“No rush, buddy. I’m experimenting with the formula for a new drink.”
“Recipe!” Tim corrected with a laugh. “Tom used to teach chemistry at Pulaski and Jasper College here in Savannah.”
We called goodbye to his friends and continued out to where the Dodge was parked at the curb.
“Bye, Tim. Bye, Cris. Thank you both again.” I got in beside Wills, waved a last time, and then looked ahead as he put the car in drive.
* * * *
We didn’t sing “Ninety-Nine Bottle of Beer on the Wall,” but we did play a grownup version of “I packed my bag to go to Grandma’s,” including lube, sex toys, and various articles of clothing. The man had a phenomenal memory, and recited back everything in perfect order.
“…a pair of silver mesh briefs, and…” He took his eyes off the road for a second to smile at me before adding, “…a wedding ring.”
I sighed happily. “Well, you win. After that, there’s nothing else I’d want to bring.” But there was something I needed to know. “Wills…”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Why didn’t you come home early on…” It was after midnight now. “…on Wednesday, like you said you would?” If he had, maybe this could have been cleared up before I’d had a meltdown and run away.
“There’s a rest stop coming up.”
“Uh…Okay.”
He guided the Dodge onto the exit ramp, into the parking lot, and found a spot at the far end where no other car was parked. “Do you want anything?” He gestured toward the concession area as he turned off the ignition and the headlights.
I shook my head, and he nodded, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned to face me. I could just see his expression in the light of the full moon.
“I…I got something in the mail on Wednesday.”
“No you didn’t.” I’d been at home, and all that had been in the mail were utility bills.
“The mail at work, Theo.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
He reached across to take my hand. “It was a padded envelope from Michael’s parents, and it had gone from Virginia to Massachusetts, before arriving in DC.”
“That’s kind of roundabout.”
“Not really. The Shaws live in Williamsburg and didn’t know I’d transferred to DC, so they’d…” He paused for a moment. “I’ve been here in DC for a few years now, and so was Michael.”
“So he didn’t tell them?”
“I guess not. I’m not sure…Yeah, I know why. I got along well with his parents. I still do.” He sighed and shook his head. “Anyway, they sent the envelope to Cambridge, and then Dad sent it…down to me.”
“Got it. What was in it?”
“A VHS tape. The tab had been snapped off to prevent it from being recorded over, and the label on the spine read, ‘Property of William Matheson. Make sure I get this back, Michael.’ The handwriting was an approximation of mine, but it wasn’t mine.”
“It was Michael’s?” The bastard. Why couldn’t he stay out of my lover’s life?
“Yeah, it was Michael’s. I had no idea why he’d done that. My first thought was maybe it was a porn tape that he’d made of himself that he didn’t want his parents to know about. Jesus, Theo. What kind of friend thinks that about a friend?”
When the friend is Michael Shaw, who’d died because of autoerotic asphyxiation, but I didn’t say that aloud.
“There was a note in the envelope from his parents. At the time they’d sent it, it wasn’t quite a year since we’d lost Michael. It was hard for them, and they hadn’t been able to go through his things until just recently.”
“And they found the tape and thought it belonged to you.”
“Yes. They apologized for the delay and ended the letter by saying they hoped I’d come visit them one day soon. Because I was Michael’s best friend. Some best friend. The anniversary of his death was a couple of weeks ago, and I hadn’t even realized it.”
“Babe, you were out of town on an important job.”
“Yeah. But…” But he was still beating himself up over it now. “Don’t you see, Theo? Michael and I were friends from the time we’d met in sixth grade. We went through high school and college together, even belonged to the same fraternity. It was my fault we began drifting apart after our junior year. I’d wanted more than he’d been able to give, and he pushed me away.”
How the fuck could anyone push Wills away? I gritted my teeth. It was a fucking good thing Michael was dead, because otherwise I’d have killed him for how he’d treated the man who was supposed to be his friend.
“When did you get to see what was on the tape? I’m assuming it wasn’t porn?”
“No. I could almost wish it was.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a small TV/VCR combo in my office. I turned it on and put the tape into the slot. For a few seconds there was nothing but snow, but then the picture cleared. Michael was sitting on a couch in what must have been his apartment.” He looked away. “I wouldn’t know. He never invited me there.”