Wilby Wonderful: Tumbleweeds

Tumbleweeds

Pairing: Duck/Dan from Wilby Wonderful

Story notes: This is the first of three Wilby pieces I’m planning on writing. The one takes place right after the movie ends, the second one will be one week/month later and the third one will be six months down the line. While they all have the same overall story arc, each should hopefully stand on their own. These stories are a true labor of love. I have never been so touched by a movie. And my hope is that I have in some way captured the spirit of the film. One of the great things about Wilby is that with it’s minimal back story, there is such rich earth to sow. So everyone, get planting.

Speaking of planting, the history behind the tree near the end of this story was adapted from here: http://www.outdoorns.com/ancient.htm

Author’s Notes: This fic owes much to Pirl as most of the fertile little details and back story were spun in chats with her. And this fic is dedicated to her because not only does she encourage and enable me, complete with soundtracks and beautiful artwork, but she also said, “what the hell,” and hopped a plane to Toronto to see it three times with me on the big screen.

All for you, darling.

And while I do so love Canada, I am not Canadian nor do I play one on TV. I have done my best to capture the spirit of the film, but I am American, so if anything seems incorrect culture-wise, please let me know, and I humbly apologize in advance.

Thanks also to RileyC for beta. Any mistakes within are solely my own.

And finally, these guys aren’t mine. I’m just playing in the glorious Wilby sandbox. No infringement intended or profit made.

*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~

Tumbleweeds
by Maverick

It had taken a few days, but things in Wilby had returned to normal. News of Dan Jarvis and The Watch scandal had washed out to sea as new gossip about a famous Mainlander’s love nest on the south end of the Island rolled in. One good thing about Islanders was that as a general rule their attention spans were short.

After three days of observation, Dan was deemed no longer a danger to himself and was set to be released from Wilby Medical Center. The staff toned down the remaining gossip to mere whispers as he waited for Duck MacDonald to come pick him up. Duck had been Dan’s most steadfast visitor, but others came to see him as well. Sandra Anderson and her daughter Emily stopped by each morning with coffee and donuts. The Motel staff sent over a fruit basket and Buddy and Carol French stopped in with heartfelt apologies. Dan accepted each offering with a shy grace, moved by each kindness.

But it was Duck’s seemingly constant presence that truly buoyed his spirits. Even when Duck left each night after visiting hours, the sweet smell of the handpicked flowers he brought everyday lingered, blanketing Dan as he drifted off to sleep.

Dan sat in the chair and looked out the window as he waited for his release papers. Oddly enough, deciding life was indeed worth living, and then almost dying in a freak accident brought with it an incredible sense of clarity. It was like he had awoken from a long slumber. Life no longer seemed so barren or bleak. The sun now warmed his face, the flowers smelled sweeter, the coffee tasted better, and the feel of Duck’s rough hand, his strong thumb stroking along his jaw, held its own epiphany. Desolation had given way to a bounty he could never have imagined. And that revelation was no more apparent than when Duck kissed him. Soft, chaste kisses that infused him with such hope and promise that he felt electrified, like he was truly alive for the first time in his life.

As if on cue, Duck appeared in the doorway, his good shirt replaced by a navy blue T-shirt under his white painter overalls. But it wasn’t his clothes that Dan noticed. It was his smile, the way Duck’s eyes seemed brighter when he looked at him.

“You ready to go?” Duck asked walking across the room to where Dan was seated.

Dan smiled and nodded. “Just waiting on the final release papers.” Taking in Duck’s appearance once more, he added, “I’m not keeping you from work, am I?”

Duck leaned against the window sill behind Dan, letting his hand rest on the other man’s shoulder. “You might be,” he said with a smile. “But the great thing about being your own boss is you usually don’t get in trouble for leaving work early.”

Dan looked down, suddenly feeling shy. “I’m sorry. You can just drop me off at the motel then or I could take a cab.”

“No, I can’t,” Duck said, moving around to squat down in front of Dan’s chair. Placing his hands on Dan’s thighs, he splayed his fingers and squeezed. He shook the legs gently, knocking the knees together to make the other man meet his eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m where I want to be. And I’m not just taking you back to the Motel. We’re going to have lunch and enjoy this beautiful day like we planned.”

Dan looked down at Duck’s hands on his legs. “I just don’t want to be a bother.”

Pitching himself forward, Duck leaned in until his mouth was against Dan’s ear. “Does it look like I’m bothered?” Lifting his head slightly, his breath warm against Dan’s skin, he nuzzled the other man’s temple. Pulling back, he looked directly into Dan’s eyes. “Working my way up to hot and bothered, maybe,” he said with a wink. “But we have plenty of time for that. Today, we’re just going to celebrate your release.”

Dan put his hands over Duck’s that were still pressing into his thighs. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive,” Duck said, his voice hitching as Dan’s thumb began sweeping across his hand. “I figured you weren’t up to a big scene, so I asked Sandra to just make us something to go. I thought maybe you’d like a picnic?”

“That...” Dan had to clear his throat. “That sounds nice. Where? The Watch?”

“No, not The Watch. There’s a small dune on the far side of the lighthouse. My Dad used to bring my Mum there to watch the sunset.”

“Won’t it be crowded?”

“No, it’s kind of hard to get to, so most people don’t bother. Me, I always thought that things that took a little more effort usually turned out to be worth it.” Duck looked into Dan’s eyes, letting him know he wasn’t just talking about the view.

Dan squeezed Duck’s hands and smiled.

A polite cough at the door made them both look up to find the nurse standing in the doorway with a wheelchair. "Mr. Jarvis, I just need your signature here,” she said holding out a clipboard. “And then you’re free to go.”

Duck stood up and moved to the side so Dan could do the same. Dan quickly signed the papers. “Is that really necessary?” Dan asked looking down at the wheelchair.

“I’m afraid so, it’s hospital policy. Please have a seat.”

As Dan settled into the chair, Duck picked up Dan’s duffel bag off the bed. “Is this it?”

Dan looked up and smiled. “Yes, except for the flowers.” He nodded at them on the bedside table.

Duck smiled back as he picked up the makeshift vase of wild flowers. Swinging the duffel bag over his shoulder, he followed Dan and the nurse out of the room. “I’m parked out back.”

When Dan stood up and walked out the hospital door, he stopped for just a moment to appreciate the beautiful day. The sun was warm and bright and the smell of freshly cut grass hung in the air.

Duck turned and looked over at Dan. “You, OK?”

Dan took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m good. It’s just beautiful today.”

Duck nodded, his eyes never leaving Dan’s. “Yeah, it’s beautiful all right.”

~*~*~*~

Having only worked until noon the day before, Duck went to work early the next day. He’d been painting Mildred Knowles’s house a bright canary yellow since first light that morning. He was happy to be busy though. It left him with less time to dwell on the fact that Dan would be coming over for dinner that evening. He was excited, but a bit nervous as well. He knew he should take things slow with the other man, but it was hard. He felt a connection with Dan that was so strong and so undeniable that it took all his self-restraint to stop himself from rushing things. And it wasn’t just what Dan had been through in the last few months that had him holding back, it was something so much more.

He wanted to do things right, he wanted to court the other man, like his Dad had courted his Mum. He had found a measure of peace since returning to Wilby that made him okay with the prospect of spending his life alone. But since he’d met Dan, he realized that while he would be okay alone, he didn’t want to be. He wanted friendship. He wanted companionship.

He wanted love.

After stopping to pour himself a glass of sweet iced tea from his thermos, he sat down under Millie’s weeping willow tree, his back up against the trunk, and let his mind wander back to their picnic. Dan had been quiet when they stopped into Iggy’s to pick up lunch, but he’d insisted on coming inside with Duck to again say thank you to Sandra and Emily. Of course Irene had been there, spiteful mouth at the ready, but Duck had glared at her when they entered. A glare so harsh that it kept her quiet and looking out the window as Sandra handed over the picnic basket full of food.

Once they got to the dune, Dan had opened up a little, sharing details of his life. Duck now knew he grew up in Fox Crossing, a picturesque little town, situated on a tiny river delta in a valley northeast of Vancouver. It was a town founded by trappers and while slightly bigger than Wilby, it carried the same ambiance. Dan had chuckled then explaining that by ambiance, he meant that just like in Wilby everyone knew everyone else’s business. Dan told him that both his parents were still alive and lived in Vancouver. He’d gotten quiet when he spoke of them, so Duck changed the subject to his own parents and why the dune had been so special to them. He told Dan how his Mum would sneak out of her house to meet his Dad on the beach.

And when they had finished eating their fried egg sandwiches and potato salad, they stretched their legs out and leaned back against the boulder that lined the edge of the dune. It was then that Dan had reached out and taken Duck’s hand in his as they watched the sun skip and sparkle across the water. They sat in silence listening to the lapping of the sea.

Duck was so lost in his remembering that he didn’t hear Millie approach.

“My, that is bright isn’t it? But you warned me about that, didn’t
you?”

Shaken out of his reverie, Duck stood up and walked over to where Millie was standing. “It won’t seem that way once it’s all done. It’s just the contrast of the new color next to the old one.”

Millie patted his arm. “You’re probably right. I’m off to my bridge party. I made you that strawberry rhubarb pie you like so much. It’s cooling on the counter.”

“You didn’t have to do that, ma’am, but thank you.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but Katy MacDonald was my best friend for over 50 years, so let an old lady spoil her son a little.”

Duck just nodded his head.

“Don’t work too much longer, I know you have plans tonight.”

“Plans?” Duck said wondering how she could possibly know about his date with Dan.

“Yes, plans. Have you forgotten that this is Wilby? He’s a nice boy. When Jack got sick, he’d bring John Wayne movies to the hospital free of charge. He’s a quiet one, but he and Jack could talk about movies for hours.”

Duck remembered seeing Dan at Jack’s funeral a few months back. “That sounds like him.” And it also explained why Dan was so touched when he’d brought some Western movies for them to watch at the hospital.

“And for the record, I think your Mum would have liked him.”

“Really?” Duck asked, though he thought so as well. His Mum would have liked Dan a lot.

Millie reached up and patted Duck’s cheek. “Really, all she ever wanted was for you to be happy, and you looked pretty happy over there a minute ago. Now lean on down here and let me give you a kiss.”

Duck did as Millie asked, “Thank you again.”

She kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome and don’t forget to take the pie with you,” Millie reminded him, knowing his thanks were for much more than the pie.

~*~*~*~

Dan had spent most of the morning looking through real estate ads in one of the back booths at Iggy’s. Having signed over most of his assets to Belle, he was kind of strapped for cash. He took a sip of his coffee and smiled ruefully. That’s what happens when you didn’t finish what you started. But he couldn’t really be too mad at himself for not going through with it. Life was so full of possibilities if you let yourself see them.

“Mind if I join you?” Sandra asked setting down a plate of muffins on the table.

Dan looked up and smiled. “Please,” he said, waving his hand toward the seat across from him. He’d only known her a short while, but Sandra has proven herself to be a kindred spirit.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m good.” And truth be told, he was. And that realization still left him breathless. He figured it probably would for a long time to come.

Sandra picked up a blueberry muffin and broke it in half. “I have a proposition for you,” she said between bites. The stricken look on Dan’s face made her laugh. “Don’t worry, not *that* kind of proposition.”

“Sorry, I...” Dan looked down, face red with embarrassment.

Reaching out, Sandra, patted Dan’s arm. “Well with my reputation, you’d have to wonder. Actually though, it’s a business proposition.”

Dan looked up, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. I heard you weren’t planning on reopening your video store.”

“That’s right, I put the building and the house in Belle’s..., my wife, ex-wife’s name, when I planned...” Dan trailed off waving his hands.

Sandra nodded in understanding, patting Dan’s arm again. “What about the movies?”

“Those I still have. Why are you asking?”

Sandra smiled. “That’s where the proposition comes in. What do you think about maybe setting up shop here with me?”

“Renting videos out of the diner?”

Sandra nodded yes. “In the space upstairs. There used to be a pool table and some dart boards, but the former owner took them when he left, so that big old room is empty.”

“I don’t...”

“You don’t know what to say?” Sandra slid out the booth and smiled down at him. “Well why don’t we go upstairs and take a look and then you can say yes.”

Dan stood up to follow her. It couldn’t hurt to look. “You should know I’m kind of financially strapped at the moment.”

Sandra looked over at him as they climbed up the stairs. “Me too. See we’d be perfect partners.”

Dan couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. He looked around the empty room and could see the store in his head. The space was perfect, bigger than the old place. All it needed was some shelves and a checkout counter. If he wanted to stay in Wilby, and he had decided in the hospital that he did indeed want to stay there, he would need a job. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “I’ll take it,” he said, surprising even himself.

She smiled wide. “I thought you’d take more convincing than this.”

Dan nodded his head in agreement. “Me too. But if I’ve learned anything these last few weeks, it’s to appreciate the opportunities given to you.”

“Shall we shake on it, partner?” Sandra asked, extending her hand to Dan. “We’ll work out all the details later.”

Dan shook her hand before running his fingers through his hair. He felt suddenly winded.

“Are you all right.”

He nodded yes. “I just get overwhelmed sometimes.”

“Overwhelmed?” Sandra asked concerned.

“With how amazing life can be.”

Sandra smiled in agreement.

~*~*~*~

Duck left Millie’s place early as she had instructed and had come home to start dinner and straighten up. Checking the clock on the wall, Duck realized that Dan would be there in a little over an hour. Draping his Mum’s lace tablecloth across his kitchen table, he exhaled deeply when he noticed his hands were trembling. While he normally went through life with a comfortable ease, he couldn’t seem to shake the nervous flutter in his stomach. He’d almost forgotten the sweet buzz that accompanied honest desire. But this time that desire was tempered by something far greater. Love. He was falling in love. It felt like his heart might burst from it. Running his hands through his hair, he exhaled once more. Man, he had it bad.

He hadn’t talked to Dan since he had dropped him back at the Motel the night before and it had him restless. When Dan was in the hospital, he’d visited several times a day, so this was the longest he’d gone without seeing him since that first night. How things had changed in just a matter of days. He gasped sharply as the thought that Dan might not show up hit him like a punch to the gut. No, he’d be there. He would.

Leaning against the door frame between the kitchen and the living room, he ran his fingers across his lips, letting himself remember Dan’s mouth, soft against his own as they said goodbye in the truck the night before. He closed his eyes and let the memories wash over him. Dan’s fingers in his hair, thumbs stroking his cheeks. The first tentative slip of tongue between those slightly chapped lips. And the taste, Christ the taste of that mouth. Tart from the lemonade but oh so sweet. He knew from that first exploration, he’d never get enough.

With a shudder, Duck pulled himself out of his reverie. Stopping at the sink, he cupped his hand under the faucet and brought it to his now parched mouth. He needed to step it up, he still had things he had to do to get ready. Dan would be there soon.

Just out of the shower and clad only in his baggiest jeans, Duck was towel drying his hair when he heard the knock at the door. He grabbed his gray thermal shirt off the bed and pulled it over his head as he walked to the front door. “Hey, you’re early,” he said greeting Dan with a radiant smile. Not only had he come, but he was early. He studied Dan’s face, nervous but eager. Probably the mirror image of his own. He looked past Dan for a moment as he noticed the taxi pulling away. But then his focus was back on Dan who was holding a bottle of something and what looked liked an African Violet. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”

Dan shuffled his feet. “I wanted to.”

“Okay, come on inside.” Duck stepped to the side and let Dan inside. “You want me to take those?” he asked, his eyes on the bottle and the plant.

Dan cleared his throat. “Sure. I remembered you said you didn’t drink anymore, so it’s just sparkling grape juice, and I’d never seen a violet quite that color before, so I had to buy it. I thought maybe you’d like it.”

Duck squeezed Dan’s shoulder. “I love it. Thank you,” he said taking the items from Dan. “I don’t think I’ve seen one that color blue before either. Make yourself at home while I set these down in the kitchen.”

Having put the bottle into the refrigerator, he sat the violet in the middle of the table before heading back out to the living room. Stopping in the doorway, he could remember his mother saying that a good host always offered drinks straight away. And boy did he want to be a good host. “Can I get you a drink? I’ve got lemonade, home brewed sweet ice tea, which I should warn you is extremely sweet. Or we could open up the grape juice.”

Dan looked over at Duck. “Lemonade would be great.”

“Okay I’ll be right out.” After pouring a lemonade for Dan and a glass of tea for himself, he stood in the doorway once more and watched Dan studying one of the paintings on the wall. Duck walked over to where Dan was standing and handed him his glass.

“Thanks.” Dan took a sip and pointed to the picture on the wall. “Did you paint this?

“Yep. That was actually one of my first paintings. It’s not one of my best, but my Dad loved it. He died about six months after I painted it, so I’ve never been able to part with it.”

“It’s beautiful. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but it’s ice on a tree branch, right?”

Duck leaned back against the wall. “Wow, you get a gold star there, Cowboy,” Duck said, enjoying how the nickname brought a flush to Dan’s face. “Nobody ever figures out what I’ve painted.”

Licking his lips, Dan reached out and traced his finger along the canvas, “It's the curve here that gives it away. The heavy ice makes it bow but not break.”

“You wanna stop by Wilby High and tell Mrs. Applegate that for me? She told me I had no talent as a painter and should try industrial arts instead.”

“It’s beautiful,” Dan said fiercely.

Duck felt himself blush. “Thanks, my Dad always said I had a unique perspective and should be grateful for it. I’ve got a lot more out back in the workshop if you want to see then sometime.”

“I’d like that.”

Duck smiled. That was until he looked down and realized he’d left a pile of books stacked up on the old leather couch. He sat his drink on the end table. “Here, let me clear you a space to sit,” he said picking up the whole teetering stack at the same time. They began to wobble until Dan came to his rescue and helped steady the books as they set them down on the on coffee table. Their hands brushed against each other as they straightened the pile. “Sorry about that. I’d meant to straighten up a bit more before you got here.”

“No problem, I like that the place is lived in, you know?” Dan sat down on the newly cleared couch and patted the seat next to him. “After the hospital and the motel, it’s nice to be in a home.”

Picking up his drink, mouth suddenly dry, Duck nodded his head in agreement and sat down on the couch beside the other man.

“So, I take it you like to read?”

Duck turned to the side so he could look at Dan, a wry smile on his face. “Yes, contrary to the rumors going around town, I’m not dyslexic.”

“Carol mentioned the committee decided to leave the banners up as they are.”

“Yes they did, after I showed them the piece of paper that said, Wilby Wonderful.”

“Did anyone admit the mistake?”

“Not hardly, but I’m not going to dwell on it, I’ve been called worse than dyslexic. You saw Carol French today?” Duck couldn’t bring himself to speak to her yet. He knew Dan would have died if she hadn’t cut him down, but she shoved him into a cupboard under the stairs and that made the rage he kept so closely in check simmer to the surface.

Dan nodded. “There’s been an offer on the house.”

Duck had to set his drink back down for fear he’d drop it. “Really?”

“Yes, they matched the asking price which I guess is unheard of,” Dan said, closing his eyes as he sipped his drink, missing the stricken look on Duck’s face. “Not that it matters much to me as I signed it over to Belle.”

Duck cleared his throat. “So..ahh...when do you leave?”

Dan turned to face the other man. “Leave?”

“With the house sold, I figured you’d be leaving, what with everything that happened.”

Dan looked down and then over to Duck shyly. “No, I decided to stay in Wilby.”

Duck let a tentative smile cross his face, his heart beating a little faster. “Really?”

“Yes, what you said to me that night really hit home.”

Duck’s smile grew bigger. “What did I say?”

Dan smiled back. “That maybe it’d be better if everyone knew.”

“You really think so?”

Taking another sip of his drink, Dan shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but I do know I’m much happier today than I was last week, even with the whispers and innuendo.”

“I’m glad,” Duck said, putting his hand on Dan’s knee. “Glad to hear that you’re happy and glad that you’re staying.”

“Me too.” Dan closed his eyes as Duck’s thumb swept across his kneecap. He swallowed hard. “What’s for dinner.”

“Spaghetti, salad with the first tomatoes of the season from my garden, and strawberry rhubarb pie for dessert.”

Dan looked at him incredulously. “I thought you said you couldn’t cook, but you made strawberry rhubarb pie?”

Smiling, Duck shook his head. “No, Millie Knowles did. She was my Mum’s best friend, so she tends to spoil me just a bit.”

“I know her. Her husband Jack was a good customer and friend.”

Duck nodded. “I know, she told me today about how you’d bring movies to the hospital for him.”

“Well, we fans of westerns have to stick together.”

“Jack was a good guy. He and Millie looked after my Mum when I was away.”

Leaning forward to set his glass of lemonade on the coffee table, Dan put his hand over Duck’s on his knee and met the other man’s eyes. “That’s another reason I’m staying in Wilby. There are good people here.

“Yes, there are,” Duck said leaning over to brush his lips against Dan’s. Wrapping his arm around Dan’s neck, he ran his tongue along Dan’s bottom lip.

Dan shuddered, opening his mouth to Duck’s probing tongue, his own tongue sliding into Duck’s mouth.

They kissed like that until they both were breathless. With one last flick of his tongue across Dan’s teeth, Duck pulled back, letting his forehead rest against Dan’s. “I should go start the water for the spaghetti,” he said without making any move to break the contact. With a deep breath and a final sweep of his lips across Dan’s, he got up off the couch. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll come with you,” Dan said, following Duck into the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watched as Duck filled a pot with water. “When I was talking to Carol earlier, she referred to you as Walter. Should I call you that instead?”

Duck laughed as he turned on the gas stove. He looked back at Dan and smiled. “Would you prefer to be called Walter?”

Smiling back, Dan shook his head, no.

Duck pulled out a kitchen chair and motioned for Dan to sit. “My Mum was the only one who ever called me Walter. Even my Dad never called me that.”

“He called you Duck?”

Turning a chair to the side so he could watch the stove, Duck sat down. “No, he just called me Kid. I was named after my Mum’s father and let’s just say he and my Dad didn’t really get along.”

“Because your Dad was a sailor?”

Duck couldn’t stop the sweet chill that ran through him when he realized Dan remembered what they had talked about at the beach. “More because he wasn’t born an Islander. My Grandfather just never thought my Dad was good enough for his only daughter.”

“But your mother had other ideas.”

“Oh yeah, and my Mum was never one to let anyone tell her what to do. She always followed her heart.”

“So why Duck?”

“Well, like I mentioned yesterday, I was really short until my junior year in high school. And when I hit puberty, my voice pretty much quacked and honked for almost a year.” Duck stood up and pulled the already made salad out of the fridge, setting it on the table in front of him. “So, I became Duck. I hated it at first, but then I realized, it was better than Walter.”

“Well, I had the opposite problem,” Dan said quietly.

“Let me guess, you were tall at a young age.”

Dan nodded his head, blushing slightly. “Gangly is the word I would use. I was not the most coordinated kid in the world.”

“Did you have any nicknames then?”

Dan smiled ruefully, “A few I have chosen to forget. But my friend Angela, who just happened to be too tall herself, used to call me Colt.”

“And the cowboy in you liked that one,” Duck said with a wink. “I can see that though. It suits you, with your long legs and all.”

“Yes I did like it. Angela was a good friend, but we lost touch when my parents moved us to Vancouver.”

“Reach behind you and grab that cutting board for me would you?”

Dan handed it to Duck.

“Thanks.” Duck began slicing the tomatoes for the salad. “You’ve never said how you ended up in Wilby?” Duck looked over at Dan trying to gauge the other man’s reaction to that question. He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”

Dan smiled. “No, it’s okay. The company I worked for moved their corporate offices from Vancouver to Toronto. That’s when Belle and I got married.” Dan stopped and looked at Duck.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Duck said, reaching across the table to take Dan’s hand in his. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Dan squeezed Duck’s hand and shook his head. “No, I want to tell you. I loved Belle. I want you to know that. She was my best friend for a long time. There just wasn’t a physical…” Dan moved his head from side to side.

Duck nodded. “Okay”

Dan looked down, obviously pained. “I hurt her. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I just don’t want people thinking she’s to blame.”

“I can understand that.” No one’s to blame, he wanted to say, but he knew he had to let Dan get to that point in his own time and his own way. Duck stood up and walked over to the stove. “I’m just going to turn the water off, so you can finish, okay?”

Dan nodded. “So we were friends, spent most of our time together and we were both tired of Vancouver, so it just made sense to make the move together.”

Duck sat back down. “New places can be tough. It’s good you had someone.” And Duck was surprised that he really meant that. Belle might not have been right for Dan, but being alone when you didn’t want to be was worse.

Dan let out a deep breath. “So we got married. My parents were thrilled. They’d pretty much given up on me settling down. And of course, they started in about grandkids.”

“That’s got to be tough.”

Closing his eyes, Dan nodded and gave Duck a slight smile. “Belle said that was the best thing about moving so far away. We only got lectured once a week on the phone.”

“How long were you in Toronto?”

“A little over three years. After the first year, I was pretty miserable. I tried to blame it on my job, on the city, but I think...”

Duck nodded in acknowledge and reached out for Dan’s hand once more.

Dan grasped Duck’s hand, sweeping his thumb across Duck’s wrist. “So, I’d always told Belle, I’d love to just quit and open a video store somewhere like Fox Crossing. Just live the quiet life, you know.”

Duck nodded.

“So she surprised me on our anniversary with a trip to Nova Scotia and the surrounding islands. Wilby felt like home from the moment we stepped off the ferry.”

“It does have that feel about it even when you don’t want it to,” Duck said ruefully.

Still rubbing Duck’s wrist with his thumb, Dan ran the fingers of his other hand through his hair. “So we went back to Toronto. I gave notice, we sold our condo and I cashed in my stock options in the company. We weren’t rich by any means, but that gave us enough money to buy the house and open up the video store. And for a while, I thought it was perfect. I was happy.” Dan closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. “Of course it didn’t last.”

Duck didn’t know what to say to that, so he just held Dan’s hand tighter.

Neither spoke for a few minutes, but then Dan caught Duck’s eyes with his own. “So where did you live after you left Wilby?”

Duck smiled, honored that Dan has shared so much with him. For once he was happy to talk about himself. He squeezed Dan’s hand once more before standing up to start the water on the stove once more. “All over. Toronto, Vancouver. I even spent some time in the States. California, Oregon, New Mexico.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, I worked as a lumberjack, an electrician, painter, along with a bunch of other odd jobs.”

Dan chuckled. “Lumberjack?”

“Yep.” Duck smiled and winked. “And I’ve got the checkered shirt to prove it.”

Dan licked his lips. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“You got it,” Duck said, rubbing his hand on Dan’s shoulder as he reached behind him to get the colander off the shelf. “Okay, let me get the pasta started. You want to go bring our drinks in from the other room?”

“Sure.” Dan went back into the living room, catching his reflection in the mosaic tiled mirror above the fire place. He was startled to see the reflection staring back at him. It was someone who looked genuinely happy not someone who was faking it because that’s what he was supposed to be feeling. The eyes looking back at him held only a hint of sadness. Picking up the glasses, he headed back into the kitchen. “That mirror above the fire place is beautiful. Did you make it?”

Duck cocked his head to the side like he was surprised by the question. “Yes, I made it for my Mum. There’s a long story behind it. How ‘bout I tell you after dinner?”

“Sure. Is there anything I can do?”

“Refresh the drinks.”

Dan nodded and opened up the refrigerator and pulled out the lemonade and iced tea.

Taking the pasta off the stove, Duck dumped it into the colander in the sink. He then put it into the pot with the sauce, making a mess on the counter as he tossed it together. “Have a seat, I think we’re about ready.”

Dan sat back down at the table as Duck dumped a helping of spaghetti on the plate in front of him and then on his own plate. Dan picked up his spoon and twirled the pasta on his fork across the front of it. He took a bite and tried really hard not to grimace. He chewed and swallowed before reaching for his lemonade.

Duck took a bite of his own and spit it out into his napkin. “Fuck, I’m so sorry, that’s disgusting.”

“No, it’s not bad,” Dan said going in for a second bite.

Duck reached across the table and stopped him, picking up Dan’s plate. “You, Mr. Jarvis, are a very bad liar. And this slop is revolting. It really wasn’t my attention for our first real date to end with me giving you food poisoning.”

Dan blushed. “Date?”

Putting the plates in the sink, Duck returned to the table and scooted his chair closer to Dan’s. “And yes, date. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Dan closed his eyes and nodded. He looked up and leaned over to softly brush his lips against Duck’s, whispering, “Yes, it is a date.”

Duck smiled against Dan’s lips. “A date with really bad food. Please don’t judge me on my culinary skills.”

Dan patted Duck’s thigh under the table. “I promise I won’t. Besides, the salad looks great. You said, you grew the tomatoes?”

Duck leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes, I picked them this morning.”

“Well, who could ask for more than that?”

~*~*~*~*~

Drying his hands on the dishtowel, Duck stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Dan’s reflection in the mosaic-framed mirror. Dan had offered to help with the dishes, but Duck told him to just make himself at home. He liked the idea of Dan settling in, beginning to feel comfortable in his house. He hoped it was the first of many such evenings.

Dan’s eyes caught his in the mirror and his reflection smiled at him as he walked over to stand beside him. He reached out and touched the small of Dan’s back, holding his palm there, relishing the warmth for a moment before dropping his hand to his side. His eyes never left Dan’s in the mirror. “Coffee’s almost done. I promise at least *that* I can handle.”

“Okay. And the spaghetti...don’t worry about that.” Dan blinked and looked down before meeting Duck’s eyes once more. “Maybe I can cook for you next time?”

The refection of his own wide smile nearly blinded Duck. “I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”

The shy smile that lit up Dan’s face matched Duck’s perfectly. Maybe matched wasn’t the right word, complimented was better. Duck took a minute to just look at their reflection. They looked good together. Right. He’d never felt this type of connection with anyone.

And Dan... Dan seemed to be standing straighter, the weariness that cloaked him just a week earlier seemed to be gone. And where those blue eyes had been muted with despair, they were now unmistakably hopeful. Duck reached out again, this time cupping the nape of Dan’s neck, letting his thumb stroke back and forth
across his stubbled jaw.

Dan closed his eyes and shuddered. When he opened them again, he stretched out his own arm and mimicked Duck’s actions. And it was Duck’s turn to shudder.

When Duck could focus again, he could see the rapid rise and fall of Dan’s chest and his own, already in perfect cadence. He met Dan’s eyes again, and he knew that the other man was thinking the same thing. They just stood there for a few moments getting to know each other in the silence.

It was Dan who spoke first, his quiet voice echoing loudly in Duck’s ears. “You were going to tell me the story behind this mirror.”

Duck smiled, liking that Dan wanted to know his history. Reluctantly removing his hand from Dan’s neck, Duck tilted his head and motioned toward the couch. “You wanna sit? It’s kind of a long story. Just let me go grab the coffee.”

Dan just nodded and sat on the couch.

Duck popped his head back into the room. “Cream and sugar?”

“Both, please.”

Handing Dan both mugs of coffee, Duck sat down on the couch. He turned to the side, leaning back against the arm of the couch to face Dan, his hand across the back of the old leather couch.

Dan turned to face Duck, their knees brushing against each other, as he handed the other man his mug of coffee.

Duck took a sip. “Well like I said earlier, I made the mirror for my Mum.”

Dan nodded and stretched his arm out on the back of the couch behind Duck’s.

“The mosaic frame is made from china my Dad had given her. When they went on their first official date, they took the ferry across to the mainland to have lunch at this beautiful old church that had been turned into a restaurant. And my Mum fell in love with the china pattern. She’d never seen anything like it before.” Duck paused to take another sip of his coffee. “So, my Dad found out what the pattern was and every week, he’d present her with a plate or a cup with the promise that when she had a complete set, they’d get married.”

Dan smiled, his hand absentmindedly stroking Duck’s forearm on the back of the couch. “That’s a wonderful story.”

“My Mum used to love to tell that story and how he’d give her each piece wrapped with white butcher’s paper and a red ribbon.”

“He must have really loved her.”

Duck smiled and nodded. “He did. And she loved him too.”

“It must have been hard for her, for you both.”

Smiling sadly, Duck took another sip of his coffee. “At times. But she always said she wouldn’t have changed anything because she knew what it was like to be truly loved.”

Dan looked down and nodded.

Letting out a deep breath, Duck set his coffee down and rested his hand on Dan’s knee. “Anyway, getting back to the mirror. When my Mum had her stroke, she had been in the kitchen cleaning out the china cabinet and when she went down, so did quite a few of the dishes.”

“Oh no.”

“Yes, when she woke up that was all she remembered. She kept asking about her dishes and Millie, who was who found her, had to tell her that they’d gotten broken. My Mum was distraught.”

Dan reached out and massaged Duck’s neck. “I can understand that. They were like the last piece of your Dad for her.”

Duck tilted his head to give Dan’s stroking fingers better access. “Exactly. So by the time I made it back to Wilby, she had pretty much decided she wanted to die.”

Dan shuddered, knowing that feeling all too well. “That must have been hard for you.”

Duck snorted. “Oh yeah, I didn’t take it very well. And it was either go to the Loyalist and buy a bottle or create something to burn off the anger. I went out to the house and found the shattered pieces, Millie had picked them up and saved them because she knew how important they were to my Mum, and I decided to try to salvage them in some way.”

“So you made the frame?”

Duck nodded. “I actually was going to make a picture frame to put their wedding photo in, but I got ambitious. I’m a much better artist than I am a cook.”

Chuckling, Dan smiled. “Stop worrying about dinner.”

Duck leaned forward and gave Dan a quick peck on the lips. “Okay. So I put a mirror in the frame and took it to my Mum at the hospital. She didn’t want to look at it at first, but I propped it up on her bed and made her look at our reflection. I told her that just because something was broken, didn’t mean it wasn’t still beautiful.”

Dan’s breath caught. “What did she say to that?”

“She promised she’d work to get better and she did. I kept the mirror propped up in her room so she’d see it every day. And when she came back home, we hung it in her bedroom. She said when she stood there at night and looked in the mirror, she could almost see my Dad standing behind her smiling.”

Dan could feel the sting in his eyes. “That’s a beautiful story. And such a tribute to your parents.”

“Thanks, there’s a bit more to the story, but we’ll leave that for another time.”

Dan nodded, “Okay, thank you for sharing it with me.”

“Thank you for asking. Are you ready for that pie now?”

Dan nodded. “Sure.” He got up and followed Duck back into the kitchen.

Duck reached into the cupboard and pulled out two small plates. “Oh, I meant to ask earlier, where’s your car?”

Dan smiled. “Well, I loaned it to my new business partner.”

Serving the pie, Duck sat down across from Dan. “Business partner?”

“Yes, it seems Sandra and I are going into business together.”

Duck smiled around his mouthful of pie. “Really? Doing what?”

“This is really good,” Dan said, pointing to the pie with his fork.

Duck nodded. “Millie’s pie is the best. So the business?”

“I’m going to reopen the video store, but in the upper room at Iggy’s.”

A huge grin broke out across Duck’s face. “That’s a great idea.”

“It’s gonna take some work, but I think so as well,” Dan said taking another bite of pie.

Licking his lips, Duck leaned in close. “Well, I’m thinking you might know someone who’d be willing to help. And at a really good price.”

Dan blushed and looked down. “I didn’t want to presume.”

Reaching out, Duck cupped Dan’s jaw in his hand, his thumb stroking his cheek. “What’s to presume? That’s what friends do. And no matter what happens, we’re friends aren’t we?”

Dan closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes, we are friends. Good friends.”

“Glad to hear it,” Duck said with a smile. “Do you want another piece of pie?”

Dan just nodded yes.

~*~*~*~*~

“You really don’t have to walk me home,” Dan said, watching Duck pull on a pair of white socks.

Duck looked up and smiled. “I know I don’t have to. I want to,” Duck said, repeating Dan’s earlier words.

“Okay.”

Pulling his pant legs up, Duck slid first one foot and then the other into his well-worn work boots, long legs out straight in front of him. “It’s a beautiful night out. We should take advantage of it while we can. August always means rain.”

“I like rain. There’s something refreshing about it,” Dan said, watching the other man.

Duck looked up and smiled. “I like the rain too. Nothing’s more soothing than the sound of a light rain against the roof.” Standing up, Duck grabbed his beige jacket off the hook near the door. He looked back at Dan and frowned. “You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?”

Dan shook his head. “It was warm this afternoon.”

“I’m sure it’s a bit chilly now. Hang on a sec.” Duck walked down the hallway and came out of the bedroom carrying a brown barn jacket. “Here, you can wear this.”

“Are you sure?”

Duck held the coat open for Dan to put his arms in. “I’m sure.” Smoothing out the line of the coat across Dan’s back, Duck leaned up and kissed the nape of Dan’s neck. “It’s the least I can do after the spaghetti incident.”

Dan turned around, a slight flush on his face. “Thanks.”

“We don’t want you catching a chill,” Duck said heading for the door. “Do you want to take the scenic route?”

“Scenic?” Dan turned around to look at Duck who was shutting the door behind him.

The night air was crisp and the glowing moon provided a hint of natural ambiance. “Well we have two options, we could cut across the Wilby High School stadium and down Elm Street until we hit Main, or we can go the long way around, along the coast and Miller’s Woods.” Duck was hoping for the long way around because he wasn’t ready for the night to end, but he’d leave the decision up to Dan.

The breeze ruffled Dan’s hair. “Scenic sounds good to me.”

Clumping down the front stairs, Duck waited for Dan to follow. He smiled and winked. “I’ll give you the grand Wilby tour.”

Dan just nodded and walked close beside him.

Walking along the well worn path near the beach, Duck could feel the cool air blowing in off the water. It was refreshing and familiar in a way that only Wilby could be. “I love this time of night. When the town is quiet and all you can hear are the crickets and owls.”

“It is peaceful.”

Duck stopped in front of a huge sprawling tree, its base twisted and gnarled like an arthritic hand. “Okay, here we have the oldest tree in Wilby. This big yellow birch is over a thousand years old.”

Dan nodded. “I remember reading about this tree.”

“Yes, it’s only one of two left on Wilby. But when I was a kid, this tree was Mt. Everest. It was the tree that all the kids wanted to climb.” Duck’s face was illuminated in the moonlight as he talked about the tree with a reverence left over from his childhood.

Dan stepped to his side, curving his hand along Duck’s waist as they looked up a the tree. “Did you climb it?”

Duck grinned wide. “Of course, I did. Even left my mark.”

“Mark?”

“Mhmm, I carved my initials in one of the branches near the top.” Duck stretched his arm along Dan’s shoulders, and pointed with his other one.

“It was that important to you?”

“Oh yes, it was quite an accomplishment for a short kid. Nobody thought I’d be able to do it.”

Dan rubbed his hand along Duck’s waist. “So you made sure you did?”

Nodding, Duck leaned over for a quick kiss. “It took me all summer, but yes I did. Of course, I worked so hard getting up there, I forgot I’d have to get back down.”

“But you figured it out eventually?”

Duck nodded. “Yep. I got scrapped up a bit. Still have the scars to prove it.” Duck held out his hand, showing Dan the scar along the meaty part of his palm.

Dan held Duck’s hand in his own, his thumb sweeping across the scar.

Duck shuddered and cleared his throat. “I figured it was only fair. I carved my initials into it and it left its own mark on me.”

Dan bent his head forward and kissed the mark. He raised his eyes to Duck. “I’m glad we took the scenic route.”

“Me too.”

Even with Duck stopping every few minutes to reveal some other hidden Wilby treasure, the scenic route ended at Dan’s motel much too quickly for his liking. The evening had been perfect, even with his crappy spaghetti.

And as if Dan could hear his thoughts, he said, “I have a wonderful time tonight. Thanks for dinner and the walk.”

Duck smiled. “Thank you for coming over. I had a great time as well.”

“Do you want to come in?” Dan asked, leaning back against his motel door.

Duck smiled, reaching out to run his hand along Dan’s jaw. “Yes, I do. I really, really do. But I’m not going to.”

Dan reached out and drew Duck to him in a fierce hug. Long arms wrapped tight around him for all of Wilby to see. “You sure?”

Duck returned the hug just as hard and nuzzled Dan’s neck. “I am. We’ve got all the time in the world. No need to rush things.”

Dan exhaled softly and nodded. “Well here let me give you back your coat.”

Duck shook his head. Reaching down to grab either side of the coat, he leaned in for a kiss. He kept it short as he didn’t want to spook the other man. Making out on the couch was one thing, but French kissing out front of the Wilby motel was probably more than Dan was ready for. “Hang on to it until you come over again.”

“Okay,” Dan said, fingers threading through Duck’s hair as he bent down to deepen the kiss, his tongue stroking Duck’s into action.”

Duck opened his mouth and let Dan set the pace. He was very close to forgetting his promise to go slow as Dan’s hands snaked under his shirt and jacket, cool hands quickly warming his back. It was hard to argue with the allure of Dan’s fingers pressing into his skin, pulling him firmly against him. But he wasn’t a kid anymore and he wasn’t going to let his body override his heart. This was too important to mess up, so Duck reluctantly pulled his mouth away several seconds later. Breathing hard, he nuzzled Dan’s neck once more. “Meet me at Iggy’s for breakfast in the morning?”

Dan nodded, heart pounded and just as breathless.“What time?”

Duck pulled back and searched Dan’s face. The other man looked beautiful in the moonlight, lips wet from kissing, eyes full of desire. He rubbed his thumb across Dan’s bottom lip. “Eight.” he said, resting his outstretched arms on Dan’s shoulders.

“I’ll be there. Be careful walking home.”

Duck leaned in for one more kiss, this one more chaste. “Sweet dreams.”

“You too. And thanks again.”

“Night.”

“Goodnight,” Dan said, finally opening the door to his room and walking inside.

Once the door was shut, Duck ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a long breath. He began the long walk home. It was long really, it just seemed that way without Dan along to keep him company. As he shoved his hands in his pockets, he realized they were a bit shaky but this time it wasn’t nerves, it was his body buzzing with desire. He knew he did the right thing ending the night the way he did, but he was going to be hard pressed to get his body to agree with him. It’d be a long time before he’d get to sleep tonight. That was a thought. Maybe he could harness that energy into something productive.

He’d go back to his place and paint. It’s been a while since he’d been inspired to create something new, but Dan calling his painting beautiful made him remember how good if felt to have someone you cared about appreciate your artwork. That’s what he’d do, he’d paint a picture for Dan, maybe something with a western theme that he could hang in the new store. It wasn’t as grand a statement as a piece of china a week, but it’d show that this was not a casual thing for him. And maybe, just maybe if things turned out the way he hoped, with them finding their own brand of happily ever after together, the painting could mark the beginning of something wonderful.

Duck quickened his pace, wanting to get started building on that future, one brushstroke at a time.

~Fin~

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