Page 79 of Our Own Light

It was a hot, balmy Saturday toward the end of August, and Floyd was helping Effie clean up from their late lunch. Soon, Ollie would be coming over, not to play checkers or to listen to some of Floyd’s banjo playing, but to come with Floyd and his family to James Donohue’s house, where there was to be a special summer event. Floyd was real excited for it. James said they’d have ice cream and a magician and a puppet show and all sorts of family-friendly things. Floyd suspected there’d be dancing, too. While Floyd had never taken to it, Effie loved moving her feet to some fast music, especially with her friends from church. Floyd hoped he could see Ollie dance, too, even if it was with Effie and not with him. Ollie seemed like the type, what with that constant energy of his.

While Floyd was putting the ceramic bowls back in the cupboard, he started chuckling to himself as he thought about Ollie’s seemingly endless energy. It wasn’t only that Ollie liked to talk nonstop, but phew, he had a lot of energy in the bedroom, too. Seemed like Ollie kept Floyd up late near every chance he had. And then, many times, Ollie’d wake up early wanting even more.

It wasn’t that Floyd minded. Not at all. He liked their closeness. Over the last weeks, Floyd and Ollie had been spending the night at Ollie’s place more often than not. Effie, the angel that she was, never seemed to mind, though Josephine seemed a bit jealous sometimes. She seemed to be wondering what Ollie’s house had that was so special. Floyd supposed they’d have to tell her something real about it all, eventually. But not yet.

As Floyd put the silverware back in its place, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of upset. It was hard to think about the intimacy he and Ollie shared sometimes. It seemed that the closer Floyd felt to Ollie, the farther he felt from Matt. Floyd knew he ought not to have felt that way. Matt wasn’t there no more. It wasn’t like Floyd was betraying him or nothing. So why was he feeling so bad about Ollie touching him in that way? It wasn’t that he always felt bad about it, either. Only sometimes. Only when he realized that he hadn’t thought about Matt in a while. Or when he let himself think about the fact that what he and Ollie were doing together, he and Matt hadn’t never done together. It made him feel like he was leaving Matt behind. Like Matt hadn’t been special. But Matt had been special. He still was special.

Floyd sighed. And Ollie was special, too.

Knocking interrupted Floyd’s thoughts. He turned to see Ollie poking his head inside.

“Hello, hello,” Ollie said, smiling.

Josephine ran over to him. “Mister Oliver, Daddy said there’s gonna be ice cream!”

Ollie sucked in a breath, feigning surprise. “Ice cream?!”

“Have you ever had ice cream?”

“Only all the time in New York. We were lucky enough to have a bunch of ice cream parlors nearby.”

“What’s an ice cream parlor?”

“It’s . . . well . . . a shop that sells ice cream.”

Floyd cut in, “Imagine if the company store sold ice cream, Jo.”

“Oh!”

“We only have it in town once in a while,” Floyd explained to Ollie. “Fred and James bring the ice and the cream in from a city somewhere. It’s probably expensive.”

“Who makes it here?” Ollie asked.

“Couple of people volunteered to head to Donohue’s early. I participated once a few years ago. It was pretty fun. We made a batch with strawberries.”

Josephine squealed. “It was the best.”

Ollie raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you haven’t had it since?”

“No, not since I was five,” Josephine answered. “Mama said it’ll be even better this year. They’re making it with maple syrup!”

“Sounds tasty,” Ollie confirmed.

For some reason, this made Floyd start thinking ’bout the time Ollie had called him tasty, and then suddenly it was way, way too warm inside the house.

“Well, let’s head over,” he said, hoping to rid himself of the filthy thoughts.

“Just a minute,” Effie said, drying her hands. “I need to fetch my hat from the back room.”

Ollie walked over to Floyd and touched the top of his head, ruffling his hair a bit.

“What about you?”

“I suppose I can’t be the only one without a hat, huh?” Floyd said, smiling at the way Ollie was still touching his hair. It made him want to touch Ollie’s, too, which had become one of his favorite things.

“You’ll look handsome either way,” Ollie said, finally taking his hand away and turning back toward Josephine, who was smiling up at them. “Isn’t he handsome, Josephine?”

“Yes,” Josephine confirmed. “Daddy is very handsome. And Daddy says you’re handsome, too, Mister Oliver. I heard him saying that to Mama a few times.”

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