Going Left Around the World: Epilogue
Epilogue: One Year Later
“Are you sure?” I ask Ennis as he gives his official resignation letter a final once over. “I mean like really, truly, one-hundred percent sure?”
He folds the letter in thirds and slides it into an envelope, then flops down next to me on the couch. “Are you asking just to be a pain, or are we really going to have this conversation again?” he asks.
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. This town isn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. You’re giving up a high-level position in a big hospital, and your fancy condo, to come here to work in a so-so position in a small hospital.”
“I’m aware of all that. But you’re leaving out the most important part. Every night I’ll leave my so-so position in a small hospital and come home to you. Here. I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.” He cranes his neck up and kisses me.
I grin. “You mean in the past year you still haven’t figured out what a pain in the ass I am?”
“Oh, I know what a pain in the ass you are,” he says. “I choose to overlook it. Most of the time.”
Ennis had gradually spent more time at my place, doing more and more of his work by telecommuting. The hospital in Albany was fine with it for a while, but I think it became clear he didn’t really intend to live there again. He put out feelers for jobs in my area and found a few without much trouble, considering his resume. Then came the bigger question: were we ready to live together?
That dredged up some of the past, of course, but it didn’t take us long to figure out that we were more or less already living together. And when we had to be apart, neither of us was happy. So his condo went on the market.
“You’re too kind,” I snark back. “Are you all packed? We should get on the road soon.”
“Yeah, I think I got everything. I’m just going to grab a stamp and run this out to mailbox so it goes out today.”
“Okay. I’ll go grab the bags,” I say. I don’t get far before a ringing phone on the arm of the couch stops me. It’s Ennis’s phone, but I don’t think twice about picking it up and hitting the button to take the call.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hello,” comes the tart reply. Ennis’s mom. “I thought I called my son.”
“You did. He’s just in the other room. This is Jack,” I add, like she doesn’t know.
“I know,” she says. “Could you get him, please?”
“Sure thing; hang on. Babe! Your mom’s on the phone! Honey? Sweetie?” I shout with the phone on my shoulder.
Ennis told his parents about us once we were back together for good, and I went home with him for the holidays last year. I know his folks aren’t thrilled he’s gay, but they really seem to have a bug up their asses that he’s with me. Maybe it’s because they tried so hard to keep up apart when we were younger, or maybe they think I turned him gay. Who knows? I try not to let it bother me and to have a little fun with it when I can.
Ennis wanders back into the living room and rolls his eyes. “That’s enough,” he whispers, but he’s smiling as he grabs for the phone. I hold it out of reach until he gives me a kiss, then I hand it off and he says, “Hi, Mom,” as he heads out the door for the mailbox.
I make my way upstairs. We’re taking a long weekend trip back to the same B & B in the Berkshires we went to the year before. It’s kind of an anniversary trip since it feels like that’s where we got our shit together and got started for real.
I zip my overnight bag and drop it onto the floor. I start to zip Ennis’s bag, but then think better of it. While he isn’t the world’s worst packer, he’s guaranteed to short himself at least a few pairs of socks and boxer briefs (not that I mind him going commando). I grab a couple pairs of socks and shorts from his dresser and carry them over to his bag. I find the socks-and-underwear section in his bag and shove the extras inside, but my hand hits something hard under his first pair of briefs. I push them out of the way and see a small black box, a jeweler’s name emblazoned across the top.
Well, fuck me.
Ennis del Mar has an agenda for this weekend, and I have a good idea of what it is, especially thinking back on our little misunderstanding a year ago. I cover the box, put the extra clothes on top, and zip his bag. I smile to myself as I head downstairs, a bag in each hand. I knew whenever, however he decided to ask, it would be right. And I’m not freaked out; I know what my answer will be.
As I reach the last step he comes through the door, his sunglasses hooked on the neck of his t-shirt. He reaches for me and pulls me in for a kiss. “You’re awful smiley,” he said when we separate. I just shrug and keep smiling. He presses his nose into my hair and inhales. “You ready, baby?” he asks.
I look up at him. “You bet.”
We walk out the door of our house into the bright fall sunshine. Most of the time now, Ennis and I are just a regular, settled-down couple. The past doesn’t rear its head much anymore, and I don’t worry that he’ll up and leave. But some days, like today, as I watch him, his strong, tanned arms tossing our bags into the trunk of the car, the flash of his smile as he slams it shut, I swear to god we’re one of the wonders of the world.
Truth? I’m good with us either way. Because after ten years and what felt like a million tears, and a thousand miles between us, we ended up back where we started and, it so happens, where we belong. Together. And I’m not giving that up for anything.
today
yesterday
“Are you sure?” I ask Ennis as he gives his official resignation letter a final once over. “I mean like really, truly, one-hundred percent sure?”
He folds the letter in thirds and slides it into an envelope, then flops down next to me on the couch. “Are you asking just to be a pain, or are we really going to have this conversation again?” he asks.
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. This town isn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. You’re giving up a high-level position in a big hospital, and your fancy condo, to come here to work in a so-so position in a small hospital.”
“I’m aware of all that. But you’re leaving out the most important part. Every night I’ll leave my so-so position in a small hospital and come home to you. Here. I think I’m getting the better end of the deal.” He cranes his neck up and kisses me.
I grin. “You mean in the past year you still haven’t figured out what a pain in the ass I am?”
“Oh, I know what a pain in the ass you are,” he says. “I choose to overlook it. Most of the time.”
Ennis had gradually spent more time at my place, doing more and more of his work by telecommuting. The hospital in Albany was fine with it for a while, but I think it became clear he didn’t really intend to live there again. He put out feelers for jobs in my area and found a few without much trouble, considering his resume. Then came the bigger question: were we ready to live together?
That dredged up some of the past, of course, but it didn’t take us long to figure out that we were more or less already living together. And when we had to be apart, neither of us was happy. So his condo went on the market.
“You’re too kind,” I snark back. “Are you all packed? We should get on the road soon.”
“Yeah, I think I got everything. I’m just going to grab a stamp and run this out to mailbox so it goes out today.”
“Okay. I’ll go grab the bags,” I say. I don’t get far before a ringing phone on the arm of the couch stops me. It’s Ennis’s phone, but I don’t think twice about picking it up and hitting the button to take the call.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hello,” comes the tart reply. Ennis’s mom. “I thought I called my son.”
“You did. He’s just in the other room. This is Jack,” I add, like she doesn’t know.
“I know,” she says. “Could you get him, please?”
“Sure thing; hang on. Babe! Your mom’s on the phone! Honey? Sweetie?” I shout with the phone on my shoulder.
Ennis told his parents about us once we were back together for good, and I went home with him for the holidays last year. I know his folks aren’t thrilled he’s gay, but they really seem to have a bug up their asses that he’s with me. Maybe it’s because they tried so hard to keep up apart when we were younger, or maybe they think I turned him gay. Who knows? I try not to let it bother me and to have a little fun with it when I can.
Ennis wanders back into the living room and rolls his eyes. “That’s enough,” he whispers, but he’s smiling as he grabs for the phone. I hold it out of reach until he gives me a kiss, then I hand it off and he says, “Hi, Mom,” as he heads out the door for the mailbox.
I make my way upstairs. We’re taking a long weekend trip back to the same B & B in the Berkshires we went to the year before. It’s kind of an anniversary trip since it feels like that’s where we got our shit together and got started for real.
I zip my overnight bag and drop it onto the floor. I start to zip Ennis’s bag, but then think better of it. While he isn’t the world’s worst packer, he’s guaranteed to short himself at least a few pairs of socks and boxer briefs (not that I mind him going commando). I grab a couple pairs of socks and shorts from his dresser and carry them over to his bag. I find the socks-and-underwear section in his bag and shove the extras inside, but my hand hits something hard under his first pair of briefs. I push them out of the way and see a small black box, a jeweler’s name emblazoned across the top.
Well, fuck me.
Ennis del Mar has an agenda for this weekend, and I have a good idea of what it is, especially thinking back on our little misunderstanding a year ago. I cover the box, put the extra clothes on top, and zip his bag. I smile to myself as I head downstairs, a bag in each hand. I knew whenever, however he decided to ask, it would be right. And I’m not freaked out; I know what my answer will be.
As I reach the last step he comes through the door, his sunglasses hooked on the neck of his t-shirt. He reaches for me and pulls me in for a kiss. “You’re awful smiley,” he said when we separate. I just shrug and keep smiling. He presses his nose into my hair and inhales. “You ready, baby?” he asks.
I look up at him. “You bet.”
We walk out the door of our house into the bright fall sunshine. Most of the time now, Ennis and I are just a regular, settled-down couple. The past doesn’t rear its head much anymore, and I don’t worry that he’ll up and leave. But some days, like today, as I watch him, his strong, tanned arms tossing our bags into the trunk of the car, the flash of his smile as he slams it shut, I swear to god we’re one of the wonders of the world.
Truth? I’m good with us either way. Because after ten years and what felt like a million tears, and a thousand miles between us, we ended up back where we started and, it so happens, where we belong. Together. And I’m not giving that up for anything.
today
yesterday