Page 73 of Refraction

He needed a cowboy hat. He could totally rock a hat. When in Texas….

“I drove that truck everywhere. I loved it. Are you hungry, honey? Austin has some of everything. Once we head to my place, there’s a lot of nothing.”

A little, but he was already determined to fatten Tucker back up. Also, Tucker had bought him a one-way ticket, so he didn’t think he’d be working for the near future anyway. Part of him wondered, in that perfect-world way you do, if there was work for him in Austin. “I am. Pick somewhere you like. I want to learn about your world like you learned about mine.”

“Salt Lick it is.” Tucker drove like he was born to it, easy in his skin as they left the airport. “We’re southeast of Austin, and we’re heading southwest from here.”

It was like the Old West—all prairies—and those were cows. Right there. By the airport.

“Salt Lick. Cool.” He drew a little map with his fingers. Southeast of Austin, headed southwest from… ah. Got it. Back home was so small that if you went southwest you were in New York or southeast you ended up in New Hampshire.

The terrain here was flatter, but the cows were like home. The airport was way bigger, though. In Burlington you just stepped off the plane onto the tarmac and waited right there for your luggage. This place was a far cry from that.

He was very used to traveling either on business or to somewhere tropical to thaw out in February. Something about this—just a visit to another city, driving a regular highway in a regular truck with no agenda—just felt like freedom.

Tucker reached out, every now and again, and touched him, touched his leg, his hand, his arm.

He smiled, the touches were so warm. Finally he just rested his hand on Tucker’s thigh and left it. “I miss the bench seats. I’d slide right over there.”

He wasn’t worried at all that they weren’t each talking a million miles an hour. He used to feel like if they weren’t talking, something was wrong, or he was boring, or something. But Tucker had taught him to listen in other ways. There was a lot to be said, but not all of it needed talking about.

“Once we get done with lunch, you can. We’ll be on back roads, and no one will be looking to stop us.”

Calvin nodded. He’d look forward to that. He looked at his skinny Tucker, examining the harder line of his jaw and the collarbone poking through his T-shirt, and wondered how this was going to work out. The only thing he knew for sure was that it had to this time. It still seemed impossible, but he knew the alternative could well be too much for them both.

Tucker’s heartbreak was visible on him, and Calvin had just driven himself hard working so he didn’t have to acknowledge his own. He wasn’t even going to think about going back to New York until they’d figured each other out.

Looking at the landscape, he was pretty sure he’d have plenty of time to think about it.

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