GENRE: Gay Erotic Romance
LENGTH: 16,670 words
After retiring from his career in construction and trying to cope with the death of his wife, Isaac York experiences an infatuation for a lifelong male friend and discovers his world fills with sunflowers and a risqué transition. Isaac moves to Lake Samoy in search of a new life, to abandon his past, and to start a fresh relationship with a famous and sexy man named Nebraska Close, whom he falls head over heals for.
Nebraska Close, a professional photographer who is drawn to summer nights and a younger man’s skin, finds pleasure for a second time in his life. Unconditionally he falls for Isaac and mixes together his lust, photography of sunflowers, and homosexual longing.
Isaac's son, Nicholas, lives at Lake Samoy and doesn't understand his father's lack of interest in his mother's fatal illness. With the help of Nebraska Close, Nicholas confronts his father’s sexuality, and Isaac learns to love his son again.
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.
He’s sneaking away from his son, enjoying his time away from the log cabin. Not wanting to deal with the boy’s grieving, his loss. Putting up a wall between himself and Nicholas. Running away from a problem at home. Hiding here at the cottage with me. Folding in on himself. Allowing the boy to handle his problem alone. An atrocity that needs assistance. A misunderstanding in his life. Something he may regret when he is older. I can step in and help him. I can prevent a separation between father and son, helping them. I can ...
* * * *
I’m enjoying Isaac too much, being unfaithful to my work/art. No longer relaxing under the lake, holding my breath, finding my Zen. No longer taking walks in the woods. No longer caring for the sunflowers. I’m trapped within the predator’s world, faithless to myself and singular ways. He’s become an obstruction at the cottage with me. Folding in on himself. Allowing the boy to handle his problem alone. An atrocity that needs assistance. A misunderstanding in his life. Something he may regret when he is older. I can step in and help him. I can prevent a separation between father and son, helping them. I can ... immovable, a nuisance for my craft to flourish. Yet, I like having him around as company, someone who listens to me, a companion along the lake, more than a confident. The City Man is required in my singlehood; I will never ask him to leave -- I promise myself this.
* * * *
It’s a crush, a strong sense of infatuation, an imaginary liaison with Isaac West. I dream of him, night after night. We go swimming together or take long walks in the woods. We sit in front of the hearth under the same blanket, with our knees touching. I have not loved like this since Rudger. So long ago. What feels like two decades of lost time. It’s so unfair to feel this way, though. An injustice in the City Man’s life because he has his son and separate world. I can’t help being deceptive and falling for him. I’ve told myself not to respond to my pleasure, leaving Isaac alone. How impossible this has become. How cruel. I’m deceiving no one but myself.
* * * *
H. Maximiliani: A photograph. The one where Isaac is walking through the sunflowers on the hottest day of the year, searching out the cottage’s front door and Nebraska Close. He’s shirtless in the photograph, carrying a bottle of red wine. The City Man wears a white bandana rolled around the top of his head, giving in to my seduction, surrendering as a friend. So quickly becoming my pleasure. He’s wearing Timberland boots in the photograph and reading glasses on tip of his nose. One of my favorite photographs. I splash on red paint over the print. In dribbles. In globs. In spirals. Adding passion to the picture, bliss and harmony. I let the piece of art dry on the patio for a few hours, eventually presenting it to Isaac as a gift. Something I call “Beyond sunflowers ... us.”