Choices, p.8
Choices, page 8
Charlie said, “No wonder people want a piece of Brian.”
Nick nodded.
Charlie tilted his head like a curious dog. “What now, Rugo? Are you going to ask him to Find Ariana? Or hang about being moody?”
“I’m not moody!”
Brian said quickly, “At least you know she’s alive.”
“Yes.” Nick’s forehead smoothed out. “Thank you. Yes. That’s huge.”
“She’s probably doing fine. I mean, most people are, right? Maybe short of money or something, but doing okay. You don’t have to go looking.”
A muscle in Nick’s jaw twitched. “I will. Someday.” He squeezed Brian’s shoulder. “What about you? Do you need to lie down? Eat something?”
A sudden wash of fatigue hit Brian, fading everything under its weight. His headache thinned and spread; Nick’s face blurred. “I might stretch out till Lori gets back.”
Nick shifted his grip to slide under Brian’s arm. “Come on. We can toss that mattress down on the floor in the bedroom.”
“Okay.” He wasn’t about to pass out but his legs didn’t want to move, and he didn’t mind Nick’s wiry strength as he made it to his feet.
Charlie smiled warmly at him. “That was a good thing you did.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Was simple.”
“Still. Knowing she’s alive, even if Nick’s too chickenshit to ever go look for her? That’s a big deal. For me too, after all the time I spent helping Nick search. So thanks.”
He managed a smile in return, pulled free of Nick’s grip, and stumbled for the bedroom. Nick went ahead of him to tip the mattress away from the wall. The bed frame was still waiting to be assembled, but the mattress hit the floor with a thump and a puff of dust.
“Ugh.” Nick waved a hand in front of his face. “There. Lie down and take it easy.”
“Thanks.” Brian sat down carefully and didn’t protest when Nick knelt to take off his shoes.
Nick rubbed Brian’s feet as he set the sneakers aside. “How bad was it? You want painkillers? You look like your head hurts.”
“Some. Not that much. It’s been lots worse than this.”
“No shit. I’ve seen you pass out. Doesn’t mean you’re okay.”
“I’ll be fine. I don’t want drugs.” He looked up at Nick. “I’m so glad she’s not dead.”
“Ah, hell.” Nick sat down beside him, more of a fall than a deliberate movement. Brian wrapped an arm around Nick’s back, and Nick sighed so long it was like all the air leaving his body. He said, “I had so many nightmares… you know? Where I couldn’t save her, and she died a hundred ways. Now they’re gone.”
“Good.” Brian hugged him harder despite the throb in his forehead. “I’m glad.”
Nick returned the hug, then pushed away and stood. “You should rest. I’ll let you know when food gets here.”
“Okay.” Brian leaned back and let himself fall flat onto the mattress. The faint scent of Nick in it soothed him. Home. He closed his eyes, listening vaguely to Nick rustling around with something. A soft weight drifted down over him. He cracked an eyelid to see the green fuzz of a well-known blanket inches from his nose.
“Get some sleep.” Nick’s voice came from far away.
“Mm.” It was too much effort to look. Brian let his eyes drift shut again. “Love you.” He could at least say that much, but there was no response and he wasn’t sure Nick heard him. No matter. He’d say it again, often. He curled up under the warm wool and hugged himself. I did something important for Nick. He’d often felt like a burden to Nick, a weight, a risk, but this? This was something big he’d given in return. He fell asleep repeating that, for the pleasure of it.
Chapter 6
Nick had to admit Charlie’s new place was nicer than his own, but it was up a freakin’ steep flight of stairs. He eased down the iron bed frame he’d carried up and glanced around to make sure he was alone before rubbing his aching back. Charlie and Lori didn’t have much stuff, but neither one of them was supposed to be doing heavy lifting. And both of them were damned stubborn. One hint that he wasn’t perky as a feather, or whatever, and they’d be insisting on helping. Which was not happening on his watch.
He straightened fast as Charlie came into the room.
“Thanks, man.” Charlie lowered a bag full of bedding to the floor.
“No problem. I’ll think of a way for you to pay me back. But seriously, the one-armed man and the fat broad, and you picked a second-floor duplex with no elevator?”
“Hell, yeah. Decent rent, fast move-in, three bedrooms, big fenced yard, and best? Two freaking full bathrooms! Ding, ding, ding. Winner, second floor or not.”
“Only ’cause you have friends to do all the work.”
“What else are friends for?”
“Buying the beer?”
“That I can do. When you’ve earned it.”
Nick waved at the iron frame leaning against the wall. “Hey, you now have a bed. What more do you need?”
“A mattress might be good. You and I could—”
“We could wait for Brian and Doc to show up, is what we could.” He pushed past Charlie into the short hallway. “Come on, there’s more small crap in the truck.”
Charlie followed him out onto the landing. Downstairs, the front door opened and Lori came in with a laundry basket. Nick yelled, “Hey, set that down and I’ll lug it up the stairs.”
She tipped her head to look up at them. “I think I can carry ten pounds. I bet this kid already weighs more than that.”
“Yeah, looks like he’s big as a moose.” Nick jogged downstairs, with Charlie following more slowly. “Still, why hike up and down when I’m volunteering.”
Lori’s expression suggested she couldn’t decide whether to get mad or thank him. She shoved the basket full of towels at him. “When you put it that way, here. Run this up for me.” With a sharp tug of the door she went back outside.
Charlie said, “Why do you keep ragging on her?”
“Why not?” Nick got a better grip on the basket. “I don’t know. She bugs me.” Brian’s relationship with his siblings was complicated, and it probably rubbed off on him. “Has she said ‘thank you’ to you yet?”
“Yes. Half a dozen times.”
“She’s getting a hell of a deal.”
“Let me worry about that.” The sound of a truck pulling up outside caught their attention, and Charlie turned to the front door.
Nick ran up the stairs quickly and dropped the basket in the closer bathroom. With luck, that truck was Brian, who’d promised to help Yasmin with something goat-related on the farm. Doc was bringing him over after work. Maybe now they could finish up.
He took the stairs down three at a time. Because he wanted to get the truck empty, of course, not because he wanted to see Brian… smile, like that. As he reached the porch, Brian was getting out of Doc’s pickup, and the look on his face as he caught sight of Nick would’ve melted the coldest Minnesota ice.
Nick put a hand on the porch rail and vaulted down to the walkway. “Hey there. Done playing the lonely goatherd?”
Charlie laughed. “Yodelayheehoo.”
Brian flushed but told Charlie, “Hey, Maria, you got the tune right. Favorite movie?”
It was cool that Brian was getting comfortable ribbing Charlie back. Nick went over and nudged Brian’s shoulder. “Didn’t work too hard? Ready to do some heavy lifting?”
Brian smiled at him. “Yeah, sure.”
Doc came around the hood of the truck. “How much more is there?”
“Not a lot. The mattresses and box springs your mom’s lending them. A few other bits.”
Over by the rental truck, Lori said, “Your mom’s great, Zander. We totally owe her.”
“She’s all that.” Zander headed toward her. “She’s really glad of Brian’s help. So am I. I got out of helping trim goat hooves.”
Brian said, “It was kind of cool. The way you can sit them on their butt and they hold still. Some. Not as well as the sheep do.”
Lori sniffed. “So you have your pets at last. Win-win. Did you shower before coming over?”
Nick tugged Brian close and placed a blatant kiss on his neck, then rose on tiptoe to nuzzle his hair. “Yep, Lor, I promise, he showered.”
From the porch behind them, an old man’s voice said, “Y’all look like the United Nations out here.”
They all turned. The guy standing by the front door had to be the so-far-unseen downstairs neighbor. He was small and wiry, with wisps of white hair framing his shiny bald scalp. By contrast, his eyebrows were bushy and drawn down. He stood there eyeing them, arms folded, dressed in a faded T-shirt and striped pajama pants.
Charlie made the first move, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. “Hi, sir. I’m Charlie Connors. I’m moving in upstairs.”
The old man didn’t come forward to meet him. “Yeah? You and who else? The black boy or the two men kissing like this is San Francisco?”
Charlie lowered his hand. “These are all friends of mine, but I’ll be sharing with Lorraine, over there.” He gestured at Lori.
“She your wife?”
“She’s a friend.”
“Girlfriend? I’m not so narrow-minded as that.”
“No. She just needs a place to stay when the baby comes.”
The man looked at her. “Yeah. Looks like she’s about to pop. When are you due, girlie?”
Lori said with a perfectly sweet smile, “Another three weeks yet.”
The old man tilted his head. “I’m betting on sooner. Doctors don’t know nothing. When my wife got that big, I knew to keep the bags by the door. The father’s not around, huh?”
Lori’s smile didn’t falter. “No, sir, I’m on my own. But I have good friends.” She gestured at Charlie.
“Well, that’s something. Sometimes friends are better than a deadbeat dad. You tell these boys not to let you lift nothin’, unless they want that trip to the hospital to happen tonight.”
Charlie said, “Don’t worry. We’re taking care of her.”
The old man nodded firmly and came down the front steps in his bare feet. “Frank King.” He held out his hand. “Good to meet ya.”
Charlie shook hands.
The man looked around the group. “Y’all aren’t from around here, are you?”
“Nope,” Charlie said less tightly. “Minnesota.”
“Guess I can make allowances. After y’get moved in, y’all come on down for coffee and cake. My wife’ll give me hell if I don’t invite you right off.”
“That’s kind of you,” Charlie said, “but I promised the guys pizza and beer.”
“Even better. Bring it along. She might let me eat pizza for once.” Frank put a hand on his chest. “Heart, y’know. They’ve got me on one of those diets where you live forever if you eat cardboard. I can break it for a special occasion.”
Nick couldn’t resist asking, “What about the gay guys and the black man? We all welcome too?”
“Why the hell not?” Frank peered at him. “Did I get your feathers ruffled?”
Nick jerked a thumb at Doc, standing stone-faced by the truck. “For one thing, he’s not a boy.”
“If you say so. Don’t none of y’all look old enough to shave to me.”
Charlie said, “And you don’t think your wife will care about the gay guys?”
“Ah, hell, no. She’s real open minded. Always has been. Now me, it took a while for me to be okay with the blacks and the queers. Was probably my second tour in ’Nam, I finally realized that the lieutenant from that good white Charleston family was mean as a snake, and the guys hauling my ass out from under fire were the darkest guys on the squad. When I started lookin’ under the skin, I eventually got my head ’round the idea that white don’t mean nothing special, you know?”
“Sure.”
“As for the gays, well, that was tougher. Not that there’s probably any man that did tours overseas can say he never went behind the latrines with another guy. But that felt like a different thing. A guy has needs, you know? Didn’t mean we were queer.”
“Um.”
“And when I got back here, the preacher was shouting up and down that gay folk were damned to hellfire. But my Helen, she kept working on me. Got me to change churches, too. What a man won’t do for a pretty woman, huh?” He glanced at Nick. “Well, some men.”
Nick wasn’t sure what the answer to that was, so he shrugged and slid an arm around Brian.
“Yeah. Anyway, Helen wouldn’t hold with anyone going to hell for lovin’ somebody. Can’t say as I have strong feelings on that, like she does, but I’m good with live and let live, you know? And the world’s changing. Hell, there’s even that gay guy in football now.”
Charlie said, “And probably a lot more who aren’t out yet.”
Frank gestured at Nick and Brian. “Now doing that kind of thing? That could get you hurt around here. Not like up North, I guess. It’s probably smart to keep it off the street, but personally I don’t care what goes on in a man’s house, as long as you don’t wake Helen up when she’s sleeping.”
Brian said in a stuffed voice, “The baby might. When it comes.”
“That’s different. Can’t nobody keep a baby from crying. Anyway, Helen loves babies. She’ll be thrilled. Last couple upstairs, they fought all the damned time, and then made up like cats in heat, but never had any kids. Left the place a mess and ran out on the rent. Wait here.” He turned, climbed the steps, and went inside.
Nick exchanged looks with Charlie, who shrugged. “At least he doesn’t have a problem with the blacks and the gays.”
“Right.”
The door opened again, and Frank came back out with a crumpled bill in his hand. He held it out to Charlie. “Here. Order a plain cheese and mushroom for us. Helen can’t eat the pepperoni anymore, gives her gas. Come on down and knock when you’ve got it. Helen’s napping now, but when I tell her, I bet she’ll bake a cake.”
Charlie said, “You don’t have to pay for it.”
“Now, son, ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. Or a free pizza. You take the money. Then you get that poor girl’s bed up in her room so she can get off those swollen ankles, and you order up some dinner. Right?”
Charlie took the money with a blink. “Sure. Yes, sir.”
“Attaboy.” Frank turned and marched back inside.
Doc laughed. “At least you’ll be able to get along with the neighbors. If you can get a word in edgewise.”
Brian said, “Don’t you mind the stuff he called you?”
“I’m not crazy about being called ‘boy’, at all. But I’m not sure the old guy really hears what’s coming out of his mouth. I’ve met a lot worse folk.”
“I guess.”
“Oh, believe me.” Doc’s tone had a definite edge to it.
Lori said, “Well, you heard Frank. Carry my bed upstairs before my ankles pop, or whatever he said. Pretty please?”
Nick said, “I think it was your belly that was going to pop. Yeah, let’s not have that happen till we get our cake and pizza. C’mon, Brian, grab a mattress with me.”
As they maneuvered one out of the truck, Charlie said, “Hey, Zander, I think we can get the other one. It’s just a single.”
Charlie was looking a little gray and not like someone who should be lifting stuff. Nick quickly said over his shoulder, “Why don’t you call for the pizza, while we run this one up? I’m starving.”
Charlie frowned at him. “You’re not even a bit subtle, Rugo.”
“All right. Sit your fucking damaged carcass down for ten minutes. You look like roadkill.”
“I liked you better when you were trying for subtle.” But Charlie moved away from the truck and got out his phone, which said something about how he was feeling.
The pizza arrived when Nick and Brian were locking up the now-empty truck. The delivery guy handed Doc a stack of boxes and collected his money from Charlie. Brian glanced from the boxes to the house. “Do you think we should go knock on their door?”
Before Nick could answer, Frank pulled the front door open and stuck his head out. “There it is. The good stuff. Bring it on in, boys. And gal.” He disappeared back inside, leaving the door standing ajar.
“Here.” Doc shoved the pizza boxes at Nick, who managed to balance them.
“What?”
“I’m going home. Don’t want to leave Mama all by herself for dinner.”
Nick would’ve teased him about preferring his mother’s company to theirs, but he was trying to control his tendency to dig at people. “Oh. You want to take some pizza?”
“She’d disown me. Besides, I ate so much of it in residency, I’ll never pick it over home cooking. See you.” Doc headed for his truck.
Charlie called after him, “Hey, Zander, thanks for the hand!”
Doc waved over his shoulder but didn’t turn.
Brian whispered, “You think Frank hurt his feelings? Should we tell him not to talk like that?”
Nick gazed after the departing classic pickup. “I don’t know if Doc wants us fighting his battles for him.”
“I’ll ask him tomorrow,” Brian said.
The simple sweetness of his boyfriend washed over Nick like a wave. He’s a better man than me. He had to remind himself this really wasn’t the ideal place to kiss the hell out of Brian. “Come on, pizza’s getting cold.”
They trooped into the entryway, where they met Lori coming back down. The door to the downstairs unit stood open. Brian knocked on the door frame. “Hello?”
Frank called, “Come on in. Table’s over here.”
The downstairs unit was laid out the same as Charlie and Lori’s, with the kitchen ahead and the living room off to the left. Between the two was a polished wooden table where Frank stood. An unmatched set of chairs crowded around the table, suggesting the old man had done his best to pull together seating for all of them.
In an armchair at the head of the table sat a tiny old woman. She smiled at Nick as he brought his armload of white boxes over to set down. “Ah, y’all do know the way to my husband’s heart, don’t you?”
