"The interview went well?"
"Yes, it did."
"You didn't think it would, did you? You thought Cole would queer it."
Tab and Ben Semple were sitting out on the deck of Tab's waterside cottage overlooking the north end of Plymouth Bay on the estate of the man Tab had found handyman work with and who wanted Tab near enough to visit when his family wouldn't miss him from the big house up on the bluff.
"The manager at the cranberry packaging business doesn't think much of the Shernhaven branch of the Union Bank of Norfolk, so nothing derogatory Cole might say about me would hold much weight with him. And they haven't had an accountant for a while. I think he's pretty desperate to find someone."
"So, you have a decision to make?" said Tab.
"I guess so. Cole has been a real bear recently. He was ragging on me so much, I cut him off of the fucking. I don't think he liked that at all. And I got a summons from Shern too, which I haven't responded to. I got Demonte off to a prep school in Richmond. If he makes the muster there in basketball, they'll find him a scholarship somewhere."
"Asserting your independence more?"
"I've been thinking about what you said about being trapped and enslaved by Shernhaven. Maybe I should try it somewhere else. And the economy's really getting to me. It's tough on a bank loan officer. I don't know how easy it would be for Cole to replace me, though."
"In either of your services for him. Which would be fun to watch in itself, wouldn't it?" Tab could hardly control his smile. This was what he had been after.
"I'd have to find someplace to stay—someplace temporary until I decided this was what I wanted."
"There's plenty of room here, in this cottage. In my bed."
"But the guy up by the big house when we were driving down here—the guy you said you work for and lets you use this cottage. Would he be cool with me being here? You say you're fucking him as part of the bargain. I wouldn't want him to think I was cutting him out. And I couldn't stay here and keep my hands off you."
"I don't think you'd have to. I told him about you—all about you, inches and all—and didn't you see how he was eyeing you when we passed him? As long as you were willing to fuck him too, I'm sure he'd be delighted with the arrangement."
"He didn't look so bad. But how did you find a job with him? What business is he in?"
"I hit the bonanza. I fucked him first. The job came later. Although I'd done some research and he was what I was looking for. They've got a bar like Hernando's down in Plymouth. Keith Dodson was going down there because he has family here and doesn't want them—or anyone else in Duxbury—to know what he likes. I found out that he owned a heating, air conditioning, and lighting business covering the whole region and that there was a lot that a handyman like me could do on that company's calls."
"So, that's a bonanza?"
That stopped Tab momentarily. He was afraid that maybe he'd said too much. But then he smiled and said, "This cottage is the bonanza. The job's good, but I couldn't get something this nice with what I'm paid. Having this cottage as part of the deal is the bonanza."
Dodson indeed was doubly happy at having the big, black beauty Ben Semple staying at the cottage too. So Ben moved in and started working as an accountant for the Duxbury Cranberry Company.
The first weekend Ben was at the cottage, Dodson came down from the big house and Tab and Ben worked him over together. They got him between them, and he found out what DP meant. They thought they'd overdone it from how he was screaming bloody murder—but after they were done he begged them for it again. He probably would have been happy to give them the deed to the cottage after that. He certainly didn't make any waves about having another tenant. And when it later came time for Tab to ask for the use of his motorboat, he didn't even ask Tab what he wanted it for.
On Friday nights Tab and Ben would go into the dock area of Plymouth to Woody's, the bar where Tab had met Dodson. Sometimes Dodson was there and sometimes he wasn't. More often he wasn't, though, because he now had two studs on his own estate to service him whenever he could get away from his family in the big house.
Tab started to encourage Ben to be more independent in his sexual encounters, and he forever was encouraging him to check out—and try out—the talent that came into the bar.
On Saturdays and Sundays when Tab didn't have to go out on a call, though, he liked to go down to the Duxbury fishing docks by himself and socialize with the fisherman, most of whom were out on the ocean every weekday from dawn to dusk.
He let it be known that he'd like to go out and see what fishing was like someday, and more than one of the men with trawlers said they'd be happy to take him out. With Tab's strikingly good looks and honestly work-built body, readiness to give a competent hand, and sandy-haired Irishman's quick smile and friendly quip, he was accepted by the men working the docks quickly and soon was accepted by them even though he didn't go to sea with them.
Among the fisherman Tab got to know and who he'd sit at the Duxbury wharf with at the end of their day on the ocean and his own breaks away from heating, air conditioning, and lighting breakdown calls was one that Tab slowly gravitated to and focused on. Like many of the fishermen, he had the look of northern Europe about him. He was maybe in his mid-to-late thirties with a hard-work-maintained body of a younger man—stocky but solid build, Teutonic-blond hair, a ruddy complexion on a well-chiseled face, and watery-blue eyes that sparkled and a smile that radiated when he was happy. Unlike most of the many men of Massachusetts who were of German descent Tab had met, this fisherman rarely smiled, though. He was often morose, he walked with a pronounced limp, and he was reclusive, living alone on his fishing boat and mixing with others only in the hour of sharing tales of the day and the catch at the wharf-side bar in Duxbury.
It took the longest time for Tab to cultivate his trust and interest. The interest came first, and seemed to be accentuated when Fischer's friends honed in on Tab and Wal shyly withdrew to the background. Tab knew that Wal Fischer was approachable and that he wanted—probably, considering how reclusive he was, really needed—what Tab could give him. Wal couldn't hide his hunger when their eyes met. But he was skittish and had that feel of an empty, defeated man about him.
One day when they were the last to leave the after-work gathering, Tab probed farther into Wal's life than he had when there were more fisherman present.
"You seem to be married forever to your boat, Wal. I never see you socializing around other than with this group here after you return and have consigned your catch. You are a fine figure of a man. I'm surprised you don't party more in the evenings."
"My boat has been good to me," Wal answered after carefully choosing his words. "She's all I need. Certainly all I deserve. And, as far as nightlife, there's really nothing I care for in Duxbury. Talking with the other fishermen after dusk—and you too—is good mixing and about my limit."
"Nothing in Duxbury to please you in the evenings? Have you gone further afield. Maybe your interests are particular. Have you ever been to a place called Woody's in Plymouth, for instance? Or Hernando's up in Shernhaven?"
Wal Fischer froze, as Tab knew he would. It was quite evident that Wal knew what kind of bars Woody's and Hernando's were. Tab felt he had to press the issue with Wal, though. Shock seemed the only way he could do it. He knew what Wal wanted. Tab had to drop the knowledge that Wal could have what he wanted—if he'd be brave enough to give up his self-denial and guilt.
Wal stood, ready to flee. His eyes were blazing and his fists were clinched. Tab didn't think they were clinched to fend him off physically, though, just as a defense mechanism against what Tab was bringing into the light—and perhaps against his own bubbling desires.
"You wouldn't have to go to Plymouth or Shernhaven, Wal," Tab said in a quiet voice. "I know what you want. I can tell from your reactions to me. I am drawn to you, Wal. I can give you what you want. I could be something you care for in Duxbury to please you in the evenings."
