Someone to Bank on Read online

  Someone to Bank on

  by Carson Wescot

  Copyright © 2013 by Carson Wescot

  Amazon Kindle Edition

  Originally released September 2013

  All rights reserved. Please ask the author for prior permission to use any material herein in any manner.

  All characters, incidents, and dialogue in this work are fictional and are drawn entirely from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real persons living or dead is completely coincidental.

  The author wishes to thank Richard B. and Mark C. for their reviews, encouragement, and suggestions, all of which I know with great confidence helped make this a better story.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 1

  “Give Max my love,” Bobby Rushton said, with a lump in his throat, to his parents and his younger brother Kenny as they were driving off from Nashville that May afternoon to return to their home in Evansville, Indiana. Bobby had just graduated from Browland College that day, and the Rushton family – except for his older brother Max – had driven down that morning to attend his commencement.

  The original plan had been for Bobby to ride back home with them, but he had just been offered and accepted a job as a trainee in a downtown Nashville bank and had just the day before moved into a small nearby apartment that he would be sharing with a local guy his age who had advertised for a roommate. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do until he could afford a better place. He did find Nashville to his liking, although he had missed his Evansville roots for the past four years.

  Bobby had had trouble paying attention to the rather dull commencement speaker earlier in the day. His thoughts kept wandering to Max, who at that moment was back in Evansville in his wheelchair, having been unable to make the six-hour round trip to Nashville with the rest of the family. God, I miss him! he thought as the speaker droned on, and as increasing amounts of sweat trickled down inside his cap and gown in the Tennessee heat and humidity.

  Bobby’s mind kept drifting back to that awful day almost 13 years earlier when Max suffered the injury that had put him in that wheelchair for the rest of his life. But for the grace of God, it might have been me, he thought with a shudder, although sometimes he almost wished it had.

  Bobby had been 9 years old, and Max 12, when the large rock that struck Max on the back had brought a sudden end to his idyllic childhood. If it hadn’t been for Max’s quick shove that took Bobby out of harm’s way, the day could have been even more tragic than it was. Bobby already worshiped his older brother, but from that moment on he had been enshrined in Bobby’s mind as his hero – the one who had taken the hit that might have crippled him instead, or even both of them.

  After the diplomas were all presented and the hundreds of tossed mortarboard caps had littered the well-manicured quadrangle lawn, Bobby went looking to find his family to receive his well-earned congratulations, and to pose for all the photos that his parents were sure to want to take before they went out for lunch to celebrate.

  Before he could locate them, he was suddenly grabbed from behind by his Browland roommate, Philip Spencer.

  “We made it, dude!” Bobby heard as he spun around to see who had grabbed him so tightly around the waist.

  “We sure did, roomie. Did your parents make it down?”

  “No, something came up – they called me last night,” Philip said, obviously upset about the situation, though not terribly surprised. It wasn’t the first time that his parents had let him down by their absence, but this time it hurt more than ever before. Finding Bobby in the crowd gave his spirits a boost, although he knew he probably wouldn’t be seeing him again any time soon. In a matter of hours he would be on a plane back to his home in Boston.

  “How’s your new apartment, tiger?”

  “Great!” Bobby lied. He would much rather have continued living with Philip, but that wasn’t possible. They had grown close over the past year – closer than any of their friends or family could have imagined, though they had never had a conversation putting their feelings about it out in the open. But it was time now for the handsome 22-year-olds to go their separate ways, and that conversation – important as it might have been – would probably not be happening.

  “Come meet my family, Philip,” Bobby said, picking up a discarded cap off the ground that looked like it might fit him. He knew it would look good in the photos. After looking around for a while, he finally found them in the dispersing crowd and waved.

  “Congratulations, bro,” Kenny said as they met up in the courtyard. “You almost look intelligent in that cap and gown.”

  “Thanks, wise-ass,” Bobby said, grinding his fist playfully into his brother’s midsection and then pulling him into a hug. Their mother, Barbara, was still dabbing her eyes – mightily proud of her middle son for being the first one in the family to get a college degree – and she gave him a long hug. His dad, Al, shook his hand and then hugged him as well.

  “Mom, Dad, Kenny, this is my dorm roommate Philip Spencer, from Boston.”

  Philip shook their hands, lingering a bit on Kenny’s as he made note of how much the young brother looked like Bobby. Kenny, only two years younger than Bobby, locked eyes with his brother’s handsome friend. It was as if they both knew without saying anything that they likely had something rather important in common.

  Barbara pulled her camera out of her purse and directed Bobby and Philip to stand together for a photo. They put their hands around each other’s shoulders and smiled, holding their diplomas high. Philip offered to take photos of Bobby with his family and then was invited out to lunch with them.

  “That’s very nice of you folks, but I’ll have to pass on that. I’ve got to finish getting packed up and out to the airport. Maybe I’ll see you all another time. It was very nice to meet you.”

  Before he left, Philip nodded his head to the side indicating to Bobby that he’d like to say good-bye to him privately.

  “I’ll catch up with you in minute,” he said to his family and walked a few steps away with Philip. Neither young man knew quite what to say, or had the emotional control just then to express it.

  “I’ll miss you, man,” Philip managed to get out. He pulled Bobby into a tight embrace – an uncharacteristic gesture from a guy who was usually very casual and unemotional in his dealings with other people, with an attitude bordering on playful arrogance.

  “It was great,” Bobby replied. “All of it. Stay in touch – okay?”

  Philip nodded.

  “Send me a copy of that photo, okay? Ciao!”

  They shared a knowing look that about broke Bobby’s heart, and he watched as Philip turned and walked away, silently kicking himself for not finding better words to part by. How could his parents not have been here? Shaking his head sadly he turned back to catch up with his own.

  After turning in his cap and gown and proudly carrying his
diploma in hand, Bobby walked to the parking lot with his family to go to lunch. He noticed a late-model Ford Escort with a big red bow on it that was parked next to the family’s vehicle.

  “Looks like someone’s getting a nice graduation present,” he said with some envy. He looked around to see if anyone he knew was in the vicinity so he could congratulate them.

  “You’re right – someone is,” his dad said, pulling two sets of keys out of his pocket – one for the family car and one for Bobby’s. “Congratulations, son!”

  Flabbergasted at the extremely generous gift, Bobby didn’t even notice his mother taking a photo of the moment.

  “You mean…?”

  “Yes, it’s all yours,” Al said. Barbara and Kenny beamed at how completely surprised their son and brother looked. The Rushtons were not wealthy people, so their unexpected generosity felt overwhelming to him.

  “Thanks!” Bobby said, giving them all another hug. “This is amazing. Now I can come and see you more often.”

  “That’s part of the plan,” Barbara said with a wink.

  “But how did you…”

  “Get it here?” Kenny completed his brother's question. “I drove it down this morning. I broke it in for you.”

  “Oh, great – now I’ll have to reset all the radio buttons.” Bobby knew his younger brother’s taste in music – if you could call it that. Kenny was into hip-hop and rock, and Bobby had developed a taste for contemporary country music after living in Nashville for the past four years.

  The brothers hopped into the front seat, and Al and Barbara slipped into the back for the short ride to lunch.

  Taking advantage of the unusual circumstance of having the house all to himself, Max Rushton tried to write a short story on his computer, but it just wasn’t working today. Although his body was in Evansville, his mind was three hours south in Nashville with his family.

  Hardly ever one to feel sorry for himself, he keenly felt left out of one of the most important days in the life of his close-knit family – his younger brother Bobby’s college graduation. He’d never been on that long of a car trip before – not since he was 12 and lost the use of his legs in that accident long ago. Easy accessibility to things that able-bodied people take for granted – restrooms, restaurants, and seating space during Bobby’s commencement ceremony, for instance – couldn’t be guaranteed. But he was all set to give it a try until a kidney infection he’d had all week had sapped his strength and forced him to forgo the trip.

  He gave up on his story and wheeled his 25-year-old body into the kitchen for something to eat and drink for lunch. Normally his mother’s domain, the Rushton’s small kitchen wasn’t set up well for accommodating wheelchairs, so he struggled a bit. But Barbara had left him a plate in the refrigerator, like she always did on those rare occasions when she wasn’t home at meal time.

  She had even thoughtfully poured her oldest son a glass of milk, but Max passed it by for a cold beer to wash down his sandwich – it was a guilty daytime pleasure he felt entitled to when everyone else in the family was out having fun without him. Having full use of his upper body, he of course would have no trouble getting the beer can open. He wanted to have his lunch on the front porch, so the real challenge was getting everything out there without it sliding off his lap.

  He put the cold can of beer between his jeans-clad legs – he had no feeling there anyway – and the sandwich plate on his lap and wheeled himself out into the unexpectedly warm May air. The wide and open porch was perhaps the nicest feature of the whole two-story house, and the family spent many satisfying hours on it in nice weather, surveying the goings-on of their friendly east side neighborhood and waving to whoever walked by. Everyone on Archer Avenue knew and loved the Rushtons.

  Being outdoors revived Max’s spirits somewhat, but he was still feeling lonely and wishing he could be in Nashville giving his newly graduated brother a congratulatory hug. They had always been close – especially since the accident 13 years earlier that took his mobility but spared his brother. He knew Bobby had always felt guilty about it, but it wasn’t his fault. Still, Bobby had always gone out of his way to be kind to Max and helped their father with his bathing and dressing every day until Bobby went away to college four years ago. Then his other brother Kenny took over with that kind of help.

  Max knew that he had the best family in the world and often told them so.

  Lost in his reverie, Max almost didn’t see their new mailman coming up the steps. If he were honest with himself, however, he would have to admit that Marty’s impending arrival was a prime incentive for planting himself on the porch that morning – and every weekday morning lately. Marty’s cheerfulness – not to mention his good looks – was always a day brightener.

  “Hey, Max, how’s it going?” Marty said, wondering why Max was sitting on the porch all alone.

  “Hi, Marty – didn’t hear you coming. Still getting over a kidney flare-up – how are you? Warm enough for you?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, handing Max their daily delivery. “But I’m missing last week’s cooler weather. Time now for shorts season, as you can see.”

  “Good for you. I’d do the same, but no one wants to see these legs,” Max said with a wry smile. Max wished he had the nicely formed legs – and the mobility to use them – that this handsome new mailman of theirs had. He’d only been on this route for a few weeks, and this was the first time that Max had seen him in shorts. He had to admit to himself that he liked what he saw. He appeared to be about Max’s age and had always been friendly to him. Max didn’t regard himself as gay – asexual was frankly more like it – but he had to admit that Marty’s five-day-a-week appearance at their front door was something he always looked forward to.

  “Where’s the rest of the family, Max?”

  “They drove down to Nashville this morning for my brother Bobby’s college graduation. It was too long of a trip for me, so I was just sitting here wishing I were there, too. I’d offer you a beer, but I guess you’re on duty.”

  “I’d love to take you up on that, but you’re right – one sip and I’d be out of a job.”

  “You want a rain check on that? You could come back after your shift is over.”

  “I’d love to, Max, but my wife will have dinner on the table by then.”

  “I didn’t know you had one of those, Marty,” he said, trying not to sound disappointed.

  “Yes, and we’re still newlyweds, so I always run right home after work,” he said with a wink and a blush.

  “Good for you, buddy. You have a nice day.”

  “You, too, Max. Enjoy your lunch. And tell that brother of yours congratulations for me.”

  “Will do.”

  Watching Marty walk back to the sidewalk, Max wasn’t sure whether he was more surprised by the knowledge that the handsome mailman had a wife – or the realization that he even cared.

  Two days later, back in Nashville, Bobby Rushton was struggling with trying to tie his necktie to go to work for the first time. He could’ve counted on two hands the number of days he’d worn one before today, and he tried tying it several times before getting it right. He had been somewhat surprised during his interview to observe that all the men at the bank were wearing one, so he felt compelled to comply with the unspoken dress code. This certainly would not be like going to class, but those days were over, for now at least. It was time for the “real world,” and he was nervous.

  Arriving at the large main branch bank precisely at 9 a.m., he was greeted first by Betty Jo Davis, the receptionist, who looked him over head to toe and seemed to approve of the way he presented himself. She had been out sick the day he interviewed. He’s cute, she thought. And I don’t see a wedding band.

  “You must be Bobby Rushton. Welcome! I’m Betty Jo. Mr. Mulanski is expecting you. You’re right on time.”

  “Thanks, Betty Jo. Nice to meet you.”

  She buzzed the branch manager, who quickly came out to greet his new employee. Bobby
had walked through the bank at the time of his interview, but he had met few of the other employees on that occasion. Mr. Mulanski took the opportunity to introduce him around to everyone.

  Bobby felt like a fish out of water for the rest of the day as he was beginning to learn what was expected of him. The only high point was meeting the man in the office directly across from his cubicle. His name was Grant Collins, and he was by far the handsomest man in the bank – perfectly dressed, big smile, friendly handshake, and perhaps 10 years older than Bobby. It was hard for him to concentrate on his work – the young trainee was mesmerized. Bobby’s pulse quickened whenever Grant strode in or out of his office, which was often.

  Even though Grant was an assistant manager, Bobby didn’t have a lot of opportunity to work with him over the next month. Their tasks didn’t seem to overlap very much. Grant greeted him every morning at 9 and said goodnight every afternoon at 5, but the rest of the day he seemed too busy to pay the kind of attention to Bobby that he grew to crave from his confident, handsome co-worker.

  Mostly he just had to content himself with the visual distraction that Grant provided while coming and going across from his cubicle and hoped that the older man might warm up to him after a while.

  The trouble was that “a while” wouldn’t last long enough for either of them. A month into their tenuous acquaintanceship, it suddenly came to an abrupt and apparently permanent end.

  CHAPTER 2

  Five weeks later

  I’ve sat in saunas cooler than this, Grant Collins mused to himself, with little sense of exaggeration, that early summer day when nothing seemed to be going right at all. Despite the wobbly ceiling fan over his head operating at full speed, the sultry heat in his Nashville apartment enveloped him like a wet blanket, causing rivulets of perspiration to soak his only garment – a pair of thin boxers – and even seep down into his leg cast. He had never been more miserable.