Honeymoon for One: Gay Romance

It wasn’t even seven a.m., but Clay already had to swipe sweat from his brow as he loaded the luggage into the coach, the humidity thick in the air and on his skin, heavy clouds gathered overhead. One of the porters was good enough to help, and Clay shook his hand before heading into the restaurant. It wouldn’t be their longest day of driving on the tour, but it would be long enough, and he needed a coffee and a good helping of brekkie to get him started.

Like at all the hotels the tour used, the breakfast was a buffet. This one had some delicious mango yogurt Clay always looked forward to, as well as a good fry-up. Since a large number of Chinese tourists visited Cairns, there was also fried rice, congee, dumplings, and other foods Clay didn’t reckon many Aussies were used to eating for breakfast. It was good to cater to everyone, though, and he’d discovered the dumplings were nice with a bit of scrambled egg.

After loading his plate, he tucked one of the complimentary newspapers under his arm and went into the open-area dining room at the front of the hotel just off the buffet. Shiv waved to him from a table by the massive windows. Clay wove around the other tables, nodding to some of the tour guests he recognized. He sat and said good morning to Shiv, who looked a damn sight better than he did the day before.

“Not so crook today?” Clay asked.

“Heaps better.” Still, he only had a piece of toast and a boiled egg on his plate. “Thanks again for taking over.”

“No worries. The way you were feeling, being tossed around on that boat sure wouldn’t have helped.”

Shiv grimaced. “Lots of sick passengers?”

“Yep. I didn’t feel so great myself. Some of ours were a little off, but no one was too bad. Well, the Welsh lady didn’t have a good time of it, but she perked up later.”

Shiv poked at his phone and took a little bite of toast and Vegemite. After a minute of silence as they ate, he asked, “Wonder what happened with that Ethan’s fiancé? Probably quite a story.”

“It’s none of our business, is it?” Clay said—more sharply than he intended.

Frowning, Shiv glanced up. “Suppose not. Just curious is all.” He went back to his phone.

They ate in peace, Clay skipping to the sports pages. But he soon found himself glancing around, wondering where Ethan was. Maybe he’d slept in or didn’t like breakfast. Not that it mattered one way or the other, and Clay wasn’t sure why he was even pondering the bloke’s brekkie preferences.

He didn’t typically get so involved with the guests. Not that he was involved—he’d shown him where to buy a hat and chatted a bit. Tried to cheer him up a little since he was down in the dumps. Ethan had seemed so mortified when he’d first come on the bus and there’d been the misunderstanding. Clay had been afraid the lad would burst into tears, but he’d rallied.

And though it truly wasn’t any of their business, Clay had wondered more than once what the story was with Ethan and the absent Michael Wong. They had single guests from time to time, but it wasn’t the norm, and rarely one as young as Ethan who wasn’t traveling with a parent. They sometimes had mother/daughter duos onboard, but a younger guy in his twenties usually chose the backpacker tours. How did Ethan end up coming alone on what was meant to be his honeymoon? Took guts, that did.

Glancing around, there was still no sign of him, and Clay wasn’t sure why he was even thinking about it. He supposed there was something about Ethan that intrigued him. Perhaps it was the puzzle of his breakup, or that he seemed so very lonely. The vulnerability in Ethan made Clay want to take care of him, but of course he would worry for anyone who’d been through such a trauma.

He admired Ethan’s courage in coming on the trip. He’d looked sick with nerves going into the water alone and unable to hear, but once he was out there he’d gone farther than anyone else in the rough conditions. It had been lovely to see him smiling so much afterward, showing the dimples in his cheeks.

Shiv’s phone beeped, and his face lit up. “It’s Jane,” he said, although Clay hadn’t asked. “She’s going to be in Alice in a couple weeks. Wants me to fly up when we get back to Sydney and have a holiday weekend with her.”

“Great. And before you ask, her friend was lovely, but I ain’t going to Alice Springs to help you get another root.” It had been bad enough making small talk at lunch and trying to be friendly enough but not too friendly.

Shiv laughed. “No worries, mate. Your duty is done. Sharon was nice, though. Not a bad bod on her. If you change your mind…”

Clay pointedly turned the page on the newspaper and got stuck into an article about a teenage girl who’d been murdered down in Brisbane. Of course reading it was a mistake, and his stomach tightened as he thought about Sam. She’d known not to go off with strangers since she was a little girl, but often it seemed these killers weren’t strangers at all.

Pulling out his phone, he typed out a quick message to her.

Morning. Everything ok?

He waited, tense and gulping his coffee until he saw the little bubble of dots appear. A few moments later, her reply was there.

Of course. Why wouldn’t it be? On my way to class. xo

Clay was surprised she was up and out so early for uni, but then he remembered New South Wales was an hour ahead this time of year. Queensland refused to get on board with daylight savings, which of course led to confusion with two time zones in the east. It was a pain in the arse.

He typed:

Just checking in. Be careful, love.

Clay could imagine her eye roll as she sent back:

If this is about the dead girl in the news, stop worrying. I’m right as rain. Love you, Dad.

He had to chuckle. Sam had always been able to see through him, even in a damn text message. As he debated writing more, he caught sight of Ethan coming into the dining room with a coffee and full plate.

Clay smiled to himself as he watched him weaving between tables, his long legs clad in skinny jeans and his green T-shirt reading:

“Please insert witty slogan here.”

Clay chuckled again, and when Ethan caught sight of him, he gave Clay a little wave, his cheeks dimpling. If Clay and Shiv had been at a bigger table, perhaps Clay would have beckoned Ethan over, but generally they left the guests to mingle together or eat alone. Probably for the best. Clay had a job to do, after all.

When he and Shiv left to get ready for the day, Clay glanced at Ethan’s table. To his surprise, Ethan was looking right at him, and for a moment they just stared at each other, Clay’s step faltering as he followed Shiv. Clay nodded, and Ethan smiled nervously and dropped his head.

That morning was spent waiting after driving the group a bit north to Kuranda, where they took a ride on the cable car over the rain forest and saw Barron Falls. It was pouring rain, and visibility wasn’t the best, but the falls were a corker during the wet season.

As Ethan climbed on board last, Clay asked, “Enjoy yourself?”

Ethan grinned, the smile transforming his face. He looked so serious much of the time, with those big, solemn brown eyes. A young man with an old soul, Clay thought. But when he really smiled, it was like a light came on.

It made Clay smile as well as Ethan said, “It was awesome! Pretty foggy, so we couldn’t really see much going up, but the waterfall was incredible. Just…so much water!” His cheeks went a charming pink. “I mean, obviously, since it’s a waterfall and everything.”

“Ah, but this is the best time of year for it.”

Shiv was waiting, and Ethan hurried on after giving Clay another smile. Clay found himself whistling softly as he got them on the road down toward the Atherton Tablelands. They stopped at a smaller waterfall and the truly massive Cathedral Fig Tree, an ancient strangler tree stories high—and wide—that never failed to impress.

He strolled along the boardwalk path that looped around the tree, offering to take photos as Shiv gave them a little talk. Clay’s gaze found Ethan reading an information plaque, and he wandered over and asked, “Did you hear everything all right?”

“Pardon?”

Clay smiled and enunciated more slowly. “Wondered if you heard everything all right.”

Ethan laughed ruefully. “Not all of it, but this helps.” He motioned to the plaque. “It’s really cool.”

“It is. I think this is one of the nicest days on the tour. Mission Beach tonight is quite relaxing. The little resort’s not overly fancy, but it’s right by the water.” He hesitated, then said, “And if you’re an early bird, the sunrises tend to be real rippers. I usually go out around five this time of year.”

One of Clay’s favorite things about doing the East Coast tour was peaceful morning sunrises at sleepy Mission Beach, where he was often the only one about now that the kids were back in school and the resorts weren’t so crowded.

“I’m assuming ‘ripper’ is good.” Ethan grinned. “It sounds good.”

Shiv had wandered close, and he laughed, giving Clay a playful slap on the back. “I think Clayton should come with a translator sometimes. These outback blokes can be walking Aussie stereotypes. Has he called anyone a ‘drongo’ yet? Or said ‘fair dinkum’? Oh, and ‘strewth!’ is my favorite. He keeps it old-school.”

Ethan’s smile dimmed a bit as he said, “I can understand him just fine. And didn’t you say you were ‘chockers’ after breakfast?”

Shiv laughed. “Guilty as charged. We certainly do have our own unique spin on the English language. I’m just teasin’ him. He loves it.” He grinned at Clay. “Right?”

He didn’t really mind, but Clay still gave him an exaggerated glower and muttered, “Piss off.”

Ethan burst out laughing, and as Shiv moved on with a smile to go talk to an old couple from Alberta, Clay chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d be able to hear that.”

“I could read your lips on that one.”

They shared a grin before Ethan went back to reading. Clay lingered with Ethan as the others moved on. It had rained, and fat drops of water clung to leaves and branches, the air moist and rich with the smell of moss, wood, and earth. Aside from the chirping of birds, it was wonderfully quiet.

As Ethan finished reading about the root system of the strangler figs, Clay hesitated, wondering if it was rude to ask. “Do you ever use sign language?”

“Sign language?” At Clay’s nod, Ethan said, “No. I think if it had happened when I was a kid, I would have learned. But I was finishing college when my hearing started to go.”

“Why did it? If you don’t mind me asking.” He was being damn nosy, but curiosity tugged at him. He rarely spoke to guests this much, but he found himself wanting to know more about Ethan. Likely because he was so different from a typical senior guest on the tour.

Ethan shrugged. “I don’t mind. I can talk about it now.” He was silent for a moment, staring up at the massive fig’s gnarled branches. “For a while, I noticed everything was getting muffled. I thought maybe I had some ear infection, or maybe one of those gross balls of wax stuck in there. The kind you see on YouTube?”

“Like the pimple popping? I only watch the cricket and footie highlights, mate.”

Ethan chuckled. “Fair enough. Anyway, I got referred to an ENT, and I was just expecting her to give me some antibiotics or pull out the wax. I dunno, I figured it was just something routine. Instead she did a hearing test. I sat in a little booth that was completely soundproof. She was on the other side of the glass, and I was supposed to repeat the words and sounds she made through the intercom.”

“Right. Makes sense.”

Looking up again, Ethan’s shoulders hitched before he exhaled with a sigh. “So at first I could hear okay, even though it was faint. Then I couldn’t really hear anything. I was sitting there waiting for her to keep talking and making sounds, wondering why she wasn’t. I started to get claustrophobic, and when she finally opened the door to let me out, there was this look in her eyes I’ll never forget.” He shivered. “It was so horribly sympathetic, you know?” At Clay’s nod, he added, “I knew something bad was happening, but I didn’t want to believe it.”

They’d stopped on the boardwalk around the tree, a faint drizzle beginning, the others almost out of sight around a bend in the forest. Chest tight, Clay almost didn’t want to ask. “Then what happened?”

“She sent me to an audiologist, who did more tests and told me it was nonsyndromic hearing loss. Meaning there weren’t any other signs or symptoms. Like, I didn’t have a disease where deafness was just a symptom of it.”

Clay nodded. “Then what caused it?”

“A gene mutation. My mom was probably a carrier and didn’t know it. So I have bilateral sensorineural hearing loss. It’s still technically a moderate loss, but eventually it’ll likely be severe. Maybe even profound. I was almost twenty-two when it started, so I’m what they call a ‘late-deafened adult.’ I’ve never been part of the capital-D Deaf community.”

Clay frowned. “What’s the distinction?”

“That’s a whole cultural thing with ASL and stuff. Being Deaf is part of their identity and culture.”

“Ah, I see. Well, could you be part of that community? If you wanted?” The drizzle continued, a fine mist that felt lovely in the heat of the humid day. They had to catch up with the rest of the group, but at the moment Clay didn’t care about a thing except hearing more from Ethan.

“I don’t know. I think it’s really different if you’re born without hearing, or it happens when you’re young. A lot of people don’t see it as a disability. It’s just who they are. You know what I mean? They’re happy and comfortable being Deaf, and I totally respect that. It’s awesome. I envy them sometimes. But for me…”

“Damn hard to accept, I reckon.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Ethan’s full lips as he met Clay’s gaze. “Yeah. Damn hard. I feel like some people think I should be over it by now or something. And I have accepted it, but… It still sucks. Especially if I’m by myself, and I can’t understand something.” He shrugged tensely. “It can be unnerving. And the frustration doesn’t go away. At least not for me. Other people get frustrated with me too, and it’s stressful.”

“I can imagine.” It really was a frightening thought, to have a vital sense diminished as an adult. Clay would have liked a word with whoever thought Ethan should simply get over it.

Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets. “It can be so isolating. It’s like… I’m not deaf enough to use ASL, but I’m not a hearing person anymore either. Still, I live in the hearing world—the only world I’ve ever known. I’m not part of Deaf culture. I don’t know where I fit. Who I am.” He tipped his head back to look up at the fig towering over them.

As Ethan gazed up with those big eyes that seemed so sad, Clay ached to say the right thing to make it better. Damned if he knew what that was, though. He cleared his throat. “Don’t they have those implants now?”

Ethan dropped his head to meet Clay’s gaze. “Sorry, I missed that.”

“What about those high-tech implants that help you hear?”

“Oh, yeah. Cochlear implants. I’ve thought about it, of course. But they’re really expensive. My health benefits at work have shitty coverage for hearing. Barely covers the cost of one visit a year to the audiologist, and nothing for my hearing aids. And the thing is, with a CI, you can lose what natural hearing you still have. The sound through an implant is apparently flatter. More digital-like, instead of natural sounds being amplified with my hearing aids. But my doctor doesn’t think I’m a good candidate at this point anyway. I dunno. There are pros and cons.”

Clay nodded, again wishing he could think of the right thing to say. They stood there looking at each other, the drizzle forming little drops on the ends of Ethan’s thick hair.

Ethan was practically whispering when he said, “The thought of losing all my hearing—the world being truly silent—it’s just…” He shivered, speaking louder as he added, “Anyway. They’re making improvements all the time, so I’ll just see what happens.”

Clay could see the fear in Ethan’s eyes—in his tight smile and the way his fingers twitched into fists. He was struck by the urge to comfort, and he almost reached out before jamming his hands into his pockets. “It’s scary though, mate.”

“Oi! Get a move on back there,” Shiv called out good-naturedly, appearing in Clay’s peripheral vision from farther along the boardwalk, which looped back to where the coach was parked.

Clay waved. “Coming!”

Ethan smiled at Clay as he started walking. “Sorry. I’m slowing us down with my drama.” He barely glanced at the next information plaque.

Clay did reach out then, giving Ethan’s shoulder a quick squeeze. “No worries. We have plenty of time. They can’t go anywhere without me.”

Ethan’s dimples creased his face. “Thanks.”

So they ambled along, and Clay made sure Ethan got the chance to read every last plaque.