Chapter Text
In another world, another time, Frank is growing restless.
Baltimore, the city he’s lived in for nearly his entire life, no longer feels like home. He has just broken off a three month relationship-- his longest one in years-- and he is starting to think that maybe he ought to give up on this romance thing. Maybe it’s just not meant to be. He feels like he’s exhausted his options here.
But that’s alright, his friends tell him, Somebody’s out there for you. These things take time. Maybe put yourself out there more. Broaden your horizons.
Frank’s getting pretty sick of broadening his horizons and putting himself out there. When is romance going to fall into his lap for once?
I think I’m going to take a trip, he says, over a Friday night dinner which he knows will turn into drinks and maybe more, if he wants it too, with some of his friends. He could probably find a hookup if he wanted to, but he’s not the young man he once was. He’s not looking for that. He wants something more, A road trip.
Why? they ask him, What are you looking for?
Frank runs a finger along the rim of his wine glass and looks around the expensive looking but reasonably priced restaurant and sighs, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll know when I find it.
They merely offer smiles, mutter something about artists and well you know best. But Frank doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He just knows he’s looking for something and he’s pretty sure he could comb every nook and cranny of Baltimore and never find it.
And so he tells his friends he’s going to Boston--I’ve never been to Boston, I’ve heard it’s nice there, maybe I’ll paint the harbor-- and packs up his car that he knows is existing mostly on duct tape and prayers at this point. That car is not meant for the 400 miles between Baltimore and Boston. But it’s all he’s got right now.
He packs up a suitcase without putting too much thought into it, not really thinking too much about the things he might need or where he is going, asks his apartment neighbor to keep an eye on his place--I’ll be back in a few weeks. I’ll call you, thank you and he heads out of Baltimore with the radio counting down this station’s top hits of the 1980s. Not his favorite, but at least they’re catchy.
His friends were right to assume he was having some kind of nervous breakdown. He isn’t entirely sure that he’s not having one.But he’s been roaming around Baltimore for weeks, listless and bored. He hasn’t made any attempt to paint, to do much of anything. He probably shouldn’t have broken off his relationship, but he was just as miserable with another man in his bed as he is without, so it didn’t seem to really matter.
The drive is uneventful. The music on the radio is pretty good at least, and he’s by himself so he can stop whenever he wants-- at rest stops or motels or little kitschy roadside attractions-- but there’s still a gnawing restlessness in his gut that he can’t make go away. Maybe he really is having some kind of nervous breakdown. Maybe he should have stayed home.
His car finally gives out somewhere in Massachusetts. In reality, he’s surprised it made it that long. There were a lot of lights on the dashboard that probably meant he shouldn’t have tried to drive the thing hundreds of miles. When he figures it’s too risky to drive anymore without the car bursting into flames, he pulls into the nicest looking mechanics he can find.
It’s going to be a big job, the man says, looking between the car and Frank, perhaps trying to ascertain if Frank is indeed in the middle of some kind of break, You might want to consider a rental for a bit. Do you need to be anywhere fast?
Sure, I’ll get a rental. No, there’s no rush. I don’t know where I’m even going, Frank waves a hand, he can do that.
With the rental secured, and his car in safe hands, Frank thinks maybe this is good. He doesn’t believe in fate, but clearly he needed to get out of town for a while, and this is better than nothing. Lincoln, the first town he comes across, looks warm and inviting, and has a certain small town charm he could get used to. He briefly considers walking into the real estate office on the main street, but he doesn’t want to do that, in case everybody’s right, and he’s having a psychotic breakdown brought on by… what, exactly. Some kind of missing piece in life that he can’t quite figure out? Maybe he just needs a small town. There’s thousands and thousands of small towns across America. Maybe he ought to move to one of them.
So no real estate office. Not yet anyway. He’ll go to the grocery store, get some food, and find a place to stay. Maybe call someone back home with a No, no I think I’m fine. I just needed to get out of the city. I wanted to see the Old North Church. I read about it in a book last week. Just so they don't have the cops try to do a wellness check on him.
The grocery store is kind of quaint, but well stocked. The people are friendly, the women smile at him, and one even asks if he’s visiting someone from out of town. Polite conversation with the strange man who looks like he’s going insane.
Oh no no, Frank laughs, I’m on my way to Boston. My car broke down, I think I’ll be stuck here for a few days. What a lovely town you have.
The people really are friendly, properly concerned about his broken down car and where he’s come from and if he’s got a place to stay tonight. He smiles back, No no, I’m fine. Thank you. That’s very kind. I’ve got a room at that motel twenty minutes outside town. Thank you though, I’m excited to see your town, so different from the city, you’re all so friendly here.
And it is in this grocery store that he finds-- though he doesn’t realize it at the time. In fact it will take him a few months to start throwing words likefate and meant to be and maybe my car broke down because somebody up there, not naming names, knew that I’d never meet you otherwise around-- exactly the reason why he needed to get out of Baltimore for a while.
Do you know anything about wine pairings? I’m having a shitty week, the last thing I want is a shitty dinner tonight, he asks the man standing next to him in the wine aisle. Frank knows he’s sometimes a little too chatty, too social, and the man next to him seems surprised at being addressed. In fact, he looks around as if Frank might be talking to someone else.
And look, he hasn’t officially sworn off romance. Just romance in Baltimore-- sure that was it. Massachusetts was a whole new ball game.
Actually yes, the man replies.
Frank smiles, I sort of thought that you might.
And when he ends up at the man-- Bill’s-- house for dinner, quite in spite of himself, he does have to admit. The man does know his wine pairings.
What are you doing in Lincoln again? Bill asks, as they lay in his bed. It’s starting to be dark out. He thinks that maybe he might get a ticket on that rental car. He’s pretty sure his parking is expired. Frank sighs and presses his face into the soft skin of Bill’s shoulder, Besides seducing men in the wine aisle?
That was not my original intention, Frank laughs, You probably think I’m a whore, like I tried to seduce my way into a nice house but that's not the case. My car broke down. It’s old as hell. I was trying to get to Boston. I would have stayed at a motel.
What’s wrong with your car?
Frank shrugs, Probably was tired of me dragging it around the Goddamn East Coast. My friends think I’m having a nervous breakdown.
Are you?
Frank laughs again and doesn't answer.
In three days, his car is fixed. He kisses Bill all over and promises to stop by on his way back from Boston. Bill nods, smiles, and wishes him a good trip. Gives him his number on a post it note, and sends him with what he calls the kind of shit you ought to keep in your car in case it breaks down again, and it’s an emergency which Frank finds oddly charming.
Well I suppose you never know when the world might end, Frank says, loading the bag into his trunk.
Bill looks at him with an expression Frank can’t quite read. He cocks his head, and waits for Bill to explain.
People make fun of me, Bill admits, rubbing the back of his neck, But you didn’t. So thank you. You’ll be prepared now, in case this hunk of junk breaks down in the middle of the night or something. Just a few basics. Ready to eat meals. An emergency blanket, road flares, batteries. Just some stuff I had lying around. Your car is pretty bad, you ought to consider that you might break down in the middle of nowhere.
That’s very kind of you, I'll appreciate it when I'm stuck in a blizzard or something, I'm sure. Thank you, Frank squeezes his hand, just once, in case the neighbors happen to be looking over. He’s sure that there’s already going to be questions as to why their hermit of a neighbor let the poor fucker with the broken down car stay in his house for three days, but Bill had said his neighbors didn’t really bother to talk to him all that much.
Frank makes it an hour outside of Lincoln before he turns the car around and drives right back into town. His heart is racing as he does it, like he’s doing something scandalous and revolutionary. Maybe he is. His kind of love has always been revolutionary.
He parks behind Bill’s truck, and goes to knock on the door.
I thought about leaving,Frank admits when the door opens. Bill only smiles, But I kept thinking about you. Maybe I could stay a few more days.
Yes. Yes, I think you should. I’ll take a look at your car. Those dumb fucks overcharge you and fuck something else up so you have to go back and pay more. That’s how they get you.
Is that so? Frank asks, but he’s already stepping inside, already letting the door slam behind him, already kissing Bill. Bill is practically giggling as Frank fumbles with his belt loops, as Frank runs a hand through his hair.
Did you decide if you were having a nervous breakdown? Bill asks.
Frank only laughs, No. I think I’m finally feeling like me again.