“Yeah. Is this the answer?”
Ed shook his head. “No. But…I think we might be able to figure something out.”
“I think you’re right.”
They fell back into silence. Sammy wasn’t eager to break it. He just wanted to enjoy the quiet. It pressed in around them, comforting in its own way. He didn’t know if they’d ever be able to figure anything out. He didn’t even know if they’d be alive a year from now. But, for the first time in their lives, neither one of them was alone. Sammy didn’t think he had the need, or the right, to ask for anything beyond that.
Epilogue
January 28, 1973
Santa Monica, CA
Sammy was a morning person. That fact didn’t surprise Ed, but it sure as hell annoyed him when Sammy began his day as the sun came up. To be fair, Sammy did try to keep quiet and avoid waking Ed, but Ed was naturally a light sleeper. Within an hour, he would be up, too. Sammy always had breakfast waiting for him—and he was always smiling—so Ed didn’t complain too much. Especially when they sat on the front porch together, each of them cradling a cup of coffee, and silently watched the seagulls swoop over the waves in search for their breakfast.
“Sure beats the hell out of Evanston, doesn’t it?” Sammy looked up at the blue sky with a wide smile. The weather had been chilly and overcast for the past few weeks, but Ed would take a bit of rain over several feet of snow any day.
“Yes, it does.”
If Sammy noticed Ed was less than enthused, he didn’t say anything. He wore shorts and a T-shirt, showing off the deep tan he had developed since they moved to the beach. His entire body was the same deep hue, and the tips of his hair had been bleached by the sun. He looked like a man who had been born to the beach—a man who had no intention of leaving any time soon. Even when the Pacific was too cold to swim or surf, he liked to stick close to the coastline.
“I feel like going for a drive today,” Sammy announced.
Ed sipped at his coffee. “Where do you want to go?”
“Maybe up north? We keep talking about going to Santa Barbara, and we’ve never made it.”
“What about San Diego?”
“We always go there.”
“Because the water is warmer there.”
Sammy tilted his head. “You make an excellent point. Bob and Casey are down there for the winter. We could crash with them.”
Ed grimaced. “I’d rather just sleep on the beach.”
“They’re not bad guys.”
“No, they’re great guys, except Bob can’t seem to grasp the fact that I have no interest in sucking his cock. He just whines at me, like he thinks he’s going to just break me down.”
“Maybe he should try slapping you around a bit first. That’s what convinced you to suck mine, wasn’t it?”
Ed snorted. “Yeah, I think that’s how it happened.”
“We don’t have to stay with them. Hell, we don’t have to go anywhere at all, if you don’t want to.”
“We’ll see,” Ed said before taking a sip of his coffee. Sammy always made it very strong. That was the way all the hands on his dad’s ranch took it. Sammy probably didn’t even know that you could make coffee that a spoon wouldn’t stand straight up in.
“Hey…did you see the news yesterday?”
“No. I spent most of the day with Kerin, gathering crabs.”
“Here.” Sammy thrust the newspaper into his face. “Read that and tell me if it says what I think it says.”
Frowning, Ed took the paper and scanned the headlines. He didn’t know quite what to expect, but he never could have predicted what he actually saw.
“Does this…does this mean what I think it means?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think it does.”
“Oh, my God.” The words swam in front of his eyes, and the relief crashing through him was louder than the relentless waves pounding against the beach.
Secretary of Defense Laird announces the draft is ended in favor of voluntary enlistment.
“What are you going to do now?” Sammy asked.
“I don’t know.” Ed looked up with a grin. “I guess I’m going to get my shit together so we can go down to San Diego. And after that? I guess we’ll just have to play it by ear.”
“Think you’ll go home?”
“No. This is my home now. Unless…do you want to go home?”
Sammy laughed. A full-throated, resonant sound. One of pure amusement. “No. I want to stay here with you.”
“Good. Good.” Ed folded the newspaper and set it aside. He reached for Sammy with his free hand, and the other man’s fingers were warm from cradling the coffee. They held each other loosely as the seagulls screeched at each other, and the sun sent a cascade of yellow light across the swelling waves.
THE END
ABOUT PEPPER ESPINOZA
Pepper Espinoza lives in southern California with her husband and her cats. She has spent the last year working as a full time author, and intends to start graduate school in the fall.
For more information, visit pepperverse.net.
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