cool," I said. "Might be nice to have another guy to hang out with. Your grandpa is usually passed out by seven. I've been kind of the only one since, uh...."

Shit, Doug,

I thought.

"Since my Dad left," Taylor finished. "Hopefully I'm better company."

Taylor still wore his little smirk that somehow lit up his entire face. He didn't seem bothered at all.

"Listen, I'm gonna go say hi to Mom and Aunt Leanne," Taylor told me, "then maybe I can come back and give you a hand."

I waved him off. "Don't worry about me, bud. Go catch up. When your grandparents get here we're going out to eat."

"Well then don't work up too much of a sweat, big guy," Taylor said already turning toward the cabin.

Balking at that response, I simply watched Taylor leave. I couldn't believe how grown up he seemed. He was a bit taller for sure, and well groomed. A little too well groomed, but that wasn't unusual. He'd always been a bit of a clean freak. Something about him felt more mature. His collared shirt and pants seemed neat, professional, and fit perfectly to his body.

I couldn't help but notice the way he carried himself up the porch. It was a lot stranger since I'd known the boy since he was young. He didn't so much climb the steps as much as he swayed to the top.

I shrugged to myself. The younger generations were always so different.

****

Of course the trip into town had been a chore. I'd expected no better.

After finally settling on a restaurant, we'd waited nearly an hour for a table. This came as no surprise to me. It was the busiest hour for dinner when everyone was out on the town. The six of us waited outside away from the sea of people inside the building. I actually thought it was nice. The air was just cool enough to really enjoy. After the long drive to the cabin and racing around getting cleaned up for dinner, it felt nice to sit outside and relax.

Leanne didn't share those sentiments. She was the only woman I knew that could "politely" make a scene. After about half an hour's wait she'd started pestering the hostess incessantly. Heather had gotten her under control thankfully. Which was far more than I could do. I leaned on a cedar post of the steakhouse watching my wife and her family chatting. Taylor was in the middle of the women, no doubt discussing his time at college. Leanne's mother seemed to not join in the conversation at all, but that didn't surprise me much. Still, it seemed like she kept her distance from Taylor in particular.

I watched Taylor talking to my wife. I couldn't figure out why I kept staring at him. Something about him looked so clean, or smooth, or unblemished. Maybe I was just so used to being around people my age. Every guy I worked with had a beard or mustache and dressed so rugged. Taylor reminded me of someone on the cover of a magazine. He was fashionable but in a very modest way.

That wasn't it though. Something was out of place.

"Shame, isn't it?"

I glanced over at Paul, Leanne's father. I hadn't realized he was standing beside me.

"What's that?" I asked.

Paul gave a little nod in the direction of the rest of the family.

"Boy like him turning out like that."

I looked at Paul who stared ahead at Taylor. That familiar matter of fact tone lined the old man's voice while he chewed his tongue. Paul himself was a well dressed man, but was so clearly from a different time period with his sweater vest and pressed pants.

I shrugged. "Seems like he's doing fine to me. College was never my thing but I'm happy for him. Got his priorities straight and all."

Paul scoffed and turned his icy eyes toward me for the first time.

"You really don't see it." Paul stated it instead of asking.

I was about to respond when the weight of it fell right on top of me. I looked back at Taylor and wondered how it hadn't dawned on me sooner. Taylor was discussing something excitedly with his mother and my wife. I watched how his hands traced out his words, his elbows tucked in close. I saw how smooth and full of color his cheeks were. Even when he smiled, his lips would form the expression in such an oddly feminine way.

"That's just one of the pitfalls of not having a father in the house," I heard Paul say. "No young man should be painting his face like that."

I didn't respond. I was still staring dumbfounded at Taylor.

Our table was called and the rest of my family began to head inside.

Throughout the meal I spoke very little. Not that there was much interesting being discussed. Leanne and her sister were busy trading tales about the summer. Every now and then Nancy, my wife's mother, would interject and ask questions. I scarcely heard a word. Much of the time I stared at my food in a daze.

I couldn't help stealing glances across the table at Taylor. His black hair was gelled to the side just slightly. Now I could see that he must have been wearing makeup, though it wasn't near as noticeable as Paul had made it out to be. Taylor was wearing foundation that made his skin a blend of caramel and vanilla. Subtle colors made his cheeks flushed and contoured. The boy's face was utter perfection. His eyes may have been ever so slightly shadowed, though I couldn't honestly tell. His lashes were definitely darker than most, but again the effect was faint enough as to be indiscernible.

A few times we met eyes from across the booth. Each time I'd glance away. I didn't know why but it felt wrong to be caught looking at him. More than once I saw a narrow glare from Paul directed at Taylor when he would talk. The guy had a stiff upper lip to begin with, but it was definitely on display when his attention was on Taylor.

I was still in disbelief. How had I not known? With as much as Leanne gossiped about every little thing? What was more odd is that I couldn't even decide what I thought about it. Of course I didn't mind. That sort of thing was Taylor's choice and his business. Clearly my father-in-law had made up his mind. In my own head, I was still just surprised... but it was more than that. I certainly wasn't disgusted, but nor did I feel proud or overjoyed. It was stranger than that.

I was intrigued.

After what seemed like hours Leanne and I were riding home from the restaurant in our little family convoy of cars. Taylor was in his mother's vehicle, and Leanne's parents drove separately as well. I drove mostly in silence while Leanne ran down a laundry list of activities and events I should expect over the weekend. It wasn't the giddy girlish tone she'd been using with Heather. I was receiving my marching orders.

"And I know that Heather is always really excited about the horseback riding, so we have to make sure we're up early on Sunday," Leanne went on. "Especially since that is her actual birthday. Hopefully Taylor isn't still afraid of riding. Ugh... he was thrown that one time and poor Heather hasn't been able to enjoy it as much ever since. He seems capable now though. I mean he isn't twelve anymore."

I cut in without thinking.

"Did you know that he was... like he is?" I blurted.

Leanne's blonde curls bounced past her shoulder when she turned to look at me. For a few seconds she seemed confused.

"How he... what, that he's gay?"

I just looked back at her.

Leanne gave me a bored expression. "Doug. Are you serious? I told you that over a year ago. Do you not remember when we were at the Anderson's cookout on the fourth of July?"

I shrugged. I knew that I didn't remember much about the cookout for many reasons.

"Gosh, he told Heather a long time ago," Leanne emphasized. "They didn't let anyone know for months. She told me on the phone when she called on the Fourth from Gulf Shores. How do you not remember this?"

Leanne sounded so shocked and disappointed. It made me lose interest in joining the conversation.

"Look, whatever you do, please don't make that an issue while we're up at the cabin," Leanne told me. "It's his first year getting to join the adults here and I don't want him feeling like an outcast."

I contained my sigh. "I don't think I'm the one to worry about."

"I'm sorry?"

I shook my head. "Nevermind. It's nothing... trust me, I'm totally fine, I just... I haven't seen him in so long."

"Well, don't forget to stop up here for wine," Leanne said. "And I told Dad I'd get his precious scotch for him."

****

Staring out at the night sky, I wished I could enjoy it alone.

The town below was a dim glow, but was no match for the majesty of the twilight night and the shining white moon. Under that glow I could see the blanket of treetops rolling out below the balcony of our cabin for miles. It was my favorite thing about the mountains; the isolation. The feeling of being removed from the hustle of civilization.

Except I wasn't entirely removed.

Every time Leanne or Heather would bark out laughter, it would blast through the evening like a train horn. The sisters were having a good time reminiscing and finding the bottoms of their wine glasses. Even Nancy was joining in and elaborating more on stories from the girls' childhood. It should have been a wholesome scene, but it just felt off to me. I only saw Leanne this way around other people. Most often, like now, I was on the outside looking in.

Instead I was on the opposite end of the large balcony seated near Paul. Between us was a small table with a half empty bottle of the most expensive scotch I'd ever had to buy. I was all for hoping the older man would start to doze early so that I could drink my way down the bottle and get my money's worth.

"I really don't understand why you haven't moved into actually buying houses," Paul pressed me. "You could do the same thing you do now and remodel them, sell them for so much more and make profit."

I took a deep sip of the burning scotch in my hand.

"I'm happy doing what I do," I responded. "I don't really want to get too involved in all the logistics. I mean I'm a craftsman at heart. I'd rather make one room in a house look phenomenal than take a horrible house and only be able to make it just fine."

Paul scoffed. "People are paying good money for what you call

fine

right now. At some point you have to be interested in advancement? You're leaving a lot of good money out there. Something you could use more of."

I rubbed my chin. I was starting to fear I'd need stitches for all the bite marks that were deepening in my tongue. The scotch was starting to go down faster. Paul wasn't exactly bad company, but the last thing I wanted to do on a weekend vacation was discuss my job.

I was pouring more scotch in my tumbler when Taylor walked out. I initially just glanced up when he came out of the cabin door. My double take lasted quite a bit longer.

All of us had changed into comfortable clothes, but Taylor was really dressed down. He padded on bare feet across the deck of the balcony, wearing only a tank top and a pair of shorts.

"Oh, lord god," I heard Paul grumble.

I could see the source of the old man's distaste. Taylor wasn't wearing any common pair of shorts. They were some shade of bright blue, and not what Paul would call a "manly" blue. Nor did they come anywhere close to his knees. Instead, they were so short that one could hardly call them "shorts" at all, and fit so snugly that I could see the outline of his entire ass.

"I tell ya," Paul muttered to me. "Heather sure has a lot on her hands."

I said nothing. All I could do was watch Taylor. He'd approached his mother and my wife and was telling them something. He was facing away from Paul and I. The group was laughing. I heard none of what was said.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from Taylor's ass.

There wasn't much I could compare it to. I'd not stared at many men's backsides. Taylor's cheeks bulged atop his legs, seemingly too much for his little shorts to contain. While he spoke to Leanne and the other women, he'd shift his weight from one foot to another. This caused each ass cheek in turn to crease and swell like a squeezed water balloon. Once I thought I saw the bottom of his flesh slide free from his shorts to peek out. Taylor pulled at his tank top as he laughed at something his grandmother said, but the small shirt was barely enough to cover his midsection. It certainly wouldn't be enough to cover his shorts.

I set the bottle of scotch back on the table and sat back in my chair, pretending to listen to Paul as he spoke.

"I don't know what John would think," Paul muttered. "But it's honestly his own doing. I'd like to think that if he'd never left, Heather would have a much easier time...."

I wasn't paying attention. I nodded my head casually and quietly sipped from my glass. Occasionally I'd glance over at the old man even though he never looked at me. Paul's droning complaints whirled around me though. All I was really doing was keeping the appearance that we were chatting.

So that no one would notice me staring at Taylor.

It even sounded crazy in my head. I'd known him forever. Sure, he was in his twenties, but that shouldn't have made a difference. I wasn't even... like that. I'd never really thought about anything close. I realized I didn't have an opinion one way or the other like the rambling man beside me. Then why was I staring at Taylor? Why did I look at him differently at all?

I was reminded why when Taylor stepped over toward the log rail of the balcony and leaned ever so slightly to stare out at the view. The lights from the cabin were enough to see it. Taylor's back was arched in such a way that his bulbous ass now jutted outward and upward.

Scotch dripped at the corners of my lips when I took my next swallow. Those tight blue shorts rode up Taylor's skin a mere inch. It was plenty to glimpse just the undersides of his ass cheeks. I shifted in my seat and realized I felt a pulse quickening in my shorts. I shot a glance at Paul to see if the old man had noticed the way I was acting. He was looking off in another direction still talking about Heather's ex-husband.

Meanwhile I fought down the bulge in my shorts. And why? Still my eyes darted across the smooth thighs and thick ass of the boy leaning over the balcony. I couldn't even pinpoint what was so enticing about that sight. It looked nothing like a woman's wide backside, and yet Taylor's meaty rump stole my breath. Though I chased the thoughts out of my head, it was like I could feel the flesh in my sweaty palms.

"Doug? Hello?"

Leanne's shrill voice grew in volume. She'd been calling my name.

"Y-yeah babe?"

There was a second or two of hesitation from my wife before her "polite" smile opened on her face.

"Uh, Heather and I are finished with this bottle," She informed me. "Would you care to grab us another?"

As if programmed, I set my glass down and rose from my seat. The group had gotten considerably quiet, but I ducked into the cabin door without meeting eyes with any of the girls.

Flipping on the light switch in the kitchen, I found another bottle of wine where we'd left it. When I reached to grab it, I had to take a moment to steady my hand. It was much like I was used to. On the surface I was trying to stay calm but underneath I was a mess. Only now, I had brand new reasons to steady my emotions... and my shaking hands.