| Chapter 15 |
| Lance sat up on the top rail of the fence, swinging his feet and enjoying the cool breeze. Looking up and to his right, he smiled when he saw that Josh was staring at him. Josh smiled back, reaching out and lacing their fingers together. "So," said Josh, needing to break the silence, "um. Why didn't you ever answer my letters?" Lance looked up at the sound of disappointment in Josh's voice, but the older man had his eyes glued to their hands. When he finally glanced up, he saw the confused look on Lance's face. "What letters?" he asked. "I never got any letters." Josh let out a small breath, relief flooding his senses. "I wrote you everyday." Lance smiled. "What did you say?" "Excuse me?" "What did you say in your letters?" Josh shrugged, ducking his head to hide his blush. He traced patterns in the dirt with the tip of his boots, and prayed that his palms weren't getting sweaty. "I don't know," he mumbled, "stuff." Lance grinned. "What kind of stuff?" Josh laughed, shrugging his shoulders again and looking up at Lance. "Just ... stuff." Lance was about to complain when the front door to the house burst open, and Chris came barreling out of it. He was heading for them, waving a letter in the air with a huge grin on his face. He stopped at Lance's feet, bending over to take a breath. "Chris, what's wrong?" asked Lance. "We got a job!" said Chris, bouncing in place. Lance's eyes widened. "What?" he asked, not believing it. "A job? Where? How? With who?" Chris held out the letter in front of him, showing it to Lance. "This here is from a Mr. Wade J. Robson down in Orlando. He's a scout for new shows, and he says he's heard about us! Says he wants to book us for six *months*!" Lance's mouth was hanging open, and his eyes were wide with excitement. "Oh my goodness!" he said. "Orlando? That place is huge! It's big! We're... we're going to be in Orlando! I just... I, oh lord." Josh grinned happily at Lance's excitement, ducking his head again. Chris looked over at him, catching the smile. He turned to face his brother, the grin still on his face. "You did this?" he asked. Josh looked up at Chris and shrugged with a small smile. "I guess," he said. "Josh!" exclaimed Lance, smacking his boyfriend's shoulder. "Why didn't you tell us about this?" Josh laughed. "Well, I wasn't sure," he explained. "Wade said he'd think about it, but he didn't promise me a contract." Chris's grin had faded away into a small smile, one that Josh hadn't seen from his brother in a long time. It was a grateful smile. Chris stepped forward a little, placing a hand on Josh's shoulder and squeezing lightly. Josh rolled his eyes and grinned, pulling his older brother into a hug. "You're welcome," he whispered. ~*~ "On the boardwalk in Orlando City, life can be peaches and cream. Cinderella, you will find your fella, someone that you've waited for..." sang Lance, his deep, rich voice filling the front of the truck as Chris drove them off towards Orlando, "in romantic, enchantic, Orlando City! Down by the old, New Jersey shore." Chris grinned from the driver's seat. Wiping the sweat from his brow from the heat, he turned to Lance. "So that's the way it is, is it?" he chuckled. Lance grinned and shrugged. "That's what I've heard. Orlando: where all your dreams come true." He sighed dreamily, causing Chris to chuckle and shake his head. They drove in silence for a few minutes, Lance relaxing and Chris stealing nervous glances over at the younger man. After a minute, he sighed loudly, wiping his forehead again. Lance glanced over at him, frowning. "Are you okay Chris?" he asked, worry in his tone. "You look kind of pale." Chris laughed shortly, trying to make it sound light, but to Lance it just sounded forced. "I'm fine," said Chris, looking extremely uncomfortable. "It's just that ... there's something," *cough* "that I" *cough* "have to tell you." Lance nodded, waiting for Chris to clear his throat and take a shaky breath before continuing. When he did finally speak, his eyes were glued to the road, refusing to look at Lance. "Sometimes Lance," he began quietly, "people do things ... things that, well, that they aren't proud of." He wiped a sweaty palm on his thigh and continued. "I kind of ... something to you ... I just..." He sighed and rubbed his chest, starting to pull over to the side of the road. "I think I'll just take a little breather," he explained, patting Lance's hand, "then you and I can talk." Lance nodded, watching Josh and Joey pull up behind them. "Okay," he agreed. "You rest for a bit, and me, Josh and Joey will set up a picnic for lunch." Getting out of the other truck, Josh and Joey walked up to Lance, watching Chris walk off towards a lake in the distance. "What's going on?" asked Josh. "Why'd we stop?" Lance handed the basket of food over to Joey. "Chris wanted to stop and take a rest. We can set up lunch while he's gone." ~*~ Over in the distance, Chris sat down heavily by an old willow tree. He sighed and leaned his head back until he touched bark, staring at the lake a few yards away from him. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the sun made the lake gleam like melted gold. A few ducks and the occasional goose were swimming around on top, while fish nibbled at bits of food from underneath the cool, crisp water. Chris was breathing hard, and he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket to dab his forehead with. Looking over to his left, he could see Joey, Lance and Josh in the far distance setting up a nice picnic spread. The food had looked good earlier, but suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore. And damn but that was a long way to walk. He slouched further against the tree and sighed. 'Why am I so tired all of a sudden?' he wondered to himself. 'Come on Chris. Stop being a lazy, antisocial ass. Haven't you done enough to Lance and Josh as it is?' He cringed at that last thought. 'I am so tired though. Maybe ... maybe just a little nap wouldn't hurt.' Nodding his head with all of the energy he could muster, Chris allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. Slowly, his breath began to even out. Off in the distance, Josh and Joey were engrossed in a deep conversation about how to spice up the riding show while they munched on a plate full of fried chicken Lance had made for the trip. Lance listened with half an ear, mostly just watching the way Josh talked. The way his lips thinned out when he talked fast, the way he would worry his bottom lip when he was excited, and the way the corner of his eyes would crinkle up when he laughed. Lance sighed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He could watch Josh talk for hours, that much he was sure of. Looking behind him, he spotted Chris leaning against a giant willow tree, his body turned away from them and towards the lake. Lance sighed, this time in confusion. He wondered what it was that Chris wanted to talk to him about. What could have possibly made *Chris* so nervous? He also didn't look too well. 'Maybe he's just hungry,' thought Lance. 'I should bring him some food.' Grabbing a plate and piling on some coleslaw, cornbread, beans, and a few pieces of cold fried chicken, Lance headed over to Chris. Josh watched him walk away, smiling at his boyfriend's back. He pretended to listen to Joey while he watched Lance, sighing happily. He was *sure* that if given the opportunity, he could watch Lance walk for hours. A few minutes later, he frowned, watching as Lance dropped the plate of food on the ground and fall to his knees next to Chris. ~*~ "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust..." Josh didn't hear half of the words that left the minister's mouth. He didn't hear Britney, who had come back early for the burial, sobbing to his left. He didn't see the quiet tears slip down Joey's face. Even the slow circles that Lance was rubbing on his lower back while he cried softly was numb to him. After a few minutes, he felt a wetness on his cheek and realized that he was crying too. He reached up, touching his damp cheek with morbid fascination. Crying was such a foreign feeling to him. He hadn't cried in forever; not since both his mother and father died within the same week from the fever. A choked sob escaped his throat, and he turned around, walking away. Lance watched his boyfriend leave with sad eyes. He wanted nothing more than to follow him; wrap his arms around his waist and hold each other while they both cried. He didn't though. Josh needed to grieve in his own way. Sighing, Lance turned back around, staring at the swell of dirt in the ground where Chris's body was laid down, and the simple white cross that stood at the front of the grave. On it, it read: Christopher Alan Kirkpatrick Born 1904- Died 1934 Wise friend and beloved brother Lance smiled through his tears. Josh had wrote it himself. |