The Naked Remedy Read online

  Fisher made a soft moaning sound the second we touched. It reverberated through my skin, compounding my desire, and I cupped the back of his neck to hold him even closer. It wasn’t for him. It was for me. My knees wanted to buckle, and I needed his strength. As much as that, though, I needed to hold onto him so I could remember this long after he’d gone back to Florida.

  This was it. My first real kiss. Sharing it with Fisher made it all the more special.

  When we parted, I was afraid to let go. With my eyes squeezed shut, I rested my forehead on his and simply breathed him in.

  “And that is why I didn’t trust going back to my hotel room,” Fisher murmured.

  I chuckled. “So it’s not just me?”

  “Definitely not.”

  My spirits soared. I had never felt so free in my whole life. I didn’t care if I opened my eyes and discovered we had an unexpected audience. None of them mattered. I was here, with my boyfriend, in probably the most perfect moment ever. I could do anything.

  I straightened and tightened my grip around his hand. “Want to start walking?”

  His radiant smile beamed up at me. “Absolutely.”

  * * * *

  The Bulb turned out to be more than a dog park. Artists had come in over the years and used it as their muse, reclaiming rubble to create sculptures or painting murals on any surface they could find. On one of the shores, Fisher and I stood in front of a statue made of scrap metal, driftwood, and trash that had us mesmerized for almost half an hour. It stood at least ten feet high and looked like a woman with her arms stretched to the heavens, welcoming people to her little corner of the world. At one point, a man walked behind us and muttered something about how ugly it was. Fisher glanced at him once he was out of earshot.

  “It’s sad that some people don’t get it,” he commented.

  I did. I now understood what had intrigued Fisher so much from the description. While the sight of so many homeless people using the park as an encampment saddened me, the constant surprises from the art and the joyous dogs that seemed to love the Bulb made up for it.

  We walked around almost four hours, holding hands the entire time, never running out of conversation. It was like our phone calls on steroids, with the added bonus of his skin touching mine. I didn’t want it to end, but when Dez called at six to check in with me, I knew we were on borrowed time.

  “How’s it going?” she chirped. “Is he everything you hoped he’d be?”

  “More.”

  “I really like him. I didn’t tell you that earlier in case it didn’t work out, but seriously, he’s the real deal. I should’ve trusted your instincts.”

  “No, you did the right thing,” I countered. “That’s what makes you such a good friend.”

  “Aw, you’re sweet. Did you grab his ass yet?”

  I laughed. “No, but not because I wasn’t tempted.”

  “You should. I’m seen my share. His is very grab-able.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement. Are you done for the day? Do I need to come get you?”

  “That’s probably not a bad idea. I don’t know where you are, but traffic is a bitch in this city.”

  Albany didn’t seem far on the map, but from what I’d seen a few hours earlier, I wasn’t surprised by her estimation. “Just tell me where.”

  “I wish we could’ve had more time,” Fisher said when I hung up. “Today flew by.”

  What an understatement. “Well, technically we could. I could pick Dez up first before heading to your hotel. It’s not just the two of us, but it’s better than nothing.”

  He slipped his arm around my waist as we headed back to the car. “And she won’t mind sharing?”

  “She’d probably insist on it.”

  Dez was right about the traffic. I hit gridlock trying to get back into the city almost as soon as we got back to the mainland. According to Fisher’s GPS app, it would take us almost forty-five minutes to travel the few miles across the bridge and into the city to get to Dez, so I pulled off to fill the car up with gas while I still had the chance.

  Fisher ran inside to get drinks while I pumped. When he came out, he wore a huge grin.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a familiar piece of paper and handed it over. “This is for you. I couldn’t resist.”

  Confused, I stared down at the SuperLotto Plus ticket. He’d purchased a single play. “Why?”

  His smile faltered. “That’s the game your mom plays, right? Or did I mess that up?”

  “No, you’re right.” I’d forgotten I’d told him about Mom’s obsession. “But why did you buy me a ticket?”

  “I didn’t plan on it. But while I was standing in line, the guy in front of me said to the cashier, ‘I’m feeling lucky. Gimme a Quick Pick.’ And I thought, there’s no way he’s as lucky as I’ve been today. So I decided to take a chance.” He pointed out the numbers. “My flight to San Francisco, today’s date, and two because today was our second date.”

  The romanticism of his choices made this the best present I’d ever received. “What’s the Mega number?” As far as I could tell, it didn’t correspond to anything significant in our magical day.

  “The day I launched my blog.” He offered the reply almost shyly. “I figured, without it, I never would’ve met you.”

  I would never second-guess a gift from Fisher ever again.

  “I’ll take it on one condition,” I said, though really, there was no way I could’ve refused the ticket after hearing his reasons for it.

  “What’s that?”

  “If I win, we both quit our jobs and move to the Caribbean for our third date.”

  Fisher laughed and pulled me into a quick hug. His lips grazed my ear when he answered, “Absolutely.”

  Chapter 11

  Wednesday at work, my mood swung between elated—I saw Fisher! He called me his boyfriend!—to melancholy—When am I going to see Fisher again? Will his work let him come back to California after turning down the promotion?—depending on how much free time I had to let my thoughts wander. It was no wonder I was blue when I got home. I’d had the entire car ride to dwell on all the negatives.

  Mom was in the kitchen, sliding the tetrazzini into the oven, when I walked in. I hadn’t seen her since getting back. It had been after two in the morning when I dropped Dez off, and I was off for my early shift at the hospital before Mom and Dad woke up. She broke into an excited smile at my entrance.

  “Well?” she asked. “Did you have fun?”

  Her excitement rubbed off on me, especially since it brought back all the memories from yesterday. “It was the best.” I came up beside her and pecked her on the cheek. “How long before dinner?”

  “Long enough for you to go change and then come back to tell me all about San Francisco and your new friend before we eat.”

  Though I shook my head at her enthusiasm, I trotted off to do as she said. I would have to censor what I told her, but it would be easier in the long run if I kept my parents in the loop. I wouldn’t have to lie again if he made it back to the west coast.

  Stripping out my scrubs, however, it dawned on me. Yes, I would be lying. Because they would always think he was only my friend when he was really so much more. How was I going to hide my feelings about him? Fisher claimed my emotions were an open book. Was that just him, or did that hold true for my parents, too?

  I’d hidden my sexuality from them all these years, though, hadn’t I? This would be more of the same.

  But even as I tried out that rationalization, I knew it didn’t hold water. It wasn’t the same at all. Being attracted to guys and falling in love with one were entirely different.

  It wasn’t love yet, but I couldn’t delude myself that I wasn’t well on my way there. Fisher was everything I’d ever wanted and more. Yesterday had only confirmed it.

  Would the woman who wanted me so desperately to have a girlfriend be able to see it in my face when I talke
d about him?

  I literally had no idea.

  I could make a case for either side. If anyone could see it, it should be the person I lived with, the person who’d known me longest, the person who’d held me as an infant, held my hand when I was terrified about walking into my kindergarten class, played Scrabble with me on prom night because I couldn’t find the nerve to go by myself. But that same person also asked me fairly regularly about girls, and who I thought was cute, and never once said the same thing about guys. She went to a church where people like me were preached against. She could very well hold the same beliefs they did.

  Anything could happen. It was beyond my control.

  So take the control back.

  I could practically hear Fisher say it. He would never tell me to do something I wasn’t comfortable with, but he would applaud any action I took beyond my comfort zone.

  What if I told her everything? It wouldn’t matter what she saw in my face then.

  I sank to the edge of my bed, my shirt dangling from my hand. Coming out to her was a huge step. I wasn’t prepared for it. I didn’t want to risk getting kicked out or locked out of my parents’ lives. I needed them.

  For what?

  Not food and shelter. I made enough to support myself. Emotional support? They couldn’t give that completely, either, because I didn’t confide in them about my problems.

  Acceptance.

  I needed Mom and Dad to accept me. They were all I had.

  But that wasn’t true anymore, either. I had Dez. She hadn’t even blinked when I told her about Fisher. And there was Fisher who thought I was pretty wonderful in spite of my insecurity and lack of experience. If the worst happened and I got kicked out, I didn’t have to stay in Coughlin. I could move somewhere like San Francisco that was more accepting, or even go down to L.A. with Dez. It would be hard, but I could do it.

  The worst might not even happen, too. I’d never heard Mom and Dad say a single homophobic thing in my life. They’d probably be confused, but they were good people. They loved me. It might not be so bad.

  My stomach didn’t agree. I felt like I was going to throw up.

  But the longer I sat there, the more I realized I had to do this. I didn’t want to be a liar for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to be scared. I’d seen what life could be like when I could be open and honest and—most importantly—me. I wanted that all the time, not just behind closed doors, and the only chance I had to make that happen was if I told Mom the truth.

  My palms were sweating when I went back to the kitchen. Mom was washing dishes, so I picked up a towel to begin drying. I had a plan, a bare sketch of one, but having my hands busy would help my nerves.

  “Since the house is still standing, I guess you and Dad didn’t have a huge party while I was gone,” I said.

  “Oh, we did,” she replied. “But we’ve had years of experience, learning how to clean up after ourselves.” She nudged me with her elbow. “What about you? You didn’t get in until late.”

  “Dez and I didn’t get on the road until after eight.” And I’d driven like a madman to make up for it. Not a detail I would share with Dad. “I lost track of time.”

  “What did you end up doing?”

  I told her about the Bulb and its colorful history and the weird, beautiful artwork that called it home. When I got to the part about the stranger’s commentary on the sculptured woman on the beach, she made a moue of disdain.

  “Such sorry little lives some people have,” she said.

  My pulse jumped. It was hard not to hope for the best when her sentiments matched Fisher’s so closely.

  “Fisher got something for me when we were done at the park.” I set aside the towel to reach into my back pocket. “Here.”

  Her reaction to the lottery ticket was more animated than mine had been. “Oh! Does he play the lotto, too?”

  “No, but he knows you do. I told him all about it. He bought it for me because he said yesterday was the luckiest day of his life and he wanted me to have some of it.”

  “Because you went down to chauffeur him around? But that’s what friends do. There’s no luck in that.”

  “It was actually more than that, Mom.” I took a deep breath. It was too late to stop now. “It was more like a…date.”

  For a long minute, she just looked at me. Every part of me wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake a reaction her, but I was glued to my spot, frozen in fear of what was to come next.

  “With Fisher?” she finally asked.

  I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Yes.”

  “Was that the arrangement before you went down to see him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you like him?”

  I nodded. “A lot.”

  “Does he treat you well?”

  “Better than I probably deserve.”

  Her eyes softened. “Oh, Noah…” Before I could move, she stepped forward and enveloped me in a hug.

  The world tunneled around us. For several seconds, nothing felt real. Not her arms. Not her questions. Not my truth. Then my knees began to buckle, and I returned her embrace, holding her more tightly than I had since hitting puberty.

  “You deserve everything,” she whispered. Her voice was thick. Was she crying? My eyes felt wet. I definitely was. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

  I don’t know how long we stood there. Time didn’t matter. But my legs felt stronger, and my body felt lighter when we finally broke apart. I wiped away the moisture from my cheeks.

  There was nothing but love on her face as I gazed down at her, but I had to be sure. “You’re not upset?”

  “By what?”

  “That I’m gay.”

  “Why would I be upset?” she said. “It doesn’t change who you are.” She hesitated. “How long have you known?”

  I shrugged. “Sometimes I think I’ve always known.”

  “Are we really that scary?”

  “What?” Then I got it. “Because I didn’t tell you until now?”

  Her affirmation hit me squarely in the gut. “Your dad and I used to wonder about it. But then you never said anything so I thought, maybe we were wrong.”

  I took a step back. This was all new to me. “I thought I was so careful about not letting it show.”

  “You were,” she reassured. “But who knows you better than we do?”

  Exactly the argument I’d used to convince myself to tell her now. “So why did you keep asking me about girlfriends?”

  Her cheeks pinked. “Because if we were wrong and I’d asked you about boys instead, I would’ve messed up your self-confidence even more, now wouldn’t I?”

  She had a point. “It was never really you. I was just afraid. Of getting teased even more, getting ostracized, losing your respect. Coughlin isn’t exactly a haven for the LGBT community, you know.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to let you feel safe with us. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy.”

  Which explained her questions about Fisher. “Do you want to see him?” I asked.

  Mom brightened. “Of course!”

  Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through my pictures. We hadn’t taken a lot of pictures of us, but I had one that Dez had insisted on taking when we got to Fisher’s hotel. In it, we’re standing face to face, our arms around the other’s waist, our heads turned toward her so she could snap the photo.

  My second kiss had happened right after the moment she captured.

  Mom smiled when she saw it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so relaxed. Look at that smile! Fisher is a very lucky guy. No wonder he insisted on buying a lotto ticket.”

  “Mom!”

  “What? It’s true.”

  I couldn’t even be annoyed with her. My spirits were too buoyant.

  Then I remembered. I had two parents. One of them still needed to be told.

  “Will you help me tell Dad?”

  “If you want,” she said. “But you don’t
need it. He loves you as much as I do.”

  I hugged her again. That was all I needed to hear.

  * * * *

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as we were finishing up our Jell-O and Pat Sajak was introducing the newest puzzle. Before & After. Yuck. I hated those. Most of the time, they were just dumb.

  Mom glanced over as I pulled out my phone. “Anything important?”

  It was from Fisher.

  Finally home. Can I blog about our date for tomorrow?

  “Fisher just texted to say he got home safely.” But I was focused on my reply, too excited to keep it in any longer.

  Of course. I trust you. Have time to talk?

  Always.

  I leaped from my chair. “Be right back!” I called out as I raced for my room. Behind me, I thought I heard Dad chuckle, but I already had my phone to my ear, waiting for Fisher to pick up.

  “You are never going to believe what happened,” I said before he even had the chance to say hello.

  “We hit the lottery.”

  “Better than that.”

  Fisher laughed. “What’s better than winning millions of dollars?”

  “I told my parents I’m gay.”

  Silence filled the line. Then, a more cautious Fisher said, “What?”

  “I told them,” I repeated. “Mom started asking questions about what happened, and I decided I didn’t want to have to lie about you anymore. So I told her the truth, and guess what? She hugged me. She actually hugged me.” I fell back onto my bed to stare up at the ceiling. I still couldn’t quite believe how fortunate I was. “And it’s all because of you. You and your blog and everything you’ve done for me.”

  “No, this is you. You’re the one who actually did it. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  “But you gave me the courage to follow through this time,” I insisted. “Seeing everything you’ve done…it’s inspiring. And I know it’s hard, and that sometimes you wish you could take the easy route, but you’ve never given up. Not really. I just took a page out of your playbook. I stepped out of my comfort zone and took a chance.”

  “I always knew you could,” Fisher said. “I’m so proud of you, Noah.”

  I preened under his praise. “Know the best part of it all? I don’t have to hide about how I feel about you now. I showed Mom that picture Dez took of us. Even she could see how happy we are.”