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I
The Gardener
Ilya was lounging in an Adirondack chair, warm and sun-drunk, occasionally dozing off. Summers at their cottage consisted of long, lazy days, just the two of them, relaxed, alone, and disconnected from the structure, pace, and scrutiny they lived under during the season.
Shaking off the fog from his latest catnap, Ilya realized the chair beside him was empty.
“Shane, c’mere.”
Shane was on the other side of the grassy clearing between the house and the drop-off that led to the lake, kneeling in the middle of the bed of shrubs and bushes that bordered the property.
He looked up, wiping sweat from his forehead with his forearm. “What?” He squinted in the sun.
“Come sit with me.”
Shane shook his head. “I need to pull these weeds. They’re choking off the hostas.” He bent back toward the ground, his hands filthy with soil.
“Babe, we have a gardener who will do that.” Ilya felt like he was constantly reminding his husband how their considerable wealth alleviated many mundane responsibilities.
Shane ignored Ilya and continued working. He was shirtless in the unusually hot afternoon, wearing only shorts and a battered pair of sneakers.
Ilya started to needle his husband again then stopped to admire the view. Well-defined muscles in Shane’s sweaty back rippled with his arm movements. Every tug on stubborn weeds emphasized the bulging biceps and tendons in his forearms. When he leaned forward to reach toward the back of the bed, his shorts stretched tight across his toned butt.
“Mmmm,” Ilya murmured.
Shane turned. “Did you say something?”
“Nope. Just watching you work.”
“You could help me, you know.” Shane tugged a handful of weeds from the dirt and dropped it on the pile beside him.
“That would require me to get up from this chair when gardener will be here on Friday and can do it instead. Besides, I like view from here.”
Shane brushed sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of dirt on his face. “Huh?”
“The view. Is hot.”
Shane turned toward the lake. “Yeah, the view here is always pretty.”
Ilya smirked, enjoying Shane’s distraction. He resumed admiring his husband’s perfect body, mind drifting as his gaze followed Shane’s movements. If someone told him five years ago that he would be married to Shane Hollander, playing alongside each other on the same team and settled into domestic bliss, he would have suggested they seek psychiatric treatment. Ilya was happier than he had ever been. He could never have dreamed of this life, away from Russia, with financial success and security, living openly in a high-profile marriage, and wrapped in the overwhelming love and care of Shane. He now knew he had started to fall in love with Shane during that first conversation in a Saskatchewan parking lot, two teenagers on the cusp of a life in professional sports. He wasn’t certain when being in love had grown into this…this profound and all-consuming love.
Shane stood, stretched, and walked to their chairs, taking a long drink from his water bottle left on the corner of the deck. Ilya watched Shane swallow, his neck and Adam’s apple moving in a most beguiling way that reminded him of other, more interesting situations in which his husband swallowed.
“Whew,” Shane said, dropping into the empty chair. “It’s so hot today.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Ilya said, his eyes sweeping Shane’s sweaty body.
Shane studied the area he had been working. “It already looks so much better.” He glanced at Ilya. “Sure you don’t want to help me?”
“Nope.” He grinned at Shane’s dirt-streaked face. “You seem to be doing ok by yourself.”
Shane nodded. “I know you think the gardener could do this, but I like it. I like doing it. It feels – just, I don’t know, maybe therapeutic?”
Ilya’s brow creased. “What is—”
Shane immediately knew Ilya did not understand the word. “Oh, therapeutic. It means healing for the mind, like therapy.”
“It’s healing for my mind to watch you.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’ve watched me work out hundreds of times.”
“Yes, I enjoy that very much too. But this is different.”
“How?”
“You’re very, uh, domestic? Being happy digging in the dirt and not even knowing how sexy and hot you look? Big turn on for your husband.” Ilya grinned.
Shane’s dirt-streaked face blushed adorably. “Weirdo.” He stood, leaned over and lightly kissed Ilya’s mouth, then walked back to the shrub area. Just before he knelt on the ground, he slowly bent at the waist, his shorts stretching taut against his butt.
Ilya’s breath caught and he shifted in his chair.
Shane slowly stood back up, then looked over his shoulder and winked at his husband. “Like what you see?” he said coyly.
Ilya laughed. “Always.”
Shane bent to pull another weed, dirt streaked across his cheek and sweat running down his back.
Ilya settled deeper into his chair, stretching his legs out and locking his hands behind his head in complete contentment.
The gardener could come on Friday.
Ilya hoped Shane never stopped insisting on doing it himself.
II
Flat Tire
“…and so my mom will handle that interview, and I’ll talk to the Mental Health Society of Ontario about their fundraising gala –”
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“The tire warning light came on.”
Shane leaned over and looked at the dash.
“It’s flashing. That means it’s dire, Ilya. We need to pull over.”
Ilya looked over his right shoulder and began moving the car to the edge of the road. It was nearly midnight after an evening game that had gone into overtime. They were in Shane’s Land Rover but Ilya had volunteered to drive while Shane worked on foundation emails from the passenger seat.
Ilya stopped the car on the shoulder of the dark roadway and turned on the hazard lights. They both got out and studied the rear tire on the passenger side. Ilya aimed the light on his phone at the tire but it was not enough in the heavy darkness of the wooded area.
“I have a flashlight in the glove compartment,” Shane said, reaching back in the car.
“Of course you do.”
With better light they studied the tire, which was clearly losing air. Ilya sighed and began scrolling on his phone. Zipping his parka and putting on gloves, Shane opened the back gate of the SUV and set their hockey gear bags out on the ground.
“What are you doing?” Ilya asked.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m getting the spare tire and the jack out.”
“Shane, no. I’m going to call someone. One of those roadside assistance things. They will come change our tire.”
Shane set the spare tire out on the ground and reached back in for the jack. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can change it and then be on our way.”
“We have money, Shane. We pay someone to do these things while we wait inside the car where it’s warm and safe from wild animals who will kill us.”
“Why would we do that? It could take hours for someone to come. I’ll have it done pretty quickly and we can head home.”
Ilya looked behind him at the black woods. “It’s fucking dark out here and do you even know how to change tire?”
Shane laughed as he rolled the tire to the side of the car. “Of course I do. Don’t you?”
“Uh, no.”
“My dad taught me when I was about 10 or 11. He made sure I knew how to do it by myself before I started driving.” Shane knelt on the ground and positioned the large flashlight to be aimed at the wheel. When he heard nothing from Ilya, he glanced over his shoulder at him.
“Are you ok? If you’re cold get back in the car while I do this.”
“My father did not teach me these things.”
Shane laid the jack down and stood to look at his husband. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to sound like my father is better.”
Ilya nodded. “I know. Is ok.” He reached up and brushed the back of his hand against Shane’s cheek.
“Oooh, your hands are cold. If you’re going to wait out here, put your gloves on.”
“Yes, dear,” Ilya mocked, pulling his gloves from his pockets.
Shane knelt and resumed placing the jack.
Ilya bounced on his feet in the bitter cold night air, trying not to think about the wild animals who might burst from the woods and eat them. He watched Shane work, knelt on the frozen ground, methodically removing the bolts from the wheel cover.
It was still ludicrous to Ilya that this famous multi-millionaire athlete was changing his own tire by the side of a deserted road in the middle of the night. But Ilya had learned that Shane did not let his wealth or convenience keep him from the most ordinary chores. He folded his own laundry, bought his own groceries, shoveled snow from the front walk, and, apparently, changed his own flat tire.
Ilya’s mind wandered to an image of a younger David Hollander, teaching his son how to take care of a car. Ilya’s childhood had been far different. He shook his head, trying to dislodge memories of harsh words and painful slaps.
Now he belonged to the Hollander family and had somehow become a second son. During the year Ilya played for Ottawa while Shane was still in Montreal, David had taken Ilya fishing, patiently teaching him how to bait a hook and cast a line. They had gone to a car show and argued good-naturedly over baseball.
Ilya’s mind wandered farther, imagining children he and Shane might have. Shane, kneeling in a driveway, calmly teaching a little Hollander-Rozanov how to change a tire. The thought landed somewhere beneath Ilya’s heart and stayed there.
The clatter of the jack hitting the pavement and a soft “fuck” from Shane brought Ilya back to the present.
“Ok?” Ilya asked.
“Yeah, my fingers are cold so I’m clumsy.”
“We can still call the road assistance people.”
“I’m halfway done, Ilya.”
Despite the cold, Ilya’s dick began to tingle. Shane had so easily and confidently taken charge of the flat tire that llya’s brain had decided he was married to some kind of sexy superhero.
Shane stood up, brushing his hands together, and glanced at Ilya as he put the jack back in the car. “What is that look for?”
“Hmmm?” Ilya asked distractedly.
“You’re staring at me like you want to eat me.”
“I always want to eat you.”
Shane rolled his eyes and started rolling the damaged tire toward the back of the car. “How about you help me get this in the car instead of standing there having dirty fantasies.”
“Not dirty fantasies. Just sexy.”
Ilya joined him at the back of the car where Shane was, of course, covering the interior with a tarp that had appeared from some mysterious compartment Ilya had never noticed. They quickly loaded the damaged tire and their gear bags then got buckled back in the front seats. Ilya started the engine and turned the heat to the highest position.
As they pulled back onto the highway, Shane looked at his husband.
“You were pretty quiet while I was changing the tire. You normally chirp at me when I’m trying to fix something.”
“Maybe I’m off my game. Tired.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Shane responded. He was silent for a few minutes, then asked, “Did I upset you when I mentioned my dad teaching me about cars?”
Ilya looked over and put a hand on Shane’s thigh, squeezing gently. “No. I sometimes feel sad that my childhood was not as pretty as yours but I am happy now that I married someone who grew up safe and loved.”
Shane put his hand over Ilya’s and entwined their fingers. “You are safe and loved,” he said softly.
Ilya glanced at him again with a tender smile, his thumb gently rubbing Shane’s knuckles.
After a few minutes of silence, Ilya spoke again. “I did think about how hot it is that you took charge and manhandled that tire off the car and put a new one on. Like a very sexy superhero.”
Shane chuckled in the darkness. “You’re silly.”
Ilya loosened their joined hands and rubbed the inside of Shane’s thigh. “You changed from polite hockey player to Superman in a flash, saving us from harm. Is hot.” Ilya’s hand moved higher up Shane’s leg.
Shane shifted in his seat. “There was no harm.”
“Oh, yes. Wild animals in the woods. Two people broken down on the side of road in middle of night. It’s the beginning of horror movie. My very hot and sexy superhero husband saved us.” Ilya’s fingers lightly brushed over Shane’s groin.
Shane squirmed. “Ilya.”
“Shane.”
“Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“When have you known me not to finish?”
“We’re not doing this while you’re driving on a dark road at highway speed.”
“That hasn’t stopped us before.”
“I know and it was stupid and reckless.” Shane firmly picked up Ilya’s hand and moved it back to Ilya’s side of the car.
“Ok, I will let my Superman be in charge until we are home but then I intend to ravish him.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
“Yes. Is least I can do to thank him for saving our lives.”
“This flat tire has suddenly become a very dramatic event.”
“It was a dangerous rescue by Superhero Shane and I intend to thank him for it. Many times, if necessary.”
Shane laughed and leaned over to kiss Ilya’s cheek. “Take me home and have your way with me.”
III
Tiny Pillows
“Shane.”
“Shane.”
“SHANE.”
Shane looked through the foggy glass door of the shower to see Ilya standing in the middle of their large bathroom holding something in his oustretched hand.
“What?”
“What is this?” Ilya lifted his hand higher.
“I can’t see what you’re holding.” Shane swiped a clear streak on the glass and peered at his husband.
Ilya shook his hand impatiently and moved closer. “What. Is. This.”
“Babe, I can’t see it.”
“It is tiny pillow in my dresser drawer.”
“Oh, it’s a sachet.”
“What is sachet?” Ilya held it up to this nose and sniffed. “It smells.”
“Can you just hang on for a couple of minutes, please? I’m almost finished.”
Ilya sighed and left the bathroom. Five minutes later, Shane, wearing a towel around his waist and water trickling down his chest, found his husband in their closet.
“Now, what is the problem?”
“I open drawer where my practice gear is and find a tiny blue pillow that smells.”
Shane tried not to smile. “It’s called a sachet and it is filled with lavender. The scent makes your clothes smell good.”
“That’s what laundry is for.”
“Yes, and also this. It keeps them smelling nice after they are in the drawer.”
“Shane, it has tiny ribbons on it like for a little girl’s dollhouse.” Ilya dangled the sachet from his index finger. “Is this lace?”
“That’s just how they look. No one will see it but us so your masculinity remains intact.” Shane dropped the towel and pulled on clean briefs.
“So I will go to practice smelling like lavender?”
Shane laughed. “No, it’s not that strong. It’s just a gentle scent to keep clothes that are in drawers smelling good. Trust me, no one will think you smell like lavender.” Shane pulled on sweatpants and left the closet.
“Crazy tiny pillow,” Ilya grumbled to himself.
Over the next few weeks, Ilya found sachets in every drawer and shelf that held clothing. They were a variety of colors, peach, pink, mint green, yellow. He felt inexplicably annoyed. He wanted to shove every one of them into the garbage but two years of marriage to Shane had taught him the value of choosing his battles.
The first time he pulled a clean shirt from his practice gear bag in the locker room and got a whiff of lavender, he glanced around. No one was paying any attention. Ilya quickly held the shirt to his face and took a deep sniff. It was actually not unpleasant. There was something appealing about opening his gear bag in a room that reeked of sweat, body odor, and other indescribable smells and finding carefully folded clothes that smelled like flowers.
His peripheral vision, one of his senses that was always tuned to Shane’s presence, caught Shane returning from the shower. Ilya quickly pulled the shirt on and closed his bag.
Shane looked at him strangely as he dried off. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Ilya arranged his face into perfect innocence. “Why?”
“Your face was weird.”
“Weird how?”
“Kind of dopey.”
“My face is not dopey. Russians do not do this.”
Shane shrugged and turned to his stall to dress. “Whatever.”
A few days later Ilya stopped at the grocery store on his way home from practice. The store entryway was filled with loads of dried flowers and greenery for the fall season. Walking by the display immediately triggered Ilya’s allergies and he sneezed three times in rapid succession.
“Fuck,” he muttered, feeling snot run down his face. Without any tissues, he raised his arm and wiped his long sleeve across his face. His nose instantly filled with the scent of something sweet and his whole body warmed as he pictured Shane and those tiny pillows.
On a lazy Saturday morning a few weeks later, Ilya awoke to find Shane folding a basket of laundry on the corner of the bed. Anya sat nearby, tail wagging.
“You’re being such a good girl and letting Daddy sleep,” Shane whispered affectionately to the dog, folding a tshirt and placing it on a pile beside him.
Ilya lay still, watching his beloved husband and their dog child. Shane carefully folded tshirts, shorts, sweats, and underwear. Ilya was mesmerized watching Shane’s large sturdy hands gently folding each piece of clothing into perfectly aligned squares or rectangles. Each folded piece was placed on the appropriate stack and given a single gentle pat.
Unaware he was being watched, Shane stood and began putting each folded pile in the dresser and armoire. When he opened the drawers that held Ilya’s underwear and tshirts, he carefully tucked each pile of freshly washed clothing in, smoothing any wrinkles. Ilya noticed for the first time that a small wood box was on the dresser top. Shane opened it and pulled out several of the tiny pillows. He held a handful up to his nose and inhaled, his eyes closing briefly. He then gently placed one or two in each drawer, tucking them down between the layers of clothes.
This went on for several minutes before Shane turned to glance at Ilya and discovered his eyes were open.
“Are you watching me?”
“I watch you a lot.”
“Folding laundry gets you hot?”
“No.”
Shane relaxed and picked up a stack of shorts.
“Watching you fold laundry gets me hot.”
Shane rolled his eyes and picked up a stack of sweatpants to head into the closet. When he re-emerged, Ilya was propped up against his pillow, hands folded behind his head.
Shane stopped and looked at his husband’s smug face. “You’re hard right now, aren’t you?”
Ilya nodded slowly, his eyes darkening seductively.
“Seriously? From laundry?”
“It’s your hands. And those tiny pillows.”
“What about my hands? And the sachets?”
“I always think your hands are sexy. They are strong and muscular, they hold a hockey stick like no one on earth. They shoot pucks with laser precision. They lift hundreds of pounds of weights. They also gently fold clothes into little squares and piles. And then they tuck tiny scented pillows into the drawers to make my clothes smell good all the time.”
Shane moved the empty laundry basket to the floor and put one knee on the bed.
“Oh, yeah? You like the sachets now?”
Ilya nodded slowly. “I noticed the smell when I open the drawers. It makes me think of you and those huge hands that beat the shit out of mouthy Montreal players and later put tiny scented pillows into my clothes.”
Shane smiled and crawled closer to Ilya on the bed. “Do you know why I put the tiny pillows in your drawers?”
“Tell me.”
“Because I love taking care of you.”
Ilya bent forward and kissed his husband. They pressed their foreheads together, grinning at one other.
“You’re still hard, aren’t you?” Shane murmured.
Ilya nodded. “When you do things with tiny pillows I know it is because you love me. But is also quite hot.”
“So we’ve established that when I work in the flower bed or change a tire, you get turned on. Now we’re adding folding laundry to that list?”
Ilya nodded again. “When are you going to understand that every fucking thing you do turns me on? Watching you read the nutrition label on the back of cereal box yesterday almost made me come in my pants.”
Shane rolled his eyes and playfully swatted Ilya’s arm. “You’re insane.” He flopped on the bed and curled into Ilya’s side. A couple of gentle kisses were just staring to lead to something more when Anya finally made her presence known, whining and nosing her way in between them on the bed, reminding her humans that it was time to take her outside.
As Ilya pulled on sweats, he looked at Shane. “Hey, maybe Anya needs a tiny pillow tied to her collar.”
“No.” Shane started down the hall, Anya trotting happily after him.
Ilya followed, still pulling on his shirt. “Come on, Shane. Then Anya will smell nice too.”
“Absolutely not. We pay hundreds of dollars to that fancy groomer you found to make her smell clean and appropriate for a dog.”
In the mud room, Shane knelt to fasten Anya’s leash. “You already smell perfect, sweet girl,” he whispered. “Don’t worry, though. I will get you your own tiny pillow just like Daddy.”
IV
Snow Shovel
“Hgrhghgr.” Ilya mumbled into his pillow as the bathroom light came on, illuminating their dark bedroom. “Why is light on?”
“I’m taking Anya out,” Shane said efficiently.
Ilya rolled over, squinting at his husband moving around the room pulling on sweats and socks.
“What time is it?” he mumbled.
“Six-fifteen.”
Ilya groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.
Some time later, Ilya woke to a silent bedroom. Bundled in the fuzzy robe Shane had given him last Christmas, Ilya shuffled down the hall toward the kitchen. Anya was lying in her bed near the fireplace and leapt up eagerly when Ilya entered. The house was quiet with no sign of Shane.
“Where is he, pretty girl?” Ilya said, ruffling Anya’s fur as she nuzzled his legs.
A scraping sound from outside drew Ilya to the front door. He opened the heavy wood door and discovered a freshly fallen snow and his husband shoveling the sidewalk.
“What are you doing?” Ilya asked.
Shane looked up then resumed his work. “What does it look like?”
“It looks like you’re doing what we pay snow removal company a stupid amount of money to do.”
“They won’t be here for hours.”
“Are you expecting a big crowd on our sidewalk this morning?”
Shane glanced up again, not amused. Despite his enviable physical condition, he was breathing hard from the exertion.
“The mailman should not have to wade through drifts. His job is hard enough in the winter.”
Ilya shivered and pulled his robe tightly across his chest. “It’s freezing, Shane.”
“Not once you get moving. You could put something on and help me.”
“Nope. This is all you. I will wait for snow company.” Ilya closed the door.
“Your daddy is nuts,” he said to Anya.
As usual, Shane had made coffee before Ilya was out of bed. Shane didn’t drink coffee, yet he brewed it every morning for Ilya. Full mug in hand, Ilya wandered back to the front window. Shane was almost unrecognizable in a heavy parka and a ratty knit cap pulled down over his ears. He also had on the ugliest pair of rubber boots Ilya had ever seen, something he reminded Shane every time they made an appearance. Shane stubbornly wore them for every heavy rain or snowstorm, insisting they were “practical and reliable.”
Ilya watched Shane work without a lick of guilt at staying in the warm house with his coffee. How does he look so good in that old hat and those hideous boots?
Ilya eventually returned to the kitchen to make toast and scramble an egg. The next time he walked through the house, he glanced outside and saw no sign of Shane. Opening the door, he stepped out in his sock feet and peeked around the end of the porch. Shane was at the end of the front sidewalk of their neighbor, a retired couple. Ilya looked around, realizing Shane was clearing the snow from the sidewalks of the houses all around theirs. Because of course he is, Ilya thought.
Shane worked for almost two hours before coming inside. He shed his coat and boots in the foyer, panting and sweaty from the exertion. Ilya casually leaned against the doorway to the living room, watching.
“Why are you staring at me?” Shane huffed.
“I stare at you all the time.”
“I know and it’s weird.”
“I like when you’re sweaty and out of breath.”
Shane pulled off his boot and stood up, arching his lower back to stretch his aching muscles. He turned to look out the window at the pristine sidewalk. “Looks good,” he said. “But I’m wiped out.”
“Snow removal people will probably be here any minute.”
“Or seven hours from now. It needed to be done so I did it. Why is this so hard for you to understand?” Shane moved past him to the kitchen.
Ilya followed him. “Why did you shovel everyone else’s sidewalks?”
“Why not? I’m in peak physical condition and our neighbors are not. Dr. Lewis is elderly. He should not be out shoveling snow.”
“Again, Shane, that is what snow removal company does.”
“Well, I can also do it and much sooner.” Shane opened the refrigerator and grabbed a container of yogurt.
Ilya handed him a spoon and studied his husband while he hungrily wolfed down the yogurt.
“You know I like watching you do house stuff.”
“I do and I’ll never understand it.”
Ilya moved closer and put his arms around Shane’s waist. “My husband is a hero,” Ilya said softly, brushing Shane’s damp bangs from his forehead. “You can’t ignore anyone who might need help.” He lightly kissed the tip of Shane’s nose. “Ooh, your nose is cold.”
“My face feels like frozen sandpaper.”
Ilya rubbed Shane’s arms vigorously. “How about I run you a warm bath with the lavender bath salts?”
Shane smiled tiredly. “I would like that.”
Ilya kissed his lips gently then took Shane’s hand and led him toward the bedroom. “You took care of mailman and neighbors. I will take care of you.”
“You’re being very sweet,” Shane remarked as he followed Ilya down the hall.
“I can be sweet. Also I will enjoy watching you in the bathtub. Win-win for everyone.”
Shane sighed.
V
The Ladder
CHIRP
“Fuck.” Shane lay still, waiting.
CHIRP
Cursing, he flipped the covers back and stood up.
“What’s happening?” Ilya mumbled into his pillow.
“One of the smoke detectors is beeping.”
“Make it stop.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
Shane stumbled down the dark hall, still half asleep.
CHIRP
Fuck. Of course it’s the kitchen. The hardest one to reach.
Shane went to the garage and carried the extension ladder into the kitchen. As he was setting it up, Ilya appeared, yawning, hair wild and messy and his robe half on, belt dragging the floor behind him.
“I thought we paid someone to keep from having house break in middle of the night.”
“You think we pay someone to change smoke detector batteries every six months?”
“We don’t?”
Shane started up the ladder toward the offending plastic box fastened to their 12-foot vaulted ceiling. “No, we do not. I change the batteries in all of them twice a year.”
CHIRP
“Then why is one screaming at us at…” Ilya peered at the clock on the microwave. “Three-twelve in the morning?”
“I don’t know, Ilya. Perhaps the last battery I put in it was faulty.”
Ilya watched Shane carefully climb the ladder. “Where did that ladder come from?”
“The garage.”
“We have a ladder in the garage?”
Now at the ceiling, Shane braced one hand on the ladder and used his other to carefully detach the plastic housing on the smoke detector.
“Yes.”
Wide awake now, Ilya watched Shane nervously. “Do not fall.”
“I don’t intend to.”
“That is what people say right before they fall.”
“I’m being careful.”
“When did we get a ladder?”
“I bought it when you bought this house. We have 12-foot ceilings. We need a ladder.”
“It’s been in the garage for two years and I didn’t know it was there?”
Shane snapped out the old battery and inserted a new one. “Apparently.”
“Do you use this ladder when you change the batteries two times a year?”
“Yes.”
Ilya shook his head. “I did not know,” he mumbled.
Shane snapped the plastic housing back into place and started back down the ladder. When he reached the floor, he glanced at Ilya, who had been joined by Anya. “All better,” Shane said efficiently and began collapsing the ladder. He carried it to the garage, Ilya and Anya on his heels.
“Why are you following me? You can go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I want to see where ladder lives. I did not know it existed.”
Shane leaned the ladder against the far wall, a few feet from the front of Ilya’s sports car. The look on his face when he turned back toward the doorway where his husband stood was priceless.
“It lives here. Right next to your car.”
“This is lie. You just bought this and put it here.”
“You think I rigged the smoke detector to start beeping at three a.m. so I could show you a new ladder?” Shane stopped a few feet from Ilya, hands on his hips.
“Maybe. You are very clever.”
“Well, that’s just dumb. We’ve owned that ladder since you moved in this house. You’ve just never noticed it.” Shane slipped past Ilya and back into the house, closing the door to the garage. Ilya and Anya followed him to the sink and watched Shane wash his hands.
“What else is ladder used for?”
“Changing light bulbs. Cutting down broken branches after a storm. Hanging the Christmas wreath over the garage. Getting the frisbee off the roof last summer when you had the guys over to swim.”
“You pay people to do those things with our ladder.”
Shane laughed as he dried his hands. “I do those things with our ladder, Ilya.”
“Where am I when this ladder business is happening?”
Shane turned off the kitchen lights and started down the hall to the bedroom. Ilya and Anya followed close behind.
“Sometimes you’re not here. Sometimes you’re playing a videogame or watching TV.”
“No. I would notice you on giant ladder if I am here.”
Now in the bedroom, Shane climbed back into their bed. “Well, you’ve never noticed me before now.”
Ilya stood in the middle of the room, looking at Shane in wonder.
Shane laid down and reached to turn off the lamp. “What?”
Ilya shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Because I bought us a ladder?”
“Yes. And because you do all those things and I do not even notice.” Ilya padded around to his side of the bed and climbed in.
“I don’t do any of it to get attention.”
Ilya reached for Shane, pulling him to his chest. “No, you don’t do anything for attention.” He kissed the top of Shane’s head lightly. “You just…”
“What?” Shane murmured, relaxing against his husband.
“You just notice things and fix them. You take care of our house. And me.”
Ilya was quiet for a moment.
“It makes me feel safe.”
Shane lifted his head and kissed Ilya. “I love caring for you.”
They were quiet for a moment, nestled together in the dark.
“Is also weirdly hot to watch you climb ladder. How have I missed this before now?”
“Go to sleep, Ilya.”
VI
The Spider
“Ilya.”
“Ilya!”
“ILYA!”
Ilya appeared in the doorway to their bedroom, his face creased with worry. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Shane was half-dressed, pointing at the corner of their dim bedroom where the ceiling met the wall. “There’s a huge creature on the ceiling!”
Ilya looked, then moved closer, squinting in the low light. “Turn on light.”
“No. It will scare it.”
“I can’t see anything.”
Shane sighed heavily and flipped the switch to turn on the rarely used overhead light. He gasped as light flooded the room.
“Oh my god, it’s giant!”
Ilya was standing just below the corner now, peering up at the black spot on the ceiling. “Is a spider.”
“Is it a tarantula? It looks like one.”
Ilya looked back at Shane. “Tarantulas are common in Canada?”
Shane nodded solemnly. “Maybe. That’s definitely one.”
Ilya smiled. “I do not think so. I think it is just house spider.”
“A house spider? That isn’t comforting at all.” Shane was plastered against the wall farthest from the corner inhabited by the spider.
Ilya looked back at the spider, which had not moved.
“Can you kill it, please?” Shane’s voice was strained.
“It’s not hurting anyone. Why would I murder it?”
“Ilya, I swear to God if you don’t kill it right now…”
Ilya chuckled. “Okay, okay.” He turned and headed toward the hallway.
“Where are you going?” Shane said, panicked.
“To get a chair. I am not nine feet tall.”
Shane’s head swiveled between the spider corner and Ilya’s retreating back.
“Don’t leave – I – okay. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on it so it doesn’t get away.”
Shane stood as still as possible across the room, his eyes laser focused on the black blob in the corner. Just as he heard Ilya approaching, the spider suddenly moved, dropping to the floor.
Shane let out a shriek. “ILYA!”
Ilya reappeared, holding one of their dining chairs.
Shane was pointing at the corner and bouncing on his sock feet. “IT FELL! It’s somewhere on the floor!”
“Okay, I probably need flashlight so I can find it.” Ilya deposited the chair and left the room again.
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” Shane muttered, nervously studying the hardwood floor around him. He thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and immediately leapt onto the bed.
“Ilya!! Hurry!”
“Where is flashlight?” Ilya’s voice called from the other end of the house.
“In the mud room in the cabinet over the washer! HURRY UP!”
After what seemed like an eternity, Ilya was back, a heavy-duty flashlight in hand. “I did not know we had this big light. I feel like I could direct airplanes to land.” He smiled at Shane, who was all nervous energy, bouncing on his knees on the bed.
“Just find it and kill it, please. I lost sight of it and now it could be anywhere.”
“Okay, okay.” Ilya switched on the flashlight and began inspecting the floor under the spot the spider had last been seen.
“Do you see it?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh my god.” Shane moaned. “What if it’s lost in here?”
“I will find it.”
Ilya slid the leather chair aside, sweeping the flashlight along the baseboards. He searched for several minutes while Shane slowly melted down from the bed.
“Ilya, we have to move out. I can’t live here with a tarantula loose in the bedroom.”
Ilya chuckled. “I don’t think is tarantula, babe.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s far too large to share a house with me. We’ll take Anya and go to a hotel while I have an exterminator set off one of those bug bombs that annihilates everything.”
“Seems extreme for one baby spider.”
“Ilya, I am not joking. I will not stay here if you don’t find that thing and kill it.”
Ilya paused his search to look at Shane.
“What?” Shane asked, irritated.
“I did not know this about you.”
“Know what about me?”
“Fear of spiders.”
“Everyone is afraid of spiders.”
Ilya shrugged. “I do not think I am. I mean, I do not really like them, but I am not hiding on bed after seeing one.”
Shane let out an exasperated huff. “Fine, you’re brave and I’m not. Just find the fucking spider and KILL IT.”
With a smug smile, Ilya turned back to his search.
“Ahhh, there you are!” he said triumphantly, shoving aside a nightstand. “I found you. Oh shoot.”
“What? Did it get away? Is it coming toward the bed?”
“No, I need something to kill with.”
Shane hurled himself out of the bed and into the closet. He returned with one of his heavy winter boots.
“Here!” He thrust it at Ilya before climbing back to the safety of the bed.
Ilya smacked the boot against the floor twice before standing up, a victorious smile on his face. “Got it!”
“It’s dead? Are you sure?”
Ilya beamed, smiling. “Uh-huh.”
“Well, get it out of here. Flush it down the toilet just to be sure it’s gone. It might be playing dead.”
“I do not think spiders play dead like those po—possums that live around the cottage.”
“You don’t know that. Just pick it up and PUT IT IN THE TOILET PLEASE.”
Ilya carried the dead spider in a tissue into the bathroom. Shane waited until he heard the toilet flush and then climbed off the bed. Ilya returned to the bedroom, a smug smile on his face.
“I have now made our home safe for you.”
“And Anya.”
“Anya was not scared. She is fearless.”
“She’s not even in here. She would definitely have been scared if she saw that tarantula.”
“Was not tarantula, my pomidor. It was just a normal spider.”
“You just called me a vegetable to distract me.”
Ilya’s face was perfect innocence. “No.”
Shane shook his head and finished getting dressed.
Ilya kissed Shane’s head on his soft hair. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“Say your husband is brave.”
Shane looked at Ilya solemnly. “My husband is very brave.”
Ilya smiled sweetly before kissing Shane’s lips. “Yes. He is.”
After a long day of practice and foundation meetings, Shane was lying in bed staring at the ceiling while Ilya finished in the bathroom. Ilya emerged, turned off the bathroom light, and slid into the bed beside his husband. He leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp when Shane gripped his wrist.
“Wait.”
Ilya looked at Shane questioningly. “What?”
“The spider. Do you think there are more? What if it wasn’t alone?”
Ilya rolled toward Shane, leaning on one elbow. “You think it had family?”
Shane sighed, exasperated. “Don’t.”
Ilya’s face was pure innocence. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
Ilya’s hand gently stroked Shane’s bare chest. “You worry too much. I killed the giant spider and it is gone. It is the first one we have seen here so I think we are safe.”
Shane’s eyes were wide as he looked at Ilya. After a second, he exhaled and some of the tension left his body. “Okay. I know I’m being ridiculous.”
Ilya lightly kissed Shane. “Not ridiculous. Is cute.” He turned off the lamp and settled beside Shane.
They lay quietly for several minutes. Ilya was just drifting off to sleep when Shane spoke in the darkness.
“You just killed it without hesitation.”
“Hmmm?” Ilya said sleepily.
“The spider. You weren’t scared of it.”
Ilya sighed and moved closer to Shane, their shoulders touching. “No, not really scared.”
“I was scared. I hate them so much.” Shane’s voice was quiet.
After a moment, Ilya spoke softly. “Is ok to be scared, Shane.”
“I’m very glad you were here.” Shane was silent for a moment. “It seems silly but when you said you would find it, I believed you. It – I felt relieved a little bit.”
Shane could tell Ilya was smiling in the darkness. “You take care of everything here. House, Anya, me. Is nice to take care of you one time.” Ilya hesitated, then, “To make you feel safe.”
Shane rolled to his side and nestled against Ilya, who lifted his arm and pulled Shane onto his chest.
“You take care of me in many ways, just not ones you see.”
Ilya kissed the top of Shane’s head and they were quiet again.
“You think I am hot when I kill scary spiders, yes?”
“No.”
“You do,” Ilya teased softly.
“Fine. If it will make you go to sleep, I will tell you you were hot when you killed the spider.”
“Is ok to be in denial. I know the truth.”
Shane let out an exasperated sigh before wrapping his arm tightly across Ilya’s chest.
“Goodnight, Ilya.”
“Goodnight, Shane. I’ll watch for spiders while you sleep.”
“Shut up.”