Death Becomes Him - 2

If questioned, Trent might have admitted he was glad Rory wasn’t involved with someone. For a while, in high school, they’d had a thing going that they both thought might become more than that. But when they went off to different schools to pursue their degrees, they’d barely stayed in contact after the first year. By the time they’d graduated the only communication between them was during the holidays when they returned home to visit their families. Even then it was minimal, a night out at a bar that would end with them promising to keep in touch. They didn’t.

“I’m not looking either.” Trent took a drink of his beer, realized that he’d emptied the bottle, and flagged down the bartender. “You want a beer or something?”

“One of those would be good,” Rory told him.

Trent ordered two beers, paying for both of them over Rory’s objections that he could afford his own. “You can get the next round,” Trent said.  

After they each took a drink, Rory asked, “How are you liking it down here so far?”

Trent smiled. “It’s living up to my expectations. Hot, humid, fun when I get a chance to get away from the job. Well, except when I went to the Ninth Ward. Damn, the destruction from Katrina was”—he shook his head—“still is, appalling.”

“Yeah. If I’d stayed with the interior design firm I probably could have earned a small fortune just on the refurbishing done to the homes of people who actually had the money to fix up their houses or businesses after she hit.”  

Trent chuckled. “Instead you decided to play tour guide.”

“Don’t knock it. I might not be a millionaire but at least I like what I’m doing. Can you say the same?”

“Actually, yes. The hotel is small but it has potential and I’m going to do my best to turn it into a place tourists come back to year after year.”

“You’ll do it too, knowing you.” Rory leaned back against the bar, studying Trent. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been too long.”

 “Well if someone who shall remain nameless had a way for me to get hold of him it might not have been.”

“Mea culpa. I’m not very good at that. Ask my folks.”

Trent smiled wryly. “I did. They said the last they’d heard from you, you were heading south. That was what, a year ago?”

“More or less. Pop had such big plans for my getting my degree and joining his firm. When I didn’t…” He shrugged. “How’s your family doing?”

“Same old same old. The folks work their butts off keeping the business running, with Jerry’s help now.”

“You’re kidding. I thought he was going to go off on his own.”

They continued talking family and rehashing old memories. While they did, Trent felt old emotions coming to the fore. Which is probably why I don’t have someone in my life. No one could live up to my expectations of what a relationship should be like. Not after him. He was well aware that was stupid on his part. It had been a high school romance, fraught with tension as they’d tried to keep their feelings secret. That only heightened our affection for each other. Living dangerously. And yet…

“What?” Rory said, breaking into Trent’s thoughts. “You suddenly went silent. Tired and ready to call it a night? It’s okay if you are. I have a midnight tour. One of my people called in sick so I’m subbing in.”

“Ghosts or vampires?”

“Ghosts.”

“Do you believe in them? Or are they just stories, and ‘haunted’ houses, to entertain the tourists?”

“Oh they’re there. You can feel them.” Rory chuckled. “Can’t see them. They don’t show up like in the bad horror flicks but I know they’re there in a few places. The rest, yeah it’s just stories passed down through the generations. Same with the vampires, like Jacques St. Germaine. He’s probably the most famous one and there are people who swear he still lives in the house on Royal. Maybe he does, who knows? I’ve never seen him.” Rory grinned. “Then again, if I were a vampire I’d be damned careful that no one saw me. Stakes through the heart would be a bit painful.”

“No kidding.” Trent finished his beer and got up. “Have fun scaring the shit out of the tourists.”

“Will do.” Rory downed his beer as well. “Look, can we, I don’t know, do dinner some night or something?”

Trent nodded. “I’d like that. You have a cell?”

Rory snorted. “Doesn’t everyone?”

They exchanged numbers, programming them into their phones, and then took off, Rory for his tour, Trent back to the small house he rented not too far from the hotel.

Now to see if he really will call. Trent chuckled softly. Or if I will as far as that goes.