Rend

by Roan Parrish

  I didn’t text back. Rhys had told me not to. “You can text me anytime you want,” he’d said. “But these are just for you. Just think about them and how much I love you. You don’t have to do anything.”

  And at night…well, at night we went at each other like the world was ending. Sometimes I jumped him as soon as I walked in the door. Sometimes we made it to dinner only to find one of us on his knees under the table. Me, usually. Rhys was far too big to fit under the table. When we made it to the bed, we fucked every which way. Slow and intense, fast and intense, teasing and playful, teasing and serious, we took each other apart and put each other back together again.

  I knew things wouldn’t go on like this forever, but I also knew I felt different than I had before. A little. Different enough that I had hope. For myself, for Rhys, for both of us. And I had another appointment with Susan just after Thanksgiving.

  Now, a tinny voice came from near my hip. The phone.

  “Oops,” Rhys said. “Uh. It’s my mom. I saw you coming up the drive, and I told her she could talk to you.”

  “And you just kept her on the phone while you made out with me?” I punched him in the shoulder, and he gave me a lascivious wink and held out the phone. I shrugged my coat off and took it from him.

  “Um, hey, Mona, hi.”

  “Hi, sweetie. It’s so good to talk to you! Happy Thanksgiving!”

  “Happy Thanksgiving. How are…everyone?”

  “Great! I sent Morgan to the store before it closes to get her out of my hair because she was driving me nuts trying to help. Doug and Neil are throwing a football outside. They’ve been at it for a whole five minutes so I’m sure soon one of them will hurt themselves and they’ll come inside to watch football on TV instead. Sarah’s out there with them. I think she wants to play. Tommy’s building…something that I think just fell over. All’s well!”

  I smiled at the picture she painted, and my mind added Rhys to it. Would he be outside playing football with his dad? Inside chatting with his mom? Terrorizing the kids? For just a moment, I wanted to see it.

  “I, uh, I’m really sorry we didn’t make it. I—”

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. Rhys told me all about how you begged to come visit us and he said no.”

  “I—he did?”

  “No, honey, I’m messing with you.” I snorted. “Anyway, you all have fun with Caleb. Tell him I said I expect an invitation to visit sometime. And tell that rock star boyfriend of his I wouldn’t turn down a ticket next time he comes through here, okay? You are having a real dinner, right?”

  I assured her that we were, and wished her happy Thanksgiving again.

  Rhys and I were bringing apple cider and pies, but Caleb had insisted that he had the rest of the meal under control.

  “I’ve been begging him to learn to cook something other than hash for months, and he decides to start with a whole Thanksgiving dinner,” Theo had told me the other day. “I was like, ‘wow, dude, that’s the dictionary definition of self-sabotage,’ but he’s determined, so. Uh. Maybe eat a big breakfast.”

  I handed the phone back to Rhys and went upstairs to put on real clothes, since I’d walked Max in sweats. When I came down, Rhys had loaded the cider and pies and Max into the truck.

  It was a cold, sunny day, and as we drove away, Max clambered onto my seat and I rolled the window down a couple of inches so he could smell the outdoors. I let him stay there, a comforting weight in my lap, and closed my eyes, letting the sweet smell of late autumn air, Rhys’s truck, and freshly washed dog drift around me.

  I must’ve drifted off, because a warm kiss to my cheek woke me, and I found both Rhys and Max very close.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, gorgeous. We’re here.” Rhys kissed me for real, and I wrapped an arm around his neck. Max let out a huff and flopped back down on my lap.

  “Max totally wants to make out with us,” I said, and Rhys laughed and pushed my unruly hair behind my ear.

  The door opened and Theo stuck his head out, calling, “Hey, guys! Come on in.” Then, when we got close, he whispered, silvery-blue eyes wide, “You didn’t bring any booze did you?”

  “Of course not,” Rhys said, offended. We never drank around Caleb.

  Theo’s face fell. “Dammit,” he said fervently. He took a deep breath, and Rhys and I exchanged a look. “Just. Don’t…uh…never mind.”

  The second we stepped inside, I was hit with the smell of something burning.

  I went to get Max settled in the living room while Rhys headed for the kitchen. I was filling Max’s food bowl when Rhys’s loud belly laugh rang out.

  In the kitchen, Caleb was glaring at Rhys and Rhys was laughing so hard he couldn’t stop. Theo was leaning against the wall, shaking his head.

  What I had smelled burning had clearly been the turkey, which Caleb had been cooking in pieces that looked like they’d been hacked apart with a machete. I wasn’t quite sure why that was so funny since I was pretty hungry, until I saw the counter. What was left, without the turkey, was a dish of mashed potatoes, a dish of fried onions and peppers—from the garden, no doubt—and a plate of deviled eggs.

  When Rhys saw me he grabbed my hand and wheezed, “It’s hash. Everything he cooks turns to hash,” and bent over at the waist laughing so hard he was wiping away tears.

  Theo was still shaking his head, but he was clearly trying not to laugh.

  “It’s not hash!” Caleb insisted. “The deviled eggs are an appetizer!”

  Rhys howled with laughter and I pushed him out of the kitchen.

  “Do you want me to go…uh, buy something?” I asked.

  Caleb glared at me.

  Theo eased between us.

  “Aw, come on, it’s fine! Here, we still have the stuffing to make.” He held up a bag of Stove Top stuffing. “And the deviled eggs, potatoes, veggies. You guys brought pie. It’s great.” He tugged Caleb’s sleeve and slid a hand from his stomach up his chest. “Babe, it’s gonna be fine.”

  Caleb sighed and relaxed. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing at the stove.

  “Hey, maybe we can salvage some of it,” Theo said. He used a fork to pull the skin off a few pieces of turkey, revealing that some of it was okay. “Here, I’ll do this. You do the stuffing.”

  Caleb did as he said, and I poured us some cider. Rhys crept back into the room and dropped his arm around my shoulders.

  “Why’d you cook it like that anyway, man?” he asked Caleb.

  Caleb sighed. “I thought it’d cook faster this way. We, uh, got kind of a late start this morning.” His eyes flicked toward Theo, and Theo studiously avoided eye contact with any of us, but when he moved to get a plate I saw that his long hair covered a livid hickey on the side of his neck.

  After another hour of mucking around in the kitchen, we sat down to eat. The food actually looked pretty good. Rhys heaped his plate with mashed potatoes, piled stuffing and veggies on top of the potatoes, put some chunks of turkey on top of that, drenched the whole thing in gravy, and balanced two deviled eggs on top.

  He plastered an innocent expression on his face, cleared his throat, and said, “I just want to say how thankful I am for this delicious Thanksgiving hash—”

  Caleb shoved him, and Rhys started cracking up again. Then Caleb looked at Rhys’s plate and slowly shook his head, expression completely unamused.

  “Oh my God, everything I cook turns to hash.” Then he started laughing too.

  Theo turned wide eyes on me, as if to say, Wow, they’re ridiculous.

  “Okay, but for real,” Rhys said when he got his laughter under control. “I’m so thankful for having all of you in my life. Caleb, it’s good to have you back, my friend.” Caleb squeezed his arm. “Theo, I’m so damned glad Caleb met you. For his sake and for mine, because you’re awesome.” Theo ducked his chin and smiled.
>
  Then Rhys turned to me, and my eyes went wide with panic that he was about to say some shit that was gonna make me cry in front of Caleb and Theo.

  “Matty, my love.” He paused. “I’ll get you later.” And he winked.

  The relief in my sigh was probably completely obvious, but I didn’t care. I was thankful as fuck for the amazing things Rhys said to me every day. And I was doubly thankful that he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

  Caleb said, “I’m really fucking glad I met you too,” to Theo. It was clear that they weren’t going to get all mushy with each other at the table either. Then he turned to Rhys. “And I’m so glad you’re still around. Even if I want to punch you like forty percent of the time. You’re…I had no reason to think you’d tough it out with me all these years. But I’m really damn lucky you did.” He looked down at his plate, then gave Rhys a wobbly smile.

  “Uh-oh, are we all doing this?” Theo asked.

  “Wait,” Caleb said. “I forgot. Matt. I’m so glad Rhys found you. I’ve never seen him so happy. He’s a total goober whenever he talks about you.”

  “Oh, um. Thanks,” I said. Was this what Thanksgiving was? A bunch of people saying really embarrassing and awkwardly emotional things in front of each other?

  As if Theo read my mind, he raised his glass of cider and said, “I’m thankful for the fact that Rhys and Matt got a dog because now I can play with Max and convince Caleb how essential one is to my happiness.”

  He gave Caleb a sparkly grin, and I watched Caleb basically melt in real time.

  Then, despite me shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth to signal that the confessional part of the day was done and the eating part was commencing, all eyes were on me.

  In the corner of the living room, even Max’s sad eyes and smiley mouth seemed directed toward me. Fuck it. I cared about all of them, and they already knew more about me than I’d thought anyone would.

  “I…I’m. I feel like I finally have…a life. And I’m glad you’re all in it,” I said directly to my potatoes. Under the table, Rhys’s hand found mine, warm and strong and steady.

  After we’d eaten more mashed potatoes than I’d ever consumed in my life, we sat outside on the porch wrapped in blankets.

  “So, your fundraiser, for the art thing at Mariposa,” Theo started, leaning toward me. “I was telling Rhys, I wanna help. Donate, whatever.”

  “That’s really nice, man,” I said. “I have a budget proposal that I wrote up that I can send to you.”

  “Um…sure, okay. Well. You can. But do I have to read it?”

  I laughed. “I guess not. You’ve got gobs of money, if you wanna use it to help then that’s awesome.”

  “Okay, cool, thanks.” Caleb snorted and smiled at Theo, shaking his head. “What?” Theo elbowed him. “So. Just tell me how you want me to play this. I could totally get in touch with some other people who might want to donate, or I can be all super secret Santa about it. Your call.”

  “Oh. Well. Probably secret Santa would be better. If your rock star friends wanna give money, that’s awesome. But if the program’s gonna have any hope of longevity it’s gotta be able to have self-sustaining fundraising rather than just a large infusion of cash up front. It’s the only way to see if it’ll be viable, long term.”

  Once the program was up and running, an endorsement from someone like Theo, with rock star shine, would put it on people’s radars and hopefully we could mine some monthly donors.

  As Caleb and Theo and Rhys talked about all the musicians and artists they knew who might be interested, or might have instruments and materials they’d donate, my mind wandered to all the things the project could do.

  In a few years, we could get some of the folks who’d benefited from the program and gone on to have careers to talk about what resources helped them. Maybe if we raised enough money, we could even have some studio space that people could rent in addition to supplies and instruments.

  There were organizations like Mariposa in cities all over the country. If the program worked for us, and there was enough consistent interest to keep it funded, then there was a chance that other organizations might model programs after this one. Maybe it could even be this project with arms in other cities.

  It was a far larger scale than I’d initially thought of for the project, but…hadn’t I proved to myself—well, hadn’t Rhys proved to me—that I could have far more than I had ever imagined?

  * * *

  —

  Autumn turned to winter nearly overnight, and a few mornings later, I woke early to the spit of snow against the bedroom windows. Rhys slept peacefully beside me, and I wasn’t sure what woke me for a moment.

  Then I heard a noise downstairs and froze, ears pricking. I put my hand on Rhys’s shoulder to feel the warm solidity of his skin, then slid out of bed. I crept down the stairs, past the front door, and then heard it again from the kitchen.

  Clip-clop, clip-clop.

  I swallowed hard. I’d thought the horseman was vanquished, but I could hear it outside.

  I slid my feet into Rhys’s boots that sat by the back door and pulled on Rhys’s hoodie that hung there. When I opened the door, the backyard was a winter wonderland, at least a foot of snow blanketing everything, and the trees glinting in the early morning light.

  In the center of the patio was a dark spot. A deer was thrashing, its leg somehow caught in the tangle the wind and snow had made of our grill and a folding chair. Its delicate hooves beat a clip-clop on the patio it’d cleared.

  Its eyes were huge and wild and as it saw me, it let out a whine.

  I walked toward it slowly, my hands out.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”

  It looked like if I could lift the grill, the deer could yank the chair away from it and pull itself free. Slowly, so slowly, I crept closer, but the deer thrashed in terror.

  “Stop, don’t hurt yourself, just let me help you.”

  I gave it as wide a berth as I could and lifted the grill. The deer pulled hard, the chair came loose, and it sprang away the second it was free. Bounding over the fence and across the road, it turned for a moment and paused, looking back at me.

  With the fear gone, its eyes were warm and liquid. The snow reached to its knees, and the wind gusted around it, but it stood, intent and watchful, like nothing could touch it. Then it vanished into the snow like specter.

  I watched it go and felt my own kind of tearing loose, like something that had been caught in my chest for a long time, was gone.

  Chapter 16

  Over the next month, I worked with Theo, Rhys, Caleb, and a number of their friends on the project I’d decided to call From Pianos to Paint.

  Using some of the money Theo donated, I hired Noé Caldera to help me. Who better to speak to the need than him? Who better to reach out to people who’d been where he currently was? That, and his newfound sense of purpose, finally showed me why Imari had first hired me at Mariposa. He’d lost some of his joking bravado and gained a steely dedication to the project. He’d had a lot of good ideas, too.

  One day, we were working in my office when Theo stuck his head in, brushing snow out of his long hair.

  “Hey, Matty, got a sec? I was at the studio so I thought I’d stop by.”

  “No fuckin’ way,” Noé said. “Are you Theo fuckin’ Decker?”

  “Yeah. Are you Noé fucking Caldera?”

  “Holy shit, you know my name.”

  Theo came in and shook Noé’s hand.

  “Course I know your name. Matt talks about you all the time. About what a great job you’re doing. I’m really glad to meet you.”

  Noé appeared to be speechless, which I would keep in mind for the future, since I’d never seen it before.

  “So, what’s up?” I asked.

  “Oh right
. No big deal, but Huey’s got a minor crisis at the bar, and I was wondering if we could borrow Max. Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

  Huey was Caleb’s longtime friend and sponsor, and he owned the bar where Rhys and I had met. I wasn’t sure what kind of crisis required a dog, but I was sure Theo would never let anything happen to Max.

  “Don’t you have your own dog now?”

  A blissful smile lit up Theo’s face. Caleb had gotten Theo a puppy for Christmas. Theo had named him Solo (as in guitar, not as in Han, he’d explained, making it clear others had misunderstood). Solo was a wriggly, bouncy little hellion, and Theo was totally in love with him. Caleb called him “your dogbeast” and refused to admit he was just as in love with him as Theo was.

  “This is not a job for the dogbeast,” Theo admitted.

  “Uh, sure. Max’s at home with Rhys.”

  “Perfect, Caleb’s kinda already on his way there to get him.”

  “Okay.” Theo was fidgetier than usual, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Couldn’t Caleb have just asked Rhys?”

  “Oh, he did. But I mean. He’s your dog too. So. Oh, and anyway I wanted to drop this off.” He pulled some signed paperwork out of his bag and put it on my desk.

  “Okay, cool. Thanks.”

  Weirdo.

  “ ’Kay, great, gotta go, Matty, have a good one. Bye, Noé.” And then he was gone.

  “Yo, is that dude in love with you and makin’ up excuses to drop in, or just the world’s worst liar?”

  “I’m going with door number two, but I don’t know what he’s lying about. Who lies about borrowing a dog?”

  Noé appeared to consider this, but didn’t come up with any more of an explanation than I did.

  * * *

  —

  When I got home, I called out for Max before remembering that Caleb had come and taken him. Rhys appeared instead.

  “I can’t believe they took our dog. Did Caleb tell you why Huey needed him?”

  Rhys shook his head. “No, he was in a rush. Probably something with one of his sponsees. Hey, maybe he had the same idea you did about the healing power of dog hugs.”