Highly Illogical Behavior(45)

“I missed the mountains,” he said, pointing over into the distance.

“I never liked ’em,” she said. “Don’t get it.”

“Really? I love them.”

“Yeah, well, I always wanted to live by the beach when I moved out here. I did, for a while, you know? Back when I was trying to be an actress some girlfriends and I got a place in Long Beach. It wasn’t as nice back then, but we could afford it and it was close enough to the city to carpool to casting calls and our real jobs—waitressing.”

“So why’d you move out here then?”

“Your grandpa. This was his hometown and he wasn’t going to live anywhere else. He made that very clear when we met, and despite my better judgment, I married him anyway.”

“You know you loved him,” he said. “Why’re you always talking trash about Grandpa?”

“Tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“Makes it easier. If I pretend all he did was drive me crazy, I don’t miss him so much. It works. Maybe it’s bad, but it works.”

“I wish I’d met him.”

“He would’ve loved you. You’re . . . like he was. He kept to himself, mostly, but when you caught him in the right mood, he’d talk for hours. He’d tell stories till he was blue in the face—did you hear the one about whatever. I see that in your dad sometimes, too.”

“Three generations of crazy.”

“A loony legacy” she said.

“A straight coat of arms.”

“You win.”

“Are you going to make me swim, too?” he asked. “I think my trunks are in the washer.”

“No,” she said. “Just promise me you won’t drown in this nice expensive pool while no one’s here all day, okay? Don’t give me that to live with for the next twenty years.”

“I bet you’ve got more than twenty.”

“Shhh,” she snapped. “I’m a dinosaur. Give me a hug so I can go earn your inheritance back.”

Once he was alone, he didn’t bother going to get his trunks. Instead he walked back to the pool, threw his pjs and T-shirt onto the ground, and jumped right in. He swam around for a while, sometimes breaking to float on his back and get warm from the sun before diving back down to the bottom and turning flips all the way back up. He hadn’t heard the doorbell inside, so he had the absolute shit scared out of him when he popped up from the water to take a big breath and Clark Robbins was standing at the edge of the pool with a huge smile on his face.

“Holy shit!” Solomon yelled, quickly covering his privates with both hands and going back underwater.

He thought maybe it was all a hallucination, some weird effect of all this swimming after so many years without it. But he opened his eyes and looked up to see the cloudy image of his friend looking down at him. Then, just as he was about to come up for air, Clark jumped in.

When his head was above water, he saw Clark’s clothes, all of his clothes, lying on the ground. He looked over where he’d jumped in and watched the shiny figure swim down toward the bottom. He was too embarrassed and paranoid to stick his head underwater and try for a better view, but he did consider it.

When Clark’s head popped up by the diving board, he looked right at Solomon and smiled.

“Don’t judge. It’s effing cold in here.”

“I’m not looking,” Solomon said quickly. “How’d you get in?”

“Door was unlocked,” he said, starting to swim closer.

“Weird.”

It was the first time Solomon had ever forgotten to lock the front door. Ever. And if very naked Clark hadn’t been swimming toward him, he would’ve had time to freak out about that, too.

“So this whole ploy . . . this swimming pool thing was just so you could skinny-dip, huh?”

“For sure,” Solomon said. “Caught me. I’ll go get my trunks in a second.”

“Nobody here but us.”

“Lisa?”

“Said she wasn’t feeling well. Told me to keep you company.”

Solomon, still naked, still covering his business with both hands, eyed his towel where it sat impossibly far away on a chair. Clark was just swimming around the pool behind him like everything was normal.

Solomon stayed in one spot for a while, unable to move, too embarrassed and confused and overwhelmed to do anything but try to seem like he wasn’t watching Clark. But how could he not be watching him? He was naked and swimming all around him. It was like every gay dude’s dream come true—a naked athlete floating around in the backyard. Or maybe it was just Solomon’s dream with this particular athlete. Either way, it was happening and his eyes didn’t know where to go.

“Hey,” Clark said, swimming up way too close to him. “You’re blushing.”

“Sunburn,” he said, trying his best not to look down.

“I’ll go get my shorts.”

Clark used both hands to pull himself out of the water and Solomon watched as he walked across the yard, his bare white butt right there for all the neighborhood to see. He took his swim trunks off the fence where he’d left them drying the night before.

And since Clark was looking the other way, Solomon quickly climbed out of the pool and wrapped a nearby towel around his waist.