The Last Goodbye (MM Romance)

Lorenzo

Chapter 1

~Jude~

At first he was just a gruff, masculine voice on the phone, saying, Hello.

Is this Carter Reeves? I'm calling about a family matter. I was quick to add that last part. I didn't want him to think I was a telemarketer.

A curt no came back from the other end of the line, then a pause. Most people hung up at that point. This guy didn't. What family matter? he said.

I'm calling on behalf of his father, Scott Blakely, I said, starting to get hopeful. Was your name Carter Blakely at one time?

No one here by that name, he said, but for some reason I didn't believe him.

Before he could hang up, I gave him the bad news. Your father is dying.

I heard him take a ragged breath. I don't have a father, he said in a tight voice, the last word choked off.

He hung up right after that, and I was afraid that was the end of it. I failed and my heart sank as I cursed under my breath. I might have found him, but Scott's son wouldn't come to visit his dad after all.

Later on, I tried the same number again, but I didn't even get an answer. That was it then. At least I hadn't told Scott what I was trying to do. This way I could spare him the disappointment of knowing his son didn't want to see him.

Two days later, my sense of defeat was proven wrong.

Scott was resting, and I was straightening up around the house. My mom worked for Scott as a maid, but both of us were busy taking care of him now that he was so sick. I didn't have many domestic skills, but I wanted to take as much work off her hands as I could.

It was midday when I happened to look out the front windows. A blue, eighties Dodge Charger was parked on the street in front of the house. Going close to the window for a better look, I saw a gorgeous young guy sitting in the driver's seat. He might have been anybody, but my heart jumped in my chest as soon as I set eyes on him.

I was probably wrong but I had to know. I rushed out. The slam of the door and the squeak of the gate announced my approach as I practically ran to him, too eager, dying to know if that was really him and so afraid that I was wrong. The young guy sitting behind the wheel was obstinately looking straight ahead even as I went out to him so noisily.

As I approached him, I was thinking that he might just be some random guy who happened to park in front of this old, rundown house. Scott's house was a former mansion in need of some TLC. It was as likely place to park as any.

Though I stared at him eagerly as I went closer, when it came to trying to recognize Scott's son, I had nothing to go by. No pictures, no video, not even one word from Scott to tell me what his son might look like.

The looks of the guy sitting in the car didn't give me any clues. His didn't have Scott's dark brown hair or his dark eyes. This guy was beautiful, not a word I would have used for Scott even when he was in good health much less now that he was wasting away, in the last stages of lung cancer.

The guy in the car had broad shoulders and wavy, light brown hair, cut short. When I got closer, I stared at his piercing blue-gray eyes, a sharp jaw and a mouth that would be kissable if it wasn't drawn into a stern, angry line. His eyes weren't too friendly either.

I looked away from the forbidding sight of his handsome face and ended up taking in the state of his car. The car was blue but the color was faded, the paint worn in places, showing through to a dull gray. There was dust on the hood and dirt on the wheels. It was an old car that showed every sign of a long, nonstop drive.

The grimy driver's side window stood half open, and I leaned down to speak to the guy sitting behind the wheel. Are you him? I mean, are you Carter Reeves? I asked tentatively, ready to hear a no.

Now that I stood so close and spoke to him, he finally turned to face at me, but he still wouldn't answer. He looked me up and down coldly. Then his eyes rested on my face questioningly, like he was trying to figure out who I was and why I was there.

My name is Jude Langstrom. I work for your dad. Your father is inside if you want to see him, I said and stared at him hopefully.

So he isn't dead yet? the guy said pretty much confirming that he was Scott's son. His eyes had narrowed and his voice sounded too calm and even considering what he just said.

No, I said a little unsettled by the way he asked that. You can come in and... I started to offer but he cut me off.

That's too bad, he said and I heard the same tightness in his voice I had heard over the phone. The overriding emotion was anger but there was more. I was sure of it.

Too bad I didn't get the chance to dig deeper. Carter Reeves shifted in his seat. His hand reached out for the ignition and he started up the car.

I said, Wait, over the rumble of the engine as I watched him put the car in gear. He ignored me and turned the wheel. My hand was still raised stupidly as the car pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the road.

I stood there staring down the tree-lined street, trying to figure out what just happened. At least I was pretty damn sure that was him, Scott's son. And he came after all. Of course he just drove away without seeing his dad, but he wouldn't be driving out of town after coming all this way. Would he?

Without delay, I got on the phone with my best friend, Tara. He came. Scott's son. He came.

So how is it going? she asked.

It's not. He left as soon as he came, I told her and sighed.

That's a bummer.

Maybe things could still work out. The number I called was in California. He wouldn't come all this way then leave town. I could be wrong, but I want to go and look for him. Can you give me a ride after work? I asked her. Tara worked in a bookstore, and I had to stick around here for a while too. My mom was out shopping, and I didn't want to leave Scott alone.

I'll drop by. You know where to look for him? she asked.

I wish. The last time Scott's son lived here was ten years ago, when he was nine. I doubt there are any old friends he might stay with. He doesn't have any other family in town. I think he'll stay at a motel maybe? I guessed.

Tara made an unhappy noise. Sounds super. I was dying to spend my evening driving you around on a wild goose chase.

It's a date then, I said as I hung up. Tara might be grouchy, but I knew she would come through.

She was right though. We might end up wasting our time if Carter Reeves left town. Still, I couldn't give up now that he was practically on his father's doorstep.

After weeks of scouring the internet and finding nothing, I had finally tracked down some information on Carter's maternal grandmother in California. When I couldn't get in touch with her, I thought the trail had gone cold. But then Carter's name popped up as one of the recipients of some prestigious scholarship. I called and emailed everyone connected to his school. I couldn't believe my luck when one of his former high school teachers took pity on me and gave me his phone number.

All of that couldn't have been for nothing. There was no way Scott's son drove all the way here, practically to the other side of the country and then turned right around and left again. I held on to that thought as I went back into the house.

I stopped right in the doorway and looked around. Idly, I wondered what Scott's son thought of the place. It was in pretty bad shape. Right off the bat, the front porch made a bad impression. The wood had grayed from the elements. I didn't know much about it, so I wasn't sure if the wood needed to be replaced or if it could be restored.

The house had been in need of painting for years. The yard was a mess. Inside, leaks stained the ceiling and warped the floor in places. Faucets dripped and windows were stuck. Scott could have hired someone to get things fixed up, or he could have done some of the work himself before he got sick. So why didn't he? Why did a guy who seemed so capable and who had the money let his house fall into this state of ruin? That was one part of the puzzle. Scott's son was another.

Other houses around here weren't like this one. Lined up along Dodd Street, the houses were impressive, the yards meticulous with trimmed lawns and hedges and professionally maintained gardens. If it wasn't for the size of the place, you wouldn't think a man with money lived here at number 379.

After we started living here, Mom and I did what we could to spruce up the place. That's why the front view showed the rundown mansion with the garden tamed a little by my mom with a little help from me. We still had plenty of work to do in the back where the garden had been allowed to go wild. I was ready to take a machete to the jungle in the back, but Mom wanted to rescue the plants, not cut them down. She was softhearted like that.

Sometimes I wondered why we worked so hard on improving things even as Scott lay dying. Whatever we did, he wouldn't be around for long to enjoy it. Scott pointed out the same thing to us and told us to let it be and relax. He didn't actually stop us though, and in the end he always relented.

Do as you like, he would say in a voice that was both amused and resigned. But sometimes when he saw the results of our work, he smiled. Maybe that's why we did it, for those rare smiles from a dying man.

Going back inside the house, walking on those creaking, old wooden floors, I tried to get a grip on myself. I couldn't let Scott see the mix of fresh excitement and disappointment on my face. I didn't want to tell him what happened, not that I really understood it myself.

I had contacted Scott's son without his knowledge or his Ok. Now the last thing I wanted to admit was that after I found Scott's only son and he came here, he didn't even make it to the front door. To me it was frustrating, to Scott it might be devastating.

My mom was out doing some grocery shopping. That was a stroke of luck. She didn't know what I had been up to either. My mom started working for Scott around two years ago, and then he asked us to move in a little after that. That was a good thing now that he was sick.

I helped my mom take care of him, but for me, it wasn't a job. I felt an obligation to Scott Blakely. He saved me from trouble that I mostly brought on myself. He went above and beyond, and I owed him for that.

I would never be able to repay him for what he did for me and for the kindness he showed me and my mom. He was terminal so there wasn't much I could do for him. That's why I was so fixated on bringing his son to see him. It was the only thing I could think to do for him. So far my plan wasn't working out, but I still held out hope.

Chapter 2

~Jude~

I was still buzzing from that near miss and also kicking myself for not getting Scott's son to stay and visit him. Doing a bad impression of a guy with nothing much on my mind, I went into Scott's room. He was propped up against the headboard of his big bed, sitting up against some pillows.

He greeted me with a small smile as I went in. Newspapers rustled on the bedcovers and I scooped up the one he was finished with. Scott wasn't much for watching TV so it was always pretty quiet in there. In the near silence of the room, I could hear him struggling to breathe. An oxygen tank stood at the ready by his bed, but he seemed to be doing Ok without it right now.

In many ways it was hard to believe this was a dying man. Scott was so steady and calm, showing no fear. Illness couldn't diminish him. There was nothing weak about him, not even now.

Only his body didn't seem to know this. He had been a man in his prime when I met him. To think that a few short years later, he would be so close to dying. It seemed impossible.

You seem distracted, Scott said to me as I stood there with newspapers bundled in my hands.

I was just thinking we should go and sit outside for a change of scenery, I said.

Scott gave me a look that said he didn't believe that was what was on my mind, but he wouldn't press me.

I helped him get up and he stepped into his slippers. Leaning on me, he walked out of the room and down the hall toward the back of the house. Scott didn't like to sit in front, where he was on display to the gawking neighbors. We went into the back garden where things were still wild and the shade was deep and cool. Birds were also in abundance out there, chirping away while cicadas sang along.

I helped Scott settle on one of the benches. He breathed heavily then his breathing slowly evened out. Sitting next to him, I surveyed the wilderness. Creepers had taken over on the east side, climbed up tree trunks, smothered flowering shrubs that my mom was dying to rescue. The vines had even grabbed hold of the gutter and the eaves. Maybe they planned to bring the whole house down.

With everything so overgrown, the house was swathed in an oasis of green, sheltered under thick canopies, its own sad little world. We were deep into summer, so it was nice to have so much shade even if it was the result of neglect.

Instead of sitting around, I got up and decided to pull some weeds. I kept turning to Scott for advice. This look like a weed to you? If I start pulling up flowers, Mom won't be happy.

They all look the same to me, Scott told me.

As my pile of probably weeds grew, I told him that Tara was coming by later to pick me up. I left out any mention of our mission though.

Scott was always glad to hear I was going out. Good. Live a little. A young guy like you shouldn't be cooped up in the house with a sick old man. While you're at it, get your mom to take in a movie or something. I don't need twenty-four hour care.

Mom is Mom. If she wasn't here, she would spend every second worrying about you.

You have fun at least then, Scott told me and managed a smile. Seeing him like that, I couldn't believe his own son drove away from here without even coming in to see him.

Later on, as I took him back inside and left his room, I was even more determined to find his son. Seeing that my mom was back, I was ready to go out in search of Carter Reeves. I went outside to wait for Tara.

As I stepped outside and through the gate, the afternoon was still pretty hot. The sidewalk had been baked by the sun all day, and I missed the deep, cool shade in the back of the house. A text from Tara let me know she was close. In no time, her beat up old Mazda appeared in front of the house and we were off.

We decided to just drive around and keep our eyes peeled for Carter's old Dodge Charger. There weren't going to be too many of those around, but so far we didn't spot any. Every time I considered that he might already be gone, I resolutely pushed that thought away. I couldn't give up. Scott's son had been only inches from me, close enough to touch. Damn. I should have stood in front of his car and dared him to run me over.

Ok, I was being crazy, but I felt like he was so close and I let him slip through my fingers. I was caught off guard, not just by his sudden appearance, but also by what he looked like. I confessed as much to Tara.

So we are actually looking for this guy because he's a hot piece of ass, she decided. There are worse reasons.

It's for Scott's sake. You know he has been good to me and my mom, I reminded her.

I guess, she said noncommittally, but she knew how bad we had it before. So why didn't you call up all the motels where he might be staying?

It's not like I would get anywhere over the phone. I'll be more persuasive in person. And that way I can look for his car too and ask anyone who might be around, not just at the front desk.

That will take some serious legwork, Tara complained.

It won't be so bad, I have a beautiful redhead driving me around, I said and winked at her.

Tara shook her head so that her bright red hair swayed. Her dark brown eyes stayed on the road though. Ugh, flattery. I can't believe I'm helping a blond, pretty boy chase after some jerk, she said to return the compliment, sort of. If he has a crappy old car, he'll be staying somewhere cheap.

I didn't say his car was crappy, but yeah, I think we can narrow it down to the cheaper ones.

Not enough. Gross, grubby motels are not in short supply in Lindsberg. Going to places like that, someone might mistake me for a hooker.

I looked over at her and saw her expression. Why do you say that with a smile?

She shrugged. What? Don't you want me to have any fun?

Driving by a convenience store, Tara spotted a guy we knew and pulled up in front. I leaned out the window to talk to him. Have you seen a good-looking guy driving an old Dodge Charger?

I'm not into cars, Ben said. "Now it's my turn. Have you seen Dave? He owes me a few bucks, and I can't find the squirrelly bastard.

Tara leaned over to tell him, If he owes you money, you're not likely to catch him that easy.

I didn't expect to, but no one has seen him, Ben said.

I didn't like the sound of that. Dave was only sixteen and had a talent for getting in trouble. He dropped out of sight?

He hasn't been home for days. I know that for sure, Ben said.

He isn't home much anyway, I pointed out. Dave told me that his stepfather was trying to push him out. He fought with his brother, and his mother yelled at him all the time. After a day or two of bumming around town, he usually went back home.

Yeah, but Dave hasn't been anywhere else either. It's spooky, Ben said. He was determined to make me worry about that boy.

Maybe he finally left town, Tara said.

He's been threatening to do that forever, but he never does, I said. Dave wasn't one to keep a low profile or to skip town without bragging about where he was going.

He'll turn up, Tara said, but I could tell she was growing uneasy too. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel and her lips were a perfect straight line. She was so easy to read.

After we told Ben to keep us updated, Tara drove away and let out some of her real feelings about Dave. He pisses me off so much. He's more trouble than he's worth. I guess you're going to look for him too.

Might as well. Two birds with one stone, I said. If Dave ditched this place, I wouldn't be surprised. He was impulsive like that. I think he has to be hanging around somewhere. Dave would tell me if he was leaving town. He wouldn't leave without saying 'Bye, losers.'

You mean he wouldn't leave without bumming some money off you and everyone else, Tara added. She was right about that. There was no way he was setting out on a trip out of town without hitting up everyone he knew for traveling cash.

As we drove from one motel to another, we passed my old neighborhood. This was a part of town where convenience stores doubled as grocery stores. The apartment buildings were dreary and overcrowded. There was nothing good there and I had always longed to escape.

We didn't get on Pekoe Street, where I used to live, but we were close enough for me to hear jarring echoes of the past—small feet running down badly lit hallways, the dull thump of my body hitting the door, cries of pain. I tried to steer my mind away from bad memories, but things around this part of town never seemed to change.

The only improvement in the old neighborhood was the Condemned, Danger, Keep Out, No Trespassing signs on our old apartment building. I couldn't wait for that place to come down, but it had been sitting there condemned for most of the year. The place wasn't much different when we lived there, terrorized by my father, an angry man who expected to live a better life and who took out his