Taking Flight Read online

  “Yeah, so you’ve said.”

  Hunter sipped more slowly and wrinkled his nose. He’d never understood how anyone could enjoy the taste of hard liquor. And Jake—he’d already emptied the glass with two swift tosses of his head and was reaching for the bottle.

  “So are you glad to be home?” Hunter asked to break the silence.

  “Yeah, of course. Why?”

  “Oh, nothing.” He shrugged and traced a bead of condensation with his finger. “Just wondering.”

  Jake drained his glass with a grimace, and then set it down on the floor. He smiled his usual crooked smile, but there was something off about the expression; it didn’t reach his eyes. “You think I’m not happy to be here with you? I am. I just have a lot on my mind, s’all.”

  Me too, thought Hunter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  “Nah, and anyway, before I forget, I got you something. It’s silly, but I thought you might like it.”

  Jake fished around in his bag until he was arm-deep in a mess of clothes, some of them smelling pretty ripe from where Hunter sat. Finally, he pulled out a small bronze object, which, upon closer inspection, Hunter realized was a humbler version of the genie oil lamps he remembered from childhood cartoons. He turned it over in his hands, examining the filigreed writing barely visible under years of burnish and grime.

  Jake smiled when Hunter rubbed it in jest. “Careful, or you’ll release the jinn. At least that’s what the lady who sold it to me said. Either that or I have a face like a young Marlon Brando, couldn’t tell, it was so loud in the market.”

  “What’ll happen if I release it?”

  “Well, I guess that depends on whether it’s a good jinn or a bad one. They’re just like people, you know. If you mess with the wrong type, you’ll be sorry.” As he was speaking, Jake leaned back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. His eyes twinkled.

  “I still get a wish, though, right? Whether the jinn is bad or good?”

  “You have some wishes you want granted, Hunt?”

  Hunter shook the lamp. If he were still a child, he’d have asked for his parents to stay together. In fact, he had—desperately and often—prayed that his dad would decide he loved Hunter and his mom more than the graduate student he’d fallen for at the university. It hadn’t come true no matter how many times he had asked, no matter how many good deeds he had promised to fulfill. He had a feeling his current wish had a similarly dismal fate in store. If Jake had decided to come home for good, he would have said something by now. Hunter’s eyes burned as he stared at the object in his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand—he did. Jake fit in the army like a peg in a hole; the problem was there was no place in that life for Hunter.

  Maybe he was silent for too long. He felt Jake touch his thigh and looked up to meet a worried expression.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking about my wish.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It won’t come true if I tell you.”

  “All right, let me guess: ten hot naked guys and an unlimited supply of blowies for the rest of your life?”

  Hunter mustered a grin. “I think that’s yours.”

  “Sorry—ten hot naked guys and an unlimited supply of books for them to read out loud while you blow them?”

  “You’re an ass. I’ll have you know my wish was much nicer, and only involves one guy, thank you very much.”

  “Oh, do I know him?” Jake’s teasing annoyed Hunter. He set the lamp down and got up to turn off the light. “I was just joking, baby.” Jake pulled at Hunter’s arm, so he had no choice but to fall back onto the bed. Once he was down, he was glad for the darkness. “And anyway, all that shit about genies in lamps is made up by Americans because we’re too lazy to learn anything about Arabic culture. I should have gotten you something nicer.” Hunter detected a yawn in his voice.

  “I like my present,” Hunter said. “I love it.”

  While Jake passed out in what seemed like seconds, it took a long time for Hunter to doze off. He twisted to his side so he could watch Jake’s face in the moonlight. His lashes fluttered, and Hunter imagined dreams of places and people he’d never met. They didn’t talk much about the war. Jake sometimes told him stories about the guys in his unit or the places he’d visited, but he never mentioned being afraid or what had happened on the day they’d been ambushed at a checkpoint. All Hunter knew was two American soldiers had died and five Afghan civilians had been wounded, and that much he’d learned in the newspaper. Whenever he brought it up, Jake shrugged it off or changed the subject. Hunter had a feeling Jake thought he was sparing him the gruesome details, not wanting him to worry. How could he not know worrying was all Hunter did?

  Asleep, Jake’s full mouth was soft and almost feminine. The combination of masculinity and vulnerable beauty sent a tremor through Hunter. He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with Jake. Even in high school when they’d barely said five words to each other, he must have been a little in love with Jake. Everyone was. He was too good-looking and too nice and too full of life not to love. Hunter kissed Jake’s cheek and lay with a throat full of hot misery until fatigue finally overcame him and pulled him into sleep.

  It was still night when a loud cry startled him awake. The mattress jostled as his eyes shot open, heart thumping. “Jake?” He reached out and bit his lip as Jake flinched away.

  “Don’t.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh shit.” Jake scrubbed his hands over his face. “Dammit.”

  Jake’s nightmares often woke him up, and from their conversations, Hunter suspected they’d gotten worse over the past year. Seconds ticked by, until Hunter reached out to squeeze the tense muscles of Jake’s hunched shoulders. His breathing started to slow, and he mumbled something.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just a bad dream. Fuck, I hate those.”

  Jake sprawled back and flung his arm over his eyes, but Hunter knew he hadn’t fallen asleep.

  “You can tell me if you want.”

  “I don’t want.” Jake snorted. “You sound like a shrink.”

  “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  Jake turned over and welcomed Hunter into his arms. He was warm and just a little sweaty, and Hunter felt their hearts thud together. It gave him courage. “Allie says I depend on you too much. That my life is on pause waiting for you to decide what you want to do, and our relationship is holding me back from reaching my full potential.”

  A quick intake of breath. “Oh? And what do you think?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Jake stroked Hunter’s hair and pulled him closer. “You do. Tell me.”

  “I’m afraid she’s right, but… I want to be with you.”

  It was so quiet for a moment that Hunter imagined he could hear Jake’s heartbeat as well as feel it. “I always worried that you’d resent me one day.”

  “Are you staying in the army?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Why haven’t you decided yet?”

  Jake sighed loudly. “I’ve only got six more months, but what the hell will I do after that? How will I get money to Gran? At least if I stay in, I’ll get a raise.” The flatness in his voice didn’t sound convincing. Not for the first time, Hunter wondered if Jake was hiding something from him.

  “You could go to school,” he tried.

  “I can’t afford it, and anyway, that’s not my dream.”

  “What is your dream?”

  Jake seemed eager to change the subject. “You know, I would never ask you to wait for me, Hunter, not if you’re unhappy.”

  “I’m not unhappy.”

  “Yes, you are. You know I want what’s best for you. What’s your dream, Hunt?”

  Right now, Allie would be pretty proud of him, but Hunter felt like shit. The hard truth of it was he wanted Jake to sweep him off his feet, tell him that his dream was being with Hu
nter. But this wasn’t a fucking romance novel, and Hunter needed to wake up.

  JAKE WAS gone in the morning, but his pack was still on the floor, clothes strewn around; obviously, he’d been in a hurry. His suit had vanished from the closet.

  Hunter had planned on taking the day off to spend with Jake, but after he showered and dressed, he reckoned he might as well go downstairs and see if Gloria needed any help in the bookstore. Sitting around his apartment with the conversation from the night before in his head wouldn’t do him any good.

  Gloria looked up from behind the front desk when the bell on the door jangled.

  “Look what the cat dragged in.” She arched a graying eyebrow from behind thick-rimmed glasses. “I thought you weren’t coming in until Monday, darlin’.”

  “Yeah, well, I figured you might want a coffee break or something.”

  Gloria folded the newspaper she’d been reading and lifted her mug. “I could use a refill. He still sleeping?”

  “He’s at his gran’s.”

  “You didn’t go with him?”

  “Nah. Thought I’d give them some time to catch up.” It was a nice lie, anyway.

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet as pie? I’m sure Madeline’s happy to have her boy home. I still remember when Greg got out of the service, though it was years ago. Nothing beats the relief of it.”

  “Yeah,” Hunter said and looked away. He’d come down there to get away from his thoughts, not be reminded that Jake was about to leave again. From what it sounded like the night before, Jake had already made up his mind. And so now Hunter had to do what he’d promised himself he would. He didn’t have to like it, though.

  A few customers trickled in—a boy and his parents, tourists. On any other day, he might have given them the grand tour, asked where they were from, the whole Southern hospitality thing. Today he only had a pasted-on smile and a hello as they passed by to seek their fortunes among the stacks.

  Gloria adjusted the wrap on her head that held the thick braids Hunter had only seen once. “You want a sandwich, honey?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She tsked. “You need to eat more. Nothing but skin and bones.”

  “That’s what my mom says.”

  “You should listen to her. She’s a damn smart woman, your mother. That university is lucky to have her.”

  Hunter nodded and waved her out.

  He spent the next few hours sorting through recent acquisitions and fielding questions, mainly from tourists who wanted books about the region but ended up purchasing secondhand copies of Midnight in the Garden, even as he tried to steer them toward less potboilery material. At around lunchtime, Jake texted him, wanting to know if Hunter would mind picking him up later in the day. He shot back a quick reply and pocketed his phone, then dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face.

  He jumped a little when Gloria said, “Honey, pardon the expression, but you look like you’ve been rode hard and hung up wet.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”

  “Something wrong with Jake?”

  “He’s staying in the army.”

  Gloria sighed. “I worried about that. Well, what’s keeping you here? This old place? Why can’t you go with him?”

  He and Jake had talked about it at one point, though it seemed like ages ago; they’d even joked about Hunter becoming an army husband, but aside from the fact that Hunter wouldn’t have anything to do in the rural town where Jake’s base was located, there were more personal concerns. Jake wasn’t out, save for to a few close friends, and after some of the stories Hunter had heard, he couldn’t blame him. And it would be one thing for a soldier to be out and proud with a live-in boyfriend, but for an officer, if that’s what Jake wanted to become?

  “It’s complicated,” Hunter said.

  “I don’t envy you boys,” she said, pulling a book off a shelf and adjusting the price. “But things are changing.”

  “Not fast enough.”

  “Too true. I know how it is. When I was born, the schools were still segregated, and sometimes it feels like it hasn’t got much better.”

  He nodded. “Maybe I’m just being selfish.”

  “You’re not, don’t say that. Anyway, now that we’re talking about it, what do you want to do? I’m not trying to get rid of you, but what about that internship with the Daily? You still thinking of applying for that?”

  He nodded. In fact, the finished application was saved on his laptop, ready to be sent. He just hadn’t gotten around to it. Now it made him feel guilty, yet another reminder his life was on hold.

  “It’s due next Friday.”

  Gloria smiled. “Lord knows that piece of trash could use a mind like yours.”

  “Thanks, Gloria.”

  “Now I’ll stop nagging you like an old hen. Let’s close this place up early and go home. The sidewalks are dead in this heat.”

  HUNTER TEXTED Jake to say he was on his way, but by the time he pulled up in front of Gran’s, he still hadn’t received a reply. He approached the back way, skirting around the side of the little house toward the screen porch. Albert, Gran’s mutt, was lazing in the shade of her prized pecan. His tail thumped when he recognized the company.

  “Hey, boy,” Hunter said, scratching the old dog behind his ears. “Are they still talking in there?”

  Albert whined and closed his eyes again, and Hunter headed for the house. He winced when the screen door slammed behind him.

  “Hunter, I know that’s you,” Gran called from inside. “You’re fit to break my door off its hinges.”

  He found Jake and Gran sitting around her small table sipping sweet tea. “Sorry about that, Ma’am. Good afternoon.” They were both in their church clothes, but Gran wore an apron over her light-blue dress.

  “Oh don’t ‘ma’am’ and ‘good afternoon’ me please. We’re family.” She stood, steadier now on her feet than she’d been since her stroke a year before. She was a tiny, wrinkled woman with fastidiously dyed brown hair, but she enveloped him in a strong hug that contrasted with her frail appearance. “Now sit down and let me fix you something to eat.”

  “Gran,” Jake said, “you don’t have to worry yourself about us. The doctor said—”

  “The doctor ain’t worth the salt in my bread.” She turned back to Hunter. “That man would have me packed up like a sardine in that home with all the other old folks, but I tell you I’m fine right here.”

  “Of course you are, Ma’am.”

  “Now I’ve got cold chicken left over and some biscuits on the counter. You sit, and you eat.”

  While Gran got a plate together, Hunter did as he was told. “How’s it going?” he asked.

  Jake shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Pretty good. If Gran would sit down for a minute.” He loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons of his shirt, and Hunter’s eyes immediately sought out the patch of revealed skin. He imagined tonguing the hollow right at the base of Jake’s throat. His mouth watered.

  “I heard that, Jacob Thomas. And be careful tipping that chair, you’ll break your head open.”

  Jake rolled his eyes, but even so, he set his feet back on the floor.

  “So what all have you two been up to today?” Hunter asked. “Trouble?”

  Gran answered, though the question had been directed at Jake. “We went to Mass, and I prayed to the good Lord to give this fool here some sense.”

  “You think it’ll work?”

  Jake shot him a warning glance. “Gran—”

  “Now listen.” She turned around and pointed to Jake with the knife she’d been using to cut the roast chicken. “I’ve seen a husband and son go before their time, and I raised this one on my own, yet this boy thinks he knows better than me.”

  Jake’s face paled. Most long-time residents knew about the head-on collision that had happened when Jake was only five. His grandfather had been driving and was killed on impact, but his dad, flung from the vehicle, lingered for a few weeks in a coma. H
e’d never woken up. After her husband died, Jake’s mother had taken off somewhere, gotten involved with drugs and worse. Jake had never seen her again. He seldom spoke about her, and Gran rarely used the past as ammunition. Some things were sacred.

  Gran went back to preparing the food. “Maybe you can talk to him, Hunter. Lord knows he doesn’t listen to this old woman.”

  Hunter caught Jake’s eye and offered a reassuring smile. “I can’t tell him what to do.” After all, what Jake had said last night went both ways. He wanted Jake to be happy.

  “You men, y’all are the same.” Despite the chastising words, Gran’s tone was fond.

  When Hunter finally tucked into the plate set down before him, his hunger surprised him. The conversation drifted from Jake to neighborhood happenings. He listened and accepted more sweet tea when he was offered. Eventually, Jake’s hand came to rest on his knee. The gesture infected Hunter with a futile sort of hope.

  By the time they escaped, after promising to return for supper the next day, the sky had darkened and the air was thick with humidity. A rumble in the distance announced the approaching afternoon storm. Hunter had loved thunder when he was a child, and that same anticipation filled him now, though he didn’t care for driving in crazy weather, especially when it looked like hail or worse.

  “Let’s try to make it back before it starts coming down,” he said, sliding into the car seat.

  They pulled up in front of Hunter’s building as the first large drops began to hit the pavement with audible splats. People hurried to take cover, some of them fishing out umbrellas from among their possessions. It was probably for the best they’d closed down the bookstore when they did.

  As they entered the building, a clap of thunder resounded nearby, shaking the building. “I feel like going out tonight,” Jake said. He dug out his cell phone and started messaging. “Some of the guys are around, I think. Brian’s gotten permission from the missus.”

  Hunter nodded. He’d figured Jake would want to see his high school friends at some point. They belonged to a world that centered on girls and football—neither topic held much interest for Hunter.