Page 40 of Our Own Light
Oliver wasn’t certain whether or not that was some kind of joke.
“Ha, wow, yeah, death is always happy news, isn’t it?”
Effie laughed. “Well, she was old, and now we’re all invited over for some smoked meat. What do y’all think? I can fetch Josephine.”
“Let her play with William. She seemed excited about that today,” Floyd said.
“I reckon that means they’re up to no good,” Effie said.
“Yeah, probably not,” Floyd answered. “Margaret’ll watch them, though.”
Oliver cut in. “Is she William’s mom?”
“Yup, we’ll take her a plate of pork later,” Effie said.
“Well, I could eat,” Oliver said.
“Me, too,” Floyd said.
Effie’s face brightened. “Come on, then. Let’s head on over.”
When Floyd reached for Effie’s hand, Oliver tried not to show his envy. While the three of them walked to Frank and Martha’s house together, which wasn’t far from Floyd’s, Oliver kept his mind occupied by spotting the differences among the near-identical houses, like noticing that one house had a small flower garden in front of the porch, the purples and whites brightening up the view, while another’s shutters had been painted a bright shade of red. Focusing on the land around him helped the time pass without issue. Once they arrived at a house that looked like every other house, save for the mass of people chatting outside, Oliver breathed a sigh. Now, instead of focusing on how badly he wished that he could hold Floyd’s hand, he could fixate on how scary it was to partake in his first town-wide event.
Effie made the introductions. Oliver met Frank and Martha and Jonathan and Eleanor and many, many couples whose names he would likely not remember, and then, eventually, Oliver met a few other unmarried men, most of whom were very keen to talk about how they liked to travel to Charleston with some frequency, with the hope that they might meet a beautiful woman with whom they could settle down. Oliver, on the other hand, inadvertently confessed that he had no intention of marrying. Some cad had the fucking audacity to verbalize the very obvious fact that this was peculiar. Oliver hadn’t been able to stop himself from squirming uncomfortably when the fellow had said that. By the time some of the men left to help Frank finish preparing the meat, Oliver had lost most of his appetite. He wasn’t in the mood for pork, no matter how fresh. He wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, either. Instead, Oliver wanted to go home.
But, for the moment, he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from Floyd’s side. Effie had followed some women into the house to assist with the preparation of a couple of side dishes—coleslaw and strawberry salad—and now that Floyd wasn’t holding her hand, Oliver couldn’t make himself pass up the opportunity to be near him for as long as possible. It was horrible. He knew it was horrible of him. And twisted. And wrong. And any number of negative-sounding adjectives he could pull out of his ass. But, oh God, Floyd was so perfect. How could he resist?
“So, Oliver, where’d you say you were from?” a stout man whose name was either Marvin or Melvin asked.
“New York.”
“Do them men up there not like women or something?”
If Oliver had been sipping on water, this would have been the moment when he’d have inadvertently spat it in the other man’s face, making the two of them look like they were performing a silly scene for one of Chaplin’s films. Instead, Oliver simply stumbled through a response.
“Uh, what? No, they like women. Don’t all men like women?”
What a stupid comment to make, especially in front of Floyd. He couldn’t even bring himself to look over and see Floyd’s reaction.
“Hm.”
That was it. Hm. Two measly letters. And yet, those two stupid letters said so much. “What about you, then? Why aren’t you interested in finding a woman to sire your children? Is there something wrong with your pecker? Are you out of your head?” Not that any of these people talked like that, but still.
Some other unmarried man—one named Harry—cut in to say that he had traveled to New York once, which diverted the attention away from Oliver momentarily. He’d had just enough time to mentally recover when everyone started on the trials and tribulations of married life, which made Oliver feel terrible all over again, and the more time that passed, the more broken Oliver started to feel. He tried telling himself that none of it mattered, because he was happy to be unmarried, especially since it seemed to mean that he could covertly hold pinkies with a handsome man like Floyd beneath a sky filled with stars. Maybe Floyd hadn’t verbally confirmed that he reciprocated Oliver’s romantic feelings, but men tended not to be physically intimate with other men for the hell of it, right?
As Oliver was busy trying to make himself feel less horrible, Effie came by and stood next to Floyd, who immediately wrapped an arm around her. Effie whispered something to him, and Floyd whispered something back, and then the two of them laughed. God, they were together! What the hell was Oliver doing? Seeing Effie and Floyd be playful with each other was enough to open Oliver’s eyes and reveal to him how screwy this whole situation was. Floyd was married. He was married to a wonderful woman. Just like every other man in Rock Creek either was or wanted to be. Every other man except for Oliver.
Why had he thought that he could make this work? He wasn’t a coal miner. He wasn’t a West Virginian. He wasn’t any of the things he was supposed to be. Like always, Oliver didn’t belong. Why had he thought Rock Creek would be different? He and Floyd had shared a few nice moments together, but Floyd was taken. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with him?!
Effie smiled up at Floyd. “Would you mind coming out back to help Frank for a bit?”
“I’d be happy to,” Floyd responded. He looked over at Oliver. “You can come, too, Ollie. If you want.”
“Um, yeah,” Oliver said. “In a minute.”
And as soon as Floyd was out of sight, Oliver turned and left. He walked away without so much as uttering a word to anyone, no longer seeing the need for performances. Or for continued politeness. Because Oliver wasn’t heading home. He was heading to Charleston.
***