after syracuse | ric and manny
@lcvoyant
The sun is just beginning to rise when they hit the outskirts of Syracuse, a half hour after leaving a grateful family to get some sleep, and then clean up, in that order. It has occurred to Alaric that the smart money is on spending a few hours sleeping in the RV before heading back to Boston. There are two reasons not to, though; first and foremost, it’s less than a six-hour drive home, meaning they’ll be back by lunchtime. Second, and only by a whisker, is that it’s been an exhausting few days, but that is unlikely to stop them from offering to help clean up the broken furniture and shredded wallpaper, and quite possibly, Alaric offering to repair the destroyed wiring. He could almost hear it; he or Manny offering, the family putting up a half-hearted refusal, and then Manny and Alaric insisting.
They are good people, both of them. But there has to be a limit to what they’ll do to help. There are two teenage boys in that family, tall, strong boys who seem to be the type who are happy to roll their sleeves up and work. The family isn’t exactly poor, and there are probably plenty of licensed electricians who will do a better, cleaner job than Alaric could if getting the home functional again.
And after the month they’ve just had?
They deserve to ride off into the sunset on a high note.
Well. The sunrise. Whatever. Same overall feel, more desire for a bacon and egg sandwich and some coffee.
Alaric is… ebullient. Not a word he’s often used to describe himself, but it seems apt. Credence on the stereo, a wide grin on his face, and most importantly, Manny by his side (more tired than Alaric is, having done most of the work, but looking pretty pleased with himself nonetheless). Despite his tiredness, Manny looks healthy. The last couple of weeks the color has returned to his cheeks, he’s gained a little weight (not much — Alaric might order those bacon and egg sandwiches with extra bacon), and sleeping through the night might still be a dream for another day he’s certainly sleeping more than he was.
Alaric turns, grinning, and adjusts the volume on the radio. It’s probably a little too loud for dawn.
“Manfred Bernardo,” he says, and he can feel how warm and fond his eyes are. “You… you were fucking amazing.” He wants to say that Xylda would be proud — and she would be — but invoking her name can sometimes bring Manny down a little. Never know which way it might go, on any given day, so why take the risk on a day this sweet? “When I think about what that family’s been going through… and you were steady as a rock,” he adds, knowing his voice sounds more than a little awestruck.
He reaches out and gives Manny’s shoulder a squeeze. They’re long healed up from that terrible night, both of them. And after a month living together, and finding it easier every day to settle their bodies together then stay apart, the distance between the seats in the front of the RV feels unreasonably wide.
Alaric loves it. He’s been thriving on it; hadn’t realized how lonely he was until Manny had decided that it was more fun watching television stretched out together, touching from neck to knee (a ploy, Alaric thinks, to get Alaric to play with his hair and a ploy that works every single time without fail).
But this had been a test, of sorts. Manny needed to get back to what he does and Alaric needed to make sure that working together still worked; and it does. Even better than before. They communicate wordlessly and coordinate seamlessly.
“Fucking unreal. Oh, man, I can still taste plaster dust. Can you pass me that water bottle?”
