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relax?"
    (Incidentally, did other couples talk
like this? I sort of doubted that very many straight couples did,
but I figured other gay couples might. Then again, I'd never really
been part of any other gay couples, not long-term anyway, so I
didn't know.)
    "Thanks," he said, "but I'm too
tired."
    I nodded, then I headed into the
bathroom to do my own thing. After that, I turned out the light and
climbed into the bed next to Kevin.
    The mattress was so big that it took
me a moment to find him.
    "Hellooooo?" I said,
making an echo with my voice, pawing through the covers. "Is there
anyone in here?"
Finally, I found him, lean and tight in his soft cotton
undies.
    I cuddled up next to him. "It's going
to be okay," I said. "I mean it. This is going to be the best
wedding of all time."
    He didn't answer.
    I put my hand on his forehand. "Nod if
you hear me."
    He laughed and nodded.
    Then, of course, I slipped my hand
down into his boxer-briefs and found that he was
rock-hard.
    "I thought you said you were
exhausted," I said.
    "That was almost three minutes
ago."
    I laughed and started kissing
him.
    And just for the record? I still
wasn't feeling any weirdness about the wedding, getting cold feet
or anything.
    In fact, if anyone was being a little
neurotic, it was Kevin. How nice was that for a change?

 
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Sure enough, the sun shining in the
windows woke me up early the next morning.
    What's the deal with
curtain-less bedrooms anyway? Over the years, I'd ended up in more
of them than you'd think, or bedrooms with these worthless,
gossamer-y curtains that didn't stop any light at all. This always
seemed vaguely hostile to me, like the morning person who decorated
the bedroom was making a little moral judgment on the idea of
someone actually sleeping in. Or maybe they couldn't even conceive of the idea
that the whole world wasn't exactly like them, up at the crack of
dawn.
    But at least the
sun was shining,
which meant the weather forecast had been wrong about the weekend
rain, so far anyway.
    Beside me in bed, Kevin somehow
slumbered blissfully on. I didn't want to wake him, so I quietly
dressed and slipped out into the main house.
    I was the only person up, and
everything was so incredibly quiet. It wasn't like being back in
Los Angeles with the never-ending sounds of the city: the whoosh of
the freeways, the sound of the sirens.
    I made a pot of coffee in the kitchen,
then carried a cup out to the deck.
    It was still cold out, and everything
was wet with morning dew, but the view of the water was fantastic.
I loved the way it filled the channel, perfectly hugging the bays,
glistening like liquid eternity. The air smelled of pine with a
salty mist from the water below me.
    But as I sat there, I realized the
island wasn't as quiet as I'd first thought. The trees all around
the house creaked, squirrels skittered in the branches, and birds
twittered. Down on the beach, waves lolled against the rocks (and I
caught a whiff of the seaweed that had probably washed up on
them).
    I suddenly remembered what Christie
had told me the day before about the abandoned town of Amazing,
Washington.
    I hadn't finished my coffee yet, but I
went back into the house. I was still the only one up, so I found
my jacket and shoes, and headed off across the yard, through the
parking lot, to the start of that little road that led to
Amazing.
    The second I stepped onto the road,
something seemed different, but I couldn't quite figure out what it
was. The road wasn't well-used: it was just two dirt tire tracks
winding through the pine trees.
    I found myself growing weirdly
excited. What would I find at the end? Christie had said there were
ruins, but what did that mean exactly? The road was mostly covered
with a scattering of leaves and pine needles, everything wet from
the dampness of autumn, so the ground felt soft, and I couldn't
hear my own footsteps. The forest was oddly quiet too. I didn't
hear any birds or squirrels now,