#chick3

XXXX

Edward had unceremoniously kicked them out, most likely because Étienne, who had been trying to help in the frantic cleaning, had managed to drop the soap down the stairs causing them to turn into some sort of soapy waterslide, and Edward’s eyes wide, had said, “RIGHT! You and Calvin are going shopping for the things we will need, now.” Étienne could hardly look at Edward feeling like a fuck up once again, especially when he caught a glimpse of him towels in hand cleaning up the mess that Edward refused to even let him help with.

He had been trying to make up for the night before, where after an evening of TV where Étienne had felt the words between them widening into a chasm, stretching out across their only link, Calvin, who kept commenting upon the television shows, comfortably sitting between them, his words an endless patter filling the words that Étienne found himself swallowing, words which usually kept hidden so well wanting to spill out like too much rainwater from the barrel, where the small slips of before were opening up a dam of words that wanted to continue to spill until he was empty of them. As he lay in the guest bedroom alone, the words swirling around him a dark tidal force trying to pull him down back under the wall of silence, he found himself getting up, slipping on his sneakers (freshly bought from the shopping trip on Whyte), and creeping out into the night, entering the peaceful backyard, the stars dimly shining above him, the ground fresh and damp, the lingering smell of rain bringing the scent of leaves to the fore, surrounding him in a cocoon of nature. It was dark, but in the city never dark enough that one could not see where things were. He wandered over to the closed chicken coop, and opened it, entered and then closed the gate behind him, feeling ridiculous for this. No doubt the chickens were safely sleeping, dreaming of bugs and cheese.  Sitting on a conveniently placed log, he sat there, staring up at the stars, listening to the breeze in the cool night air, trying to let the words fly away, let him lay down and rest.

His contemplation had been ruined by the swarms of mosquitos descending upon him, and later as he lay in bed scratching and hating his life, he wondered why he had stayed so long. He should leave, book his flight and get out of there.

Which had been his full intention, but after a rather hasty breakfast followed by Edward informing them that they had to help clean the house up before the others arrived (not even explaining who was arriving), they had been roped into the roles, until Étienne managed to fuck up even cleaning. There hadn’t been time for him to even look up flights.

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping,” Calvin said unhelpfully as he backed the truck out.

“Why is your garage so large – there is literally room for two more trucks,” Étienne asked, his mind wandering.

“One.”

“One?”

“Yeah.” Calvin grunted as he finished backing out into the alley, and began to get them onto the proper path.

“Calvin, that fits two at least.”

“If you’re counting in the size of Ed’s tiny ass truck, honestly not sure why he keeps that ancient thing, pretty sure it’s 99 percent replacement parts by now,” Calvin laughed.

“You’re talking as if you know what truck goes there,” Étienne stated, looking at the other man curiously.

“Mmm yeah I do, it would be weird if I didn’t? Seeing as I helped design and build this place? Of course I would know what goes where,” came the amused response.

“Whose truck goes there then?”

“Mac’s of course,” Calvin said.

“Mac- oh right. Why does he have his own garage spot in your house?” Étienne asked, “Can’t he park out front?”

“Leave his baby out front where vandals could appear? You kidding me? That truck probably cost more than our house with how many upgrades and shit he did to it, sure it can probably climb a mountain no problem while fighting a bear simultaneously, but it’s still his baby and when he is in town he prefers to park it in the garage.”

“How could a truck fight a bear?”

“You clearly have not seen his truck, when you do you’ll understand.”

“Why would I be seeing his truck? I’m not going north to see him, I barely know him.”

“He’s coming to us,” came the casual comment.

“Coming to us?”

“Étienne, it’s August Long, he’s coming down with Caroline and we’re gonna have a BBQ and do some fun things-”

“Wait, doesn’t that mean I’m taking up space, I mean I’m in the guest room, you should have told me so I could leave, where will he and Caroline stay?”

“In his room, duh,” Calvin said as if it was super obvious, “His room is in the basement.”

“His room? Basement—ooooh is it that one with the really obnoxious bed?”

“Been snooping eh?” Calvin shot Étienne a sly smirk, “but yes, that’s his room.”

“What about Caroline?”

“What about her?”

“Where is she going to sleep?”

“Étienne, you do realize you do not own the house you have been sleeping in, and you are unnecessarily worrying about things Ed and I have covered, right? Anyways, she’s obviously sleeping with Mac.”

“Why?”

“Because they are together?”

“Wait what?”

“They’ve been together for a while, but I suppose, you just never knew and that’s fine, probably wasn’t a relevant topic of conversation at the time.”

“…but why does Mac have a permanent room in your house?”

“Eh, it’s his E-town crash pad, he lives up north obviously, and it was silly for him to have his own house down here, so me and Ed don’t mind him living with us every now and then, plus, he usually is so grateful he ends up buying groceries for the month or something, it works out. It’s nice having family close by too, y’know, catch up in between the gaps,” Calvin explained, “Sometimes get too busy working to enjoy the others’ company.”

“True…” Étienne thought of his family back home, his mind shifting to the rather strained relationship between him and Samuel, the awkward Christmas dinners, which he had only been showing up to recently because Élyse kept dragging him there. Dinners which when he had better company he liked to skip, but sometimes, when things were as they were, he did go to them with Edward, who oddly got along with Samuel. He could never figure it out, but after the first awkward meeting in the kitchen, when Samuel figured out that Edward actually could cook there had been some silent acceptance on his part. Those meetings had always occurred at Jacques’ place, who was the better older brother, who every now and then wanted the family near him, invited them over for Christmas, allowing them to bring a plus one. Samuel sometimes took someone, more often not. Étienne, hell, he could remember the reason for bringing Edward in the first place, it was because he had fucked up, he had forgotten about the gathering, had promised Edward that they could spend Christmas together and then panicking when Élyse reminded him that months before he had promised to actually show up at Jacques’ place.

However, when he had explained this to Edward, who had already shown up, hence Élyse reminding him, Edward simply shrugged and invited himself over. As if it was no big thing for him to go to some family gathering out east, saying he had meant to practice his French more anyway. It had been the late 80’s and after that… hell, how many had Edward ended up to? Jacques had even seemed to like him enough to encourage Étienne to invite him (he was not sure if Jacques wanted Edward or the Christmas Trifle that came with him), but it was later, after Edward had left him for Calvin, when Étienne had dragged himself to the event, that he realized how much of his life had included the other man. It was during one of those banal conversations dominated by Samuel, who glowed next to his new boyfriend, Frederic, a man who he had regretfully been successful in getting together with his brother (not that Samuel would ever view it in that way), where he had been giving jibes to how Étienne was alone that Christmas. It had started as small jibes, but over the course of Christmas Eve, and over after the Christmas dinner when they had met in the hallway alone, it had gotten more apparent that Samuel thought it rather pitiful that Étienne could not even rustle up a prostitute to keep him company on Christmas.

“Why do I need to bring someone?” he had finally snapped over wine, “Why do you even care? You don’t harass Élyse in this manner.”

Samuel had smirked in an irritating manner, “Élyse doesn’t care for that, we both know it, but you?”

“Me what?”

“Oh, well, I suppose you couldn’t even find someone who could tolerate you to come this year?”

“Fuck you,” he had hissed, stalking away, wondering why the hell his brother seemed to take delight in finding his failures and poking at them with a burning metal brand. He had regretted actually spending some time and thought on getting him a gift, vowing that next time he wouldn’t even bother.

How Calvin talked about family, he sensed that there weren’t the usual tensions, it was people who genuinely liked each other getting together, and somehow that made him feel uneasy. He could just imagine himself when the others arrived awkwardly sitting on the sideline forgotten, the person who did not fit in. He fit in easily in situations, while at the same time sliding through social situations untouched. Was this going to be one of those? He contemplated this as Calvin loaded him up with the reusable bags, and he followed him around the store, blindly gazing at the food. He was scrutinizing the bad French upon a bag of crisps when a voice called out Calvin’s name, a nice feminine voice. An overly friendly voice, and as he looked towards Calvin a very beautiful woman approached him, her smile wide, her red hair flowing around her. Other men in the vicinity had noticed her, and Étienne appreciated her curvaceous form and excellent style.

“Hey Veronica,” Calvin greeted her with a warm smile, “How are you?”

“Darling I’m fine, you haven’t called me back,” she pouted, her body language close and intimate, and if Étienne did not know any better, it was almost as if she was acting like she was his girlfriend. It was the nervous glance Calvin shot in his direction that did it. A soft fleeting glance that put Étienne on his guard, put him to look at the body language more critically.  Calvin was receptive to her touches, and as she straightened his collar as she talked to him, he watched as the man leant in slightly. It didn’t feel right, and when she left, after eliciting a promise from Calvin that yes he would phone her, Étienne was not sure what to ask. You fucking around on Edward there, Calvin? He knew this would be ironic coming from him, and hell, there wasn’t anything that said they were anything more than touchy feely friends.

“How do you know her?” he casually asked as he sneakily put potato chips into the cart.

“Veronica?”

“Who else would I be asking about, Calvin? That random woman being abused by her toddler over there?”

“No need to be sassy; well, I met her at the bar and stuff,” Calvin evasively answered as he picked up the potato chips, “Really? BBQ?”

“What’s wrong with BBQ chips?”

“They’re gross.” Calvin put them back in the cart anyway, and then grabbed the poutine flavoured chips, looking Étienne directly in the eye the entire time.

Étienne broke the challenging stare, wanting to ask more about the woman, but as Calvin changed the topic of conversation entirely, he knew that it would be weird for him to enquire as to exactly Calvin’s relationship with her was.

XXXX

As they arrived back at the house, Étienne’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he noticed the once vacant spot in the garage had been literally consumed by the largest, ugliest (in his opinion) truck he had ever seen in his life. It was the size of a small cathedral, sprawling, lifted high, with four shiny chrome pipes framing the back window like an unholy pipe organ. The back window was tinted, and in the middle, where one would presume the icon of Mother Mary would have gone, had this truck actually been a cathedral, was a sticker that seemed at first to mostly be in hieroglyphics. After a moment of staring at them, he realized that it simply said, “I love Alberta oil”. The imagery was arresting, simplistic, easy to understand if one knew what the pumpjack in the oil drop meant. The truck was shiny and black, the body well maintained, and as his gaze travelled across it, he was interested by the stickers plastered across the bumper, as if it was displaying the scriptures of this person’s religion.

Their favourite involved various designs on the “Alberta Strong” theme, interspersed with: an Oilers sticker, “Warning: is there life after death? Touch my truck and find out!”, “Do you follow Jesus this closely?”, “Does this truck make my neck look red?”, and the final “I love my truck.”

“Why are there so many bumper stickers?” Étienne asked, looking to Calvin.

“…Look, a truck is part of a man’s identity, and this one likes to have it all out in the open,” Calvin attempted to explain as he opened the door to his truck, “I prefer mine with less stickers and more shiny.”

“Why are there literally four more wheels than necessary on this truck?”

“Because it carries heavy loads, it gets put to work a lot, it’s not just for show…”

“Why does Edward allow such a gas guzzler?”

“Actually, it’s been semi converted.”

“Semi – converted?”                                      

“Well, it got converted to one more eco friendly, doesn’t need so much diesel, has an option to run on electricity, but switches over because with all the driving it does electricity isn’t always an option.”

“Why is the exhaust pointing upwards?”

“Stacks, those are stacks, it’s truck fashion.”

“Truck… fashion?”

Calvin seemed more and more amused by Étienne’s questions, “Look, we can continue this while getting the groceries inside, alright?”

“I am not sure if I even want to… I feel like every answer you give me confuses me more.”

Helping Calvin carry groceries in, Étienne heard the voice before he saw the man.  It drifted out across the backyard in loud laughter, the words following, and as he looked up Étienne saw the man reclining in a chair on the patio, beer in hand, regaling Edward with his terrible joke. At his feet lay a very large dog, a husky-something mix, fast asleep.

“Why do chicken coops only have two doors?”

“Why?” Edward’s voice sounded amused, he was relaxing across from the man, obviously enjoying his company.

“Because if it had four it would be a sedan!”

The groans of Edward and Caroline drifted towards them, and Calvin let out a loud laugh, alerting the others that they had returned.

“Calvin!” Edward called out, “Took you long enough!”

“Sorry sorry, Étienne is a slow walker.”

“Excuse me?” Étienne scoffed, “I wasn’t the one staring at potato chip flavours as if it was a life and death matter here.”

“Look, gotta get flavours people actually like, no Mozzarella Marinara incidents, right?”

“I have no idea what you are even saying.”

“Lordee,” Mac laughed, “I remember, thinking it would be good to try those newfangled flavours only to get some disappointing slightly cheese taste…”

“Good lord,” Caroline added, “I tried to block that incident from my memory. Good job Calvin, once more bringing up topics one has no desire to remember.”

“Sorry sorry, let us actually deposit these bags in the kitchen, hm?”

“I’ll help,” Edward stood up, setting his drink on the table, and opened the door, allowing the men to pass into the house easily. As they entered into the cool house, Edward said quietly to Calvin, “They came earlier than I thought they would, I don’t have anything finished… I haven’t even dusted their bedroom.”

Setting the bags down on the table, Calvin said in amusement, “You dusted his room last week, I don’t think some dust monster is about to appear.”

“I know…”

Edward had opened one of the bags and took out some dish soap. Étienne with some relief had set his bags down, not sure if he should help take things out and place them. He had a vague idea of where things went.

“C’mere,” Calvin was saying, as he leant over to Ed and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead, “Mac is gonna be fine, hell Caroline loves helping you in the kitchen, you need to unwind here, this is family, not some major life changing event where everything has to be perfect. Hell if the meat I am going to grill gets burnt to hell, Mac is going to think it’s the best thing ever.”

Making a wry face at Calvin, while shooting a slightly self-conscious look towards Étienne briefly, Edward said, “I know I know, you’re right,” he bustled about putting the items away, Calvin moving slowly, while Étienne awkwardly decided that he could put the milk in the fridge, he felt like some awkward third wheel on this conversation.

“Thank god Étienne was here for all this crap you sent us out for,” Calvin was saying, “I think my arms woulda broke.”

“You could always take two trips for the stuff,” Edward sensibly pointed out.

“But that would involve more walking,” Calvin pouted.

“So you are fine going to the gym to be in shape but an extra walk is about to kill you?” Edward teased as he folded up one of the reusable bags.

“Exactly!”

Rolling his eyes, Edward couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head at how ridiculous Calvin was being.

Feeling a little claustrophobic at this atmosphere, Étienne accidentally banged a cupboard where he had placed some new condiments, making the other two men jump.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not really being sorry, as he quickly walked out of the kitchen towards the patio. At the moment, hanging out with someone he barely knew seemed like a hell of a lot better deal than hanging out with love’s young dream. He was feeling conflicted, he was glad that whatever the past two days were about when he was alone with Edward had not affected his loving relationship with Mr. Perfect Boyfriend, but on the other hand, he had almost fooled himself into believing that maybe there was still something there, that perhaps with Edward inviting him to share a bed that perhaps he had for one moment missed him, but no, the entire time he had been yearning after his blond-haired buffoon.  Some part of him realized that he was being irrational about this, but somehow knowing he was being irrational made him even more pissed.

Caroline was laying on a lounger (where had that come from?), idly talking to Mac while she read a magazine; there was a comfortable atmosphere between them, and Étienne could tell that Calvin had not been shitting him about them being together. Even without touching, he could tell from the body language that they were an item, from the slight way Mac was turned towards her, to the brief glances she kept shooting him from over her mirrored sunglasses, her face shaded by the large brimmed straw hat upon her head. Her legs were crossed, her summer dress slightly caught up probably revealing more of her calves than intentional, her toes painted in a perfect pink.  It seemed almost laughable, the image of perfect femininity talking to a man more forearm than body, especially pronounced because his black t-shirt had the sleeves torn to show off his muscles. On his left bicep was an intricate watercolour style wild rose tattoo, framed by prairie grasses, the style of which changed into something more technical as the roots of the grass turned into pipes plunging into a dark black substance, which Étienne assumed meant to symbolize oil. His hair seemed to be a dirty blond, mostly hidden by a beaten up ballcap with a faded Newfoundland flag on it. Freckles lightly dusted his sunburnt face, one that he could tell easily smiled, but from the lines around his mouth and eyes also had seen a lot of worry. He had some stubble across his square chin, probably a day of no shaving.

“Say, come and joins us,” Mac had turned to give a welcoming gesture to Étienne, indicating the seat next to him.

Wondering why the hell this Northern Albertan man had a slight Newfie twang to his speech, Étienne sat beside him, glad that the patio sun umbrella had been set up to give blessed shade.

“I know we’ve been seein’ each other at the odd meetup, but I don’t think we have actually sat down to have a nadder, ye can call me Mac, and… I call you?”

“Étienne.”

“Geezus, there is no way I’m going to be pronouncing that correctly, I may know French, but those damn aspirated t’s always did me a harm.”

“It’s not aspirated.” Étienne said, feeling defensive.

“Hope you don’t mind if I call you Stevie?”

“Please don’t.”

“Hell, just Englishing your name a bit there, no need to be such a prickle, alright, even though you don’t seem the knitted unicorn tea cozy type, how about we compromise, eh Etsy?”

Étienne opened his mouth to protest this butchering of his name, only to be interrupted by Calvin appearing with a large metal tray with a cover on it.

“You really pulled through with the Taber corn and elk there, buddy!”

“’Course! Can’t show up empty handed, plus I’ve been day dreaming about you grillin’ it up all week, isn’t that right Sweet Pea?”

“He sure did,” she agreed setting her magazine down. “Is Ed still in the kitchen?”

“He’s getting the snacks together,” Calvin confirmed as he began to get the grill ready.

Sitting up, she slipped on her sandals, “I should go help him out then.”

“Me and Stevie here are gonna take Patches for a walk while you’re making the food,” Mac announced standing up, Patches sadly shifting off his feet. Signalling to Étienne to stand up, Étienne did so, somehow hypnotized, shifting as the other man slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down off the patio. Behind them, he could hear Patches give a soft wuff and lumber down behind them, “Can’t be interfering in the kitchen with the lil darlin’s in there, hell last time I tried to help, Caroline nearly hit me with a wooden spoon.”

“Nearly?”

“I ducked, of course,” Mac cracked a smile at Étienne while propelling him out the front gate, waiting a moment to let Patches pass through and shutting it, “Plus with Brisy setting up the grill, figured might as well get to know ya better.”

“Oh?” Étienne responded faintly, not even sure who Brisy was, but guessing he meant Calvin. He was not sure how he was getting pulled into this situation, or why Mac was calling him Stevie.

“Cigarette?” Mac offered.

“Yes please,” Étienne responded, glad that at least one vice was being allowed to get through this long weekend.

Taking two cigarettes out, Mac lit them, and then handed one to Étienne, then took a long drag on his.

“Can’t smoke there,” he explained, “Chuck tries hard to quit, I catch him cheatin’ sometimes, but I don’t rat him out. Brisebois is too squirrely about it, and ever since Caroline quit back in the early aughts, well mainly since we been seein’s each other, she keeps badgering me to quit, but eh,” he took another drag, “man’s gotta be allowed some vices, eh?”

Étienne nodded, not sure how to respond to this verbal assault, just grateful to have someone who actually enjoyed smoking, “So… why are you calling them…?”

“Oh, right, nicknames,” Mac smiled, “Brisebois is just Calvin’s middle name, he was an annoying lil fucker back in the day, and to spite him I called him that, and years later it sort of stuck as his nickname… and Chuck for Edward? Just one of those older nicknames y’know?”

Étienne gave a vague nod, sort of understanding, and took another puff of his cigarette.

Mac apparently had figured he had explained enough, as he abruptly switched topic, “So tell me… Are you one of those queers?”

Étienne was not sure how to respond to this sudden question, so he said, “Yes? Well, I like everyone?”

“This includes women?”

“And men, and… whoever else is a human?” Étienne added slightly defensively, not liking this line of interrogation.

“Finally,” he broke out into a smile, “Hell, I know Calvin likes the ladies, but he’s so moony over Eddy over there he’s not even half a bisexual, if you know what I mean. I’m fine with the queers, well obviously just sometimes I just want to admire a woman and not be considered a minority.”

“Does Caroline not admire women?” Étienne asked amused.

“Pretty certain she does, not sure if she wants to be doin’ the lil ol’ in ‘n’ out if you knows what I mean, but we aren’t sittin’ around admiring a fine piece of ass together, usually if I notice she slaps me on the arm, and I smiles at her knowing she’s right about it.”

“About what?” Étienne asked feeling himself drawn to this man despite the rough edges, there was something about him, at first impressions or rumours off-putting like sand paper on one’s skin, but once you got past the bluster and bluff, you could see the hardworking man, the one who spent his days doing the hard labour to bring the results.

“She’s the best damn thing that happened to me in the past three years and I better not be taking her for granted, that’s what,” he bluntly said, “She’s a hell of a lot better company than the paid ladies I used to consort with, and the men who I hung out with but y’know not in that way, just the men who talked about sex all the time but never did anything.”

“Are you saying she’s your first real relationship?”

“If you mean romantic long term, yes,” Mac shrugged, “I’m not that good with ladies, my skills are lacking, but I think they are improving.”

“Tell me, how the hell did you land a catch like Caroline?”

Mac gave Étienne a sheepish smile, “Hell, this is embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? I’m even more intrigued,” they had paused in their walk to watch Patches gambol over to a tree and lift a leg.

“Well, y’see three years back, she had come up to help me set up house again, my house got smoked out, there was some fire damage, figured hell, rebuild the damn thing, and once it was built up real nice, I gotta move back in there, so she volunteered to help out, being a nice gal and all… and she discovered that I really am the worst of bachelors.”

“The worst? How so? Are you burning water as well?” Étienne asked with amusement.

“Almost, she nearly had a heart attack when she learnt even though I has the washer and dryer I don’t know how to function them, I just gots m’self a maid, and she informed me that I could be saving myself 2k a month if I could figure out how to do this shit m’self.”

“You are actually paying someone 2k a month to clean ‘your house? When can I start?” Étienne joked, “I at least know how to do laundry, food service not included.”

Mac scoffed, “Hells, I don’t need ya now, b’y, I gots me a Caroline. So she decided to train me up, so I knows how to do the laundry now, but with setting up my house, and teaching me the basics of living – y’see I spend most of my time in Camp, where things are a lot nicer and catered now than before where it was a tent and a pit in the ground, anyways, diverting, after about a month in my house, hell I thought she was just there for the weekend, she was helping me get my files all sorted, and she stared at my spendin’ lookin’ at me like I was a lunatic—and she informed me that I needed a woman in my life, and I says, I have many women in my life – to which she responded the prostitutes and strippers didn’t count, a bit harsh y’know these ladies work hard for their monies no need to be disrespectin’, so I seys to her, where the hells am I gonna find a woman that ain’t a stripper or who ain’t married, other than goin’ down to the city, and she seys, hell what about me.”

“That… sounds… romantic?” Étienne hazarded as he focused upon the dog once wandering up ahead of them trying to hide his smile; for some reason the beginning of the relationship seemed almost too pure for words.  

“Well, romantic enough for me,” Mac shrugged, “Count m’self luck everyday I wake up next to her.”

“So… aren’t you afraid of her leaving you?” Étienne asked.

“She’d be sensible to,” Mac sagely replied, “But she seems to be genuinely sweet on me, so I’ll take what I can get while I can.”

“While you can?” Étienne felt like there was more not being said and he was right.

“Y’see I takes it that I may not be the same man now as I will be in 2050, my best bet is I end up like Dawson City, a mere memory but remainin’ y’know? With the oil running out no one will have a reason to stays with me. Ed says I should diversify, but it’s easy for him to say, he’s one of the remainers, I’m just one of those one industry places, flourish and then bam, dead as a duck, so I figures, live it up while I can, while I’m flush. Parts of the reason why I have a place here, no reason to have my own house in this city, my home is up north and always will be, but it’s always good to have a place to escapes to now and then. Hell, part of the reason I gave up being a city-”

“You’re not a city?” Étienne interrupted, genuinely surprised.

“Gave that up back in 1995, I am officially a population centre in Wood Buffalo.”

“Still confused.”

Flicking some ashes onto the sidewalk, Mac shrugged, “Means even when they leave I’ll still be alive, I’m the one with the hospital. Those around in my area, even if separate by distances, will still have a reason to come to me when the oil runs out… well, I hope.”

“This does not help me, what do you mean, what is a Wood Buffalo.”

“Alright, so, view it as a club, I got together with some other hamlets in the area, and instead of each of us having our own mayor, we just have the one, makes it easier for developments if we’re all on the same page. Sort of like a club, still our own identity, but working together with the same governance.”

“Sort of getting it…” Étienne puffed on his cigarette, brow crinkled in thought as he slowly sorted through the explanation, “So you find more benefit not being a city?”

“Hell not all of us can be a cultural capital like you with fancy historic buildings,” Mac laughed, “Your fate is set in stone, mine is in that black sand, here today, possibly gone tomorrow. Hence working with Brisy in developing green technology, even when the oil is gone, gives me a better chance of survival… otherwise… there is nothing for people to stay for up north. At least with you, you have a diverse enough economy that when, say, the bullshit industry goes south you can relax on some cheese, eh?”

“Bullshit industry?”

Mac shrugged, “Pick one.”

“Say, let’s get rid of the mafia,” Étienne joked.

“Ahh right, doesn’t Montreal’s cogs turn on old country corruption and tradition? That would be stripping away half your identity there, bud, might need to reconsider that.”

“To hell with that part of my identity,” Étienne spat on the ground to emphasize his dislike of corruption, “It’s done nothing but make life harder for my populace.”

“I know,” Mac shrugged, “The minute I got money the gangs showed up too, making a killing on my people by killing them with drugs, but you can’t control their decisions, just live at their whims. Hence, work hard play hard. Speaking of which, you have quite the reputation.”

“Oh?” Étienne responded a little guardedly, not sure which aspect of his reputation was about to be brought up.

“Mmhm, heard it straight from the horse’s mouth, well, Chucks mouth…”

“Which was?”

“You are even worse at cooking than I am!” Mac laughed, “He was telling me some of the disasters, trying to make me feel better when I wasn’t feelin’ so hot a few years back, I was glumly laying on his couch feeling like some sorta cripple, and I had managed to burn the toast beyond recognition, so he just sat there regaling me with all the fuckups you did, really cheered me up.”

“You’re… welcome?” Étienne was torn between bemused and embarrassed. Perhaps a little surprised, that instead of his loose morals being brought up it was some innocent topic about something everyone should know, but only those who actually paid him any damn attention knew.

“Eh well, with how he speaks about you, figured you can’t be that bad, even if we do disagree on how to fuel an economy,” he paused to stub the cigarette out under his shoe, and looked directly at Étienne, “so even if we may disagree as to the runnings of things, think we could make a try and be friends?”

“You make it sound like this will be a long-term commitment,” Étienne joked, charmed at how forthright Mac was being.

“Well, if we do it right, it will be,” Mac winked, “Hell, we should be getting back, my stomach is rumbling, the meat must be cooked.”

“How do you know if it’s cooked?” Étienne asked curiously.

Slowly, as if by magic, Mac lifted his wrist, revealing an expensive, but slightly battered, watch, “I kept my eye on the time, well, honestly, easy enough to track it by the sun, but watches are nice too.”

Turning down the block, Étienne realized that they were not retracing their previous route. “Isn’t this the wrong way?”

“No, it turns down there, and we gets back a different way, retracing steps not quite my thing, do that too much at work,” Mac made a face, “when I can, I try to avoid repetition.”

“I can understand that,” Étienne said, as he enjoyed the shade of the trees along the boulevard. The older neighbourhoods were some of his favourite, they had enough time to feel more settled, to have trees larger than a sapling to provide a canopy in the heat of the summer. Patches ahead of them rambled on, stopping now and then to sniff at something, before bounding back for a pet, and then forward again. “How long have you had Patches?”

“He’s about seven, a rescue,” Mac shrugged, “Best to give a chance to the life already livin’ than buying one not yet made eh?”

It took a moment for Étienne to process what he meant, and he nodded, “That works.”

“Plus he’s a great dog, even if sometimes he gets into a spot of trouble, can’t have a better best friend honestly, do you have a pet?”

“I have a stray cat I feed sometimes,” Étienne shrugged, “I don’t think that counts.”

“Careful there, if you give a stray too much attention they adopt you,” Mac teased as he turned down the back alley.

“I would like to see it try,” Étienne responded with some amusement, the scent of the food being cooked on the BBQ floating up to them. Without a word their pace quickened, as if in some sort of silent agreement they had decided that the faster they returned to the house the better.

“So, do you like the house?”

“Yes, it’s quite energy efficient,” Étienne absently responded.

“Yeah, it was sort of what inspired Caroline to get me and Brisebois to start up the business, sort of our kickoff project, and boy, Chuck was a terrible client, really bossed us about what he wanted concerning his little nest there,” Mac lifted the latch on the back gate, and opened it, allowing Patches to enter first, and then Étienne before he followed.

Patches bounded up towards the hens, which had been briefly napping in the shade, giving a booming bark. Étienne panicked, the dog was ten times larger than the hens, what if he ate them? Mary-Anne let out a squawk and ran away, which only inspired Patches to chase after her, snapping playfully. Not comprehending that no one was running to her defence, Étienne jumped into action, quickly rushing forward and scooping Mary-Anne out of harm’s way, only to have her frantically flap her wings in his face, and then out of his grip, drifting to the ground next to Henrietta. Patches thinking that Étienne was joining in the game barked joyfully, tail wagging like mad, before turning back to the chickens, barking at them.

Out from the far corner, like a freight train, Esther arrived to defend her distressed mates, giving a loud threatening growl. Patches’ ears flattened down, and he lowered his head, and sunk down onto his front paws, allowing Esther to give him a smart peck on the nose, and scold him into silence.

Confused, Étienne looked at the scene, with Henrietta and Mary-Anne acting as if nothing had happened as they primly pecked on the ground, then back to Esther, satisfied with her scolding, who turned her evil eye upon him.

“Wha-?” he turned towards Mac, who was failing to suppress his laughter, and then to the people on the patio, Calvin, spatula in hand, a wide grin on his face, and Edward, who had been setting out the condiments, face screwed up in silent laughter, and then, he finally looked at the source of the loudest source of laughter- Caroline, hands holding a lidded dish, laughing fit to burst.

Managing to get some speech out, between some guffaws, Mac finally said, “Patches ain’t got shit on Esther, she’s the boss and everyone knows it.” This was all he managed to get out, as he gave Étienne a hearty backslap, before proceeding towards the patio.

Feeling extremely embarrassed, Étienne took a step forward, only to be met with a loud squawk. Looking down, he realized Esther had moved in front of him, and was flapping her wings, giving him a look. Confused, he looked up towards Edward, probably the only one who could interpret what she wanted.

“Pick her up,” Edward advised, “she wants to be snuggled.”

“Hell no,” Étienne responded, “Don’t you remember when-”

Impatient, Esther pecked at his foot and let out another squawk. With a sigh, he bent down and awkwardly picked her up.

“Hold her closer to your chest,” came the instructions, which Étienne followed.

Preening for a moment, Esther settled against his chest and closed her eyes, Étienne awkwardly stood there, until Ed informed him that he was allowed to walk and hold a chicken at the same time. Slowly he shuffled forward, and slowly up the stairs, every now and then shooting Edward a “help me” look. Wiping his hands on his apron, Edward smiled, and shook his head, “She’s yours now, Étienne, you’re going to have to hold her till she is satisfied.”

“But I want to eat food!” Étienne exclaimed, as he slowly sat in one of the chairs.

“Hmmm that is an issue,” Edward said in a playful tone, looking towards Calvin, “Do you think our guest deserves some food?”

Crinkling is brow as if in thought, Calvin said, “Well….”

“Hell, just feed him, Eddy,” Caroline suggested as she opened up the butter dish, “It’s your chicken.”

“I- what-” Edward begun in confusion, looking at her.

“What she means is,” Mac patiently mansplained, “If Étienne has to pet Esther there, you gotta feed him.”

“Yeah,” Caroline nodded.

“Corn is ready,” Calvin announced, placing them onto a plate.

Mac and Caroline helped themselves, and after a moment, Edward put the corn holders onto the corn, and added the butter, before sitting next to Étienne.

“This is really good corn from Taber, it’s known to be sweet and this is the best time to eat it, fresh from the farm,” Edward was explaining, as he held it out in front of Étienne’s face, apparently deciding that he did in fact need to feed him.

Leaning forward, Étienne took a bite of the corn, butter dripping down his chin as the sweet grain opened up in a flavourful burst in his mouth, he wanted another bite. Unfortunately, Esther had perked up to the corn nearby, and as he went to take another bite, her head appeared in view, scaring Edward, who accidentally dropped the corn onto the ground, which was leapt upon by Esther in a triumphant gesture, who quickly began to gobble it up.

A moment was taken, as they processed the scene, and then, giving a snort, Ed gave Étienne a rueful look, and carefully joked, “Taber-nac, eh?”

“Oh my god,” Étienne snorted, and began to laugh, “That’s terrible.”

“I know I know, but it means I can eat now,” Edward stood up, “You should wash your hands, petting chickens is not always the cleanest.”

“Yes sir,” Étienne said as he stood up, “So long as you guys save me some of that delicious corn.”

“And elk,” Mac added between a mouthful of corn.

“And elk,” Étienne said as he went into the house to wash up.

When he came outside again, he was met with the unpleasant visage of the neighbour that tried to kill him before chatting to Calvin over the fence.

As he settled down with a full plate, he caught drifts of the conversation, deciding that it was better not to engage.

“You serious? You said this started at three!” Edith’s voice penetrated the yard, and Étienne looked to see her rounding onto the patio, pie in hand, looking irritated.

“Sorry, they showed up early,” Edward apologized.

“You better have saved me some corn, otherwise none of y’all are going to get my Flapper pie.”

“Corn has been saved,” Calvin reassured, turning away from his conversation with the neighbour, which seemed to have ended anyway.

Setting the pie onto the table, Edith grabbed herself a plate and stood pointedly next to Calvin, who filled it up, and sat down across from Étienne.

“You could have texted me,” she was still complaining to Edward, “You always do this, just assume I just know the change in plans.”

“Sorry,” Edward apologized again, “I figured you were coming here soon anyway-“

“Warm elk isn’t as good as freshly cooked elk,” she scolded.

Étienne looked over to Calvin, who was powering down the grill, as he came to join them and poured all the toppings possible onto his elk, scooping the cheesey mashed potatoes onto his plate, and digging in.

“Edith, is that a new tattoo on your sleeve?” Caroline’s voice interrupted the scolding, and Edith was having a favourable response to this, allowing the tension to easily dissipate. Instead of being on the sidelines, Étienne found himself drawn into the conversation, discussing favourite tattoo artists with the two women, and getting into a heated argument with Edith over which artist had the best lacing technique.

It was a surprise when his fork hit empty plate, when suddenly the Flapper pie was being served out, the conversations once more changing and turning in the comfortable atmosphere, Edward deep in talk with Mac, about something Étienne had no clue about, but it seemed business related.

It was one of those irritating sounds that slowly bring you to consciousness. Repetitive, droning in the background before it comes to the forefront and you lay there, the sound increasing until it is all you can think about. Grumbling, Étienne reached to the side table, and answered his phone.

“Mlo?”

“Where are you, fucker? I’m standing in your bedroom with bagels and coffee, and you don’t even have the decency to be home to greet me?” Emma’s voice rang loud and clear, “And then I have to spend a half hour trying to get you to answer the phone!? Are you sleeping in someone else’s bed?”

“Hnnn,” Étienne responded, his brain slowly catching up with her words, he rolled onto his back and lazily stretched, the sun beams sneaking past the heavy floral curtain. “Yeahh…”

“Are they there? I want to yell at them too!”

“Emma, no… I am not sleeping with someone, but I am in another’s bed?” Étienne realized he was not making much sense, but he was still waking up. He was sore from the hard labour of yesterday.

“Étienne, where are you?” Emma’s voice was at the end of patience. “Am I standing here in your apartment like an idiot for no real reason?”

“Mmm… well… yes? I’m still in Edmonton.”

“…Why are you still in Edmonton? Weren’t you supposed to get back yesterday?”

“Missed my flight…”

“You still could have caught a different flight back Étienne… wait…” Emma’s voice got softer, “Did you and Ed? Y’know? Make up?”

How she said it, Étienne knew she meant ‘make up’ as in ‘have sex.’

“Yes and no…” Étienne was lazily lolling on the comfortable bed, idly wondering what time it was, and whether breakfast had been made.

He heard movement, which indicated Emma was moving somewhere, and then he heard a soft flompf. “Are you in my living room?”

“Well you aren’t here, so I’m going to eat the food and drink the coffee I so thoughtfully brought you, while you tell me what is going on. Don’t try to fool me Étienne.”

Giving a sigh, Étienne responded, “Yes we have made up, but… Ed is still clearly wrapped up with Calvin. I don’t think we will ever be what we were… not in that way.” He knew that if he tried to fool Emma she would know immediately what he wasn’t saying, and… saying it out loud hurt. It was necessary though…

“Oh,” her voice had softened, “Are you going to be alright?”

“I…” he frowned, reflecting over the past few days, was he going to be alright in this new form of his relationship with Ed? Clearly the other man still cared about him – his thoughts turned to all the food stuffed into his suitcase – and wanted Étienne to still be in his life. Plus… if he were to be honest with himself, talking to Edward again, being able to laugh and joke with him… he had been happier than he had been for a long while. What was sex, really? A different form of intimacy, expressing different feelings, that clearly, Edward did not need from him anymore. Plus it was not like he was going to be living the life of a eunuch anyways, there was a whole world available to him for that need. Edward was able to fulfill other intimate needs that very few people ever could.

“Étienne?” Emma’s voice sounded a little muffled as if she was eating a bagel, reminding him that he had not finished replying.

“Honestly, at this point I will take him anyway he wants to give himself to me, even if it’s communicating through a pager,” he responded, “Thankfully he has decided to communicate with me by constantly feeding me.”

He heard her swallow, “You’re getting three square meals a day at his place?”

“Yup, he even makes me lunch, it’s really adorable-“”

“Holy hell, I need to visit, is his food any good?”

“Oh my god Emma, his cooking is divine!” he gushed, “He made this brownie the other night and me and Calvin ended up duelling to finish it, I am dying of jealousy over the fact he has constant access to this food. Edward has a giant garden, and he is making his own apple chips and jam. If he opened up a store, I would be first in line to buy his food.”

“…would you be mad if I flew right over to eat this food?”

“Emma, you can’t just appear on his doorstep,” Étienne chided. “Look, maybe if you’re real good I’ll share some apple chips with you. He ended up packing a bunch of food in my bag since he thought I was going home.”

“Awww that’s real sweet, are you sure he doesn’t still care about you, Étienne?”

“Emma, people can still care about people without being in love…” he responded in an exasperated manner, hating that her question made his heartbeat pick up in false hope. There was no way that Edward would still harbour such feelings for him… right? He had clearly moved on, built up an entire life without him. A better life without him, anyways, Étienne as well had managed to build a life… build a life around the gaping wound Ed had inflicted when he had left. The wound still had the bad habit of bleeding, but he was getting better at managing to ignore it. It was one of the odd wounds, where Étienne logically could function perfectly well. He had his own life, with many opportunities, many partners. Staying here however… the wound was gushing and he was not sure how to stop it. Leaving, logically, but even then he was unsure if he could staunch the flow.

There was a knock on his door, startling Étienne from his dismal thoughts, and without any further warning, the object of his torment poked his head in, “You awa—oh sorry, I didn’t know you were on the phone.” Ed’s eyes had averted away from Étienne, his cheeks flushing a bright red, and Étienne realized that due to how tired he had been last night he had not bothered to put his pyjamas on… so he was lolling around naked, the blanket twisted between his legs revealing a tan thigh.

Lazily giving Ed a smile, and making no attempt to cover himself (he was finding that fact that Ed kept blushing very intriguing and honestly a major turn on), he waved his hand indicating that Edward could enter the room. Awkwardly Ed shuffled in, but stood close to the door as if he was about to bolt.

“I’m talking to Emma,” he announced.

“Is someone there, Étienne?” Emma asked.

“Ed’s just come in to wake me up,” Étienne explained, “Do you want to say hello?”

This open ended question had Edward and Emma chorusing an awkward hello.

“Just announcing… breakfast is soon…” Ed added, “Uhm I will leave you to your call.”

“Ah no we were just finishing up,” Étienne added to Emma, “I gotta go now, call you back later?”

“Alright, enjoy the breakfast,” Emma grumbled, “Not that I’m jealous or anything.”

“Now, now Emma.” Étienne chided, “Goodbye.” With that he clicked off the phone, and attentively looked towards Edward. “What is for breakfast?”

Edward had been edging back towards the door, “Uh Calvin is making us a hearty farmer’s breakfast… y’know eggs, sausage…” his eyes widened as Étienne tossed the cover off and stood up, fully stretching his body like a lazy cat, his arms above his head, leaving nothing to the imagination. Licking his lips, Ed added, “I’ll let you get dressed.”

Étienne, who was sneaking peeks at Edward, enjoyed the discomfort of the other man, revelling in the fact that he still managed to have some sort of effect, “No need to be shy, it isn’t anything you haven’t seen before, Edward,” he responded as he walked over to his luggage, and dug around for some underwear; finally, he pulled some out triumphantly. Standing up, he looked to Ed – who for some reason, was still lingering at the door watching him, the hungry yet embarrassed expression upon his face. “Oh, I never did thank you,” Étienne was walking towards him, underwear lazily bunched in his hand, not bothering even to put it on at this point.

“T-thank me?” Ed’s voice rasped out, his eyes taking on the expression of a hunted animal, one that regretted not having fled yet.

“Yes…” Étienne stood in front of him, and with his non-underwear hand, he reached out, and gently with the back of his hand, brushed Edward’s cheek as he leant in, their faces an inch apart, eyes finally meeting, “Thank you for the food in my bag, it was very thoughtful.”

Edward looked down, by this point even his nose had joined in turning red, “Oh uh, it- it was nothing…”

“Please don’t call your delicious jam nothing,” Étienne responded, “Anyways, thank you…” and as he said this he gently cupped Edward’s face, turning it up, in order to placidly place a kiss on each cheek. Which was probably a mistake, Étienne realized the second after he had done it. He had simply meant it as a casual thank you kiss on the cheek action, he had done this numerous times before, in many different situations. Firstly, as his lips touched Ed’s cheek, the scent of the other man, one he had known so well, filled his senses, the warm skin sending soft shocks through his lips, and straight down to his toes. Secondly, his action had shocked Edward, who had not been expecting it, gave this small sound which Étienne thought was one of the cutest sounds he had heard in a long time. Thirdly, Edward had worked to turn his face away from the kiss, not realizing that Étienne was aiming for the second cheek, the colliding of these two actions, resulted on the second kiss… not landing on the other cheek, but at that awkward juncture between cheek on mouth, where it’s not exactly upon the cheek, not exactly upon the mouth. Instead his lips pressed against the corner of Ed’s slightly open mouth. When Edward turned his head to ask what Étienne was doing, Étienne in his embarrassment had not moved, meaning that Edward accidentally brushed his lips against Étienne’s, his question of “What are you doing?” resulting in an awkward brushing kiss between them.

Edward jolted away, banging his head on the edge of the door, and his natural reaction pulled his head forward as he smacked his forward against Étienne’s bare shoulder.

“God,” Ed grumbled, his ears tinting red in his embarrassment, but he made no attempt to move his head from Étienne’s shoulder, “Just forget that last awkward... whatever didn’t happen, ok?”

Heart pounding, Étienne feared that his careless teasing might have screwed things up between him and Edward. “Right. Uh, I’ll get dressed now…”

Giving a huff, Ed pulled away, warily eyeing the door, “See you… in five minutes.” Once more he was studiously looking anywhere but Étienne, and he quickly fled the room, firmly closing the door behind him.

“Merde,” Étienne grumbled, as he quickly dressed himself. Being here in Edward’s house had sort of felt like old times, where half of their communication was in harmless flirtation. Had he overstepped a boundary? Edward had been looking very uncomfortable at the end there. Taking in a big breath, Étienne slowly let it out. Just when things seemed to be going fine, he somehow managed to find the secret landmine and explode it on purpose.

XXXX

Calvin was looking way too happy, Étienne decided as he sat down at the kitchen table, taking in the feast laid out before him. No one should look this happy in the morning, he thought, as he pulled the sausages towards himself. Edward was in deep conversation with Calvin, his cheeks still slightly pink. Throughout the meal, Étienne got the sense that Ed was consciously avoiding conversation with him, his attention entirely focused on Calvin. Had he overstepped this morning? Perhaps what he viewed as harmless teasing… was viewed differently by Edward.

It was a relief when Calvin stood up and happily informed Étienne that they were going to clean out the chicken coop. Étienne found himself presented with grungy gardening clothing, which he changed into, someone’s old rain boots, and a large floppy hat, with rubber gloves that went up to his elbow. He found himself standing outside the chicken coop, holding a bucket full of implements, while he watched Calvin gently shepherd the three chickens out into the chicken run.

“Place the bucket down,” Calvin instructed as he locked them away from their coop, and handed Étienne a shovel. “After I take the roosts out, you shovel everything out into that wheelbarrow.”

Due to the time of the morning, the cool of the evening lingered, the sun not yet having reached its zenith. With some interest he watched as Calvin took out the three roosts one by one, and carefully lined them up in the sun.

With a small hand flourish, Calvin waved Étienne into the coop, and with determination not to fuck this up at least, he entered. It had a mixed smell of hay, shit, and something that could only be described as distinctly chicken.

Étienne was no stranger to hard work. While in the current day and age those who did not know him well may assume all he did was have sex and eat bagels, that simply was not the case. A little chicken shit did not scare him, and as he shoveled the hay and dirt into the wheelbarrow he found himself relaxing into the exercise. The task was finished surprisingly quick, and when Calvin asked if he wanted to wipe down the coop, Étienne found himself saying he wouldn’t mind. The mixture was white vinegar and water; with some elbow grease, it took him about ten minutes to properly clean it to his satisfaction. When Calvin poked his head in (after presumably sticking the chicken dirt into the compost), he let out a low whistle.

“Hell, you’re hired, you clean this better than I do.” He smiled over to Étienne, a warm sunny smile that made him feel as if he had achieved something.

“Careful what you say, Calvin,” he responded lightly, as he exited the coop, and place the spray bottle into the bucket, “I might take you up on that.”

Calvin had taken out a different spray and entered the coop. “And here I thought your city was doing better nowadays that you didn’t have to scrimp and save,” his voiced drifted out of the coop as he began to spray it.

“Haha,” Étienne responded, “What are you spraying?”

“Some Poultry Protector, keeps them safe from mites and lice,” he responded. “I got the rest if you want to clean up.”

“I don’t mind finishing the job,” Étienne responded. “Isn’t there some shavings I need to gather?”

“Oh I put them over there,” Calvin had stepped out and was spraying the roosts. “But we need to let everything thoroughly dry out first.” Setting the spray down, Calvin looked over to Étienne, his brow pulled down in thought. “Hey, you seem a little down this morning, did you not have a good sleep?”

“I…” this was the irritating thing about Calvin, Étienne thought, he was too observant for his own good. What was he going to say? Oh well I teased your boyfriend and may have kissed him, and guess what apparently all those feelings I thought were extinct are still alive and well and I desperately miss him? “I had a good sleep, I am fine, maybe not so chipper about cleaning out chicken shit?”

Giving a slightly forced laugh, Calvin responded, “Right, I suppose that makes sense. Look, why don’t you go check in on Ed, he should be finishing up in the kitchen now, I think he’s going to rope us into some gardening…”

Étienne knew that if he said no, that would only raise more questions, so he removed his rubber gloves and placed them in the bucket, and walked back towards the house, having to dodge the chickens who were eagerly waiting for their coop to be prepared for them. Reaching the back door, he was nearly hit by it as Edward swung it open, wearing his own gardening outfit, his hat somehow larger and brimmier than Étienne’s.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Edward asked, as he held out a pair of gardening gloves, “It’s time to be weeding.”

“I was looking for you,” Étienne responded as he took the gloves, making sure to avoid any skin contact with Edward.

“Oh?” Edward was still not meeting his eyes, and somehow, this avoidance twisted the wound inside Étienne. All he could think of was all the times before, where after such a teasing encounter, Edward would be challenging him back, teasing him, driving him insane.

“Calvin sent me.” The conversation felt forced, and he stepped back, pulling the gloves onto his hands.

“Right.” Edward stepped out, and walked towards the garden, holding a pail with various garden implements.

Étienne followed, taking in the scruffy plaid shirt, carefully patched up at the elbows, the jeans more patch than pant, the worn-out sneakers.

“So fortunately for you, things are big enough to easily distinguish between weed and plant,” Edward was explaining, as he indicated the difference anyway, “This should maybe take an hour at most with the three of us. If there are any questions, feel free to ask.”

“Sure. What do I do with the weeds I pull up?”

“Hmn… grab that bucket from over there?” Edward pointed, “Stick it there. We will just add it to the compost after anyway.”

When Étienne returned to the garden, he noticed that Edward had sequestered himself in the corner farthest from him. Probably on purpose, he thought, his heart twisting sadly. Yesterday everything had felt fine, they had been talking… Settling down, he began to pull the weeds, the smell of the earth still fresh from the morning dew. His fingers easily dug into it, tugging the weeds out, the work rhythmic and soothing, unfortunately allowing him too much time with his thoughts. The stalks of corn brushed against his hair, their leaves curling and rough. He was slowly and methodically working forwards, shuffling forward a little after he had successfully pulled out some weeds and placed them in his bucket. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took a steadying breath. Perhaps he should book a flight out of here, he thought. While the food was delicious, Edward avoiding him… he might as well not even be here. He reached out to pull out a weed, lost in his thoughts, and was startled when someone’s hand clamped on top of his. He looked up, and made a grimace as he realized that Edward was weeding in the row over, and somehow, this one weed was set in the exact spot where they would reach for it.

Edward was looking surprised to even see Étienne there, his eyes slightly glazed as if he had been rudely awoken from a trance.

“Étienne?” he slowly asked, the word slightly thick, however he did not move his hand.

“Right here,” he responded looking through the stalks of corn to the other man’s face.  

“Sorry, I didn’t even know…” Edward sighed, a dreamy look as he trailed off, the green leaves partially obscuring him. After a brief moment, he seemed to come to, and turned to look more fully at Étienne, almost searchingly, before saying, “Jeez you’re a slow as fuck weeder. You’re still on the first row?”

“Apparently so,” Étienne cautiously replied. This morning was eating him up, and, conscious that Edward had still not removed his hand, he added in a low tone, “I’m sorry about this morning.”

Edward frowned, this response not at all what he was expecting, “This morning? Oh right. Well you were just thanking me… so? Or do you mean teasing me?”

“…Both?” Confusion was probably the best way to describe him.

A soft smile appeared on Edward’s face, and he gave Étienne’s hand a small squeeze, “Why are you getting worried about that stuff now? A little flirtation never hurt anybody… you’re overthinking things.”

“But you seemed uncomfortable,” Étienne argued.

“Étienne, it’s fine. Trust me. Honestly if you weren’t teasing me a little I would be more worried about you-”

“More?” the word slipped out, and Étienne wished he hadn’t repeated it.

“When am I not?” Edward gave a soft laugh, and pulled his hand away, “Anyways, we should finish this up, we’re going out this afternoon.”

Étienne wanted to know more, what did Edward mean that he constantly worried about him? Did he think so little of him, just imagine him being unable to fend for himself? Or did he mean something else? These thoughts consumed him as he continued to weed, the process speeding up once Calvin had joined them. The clock was half past eleven when they finished, and after a long cool drink of water, Edward told Étienne to clean himself up so that they could go out.

XXX

“Edward, do you remember the last time you went without the truck?” Calvin was patiently asking. They were standing in the garage, and Edward was under the impression that they could just take the car.

(Étienne was baffled as to why two men needed a garage, two trucks, a car, motorcycles, bicycles, kayaks and canoes… he was surprised there wasn’t a camper stuffed in here as well.)

“Yes…” Edward shot a furtive look to Étienne. “You’re right.”

Calvin looked over to Étienne, “Last time-”

“Calvin, he doesn’t have to know!” Edward sounded painfully embarrassed, but Calvin continued.

“Edward went to the Enjoy Centre with the car, I ended up getting a phone call from him to bring the truck, because he found the perfect lattice work for the front garden for the creeping vines.” Calvin smiled, “Well he was right of course, but I told him, just bring the truck.” He jingled the keys.

“I wasn’t planning to get something so big, they were on sale,” Edward defended himself, as he approached the passenger side of the truck, he frowned, and looked towards Étienne. “Where do you want to sit?”

“…In the truck, presumably?”

“No, do you want shotgun? Or in the back?” Edward elaborated.

“I really don’t care?”

Calvin had rolled down the windows on the truck, to bark “Hurry up I’m starving!”

In the confusion, Edward ended up in the back, with Étienne riding shotgun next to Calvin.

The ride was relatively short, and Étienne was surprised that they had reached the place so quickly since it was not in the city.

It was a sprawling structure, and as they walked down to the entrance, he was not sure what to expect. Inside was like some sort of eclectic store, with various items he never knew existed, such as pickled cattail hearts.  As they walked further in, he noticed on the right hand side the store in fact turned into sprawling greenhouses, with rows upon rows of plants. On the left was a large window, and in front of that was a café, and what looked to be a restaurant.

When he turned to look towards the two men, he found Calvin standing beside him, looking towards Ed with a rather fond if bemused expression upon his face, in his hands was an empty reusable bag, full of other reusable bags. Edward had moved on ahead, and was critically looking at one of their specialty jars of food, before setting it down and almost sprinting towards specialty gardening tools.

“…Does he always do this?”

“Yup.” Calvin responded, “He kept hinting in 2018 about how much he wanted a Hydroponic garden for the winter… and then when I got it him for Christmas... he yelled at me… honestly I keep getting mixed signals from him.”

“Hydroponic garden?” They were slowly strolling behind Edward, who was placing various items in his shopping basket.

“Yes, I got him the tower version… basically it’s a self contained garden so in the winter you can continue having fresh food. I think he loves it more than he loves me some days,” Calvin joked, “After yelling at me for spending so much on him, he immediately put it together despite it being the dead of winter-”

“But? You said it works in winter?”

“Yes, but you need to get the seedlings started when there is still sufficient sun, it’s not as efficient otherwise… but Edward of course cheated a little by using his greenhouse to get them started.”

“That small glass structure in front of the garage?”

“Eyup.”

Edward had stopped inside what looked to be a small shop and was critically looking at various cookware.

“There’s so much here…”

“And Edward knows the place like the back of his hand,” Calvin responded with some pride, “He was once asked to give a gardening talk here… they know him well enough.”

Sure enough, Edward had run into one of the staff and was chatting with them intensely about the merits of the magnetic Reenberg kitchen rail, and if it actually did help with organization.

“Do you… understand what he is debating about?” Étienne asked Calvin after a good five minutes had passed in fierce debate.

“Oh my god, Étienne, don’t look at me as if I understand. I’m just the guy who brings the bags in, all I know is he looks around to see what’s new, he buys stuff, and then our house gets better somehow.”

Edward ended up passing on the rail, and just bought some dish cloths from the small store, before he moved on towards the various plants, tutting at some of the sad looking ones, before finally, returning to the main till and purchasing the items.

“Are we done?”

Calvin let out a hollow laugh, “No. There’s still downstairs.”

“…There’s a downstairs?” Étienne was getting hungry and he had been hoping that they would be hitting the restaurant soon.

“Yes…” Calvin somehow was holding some of the full shopping bags, “Do me a favour and hold these empty bags? I’ll just drop these off into the truck.” Without waiting, Calvin handed Étienne the bags, and disappeared, leaving him alone with Edward, who was heading towards an escalator.

Not knowing what else to do, Étienne followed Edward downstairs, his eyes turning round as he realized just exactly was downstairs. It was a grocery store with all sorts of food.

“I see you like the place,” Edward stated, “This place has so much interesting food…”

“Wow,” Étienne had gravitated toward the extensive cheese section, trying to take in the various items.

“Feel free to choose whatever, my treat,” Edward casually said.

“What if I want all the cheese?” Étienne half joked.

“Well, so long as I can share, it’s good?”

“You might regret this,” Étienne warned as he began to pick up various cheeses, trying to decide which ones he wanted to try the most.

“Doubt it, you have excellent taste, Étienne. Hell, even if you choose a failure, it would still be an experience. I trust you.”

“Those feel like fatal last words somehow…” but Étienne was secretly pleased, and he placed five different cheeses into Edwards basket. They slowly wandered gazing at the various food, and at some point, Étienne had acquired his own basket, when Calvin joined up with them.

“Edward, I am not sure if we have enough room in the fridge for that…” he warned.

“Who needs room when we plan to eat it all?” he responded.

“I thought we were having a late lunch at the restaurant?”

“There is always second lunch? Dinner?” Edward looked up at Calvin playfully, “Why? Jealous you don’t have your own basket to fill?”

Sticking his tongue out at Edward, Calvin said, “Not at all. I just have the suspicion my credit card is going to take another hit.”

Playfully Edward swatted him on the arm, “Oh you, you complain but you love it when I feed you.”

Calvin shot a pained expression towards Étienne who had been watching the exchange with some interest. In response Étienne lifted his eyebrows as if to say ‘better you than me’.

(In all honesty however, if spending a ton of money meant he could have Edward cook for him on a daily basis, Étienne would do so in a heartbeat, but they didn’t need to know that).

After a good hour, they purchased a careful selection of food, and as they ascended the escalator, Edward said, “Let’s eat.”

“What we just bought?”

“No, they have a restaurant here,” he pointed to it and with his bags in hand tromped towards it. It was the place with large glass windows and as they were seated at their light wood table, there were a few other people happily chattering over their food.

The food as Étienne had expected was delicious, and as he sipped his coffee and gazed out at the lake, he felt content. Edward was sitting across from him talking animatedly about his hydroponic garden (Calvin had accidentally mentioned it, and Edward had decided to inform Étienne all about it). Calvin was sat beside him, not paying any attention to Edward’s chatter, instead he was looking towards the passing waitress with thinly veiled interest. An action with somewhat surprised Étienne, but he thought, Edward didn’t seem to mind so… the awkwardness of this morning had passed and as they headed back towards the truck, loaded with their food goods Étienne wondered what else this place had in store for him.

XXXXX

Dinner was held outside, under the birch tree. The neighbour was cutting their lawn, the earthy moist smell of fresh cut grass drifting over to them on the light breeze.  

Between them sat an opened bottled of homemade rhubarb wine, their glasses in various states of consumption, as they lolled about on a picnic cloth. A tightly shut container, containing carefully cut cheese, meat and crackers protected by their bodies from the hungry chickens. Their shoes lay to the side, and Étienne was currently having a small standoff with Esther, who was busy trying to steal the Red Leicester from his plate (which he had shifted to hold protectively against his chest.)

“Why is she only attacking me?” Étienne asked, his voice slightly slurred, because the homemade rhubarb wine was rather strong.

Calvin was lazily tossing pieces of a cracker towards Henrietta, responded, “Just give in, you happen to be holding one of her favourite cheeses.”

“No! Chickens shouldn’t eat cheese! Right Edward?” Étienne beseechingly looked towards Edward, who was holding out a piece of sharp cheddar towards Mary-Anne, who happily plucked it from his fingers and quickly gobbled it down.

“Chickens can eat cheese, they just shouldn’t over indulge,” he responded grinning as Esther, in her impatience, gave the offending hand which was holding the Red Leicester out of reach a sharp peck. “If you want to keep your fingers I would suggest you give in a little and share… sharing is caring isn’t it?”

“You don’t sound so certain on that motto,” Étienne responded as he begrudgingly broke off a tiny piece of cheese and hesitantly held it out to Esther. After giving the piece of cheese an once over, she grabbed it in her beak, her action sharply nipping at Étienne’s fingers as she gobbled it down, and then turned her attention to Calvin, apparently desiring some crackers. “Ow jeez!”

“Are you alright?” Edward shifted over, putting his empty plate on top of the container, as he grasped Étienne’s hand to inspect the wound. “Aaah she did get you, you’re bleeding. We should wash this before it gets infected.” Glancing towards Calvin, who had three attentive chickens, Edward said, “We’re just gonna get this wound cleaned up.”

He looked up towards Edward, a fatal move, as Esther moved in and knocked his plate to the ground scattering the remaining of his mixed contents of crackers and cheese upon the ground, the three chickens giving loud clucks of victory as they swooped in to feast. Calvin had given a nod, before his attentions returned to the chickens, his protests loud and clear.

Grabbing Étienne by the wrist, Edward stood up, almost dragging the other man (who was still protectively holding his plate) towards the house.

“Why do you keep such vicious birds, Edward?” Étienne was grumbling.

“Maybe I like a challenge?” he responded as he opened the back door. “They have a proud dinosaur ancestry; they are just living up to their nature.”

“You are a fool then,” Étienne grumbled as Edward led him to the kitchen sink. Placing his plate safely down on the counter, Étienne was surprised when Edward squirted some soap onto his hand, and began to gently wash around the wound.  With some amusement he said, “I do know how to wash my own hands, Edward.”

“Shh let me take care of you,” came the response, as Edward carefully towel dried the area and gave it another inspection, his attention entirely focused upon the wound, frowning as some blood continued to seep out. “Ahh… come on, we need some polysporin.” His hand moved back to Étienne’s wrist, and he guided him to the bathroom. Opening the mirrored cabinet, Edward pulled some of the stuff out, and popped it open. Without any warning, he spread some of the ointment onto the wound, the stinging making Étienne let out a small whimper.

“Warn me next time,” he hissed out in surprise.

Giving him a small smile, and finally, looking at his face, Edward winked, “Where’s the fun in that? If anyone states a clear intention of bandaging up your wounds, you run the other way. Remember that time when?”

“I thought you promised never to mention that again?” Étienne sharply interjected, lightly flushing at the embarrassing memory.

“Well…. It does serve as the perfect example of you being an idiot,” giving a slight shrug, Ed released Étienne’s hand, placed the polysporin back, and then rather deliberately produced a band-aid. He opened it, not letting Étienne even take it. “Hold still,” he ordered, as he gently wrapped the wound up, carefully smoothing down the edges. “There, you big baby, all better now. Do you need me to kiss it better?”

“Maybe I do,” Étienne said in a sulky tone, his eyes widening, when Edward brought the wounded hand up to his mouth, and placed a small, gentle kiss upon the bandage. “I – I was joking.”

If there was anything that could be said concerning meetings it is that often, on the very last day, between the back and forth, rustling of paper, and long winded speeches, progress was finally being made. The morning pulled on thick like molasses, and Ed was relieved when lunchtime was announced. Étienne had been following him around the past few days like a shadow, and today was no different as they entered the lunch room to heat up the leftover stew.

“Are we going to sit outside today?” Étienne asked as he looked around the lunchroom.

“Yeah,” Ed responded, “I have been trying not to stare out the window all morning, but the sunshine is haunting me. I need to get the D.”

“Calvin not providing?” Étienne responded coyly enjoying the confused, and then embarrassed expression upon Ed’s face as he realized what he had just said.

“Uhh… Vitamin D… uhm… well, looks like our lunches are warmed up.” He opened the microwave, and then produced two small kitchen towels. He swaddled the bottom of each of the dishes, and handed one to Étienne. “So we don’t burn our hands.” Placing his on the counter, he grabbed his bag and then picked it up again. “Any ideas for where to sit?”

“Hmmn, well why don’t we try on one of those benches on the other side of Churchill? Change things up a bit?”

“Sounds great.” In well practiced coordination they headed out of the building, their pace fast as they walked towards Churchill, attempting to beat the other office workers with a similar idea. Edward was sad that this would be the last lunch with Étienne, and while usually he did spend Fridays in the lunchroom he wanted to be able to savour this last time alone.

As they nabbed one of the benches, he made sure to sit not too far away from Étienne, he did not want to give the wrong impression of avoidance. When Calvin had sprung Étienne upon him a few days ago he had been conflicted as to how to feel. Yes they were friends, but he had not expected Calvin to pull a move like that. He had been trying to walk the tightrope between friend and lover. Did their level of friendship involve touching each other casually? Was he touching Étienne too much? Calvin did not seem to mind him playing with Étienne’s hair, so he had put that on the OK To Do list, but he was unsure whether hugging was alright. Perhaps it would be, but then he was not sure how he felt about the idea of hugging Étienne. Everything was so confusing and he hated that every time he assumed it was figured out Étienne would reappear and throw everything back into the air.

Staring towards rusted twisted sculpture of… he had forgotten what, he absentmindedly loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the first two buttons, loosening his collar, trying to cool down. The summer air hung hot around them, pressing in like an unwanted hug from the stinky uncle.

“Geez, I think I’m going to melt,” he said, “Regretting having a hot lunch, no matter how delicious it is.” He waved his hand over it in a futile attempt to cool it down.

Beside him Étienne had paused eating, his eyes locked upon the newly exposed neck. Slowly he brought the spoon to his mouth, as if thinking.

“What? Why are you staring at me?” Ed frowned feeling suddenly ridiculously exposed.

“Ahem…” Étienne set down the container beside him on the bench, and then reached over, his fingers rebuttoning the shirt, “I am not sure how to say this, but I think you having the shirt open may lead to an embarrassing situation for you… mainly because of the large hickeys on the side of your neck and lower collar bone which were being exposed.” Deftly he also moved the tie up into a closer knot, and smiled at the mortified look upon Ed’s face.

“Uerhh, thank you there, I had completely forgot about that.” He managed to respond, trying to figure out the meaning behind Étienne’s eyes; he felt like there was a message there he was not getting, but Étienne looked away, breaking the contact.

“No problem,” Étienne had picked up his container and was once more eating his food like a starving person.

One of the perks of Étienne visiting was the fact that he and Calvin had been having some very passionate sex. Edward’s mind reflected on how last night Calvin had spent a very thorough time going over his body, marking it, whispering sweet words of possession. The entire thing had been very hot, but he had not wanted Étienne to know or witness any aspects of that.

After a couple bites of his own food, Ed gave a snort of laughter, and upon Étienne’s glance, he said, “Well I guess now you do know, Calvin is providing the D?”

“Oh…” Étienne gave a small laugh. “True.”

“Thank god this transit meeting is nearly over,” Ed switched topics, not liking how Étienne’s voice seemed a little forced. The past three days he had felt helpless around Étienne, where before he knew exactly what to do, now it was like watching his friend slowly crumble in front of him, with no amount of masonry to put him back together. Étienne was secretive around him, he could tell he was holding back, words between them that once were so easy now tightly held secrets. It made Ed wonder how much they had managed to ignore by having sex. Had sex been connecting or separating? A method to not say anything that needed to be said? Having taken sex out of the equation, the gaps between them were achingly obvious, and he had no idea of how to bridge them. Was it actually possible to be friends from lovers?

“Yeah, I am glad Edith has decided to spare my life today,” Étienne lightly joked as his spoon scraped around the container searching for the remaining food.

Ed wished there could be some way where he could travel back in time, and begin at square one with Étienne, begin simply as friends and develop that way. The thing with Calvin is he had not really needed to act around him, hell he did not think he had anything to lose on that end. It made the relationship easier, Calvin already knew about his odd habits. Their relationship was comfortable, like pulling on a pair of favourite boots. With Étienne… well they had embarked on things at probably the worst time. Still he was thankful for him, thankful for what they had. The experience at least had been worth it, even if now the gaps between them hung suspended like unexploded bombs.

“Mmm, I think she probably had a good breakfast, I’ve noticed that when she doesn’t she is really nasty.” Ed was eating his food slower, and he watched as Étienne placed the container away into the lunch pack and took out the bag of cookies.

“I will thank her breakfast then, I was concerned I would not escape this city alive with her breathing fire down my back.”

“I don’t blame you. I would have used your body to fertilize my plants at least, give you one last purpose in life,” Ed teased.

“Oh, is that the purpose of my life Edward? To fertilize your garden? And here I thought it was to have sex with everybody, I must have been doing it wrong.”

“Well, you seem to be having sex with everybody wrong Étienne... you are missing a huge swath of the population.”  Ed had finished his stew, and grabbed a cookie from the bag.

“Thank you for shitting upon my one life ambition there, Edward.” Étienne dramatically sighed.

“If it really was your life ambition, you really are messing up. There are so many people in the world, with limited life spans, so it would not make sense for you to have repeat partners, just saying,” Ed shrugged, “So you should have just had sex with me once, and then moved onto the next person in line.”

“I suppose you have pointed out the major flaw in my plans,” Étienne mused, “But you know, I only have repeat performances if I enjoyed the company. Call it a fatal indulgence?”

Edward shifted, the words somehow taking him by surprise, trying to keep his tone light, hating how his voice shook a little, he said, “Can’t blame you there, glad I was included on that list.”

“Mmm…” Étienne focused upon his second cookie, his posture a little awkward, as if he was not sure whether to be tense or relaxed.

Had he fucked up? Should he switch topics? Edward was stopped by Étienne speaking up.

“I still enjoy your company,” Étienne gave him a brief smile, “Even without any sex.”

Swallowing rather hard, Edward accidentally crumbled the rest of the cookie in his hand; embarrassed, he tossed it onto the pavement for some nearby pigeons, hoping that it looked like he had planned that on purpose.

“I enjoy you too, even without the sex,” he managed to finally respond, not looking at Étienne, fairly certain that the back of his neck was heating up from extreme embarrassment.

“If you didn’t want that cookie I would have eaten it, I don’t see why you should have given it to the pigeons. Am I not more deserving of the last cookie than the pigeons?”

“Last cookie? Weren’t there six? I had only grabbed one?”

“Ah, well you see, you were so slow I ended up eating them all.” Étienne did not look one bit repentant about this fact, “Figured I won’t have access to them after tomorrow, so might as well indulge now?”

“You make it sound like you are flying to the moon, Étienne. Are you really planning on never visiting again?” Edward realized a little too late that his joke was in fact a rather earnest question, one that ventured into the unknown minefield he had been so desperately avoiding.

“I meant for the foreseeable future, of course I plan to visit… I hope you plan to visit as well? You seem to have been… avoiding m- Montréal?” the question was carefully said, Étienne looking at the pigeons who had all crowded around the cookie crumbs.

“Not avoiding,” Ed sighed, “I just was not sure if you wanted me to crash your everlasting party.”

“Really, Edward? You have not been visiting for such a stupid reason? You think I only wanted you around for sex?” Étienne’s face froze as the words slipped out, the last part no doubt not meant to be said aloud.

Edward, if he was wanting to be honest, would have replied Yes. However, he had the gut feeling if he simply said Yes, it would really hurt the other man, and he simply did not have the heart to drive a knife through his middle. He worried it would be a killing blow.

“No, not that,” Edward shifted a little closer, somehow thinking that a closer proximity would make what he was about to say better somehow. Awkwardly, he placed his hand on top of Étienne’s which was splayed atop the bench, “I just have no idea where we stand. What permissions do I still have, and where do I not? Would I even be welcome to drop by?”

“Hmmm,” Étienne thankfully did not pull his hand away, “Well, just for the record you can drop by any time. Even if we are no longer lovers, we are still friends.”

“Are we?” Ed asked the question softly, intensely staring at Étienne, “Because I feel like somehow we are still caught in between those two poles, not sure how the hell to move on.”

The seconds were silence, Edward fearing he had said too much, wishing he could take out the mixtape and manually rewind it, then tape over it again with something less idiotic.

Étienne however, finally slid his gaze towards Edward’s face away from the pigeon party on the sidewalk. Subtly he shifted so that he could look at Edward straight on, but he made sure not to move his hand from underneath Ed’s. He reached out with his other hand, and brushed a strand of hair which had fallen forward out of Ed’s face, his action deliberate, his fingers moving on to settle upon Edward’s shoulder.

“Edward. You are overthinking things. I am sorry you feel that way, but I am fine with us being friends. Caught between poles of what? I have many friends who were past lovers, perhaps this is new for you, but trust me it is not for myself.” He gave a firm squeeze to Ed’s shoulder, and he gave a reassuring smile, “This is awkward for you no doubt, especially since you had developed… feelings. But that’s all in the past now.” His fingers were pressing tightly into Ed’s shoulder now, as if he had forgotten to let go. “You know me, I fly like a butterfly from flower to flower, enjoying the gifts of every type. Do not worry so much about me. The awkwardness is mainly on your part of overthinking, we are friends. It is fine.”

Almost as if an afterthought, Étienne removed his hand from Edward’s shoulder. “Anyways, shouldn’t we be heading back to the meeting? I think the clock is about to toll our late arrival.” Casually he removed his hand out from under Ed’s and stood up, brushing any crumbs off his shirt. Barely looking at Ed, he gathered his lunch and briefcase.  “Hurry up.”

Slowly, in a state like waking up from an icy shower, Ed followed suite, and gathered his items, not saying a word as they walked back to the office. He knew he should, he could feel the tensions between them building once more, but he had no idea what to say. Of course he was being idiotic about this, Étienne was right. Étienne was Étienne, able to fly away from any situation unscathed, continue on like some eternal butterfly, touching briefly but never settling. He should simply be satisfied that the butterfly had decided to linger around him, he should not have expected any more than that.

XXXXX

Étienne wondered when he had become such a proficient liar. As far back as he could remember he was lying. He knew he had started as a small child lying over simple things, to the more proficient lies of an adult kindly spoken for the benefit of someone else. Today’s lie had felt as if he was purposely rubbing powdered glass into Edward’s sudden outpouring of confidence, but Étienne comforted himself by saying that it was for the best. As much as he was annoyed at how things had turned out, he could see how happy Edward was in his life. What did he have to offer? He simply was not able to compete with Edward’s new life, and he did not even want to. He was glad that on the way back Edward had been silent, he knew he had hurt him, but he knew that if a conversation had been tried to be carried he would have failed.

Telling these sorts of lies never came easily to him, and he knew that if he had been asked to speak as they walked up towards the Edmonton Tower he might have slipped up to reveal his crumbling resolve. It was not Edward’s job anymore to patch over his mistakes, that was quite clear, and quite frankly unfair. Edward did not need to know about his feelings, nor was he obligated to extend beyond the basic courtesies of friendship. What he did not like was how much he had grown to depend on Edward to do exactly that over the years. There was a point in their… friendship, that like clockwork if something went Wrong, and he did not handle it Well, Edward would appear as if out of the black ether and pull him together, patching together the broken masonry like an expert builder.

Now he was creating his own lasting buildings, developing his own plans. Étienne a mere speck in the shadows of them, watching helplessly as he turned into a bittersweet memory of the past, as growth twined around Edward, his roots merging so deep down that he could hardly be moved. When it came to Étienne, he was adrift, his own city a stranger to him. Each day he spent there the more foreign it became, the people who he used to know so well changing so much he was seeing faces from the past who had long since been dead. How many times had he rebuilt himself, only to crumble, break down… Tiredness ached his bones and he wanted to lay down, take a well deserved nap.

The source of his drifting misery he was unable to pinpoint. It had slowly grown inside of him after the large 375, asked by the most innocent of questions from Ludovico. They had been sitting outside on the step smoking, the others having left; Ludovico, who had decided to tour Canada while he was there, had lingered.  Their bodies were in that state of pleasant ache after good sex.  It was one of those moments of the evening where the sun had set but the last of its rays lingered creating a pink bloom across the sky.

Ludovico had been lazily sprawled across the step, his long legs spread out like ancient bridges. “375, you are so young still… I barely remember mine… it wasn’t such a big deal back then. I have seen so many people come and go… those who you think could never leave gone overnight it seems… others slowly drifting into nothing, the buildings bones of their bustling past…” taking a long drag of his cigarette, he looked over to Étienne, who had been contentedly staring at him, used to the other man’s rambling.

“Tell me Étienne… what’s next?” the question while innocent carried an undercurrent, something inscrutable which Étienne could not quite place.

“Next? Well… perhaps a nap before the next round of sex?” he had responded with a tease.

“No, no, you cannot just go through life as if it’s a joke, Étienne, you need to seriously consider this,” Ludovico had waved his cigarette expressively, “What is next for you? You have accomplished much yes, but there is the future to think of as well.”

“Do I really need to think about that now?” Étienne had asked fluttering his eyelashes.

“Allora, you are very frustrating,” Ludovico however had smiled at him, “I see you do not want to take this seriously, but here is my warning, if you do not take care, Étienne, one day I will be remembering you as the past while someone else takes over. Things happen like so... pouf,” here he stubbed the cigarette out onto the stair, “To people who kept looking the other way, ignoring their problems.”

“I am not particularly worried,” Étienne responded with a small laugh, “I know how to survive, now then… perhaps we can renew our physical acquaintances?”

“Oh Étienne, you have much to learn,” Ludovico had shifted closer, his hand drifting up and settling upon Étienne’s inner thigh, “You are so sweet…”

The conversation, which at the time he had wanted to forget, kept resurging. What was next for him?

From afar, he had watched with jealousy how the other cities continued to evolve, grow, the life seeming to spring up like newly born plants. At home, he had grown annoyed at Élyse bustling about, her phone constantly seeming to ring whenever he wanted to spend time with her, her mouth moving a mile a minute as she made plans. When he tried to help her she had shrugged him off, “You wouldn’t want to deal with the fucking mess of…” Fill in the blank.

The feeling of uselessness had continued to grow, a suffocating vine from the smallest part of his brain and twining around inside of him, spreading out until he felt immobile, where everything he touched did not matter. Being in Edmonton was not helping him at all, watching how much Ed had grown and changed built up such a good life for himself. Bitterly he reflected on their time together, when he thought that perhaps they could have been something more, where he could have been the man fulfilling Ed’s needs. Could he have been able to step up like Calvin? Would he have kept their relationship at a distance, the kilometres a comfortable space between them, where they could be together but also not at all? If things had been different… would Ed even have chickens? Would Ed actually be any better or would he have just been detrimental to other man? Étienne moodily thought, detrimental. He was absentmindedly scribbling on a piece of paper so consumed by thoughts that he jumped when Ed jabbed him in the side.

Someone was addressing him, and he realized guiltily he had not at all been paying attention to the meeting. Stuffing these thoughts aside, he asked them to repeat the question.

XXXX

He had entered quietly, not wanting to disturb Ed. Originally he meant to announce his presence, but he realized that Ed was not moving, simply standing there staring out the window, gloved hands elbow deep in the water immobile.

Dinner had started out fine, Étienne settling into his chair, eyes widening as he took in the fried rice, ginger beef, deep fried wontons and veggies. He had looked at Calvin as if he had somehow turned into a god. When Calvin had explained that these had mainly all been premade freezer meals – except for the rice and veggies - Étienne’s expression was even more surprised.

Ed had chimed in then, mentioning how tedious making wontons was, so they simply put them together when watching sports to keep their hands busy, and then froze them in small batches so they could lazily fry them up when needed.

Calvin had been carefully observing Étienne the past three days, noticing how sometimes, probably even unrealized by Étienne, he would be sitting there attentively listening and looking at Ed, his careworn expression, which he had noticed had been carefully schooled, changing subtly. It was difficult to explain it, but usually after a beer, when Étienne had managed to loosen up after dinner as they talked, the expression he sometimes got when he glanced over to Ed, was… would tender be the right word? When he had first witnessed it Calvin had felt his mouth go dry.  

Really, after all this time? He had thought.  Honestly he had wanted to ignore it, but today had simply confirmed it. The incident was small, so obscure that on a long timeline of incidents it would probably not even be written in. They had been sitting at the table, when Ed had looked up towards Calvin and cleared his throat. “Could you- ?”

In response Calvin had handed over the soy sauce, knowing exactly what he was about to ask. Across from him Étienne who had been watching had dropped his chopsticks, hastily picking them up, his expression momentarily irritated.

“You alright there?” he had asked.

Étienne had looked at him, then towards Ed, taking a moment, as if to weaken his mood, “Do you think you two could tone down the gay? Getting blasted here.”

Ed had awkwardly laughed, “What do you mean? I just asked for soy sauce?”

“With just a look?” Étienne had responded, “Not all of us can tolerate such mind reading powers…”

“Étienne, you are being silly,” Edward had looked back at his food, dismissing the other man.

Calvin however had sensed the change in Étienne’s mood, watched how as he quickly finished his meal, Étienne after placing his dish in the sink had left the kitchen, the back door opening as he stepped out into the garden as if to escape them.

Hands in water, Edward had become distracted from washing the dishes. Intently he was staring outside into his backyard, at the odd scene before him. Étienne had drifted outside after dinner, unusually quiet. Ed had simply assumed he was going to sit in one of the chairs drinking, but he had been wrong. Calvin had mentioned to him that yesterday he had found Étienne amongst the chickens, but Edward had not thought there would be a repeat performance. However, there was Étienne, lounging under a tree, Henrietta upon his lap, staring up towards the leafy canopy. Mary-Anne was pecking nearby, while Esther was sitting by a raspberry bush sleeping. It should have been a scene of peace and pleasure, but Edward felt sad looking at his friend.

“What are you staring at?”

“Ah jeez, you startled me,” Ed looked towards Calvin, his worried expression clear, “I’m looking at Étienne…” slowly he began to wash the pot in his hand.

“Mm? Petting Henrietta again? When he goes we will have to count the chickens and make sure we have all three.”

“Calvin…” a tentative beginning, “Do… do you think that there might be something… wrong with Étienne?”

The question he had been dreading. Leaning against the counter, looking out at the man, Calvin took a moment to answer, “What do you mean?” Curiously he looked over to Ed, admiring how the slow setting of the sun brightened the brown in his hazel eyes.

“Just… he has not seemed himself while here, it’s hard to explain.” Edward sighed, remembering Étienne’s words from before, “I could be overthinking.”

Arms folded, Calvin considered the situation, wondering how far he should go. “N-no. I mean I don’t think you are overthinking. I agree.”

“You agree?” Edward placed the pot in the drying rack, “What do you mean?”

“Ah well y’know, tired?”

“I think he needs more than a nap,” Ed responded as he placed the last dish onto the rack, and removed his gloves.

“You know I’m not good with this wishy-washy stuff Ed, but, maybe Étienne needs to figure out who he is now. Times change and he needs to change with them.”

“Very practical of you to say that, but I am not surprised,” Ed paused as if he intended to say something more, instead he switched topic entirely, “Do you think he would like the freshly made brownies with ice cream?”

“Honey, if he doesn’t I will eat his share.”

XXXX

The breeze was cool, a relief from the heat of the day. He had rolled over to face plant into the grass, stretching out his fingers as he grasped the blades, the shade of the large white birch half upon him, shifting as the sun slowly moved across the sky.  If he could suffocate in the dirt that would probably somehow make him feel a little better over exploding like that over dinner. Mortified would not even be able to cover his turbulent emotions. He thought he was keeping it together fine, managing to ignore how intimate they were, how well they read each others emotions and thoughts, but goddam. Getting soy sauce without saying a damn word? Actions that were so smooth it was not even doubted they had been enacted many times before.

He could feel a chicken settle on him, but he did not have any willpower to move. It was fine, his life purpose was to be a chicken bed now.

There was a time where he had been that person, able to read Ed’s moods, understand what he wanted. Now though… now…

A sharp painful tug of his hair made him swat the attacker, his hand landing on feathers and a sharp beak which had swung over to defend itself. The loud squawk made him look up to be confronted with a very angry Esther who looked out for blood, her beady eye peering into his, feathers ruffled ready to fight. The bird which had been gently napping on his back hopped off, sensing danger.

“Excuse me, you are not allowed to eat my hair,” Étienne felt bad for hitting the bird, but that soon passed as she leant forward and took a chunk of his hair and tugged hard. “OW WHAT THE FUCK.” Violently he pulled away and sat up, mortified when he realized she had managed to pull a chunk of his hair out of his head. Rubbing the sore spot, he watched as she triumphantly waddled towards the chicken coop, hair waving in the wind like some macabre trophy. “Fucking bird.” He grumbled.

Hearing laughter from the back porch, he looked over to see Edward setting some dessert on the table.

“This is not funny, Edward!” he snapped. “If I had not defended myself I would be bald!”

“Can’t blame her, your hair is so curly it’s perfect for nesting,” came the response, “Now, would you care for some ice cream and a freshly baked brownie?”

Standing up, and brushing himself off, Étienne restrained his initial reaction (vault himself to the table and eat the food), to look more calm and collected. “Freshly baked? When did this happen?”

“Just now? While I was washing dishes figured I would cook up a little dessert for your last night here, there’s a secret ingredient.”

As he slowly sauntered up the stairs Étienne looked at them suspiciously. “It’s not… not pineapple, is it?”

“Oh my god, why would I even… no, it’s cinnamon.”

There were three plates laid out, each with a little spoon. Grabbing it from off the table, he settled into the chair (which he had claimed as his), and dipped the spoon into the rich chocolatey brownie. At first the cinnamon was not obvious, the rich dark chocolate of the brownie warm upon his tongue, then he tasted the cinnamon, a compliment to the chocolate. Taking another bite including the vanilla ice cream, Étienne made a soft moaning sound. This was so delicious he was already regretting that he had to return home tomorrow. No doubt after he left Calvin would be consuming vast amounts of this delicious food, and he felt his stomach twist in discontent.

“Looks like you enjoy this combination,” Ed said with some amusement.

Opening his eyes (when had he closed them?), Étienne responded, “Very much so. I have decided I love your cooking, it is always perfect… even when you were taking care of me back in the day. Your soups always made me feel better.”

Blushing in pleasure, Edward busied himself with eating his own dessert.

Behind them Calvin appeared carrying a guitar, which he carefully tilted against the wall before grabbing his dessert from the table.

“My favourite!” he exclaimed as he dug in and literally inhaled the dessert in about five seconds.

“Oh my god Calvin, you need to savour things!” Edward admonished, however the effect was lost due to his laughter.

Taking a sip of his beer, Calvin winked at Ed. “But there is more inside, and I have already decided the rest of that pan is mine?”

“Calvin! We have a guest, maybe Étienne wants seconds?”

“Ehh… but does he?” Calvin innocently looked over to Étienne who was halfway through his dessert.

“Yes. I do.” came the firm response.

“You’ll have to fight me for it,” Calvin smirked, “I doubt you could even take me.”

“You wanna bet?” Étienne raised his eyebrows at the challenge. Punching Calvin in the face would be something he would truly enjoy at the moment, especially if it meant more of this brownie.

Placing his bowl on the table, Calvin moved and picked up his guitar. “Country rap battle, right here right now.”

Étienne nearly choked on his last bite. Coughing, he managed to finally get everything going down correctly. “C-country rap battle? That is laying the table heavily in your favour. Edward, this is not fair.”

Ed who had been watching this with amusement gave a shrug, “Well, what would you prefer?”

“Hmm… music is not bad, but we can battle it out using styles suited to us?”

“That sounds alright, I mean if Calvin isn’t scared?” Ed teased lightly, and Calvin smirked.

“I ain’t scared.” He strummed the guitar, setting out a lively tune, his voice picking up, “Oh I am Calvin from the city, ready to fight, I am –”

Edward started to laugh really hard, apparently unable to keep it together to even be supportive.

“- going to take you down, after showin’ the town. You try to steal my brownie out of guestful spite, but my buddy pal, y’aint got a man, y’aint got a gal.” He gave a little flourish on the guitar and looked at Étienne with expectation.

Étienne frowned, how was he supposed to compete with a guitar? Licking his spoon in thought an idea came to him, and he grabbed Calvin’s spoon. Fitting them into the proper position he gave Calvin a challenging look, ignored the hiccoughing giggles of Edward, and struck up a firm rhythm with them, as he saucily began to sing a well known folk tune,  “Guest rights gives me the food, you get it everyday. Having no guy, nor gal doesn’t stop the way. Your song is ridiculous, as much as your hair. Not giving me a guitar, that is no fair.”

Calvin strummed to pick up again, when finally, Edward choked out, “Stop stop, oh my god, I can’t breathe, please. You both win.”  He was wiping tears from his eyes, his face red from how much he had been laughing. He glanced over to Étienne’s spoons, “Spoons,” and began to laugh again, clutching his side. Apparently the fact Étienne had decided to play the spoons was the killing blow for Ed, who was gasping for air as he laughed. It was contagious, and Étienne began to laugh, realizing how ridiculous they must look, fighting over the brownies. He lost it when Calvin let out a rather forceful snort of laugher, and any thought of continuing the battle was lost as they collectively gasped for air, the laughter hard and true. The moment it would die down, someone would catch the eye of one of the others and it would start up again.

What felt like an eternity of aching sides later, when no more air was to be had, and the sky had turned a brilliant orange as the sun finally reached its lowest point before saying goodbye, the laughter had finally subsided.

“Oh my god,” Ed stood up, “I’m getting us water and just bringing the tray out… and maybe some more…” he eyed the spoons, his mouth twitching up in a smile, “utensils…” he made his escape, but they heard him give a short laugh as he entered the house.

Étienne drew his fond gaze from the retreating figure, and was surprised to have Calvin giving him a rather serious look.

“It’s been nice having you here.” The tone was serious, and Calvin was leaning forward, arm casually laying across his guitar, “You shouldn’t be such a stranger, Étienne.”

He opened his mouth in surprise, not sure what to reply. Sure thing? Fly right on over to witness more perfect gay love?

“Look, I know things are a little… difficult,” Calvin continued, “But hey, ain’t no use crying over the past when the future is here for the taking, right?”

He was unable to respond because Ed had reappeared, and the serious Calvin had quickly dissolved into the hungry-for-more-brownie Calvin.

The addition surprised Étienne, he had not expected Calvin to be so welcoming. It felt as if any issues of the past had been resolved between them, which made him annoyed. Why was Calvin so easy to forgive and forget? Was he really as smart as Ed said? Forgiving so easily made him suspicious, as if Calvin had other plans in mind, something that could result in an even worse situation for himself. What that could be, Étienne had no idea.  These thoughts dispersed however as he began to eat more of the brownie, and as Calvin lit the fire and picked up his guitar to actually sing some cowboy songs, joined in by Ed now and then for the chorus, he felt his mood mellow, no doubt aided by the beer. Hell, he even beat out a rhythm with the spoons and joined in, the fire crackling sending sparks up into the navy night sky, where spark turned into star.