Page 10 of The Finding Series: Vol. 2

“Did you keep coming here after you lost your grandfather?” Roman asked as he caught up to Hunter.

“Yeah.”

“By yourself?”

Hunter hesitated. “My dad and I would come up here once in a while to go hunting but he gave up on it after a while. Said I took all the fun out of it ‘cause I always cried like a girl every time he shot something.”

“And after?”

Hunter’s eyes shot to him and he could see the indecision there. Finally, he nodded. “I tried working on the cabin at first but I didn’t really know what I was doing without Pops.”

“What about your grandmother? Friends?”

“Gran hasn’t really been back here since Pops died. Maybe that’s why she’s looking to sell. Friends? I knew they’d turn it into a place to party or get high.”

“Wasn’t there anyone you wanted to share it with?” Roman hedged.

A small smile tugged at Hunter’s lips. “Is that your way of asking if I had a girlfriend?”

Roman chuckled. “I suppose it was.”

“There were girls who were friends but nothing ever serious.”

Hunter didn’t expound on the subject and Roman didn’t press because it wasn’t any of his business. But if Hunter’s inexperienced kiss was anything to go by, he doubted Hunter’s situation in the girlfriend department had changed much over the years.

“Why resorts?” Hunter suddenly asked as they reached the spot where the trail split.

It was on the tip of Roman’s tongue to brush Hunter off with some flippant response about money but then he remembered the look in Hunter’s eyes when he’d asked about whether or not Roman thought his grandfather might have known about his issues with his sexuality.

“My mother,” he began.

* * *

Hunter felt Roman’s arm brush against his as they were forced to walk closer together as the trail narrowed. He supposed it would be just as easy for him to move in front of Roman or behind him but he really wanted to see the man as he spoke.

“Your mother?” Hunter prodded when Roman fell silent.

“She was always flipping through magazines and tearing out the ads for resorts. The really fancy ones, you know? White sand beaches, perfect pools with waterfalls and empty lounge chairs lining the edge. Every month she’d buy a couple travel magazines and she’d show them to me at night instead of reading a bedtime story.”

“How old were you?” Hunter asked with a small laugh.

“Seven. But I didn’t mind because she’d turn the whole thing into an adventure and make up stories about the things we’d see and do. I knew more about world destinations than I did about Curious George or Marmaduke.”

“Who?” Hunter asked.

Roman sent him a ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ look and then gave him a gentle shove when Hunter couldn’t prevent the knowing chuckle from escaping his mouth.

“Did you ever get to go on any of your grand adventures?”

Roman shook his head. “My mom was a waitress so there wasn’t a lot of extra money lying around.”

“How about after you started building them?”

The tension in Roman’s frame had Hunter wishing he could take back the question. There was only one thing that put that look of loss in a man’s eye.

“How old were you when you lost her?”

“Ten,” Roman said quietly.

---