Randy kind of lost his shit after Simon left.
That was a bit of an understatement. Randy royally lost his shit after Simon left.
It happened not long after the wrap party for the series. A month later and Gale was still falling asleep thinking of Randy's warm mouth tasting of champagne and Simon's cold glare as they'd stumbled out of the bathroom giggling, their hair slightly mussed and having drunk enough to not give a fuck. Randy would call occasionally and his voice would be brittle and his laughs would be short, and Gale would put up with it for three minutes max before telling Randy to drop the act and spill. There were fights - sharp, angry flare-ups that were brief just because Simon didn't argue well but did storming out like a pro, and
finally he stormed out for good.
Randy didn't cry when he told Gale, but his bitter tone and self-depracating attempt at humour were almost worse.
Then he didn't call for nearly a week. Gale had taken to pacing in his condo, wearing a tread in the cola brown carpet, circling the coffee table and the back of the sofa, re-dialing Randy's number every ten minutes. He was almost to the point of calling the cops, because sure there was no law that said Randy had to call him once every seven days, but it had certainly been the norm and Gale had thoroughly freaked himself out thinking of all the ridiculously idiotic things Randy could have done in a week.
It was exactly the seventh night of pacing and re-dialing when he heard the honking.
It was a deep honk, a loud honk, and had it not been for the staccato pattern that was so like an impatient Randy, Gale would have ignored it altogether. But it tooted rapidly and Gale veered from his
well-worn route to the front window, poking his fingers between two slats in his blinds and parting them, peering out into the inky black night.
There was an RV idling at the curb.
"What the fuck?" Gale pulled his hand back, letting the blinds come together again, and pinched his chin instead. He scratched his jaw, the hairs of his three-day beard prickling under his nails. He had no real reason to think that it was Randy out there. Randy in an RV on a street in Toronto ... the whole thing didn't add up. But Gale's stomach was doing the tightening thing that it did whenever Randy was around, and it didn't seem as if anyone else was answering the insistence of the horn. Then it honked again, a little longer this time, and Gale squeezed his eyes shut, wincing.
Before the horn could sound again he shoved his feet into the closest pair of shoes and pushed through screen door out onto the front steps just as Randy was coming around the front of the camper.
"Randy." Gale didn't move from the porch, feeling a sudden irrational fear. He didn't know what this Randy would do if approached. It was clearly not the same Randy he'd known and lov ... fucked. Gale waved a hand at the mostrosity parked in front of him. "What the fuck?"
Randy paused on his way up the sidewalk, turning to follow the movement of Gale's hand as if he had to look to remember what he'd just come out of. "Do you like it? I just bought it."
"You bought a camper?"
"A Winnebago, yeah." Randy stilled yards away from Gale, tipping his head back and grinning like his buying a gigantic recreational vehicle was the most normal thing ever. "I got this brilliant idea."
Oh Christ. "Oh, did you?" Gale didn't think he was going to like any brilliant idea that involved a Winnebago.
"So I was thinking, that you know, we don't have any work for the next couple of months, and it's not like either of us has a home ... " Randy cast a glance over Gale's shoulder at the door to the condo.
"Not really, at least."
Gale could agree with that. The condo had been leased so Gale could be closer to Kim. And Kim had been gone since she found out that she never really had Gale, mainly because ... well, because Gale had Randy. It wasn't as if the condo ever really felt like home. It was just a place where he kept his shit and slept.
Randy was stalling now, less sure of his "brilliant" plan, and Gale cleared his throat, waiting for him to continue. He still didn't think he was going to like where this was going, but he was curious at the
"I've got my cats in the Winnebago, Gale. And clothes and a fully stocked kitchen. We could take off, drive around, hit lame tourist spots and shithole towns where people don't know us and won't ask
questions. Just ignore all the shit and be," Randy covered his mouth like he was stopping himself from saying something he didn't want to,rubbing his lips with his open palm before letting his hand fall.
"Just be, I guess."
"You want me to pack up and get in that thing and just drive around with you?" He made it sound a lot more ludicrous than it was. It was tame compared to some of the things Gale had worked up in his head.
Randy laughed, and it shook a little and Gale knew then that he was going to go. What else was he going to do? And when had he ever been able to say no to Randy? "Yeah, pretty much."
Gale heaved a dramatic sigh and raked a hand through his hair, trying to appear as if he were struggling with his decision. He was going to go, but it shouldn't be that easy. "Randy." He left his hand on the
crown on his head and chuckled into the sleeve of his shirt. "You've totally lost your shit."
Randy laughed with him. "Yeah, probably."
They watched each other for a moment, smiling like idiots. Gale let his head lean against his still-raised arm and he narrowed his eyes. "Can I bring someone along?"
Randy's grin fell so fast Gale thought the corners of his mouth would drop right off his face. "Wha-"
Gale chuckled and turned to go back into his condo, beckoning Randy to follow. When they both stood inside, shoulder to bicep, Gale pointed to the corner where his television sat. Beside the television was a terra cotta planter, a two foot cactus rising up from it. "Ralph."
Randy looked from the cactus to Gale and back. "You have a cactus?"
Gale nodded. "I do." He bought it when he and Kim were over. He never thought he'd be able to keep it alive but apparently cacti didn't need much care and the thing had actually flourished.
"And you named it Ralph?"
Gale laughed. "I did." He didn't know why he did, but the name had popped into his head when he was carrying the thing in from his truck.
Randy wrinkled his nose when he looked up at Gale again. "I don't so much like that name."
Gale shrugged, smirking. "I don't so much care."
Randy's mouth quirked up in one corner and Gale leaned down and kissed him, pulling back just as swiftly as he'd moved in. "No Ralph, no me."
Randy's eyes were wide when he nodded. "There's room in the Winnebago for Ralph."
"Good then." Gale smiled and Randy smiled and Gale wrapped his fingers around the back of Randy's neck. "Help me pack?"