Chapter Text
Hawk took a deep breath and stretched as his eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the sunlight that was coming through the window across from the bed. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him it was 8:30. He then rolled onto his side and smiled, seeing Tim’s face so serene and peaceful in sleep.
He reached over and gently brushed a strand of hair off Tim’s forehead, letting his thumb linger on his temple and gently rubbing the spot a few times. It didn’t matter that Tim was 56 years old. When he was asleep, he still looked so young and innocent, just like he did in 1953 the first time Hawk watched him sleep.
Hawk quietly slipped out of bed and padded to the bathroom, then to the kitchen after that. While waiting for the coffee to brew he toasted two bagels and spread them with cream cheese, then sliced some strawberries. Putting everything on a tray he carried it back into the bedroom, set the tray down, and then lying next to Tim, began covering his forehead with kisses and gently rubbing his back to wake him up.
“Mmmm….what time is it?” Tim asked, opening his eyes. “And good morning,” he said, after Hawk leaned in giving Tim a quick kiss on the lips, even knowing Tim had morning breath.
“It’s almost 9:00,” Hawk responded. “I have bagels, strawberries, and coffee ready.”
“Sounds delicious,” Tim said as he pushed himself into a sitting position and leaned against the headboard. “I can’t believe you let me sleep so late though.”
“Hey, you know the rule,” Hawk said, taking a sip of the coffee before grabbing a slice of strawberry and feeding it to Tim. “No alarm clock on Sunday mornings.”
Hawk and Tim had moved from Washington D.C. to San Francisco a little over 10 years ago. It had been rough going at first. Hawk was used to living the life of a man who worked for the State Department with nice clothes, a nice apartment, and dinners paid for by an expense account when meeting with politicians and D.C. bigwigs. They had used all of Tim’s savings, and most of Hawk’s, for the move and getting settled into their new place. Now, Hawk worked for a non-profit assisting gay men who were going through divorces, job losses, and family estrangement due to finally coming out and admitting who they are.
Tim worked at the Castro Mission Health Center as a social worker and, while they both enjoyed the work they did, the salaries weren’t nearly what they would have been had they both still been in D.C. They rented a small one-bedroom apartment with a view of absolutely nothing and four flights of stairs to walk up and down every day. They were careful about where and when they went out to eat, bought clothes at thrift stores, used public transportation often rather than worry about gas prices for Hawk’s car, and had scrimped and saved as much as they could to buy a VCR as their Christmas present for each other in 1985, the last big splurge they had made.
This was never the life Hawk had imagined for himself. He had always pictured himself settling down with a woman, living in a nice house and driving a nice car, eventually becoming a father, working in D.C. until he finally got that overseas position in Europe. Of course, the reason he pictured that life was because he could never allow himself to envision this life, the one he had now with a man he loved and adored next to him in their bed, in their apartment, sharing their lives together. But somehow, it had happened.
“What do you want to do today?” Hawk asked, taking a bite of bagel and wishing they could afford name-brand cream cheese instead of this crumbly stuff.
“Mmmm….let’s go for a walk in the public gardens. There’s supposed to be a new art installation there of some sculptures. One of my clients was telling me about it.”
Hawk smiled. There was a time he would have laughed and just called Tim “sweet” for suggesting something as simple as a walk in the gardens. But he knew now that Tim’s desire for them to go out and do things together, no matter how simple, wasn’t about the actual activity. It was about the fact that they could go out in public here, hold hands, kiss, and while there was the occasional tourist who would give looks of disdain to two men being affectionate with each other, for the most part they were left alone.
“That sounds great Skippy,” Hawk said, downing the last of his coffee and popping one last slice of strawberry into his mouth. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he said, sliding off the bed and heading towards the bathroom.
“Don’t use all the hot water!” Tim yelled after him.
By the time Hawk had showered, dried his hair, shaved, and gotten dressed, Tim had cleaned up the kitchen, fetched the Sunday paper from in front of their door, watered his large collection of plants, and had tidied up the bedroom as well. Hawk flipped through the paper, noting which articles he wanted to come back to later when he had more time to read while Tim showered and got ready for the day.
“Really?” Hawk said, raising an eyebrow when Tim joined him in the living room.
“What? I think it’s fun,” Tim replied, looking down at the t-shirt he had on. It was bright blue with little peace signs on it. While both Hawk and Tim had changed styles through the years as clothing fads came and went, Hawk always tended to stay on the more conservative end of whatever was ‘in’ that year while Tim, always professional at work, liked to have a few pieces that stood out a little more for his days off. It also didn’t help that their options were limited to thrift store finds either.
“Come on Skippy,” Hawk said, pulling him close and kissing him. “You know I love you and everything about you. But your clothing choices are questionable at times.”
“You’re just jealous they didn’t have a second one so we could wear them out together,” Tim replied, poking Hawk in the ribs, eliciting a little yelp and jump.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Hawk said, locking the door behind them.
As they headed to the public gardens, hand-in-hand, they made small talk about their upcoming week. Hawk was scheduled to be in court twice. He wouldn’t be representing anyone of course, but he often went to divorce proceedings as a kind of steadying presence for the men he helped at the non-profit. He would take notes and later write a report of what was said, what was argued about, what was agreed upon, and recommendations going forward for how to help these men get back on their feet. The non-profit helped with the legal counsel and Hawk often referred them to other services such as counselors, doctors, landlords, and places of employment that were, if not welcoming with open arms, at least accepting of a gay man.
Tim was excited to meet with a client who had a first date scheduled for last night with another young man he had met at a bowling alley of all places. Tim knew that neither he nor Hawk could provide names or too many details about the people they worked with due to confidentiality contracts they had signed, but broad information such as having a client who was finally embracing who he was and trying to find love was safe to share.
As they neared the gardens they waved hello to Paul and Jeff, another couple who had moved to the area from Texas around the same time Hawk and Tim had.
“We should invite them over again sometime,” Tim said, as Paul and Jeff headed away from the gardens. “They were a lot of fun and great conversationalists.”
“They were,” Hawk said. “Maybe in a couple weeks we can plan a special Saturday night. Save up for some good food, get the deck of cards out, invite Marcus and Frankie over too, and have a little party.”
“That sounds great,” Tim replied. “Ooohhhh! That’s so beautiful!” Tim exclaimed, dropping Hawk’s hand and rushing up to the statue that was now at the garden entrance.
The sculpture, which was painted various bright colors, was of a bird that looked as if it would take flight and soar up to the heavens at any moment. Hawk noticed tears starting to form in Tim’s eyes.
“Skippy,” he said, sliding his arm around his waist. “It’s OK.” His sweet Skippy, always an easy crier over everything from real life events to commercials on TV.
“I know,” Tim said. Then in a voice so soft Hawk almost didn’t hear him he said, “This is just so much harder than I thought it would be.”
“What’s harder Sweetheart? Talk to me,” Hawk said, turning Tim towards him and wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.
“Oh, um, just, it’s dumb really,” Tim said, shaking himself out of his daze. “I know it seems like our life together is easy, but sometimes it feels really hard, knowing everything and everybody we had to leave behind. Knowing that we’re so limited as to where we can live and what we can do if we want to really be authentic about who we are. And who WE are,” Tim said, emphasizing the ‘we’ on the last sentence, meaning not just that they were two gay men, but two gay men who not only loved each other but made love with each other and lived together, sharing their lives.
Tim smiled at Hawk, wiping the last tear from his own cheek and kissing Hawk quickly.
“Come on. Let’s see the rest of the sculptures,” Tim said, grabbing Hawk’s hand and pulling him forward.
“It’s all birds,” Hawk thought to himself as they wandered through the gardens over the next two hours. Sculptures of birds made of metal, chiseled cement, wire, some painted bright colors, some just their natural color of whatever the material was. But beyond them all being birds, they were all in some sort of pose that made it obvious they were about to take off towards the heavens, never to return to this place on Earth again, but ready to soar forever in whatever was beyond the sky above.
“Where did THAT thought come from?” Hawk asked himself.
Two hours later, they were both tired of walking, had to pee, and definitely needed to drink something after being in the sun so long. They stopped at a little café they knew they could afford the lunch special at, ordering one sandwich to split and a cup of soup for each of them, with Hawk ordering the iced tea that was only twenty-five cents with free refills and Tim ordering, of course, a glass of milk.
They ate in companiable silence once their food arrived and Hawk became lost in a memory. The one and only time since moving to San Francisco that made Hawk wonder whether or not he and Tim were truly going to make it as a couple.
They had been living in San Francisco for about a year and, having saved some money for just such an idea, had decided to drive a couple hours outside of San Francisco and visit some other places. As soon as they got out of the San Francisco area, Hawk’s old defenses went up, dropping Tim’s hand in public and moving away from him so as not to walk so closely. Tim probably would have let all that slide if Hawk, in a moment of conversation with a shopkeeper at a bookstore hadn’t referred to Tim as “his nephew.”
Tim fumed the rest of the afternoon, barely speaking before Hawk decided enough was enough and it was time to go home.
“How could you?!” Tim yelled as soon as they were back in their apartment, door securely closed and locked behind them. “Your NEPHEW? I thought we left that kind of lie behind in D.C.?”
“Skippy,” Hawk said moving toward him. “You know how hard it is…” He was cut off by Tim.
“How hard it is? How HARD it is? Yes, I was in D.C. too, remember? But it’s not the same here! It’s almost 25 years later and things are changing. Maybe not as fast as we’d like, but they are. And it’s not that you didn’t want to hold my hand or walk too close to me or even admit that I’m your boyfriend. It’s that you couldn’t even say I was your FRIEND. You had to revert back to NEPHEW.”
Then Tim had turned and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. Hawk made up the couch later that evening with a couple sheets and a pillow they kept for the occasional guest and lay down. He hadn’t seen Tim this mad in YEARS.
He woke around 5:00 in the morning to Tim tugging him off the couch and leading him to their bed together. He had slept like crap and knew Tim had too, so even just the couple hours they both got that morning once they were in each other’s arms in bed felt good.
They had worked through things the next day and had made a vow they would never keep the other one from their bed again, no matter how angry they were. In the years since then there had only been three times when they hadn’t slept in the same bed at night. Two times Tim had gone to a social worker’s conference to get credits to maintain his license, and once when Hawk was in the hospital getting his appendix out.
Hawk shook himself out of the memory and gazed lovingly across the table at Tim. He didn’t know why but today just felt very special, a day he needed to sear into his memory for all the good and right reasons, as opposed to that other day which was there for all the bad and wrong reasons.
“What do you want to do this afternoon?” Hawk asked, as they exited the café.
“Let’s go home,” Tim said. “Just you and me and cuddling on the couch. You can read your newspaper, I can keep reading that book of short stories and poetry. We can rent a two dollar movie for the VCR on the way home and watch it later tonight. Eat a simple dinner. Make love. And then fall asleep in each other’s arms.”
Normally Hawk would have pushed back on spending two dollars on a video rental when they’d already spent money on lunch, but there was something about Tim’s expression that made him think that this time, this time he needed to not care about the money.
“Sure Skippy. We can do all those things.”
And that’s how their afternoon went. Hawk still liked to keep up with the national news, so he tried to read the paper each weekend. He sat on the couch with Tim’s feet on his lap as Tim read his short stories and poetry, occasionally toeing the paper to get Hawk’s attention and read him a bit from something in the book.
They reheated some leftover spaghetti for dinner, then cuddled on the couch watching Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, agreeing that Harrison Ford is a mighty handsome man.
When the movie was over, Tim took Hawk by the hand and led them to their bedroom without a word. Tim rarely took the lead in that area. Sure, he definitely let Hawk know when he was in the mood, but Hawk was the one who decided what happened and how. This time however, without a single word, Tim made love to Hawk in a soft, slow, and sensual way, making sure every inch of Hawk’s body was loved and cared for by him. It was quite possibly the gentlest sex Hawk had ever had and one night that he would remember forever.
When it was over and they were holding each other in bed, in that halfway state between asleep and awake, Tim said, “Today was such a great day.”
“It sure was Skippy,” Hawk said, pressing a kiss to Tim’s forehead.
“I wish every day could have been like today,” Tim responded, looking up into Hawk’s eyes.
“Not the exact same activities of course, but just….the feeling. This feeling of love and contentment. Knowing that everything I ever wanted in life, I had with you.”
“Well we’ll have to make sure to have more of these then,” Hawk said. “We’ll write it on the calendar in the kitchen. And you know whatever’s written on that calendar has to happen.”
“Sure Hawk,” Tim said, yawning. “I really hope you do get more perfect days.”
“Us Skippy,” Hawk said, “I hope we both get more of these perfect days.”
As he looked into Tim’s eyes he saw tears there and slowly one ran down Tim’s cheek.
“Hawk, what I said before, it’s still true. I have loved you my whole life. I’ve never loved anyone but you. You were my great consuming love and most people don’t get one of those. I did. I have no regrets.”
“Skippy, what are you talking about? You’ve never said that to me before.” Hawk gently wiped away the tears running down Tim’s face. “Are you feeling OK?”
“Hawk,” Tim said. “I feel better and freer than I ever have.”
Then, as the clock ticked over from 11:59 p.m. to midnight, and their perfect day turned into just another day to come, Hawk and Tim kissed goodnight, Tim smiled and lay his head down on Hawk’s chest and, with Hawk’s strong arms around him, he fell asleep.
The next thing Hawk knew, he was being startled awake by the ringing of the phone next to the bed. The phone? He and Skippy didn’t have a phone in their bedroom. Just the one in the living room. And where was Skippy? He had just had him in his arms. They had made love just a few hours ago.
Then, as he fully became aware of what was happening, it all came crashing down. Him getting drunk last night. Stumbling into bed in the expensive city apartment he was renting in D.C. since Lucy had decided to initiate a divorce. Then falling asleep and dreaming…..dreaming of Skippy.
The phone was still ringing so he finally picked it up, already knowing what he was going to hear.
“Hello?”
“Hawk,” Marcus’s voice came through the line. “He’s gone.”
“When?”
“Midnight last night, our time. It would have been three in the morning for you and I thought it would be better to wait until you’d had a full night’s sleep before I called.”
When Hawk didn’t reply Marcus continued. “As soon as I know anything about a funeral service I’ll let you know.”
“Of course. Thanks,” Hawk murmured.
“Well, I’m helping Maggie make calls this morning and begin to arrange things. I should let you get on with your day.”
“Wait!” Hawk practically yelled. “When Skippy…..when Tim passed, was he in pain?”
“I don’t think so,” Marcus replied. “He was on some pretty heavy painkillers at the end.” Marcus sighed and then said, in a low voice, “I don’t know if I saw what I actually saw or not Hawk. But I was awake and holding his hand when he passed and I swear, right before he took his last breath, he smiled.”
“Marcus, I…” Hawk began, then stopped. How would he ever be able to explain the dream he had last night. “Thanks for calling.”
“Of course,” Marcus replied. “You take care.”
Hawk hung up the phone and wept.