by Hank Edwards
“Yeah, and, you know what?” Carter cocked an eyebrow and moved his phone closer so his face filled Will’s display. “Rex Garland is a man, like you and me, and he’s looking for someone he can be honest and true with. And I happen to know that there is no one more accepting and honest and true himself than you, my friend. I am so lucky to not only have had the pleasure of dating and sleeping with you, but being smart and persistent enough to make sure we remained friends afterwards. You’ve already given him a glimpse inside your heart with those romantic-as-fuck song lyrics. Give Rex a chance to see everything inside you, and he will be smitten for life. I guaran-fucking-tee it.”
A tear rolled down Will’s cheek, and he lifted his shoulder to dab it away before he reached for a tissue and blew his nose.
“Are you crying?” Carter asked in a gentle voice.
“No,” Will stated firmly. “My cold is getting worse, and it’s making my eyes water.” He blew his nose. “Also, I might be crying just a little bit.”
He took a breath and glanced at the drapes covering the window. All of his internal organs seemed to be trembling, as if they had been placed on a paint shaker set to low speed. After a moment to collect himself, Will looked back at his phone and smiled.
“That is the absolute most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” Carter said. “And I meant every word.”
“You mean everything to me, too,” Will said.
“That’s very sweet, but it’s not necessary,” Carter said. “Let’s focus on you and what to do about Rex.”
“You know, I appreciate it, but I’m pretty tired. I think right now I need to turn out the light and go to sleep.”
“Isn’t it early for you there in Boise?”
“Upstate New York,” Will said in a flat tone, but with a smile.
“Right, right.” Carter smiled gently. “I love you, Big Willie.”
“Love you right back, Cartier.”
“Load up on vitamin C, okay?”
“You too.”
“I’m hoping I’m on the downslope of this illness,” Carter said with a dramatic sigh. “My Grindr profile is getting a bit dusty.”
“Get some sleep,” Will said. “Grindr will still be there.”
“Yeah, I hope so.”
Once he’d ended the connection, Will set his phone aside and turned out the light. He lay in the dark, sniffling and looking at the razor-thin line of light leaking in through the heavy drapes. Just a few more days and he would be back in Boston in his own apartment and with Carter and his other friends.
And away from Rex Garland.
Will’s cold seemed to mutate overnight, and he stayed in bed all day Saturday. The only time he got up was to open the door for Doreen when she knocked.
“Holy hell, what happened to you?” she asked.
“I’m sick,” Will said, his voice coming out stuffy due to his congestion.
“All right, step out of the way.” She waved him aside and grabbed fresh sheets from her cart before stepping into his room.
“I’m really not up to company,” Will muttered, hand on the door handle as he watched Doreen stride past.
“You won’t know I’m here,” Doreen said. “Go brush your teeth and use the bathroom. I’ll have your sheets changed in a jiffy.”
“I don’t have the energy to brush my—” Will stopped mid-sentence as Doreen fixed him with a steely look.
“Believe me, you need to brush your teeth,” she said, then turned to fling open the heavy blackout drapes and let in the weak winter sunlight. She looked over her shoulder. “I did good getting your heater fixed, right?”
Will smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah. You did. Thank you.”
She frowned. “You don’t have to look so sad about it.”
“Oh, sorry. It’s just… never mind.”
He stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. One look at his reflection made him wince. He needed a hell of a lot more than a tooth brushing.
It took him twice as long as usual to make himself even halfway presentable because he had to stop every few minutes and catch his breath. When he finally left the bathroom, Doreen had finished with the bed and was stacking clean towels on her arms.
“Thank you,” Will said.
“Okay for me to go in there and clean up?” she asked, nodding toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sure.”
Will took a few steps toward the bed, then stopped when he saw the sheer curtains move a bit. He felt the cold air and, even through his clogged nasal passages, could smell the fresh scent of snow.
“I opened the window a bit to air the room out,” Doreen said as she moved into the bathroom. “It was smelling a bit funky in here.”
“Um, yeah, sure.”
Will moved to the window and looked down into the courtyard. His snowman was still in place on the café table, but there was no sign of Rex. It felt as if something heavy and cold had been placed on Will’s chest. He pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed.
“You don’t like the snowman?”
Will jumped and turned to find that Doreen had come up behind him and peered over his shoulder.
“I like it fine,” Will said, then followed that up with, “I should. I built it.”
“Oh yeah?” Doreen moved to stand beside him for a better look. “Is that what you did the night I saw you trying to get out there?”
“Yeah.” Will realized he had probably said too much and turned away from the window. “It was just a silly thing I thought of. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Isn’t that the room where that singer is staying?”
Will stopped halfway back to the bed and looked over his shoulder. “You know about him?”
“Oh, sure.” Doreen nodded, keeping her back to him. “My daughter likes his music. He’s a nice man, too. Going to make some lucky man happy some day.”
Will’s brain was moving too slow to follow all the turns in his conversation with Doreen. He sat on the edge of the mattress and fixed his gaze on the center of her back.
“Have you met him?” Will asked.
“Rex?” Doreen turned to face him. “I have. I clean his side of the first floor as well as all the rooms up here on three. Do you know him?”
“We’ve spoken in passing, that’s all.” Will shifted his gaze away from Doreen’s intense stare.
“Yesterday he was asking me all sorts of questions about other guests in the hotel,” Doreen said. “Wondered if I knew of any songwriters staying here.” She slid the window shut before facing Will again. “Have you ever written any songs?”
“What? Me?” Will blew a raspberry and shook his head. “No. I’m not a songwriter.”
His heart pounded, and his cheeks burned. He couldn’t look at Doreen, so he shifted his gaze to different spots all around the room.
“You’re a snowman builder, though,” Doreen said.
“What? Oh, yeah, I guess so. But that was just, you know, for fun. It didn’t mean anything. How could I have known that was Rex Garland’s room?”
“I don’t remember saying his last name, so you must know who he is,” Doreen said.
Will stumbled over his words as a feeling of defensiveness surged within him. “Is this some kind of Agatha Christie play or something? Yeah, I know Rex’s music. He’s a very good singer and songwriter. It doesn’t mean I wrote him secret song lyrics or anything.”
“Okay.” Doreen adjusted the sheer curtains a bit before approaching him. “Do you need anything?”
Will shook his head and managed to meet Doreen’s eyes for half a second. That was long enough to see that she’d put it all together and knew what he’d been up to. He busied himself with turning down the covers and fluffing up the pillows, avoiding her gaze and hoping she’d just leave his room.
“No thanks, I’m fine. I appreciate the fresh sheets and towels. And sorry if I sounded snappish just now. I’m tired and don’t feel we
ll.”
“No problem. You rest,” Doreen said as she headed for the door. “Café down the block has good soup if you get an appetite.”
“I’ll remember that.” Will climbed into bed and pulled the covers over him. “Thanks again.”
Doreen paused at the door to look at him, then shifted her gaze to the curtains over the window.
“Sleep well,” Doreen said before she left the room and pulled the door shut behind her.
Will lay beneath the covers and stared up at the ceiling. He let out a breath and shook his head, feeling static build up in his hair from the pillowcase. That hadn’t gone very well at all. He’d pretty much outed himself as Rex’s secret songwriter to two people now: Rex himself and Doreen, who apparently knew and talked to Rex every day.
“Just a few more days,” Will whispered. “Not much longer.”
In the afternoon, Will worked up enough energy to take a shower. While it felt good to be clean, he was exhausted afterwards and got back in bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
His mind spun vivid dreams, most featuring Rex in one way or another. When Will woke again, it was evening, and the only illumination was the light from the courtyard lamps. He fumbled his phone off the nightstand and saw it was seven fifteen. His stomach rumbled, and he thought some soup from the café Doreen had mentioned sounded good.
Getting dressed took a lot of effort, and he had to stop and catch his breath a couple of times. When he was finally ready, Will left his room and leaned against the wall as he waited for the elevator. Once he’d reached the lobby, the sound of Rex’s voice brought him to a stop the minute he stepped through the elevator doors.
“Look, is there any way I can get some kind of information about him?” Rex asked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give out any information about other guests,” a young woman replied. “No matter what the intention might be.”
“Even if I promise and cross my heart I’m not a serial killer looking for a victim?” Rex had turned on the charm, and from his tone of voice, Will could practically see his dimples.
“Even then,” the woman replied with a smile in her voice. “I’m keeping your name and room number a secret, so it’s only fair I do the same for every other guest.”
“Oh? Has someone been asking about me?”
Will eased up to the corner of the elevator alcove and peered around it. Rex was at the front desk, elbows on it and his chin in a palm. The young woman only had eyes for Rex—Will couldn’t blame her for that—so he had a short window in which to escape.
Trying to be fast and quiet, Will left the elevator alcove and headed for the hotel’s main door, keeping his gaze on the floor and pretending to scratch the side of his head to hide his profile. With his eyes on the floor, Will didn’t see the man before him until he heard him call out to Rex.
“Hey, Rex, we’ve gotta go. Come on!”
It was Rex’s manager, Earl, and Will quickly spun and stepped around him with a mumbled, “Excuse me,” before he darted outside. The wind was up, and the cold snatched his breath away. He didn’t have time to react and adjust; he needed to keep moving. Will pulled his hood up, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and trudged away from the hotel.
After walking half a block, he risked a look back. No one followed or stood outside the hotel looking after him. He’d gotten past Rex and Earl both. This time. Will let out a breath that clouded in front of his face. He just needed to do that for the next six days. No pressure.
He stopped and looked around to get his bearings. The diner was in the other direction, and Will set off for it, hoping the soup was as good as Doreen had promised.
10
After Sunday spent mostly in bed, Will felt much better Monday morning. He showered and dressed without having to stop and catch his breath or once staring wistfully at the closed window. Considering that progress on all fronts, physical as well as emotional, he gathered his things and left the room.
When he arrived in the lobby, he eased up to the corner of the elevator alcove and peered around it. From his vantage point, he could just make out the back of Rex’s head where he stood in line for the breakfast buffet. Will’s stomach rumbled impatiently, and he placed a hand over it and smiled briefly at a woman who stepped out of the elevator behind him.
“Waiting for someone,” he said, trying to act casual but thinking he sounded more like a stalker. “Ride to work,” he tried to add, but the woman had already hurried on.
It was a really good thing he would be leaving the hotel at the end of the week.
Pulling his hood up, Will kept his gaze fixed on the door and hurried through the lobby. It had snowed during the night, and he used the side of his arm to brush it off all the car windows, afraid the whole time Rex would come outside and call to him. He managed to clear off enough snow to be able to drive and got into the car, shivering as cold air blew from the vents.
And he was even more hungry now.
He stopped at a fast food drive-through for coffee and a breakfast sandwich and ate it during the drive. It didn’t satisfy like the breakfast at the hotel, but it quieted his rumbling stomach.
Once he arrived at the office and removed his coat and turned on his computer, Will turned and was startled to find Andrew standing close behind him.
“Crap, Andrew, you scared me,” Will said, feeling his blush return as he thought about seeing Andrew at the bar. Dammit, he’d been so worried about Rex; he hadn’t had time to think about how to handle Andrew.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Andrew pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “I never would have taken you for a Rex Garland fan.” He looked Will up and down. “Or someone gay.”
Indignance pushed aside nervousness and stepped to the front of Will’s brain. Because of his size and his preferred style of simple and comfortable clothes, Will had been treated like a secondhand gay ever since he’d come out. Every visit to a gay bar felt like being picked last for teams in gym. Carter’s friendship had helped instill a touch of confidence over the years in Will’s badly bruised ego, and it was this well he drew from as he straightened up to his full height and looked down into Andrew’s pinched and pale face.
“Um, wow, there was a lot of inappropriate stuff packed into that,” Will said. “I suggest you run statements like that through a mental filter first, unless you’d like to pay a visit to Human Resources with me.”
Andrew’s eyes widened, and slashes of crimson spread across his cheeks, making Will feel a warm sense of gratification.
“No, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Andrew stuttered. “I was just surprised to see you at the bar. I had no idea you were gay, that’s all. You looked like you were enjoying the music, so I just wanted to see what you thought.”
“I liked it,” Will said with a cool smile he hoped hid the nervousness building inside. What would Andrew think of his conversation with Rex afterwards? What was he going to say about that long of an interaction?
“Okay, I’ll let you get to work then,” Andrew said with a quick nod.
“Thanks for stopping by,” Will said. “I do have a lot to get to before I leave at the end of the week.”
“Yeah, right, okay.” Andrew managed a quick, humorless smile before turning on his heel and walking off.
Will stood by his desk a moment, savoring the glow from standing up to Andrew as well as the relief that, apparently, Andrew hadn’t witnessed Will’s conversation with Rex after Rex had told Andrew off. That was more of a relief than Will had anticipated, so, with his mood boosted, he hummed his and Rex’s Christmas song all the way to the break room to get coffee.
11
On Thursday evening, Will said goodbye to the people in the office, even Andrew, and stopped in the office of the team leader, Bridget, on his way out the door.
“I fly out tomorrow morning,” Will said. “Thanks for the information you provided while I’ve been here.”
“Oh, ugh, you’re flying out on Christmas Eve? I
hope it’s not a madhouse,” Bridget said. “Thank you for all the help. You got us back on track and ready to work in the new year.” She got up from her desk and handed him a red greeting card envelope. “This is a little token of my appreciation.”
“Thanks very much,” Will said and tucked the card into his messenger bag. “Give me a call if you have questions about any of the work I did.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine. What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Eleven thirty.”
Bridget made a face. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Another storm is predicted for tomorrow morning.”
Will nodded. “I saw that on the news. I intend to leave the hotel extra early and light a couple of candles to the travel gods.”
“Good idea. Safe travels home.”
He shook her hand and waved to a few more people before walking out into the cold. He could smell snow in the air, and it made him shiver as he zipped his coat tighter. While he was more than ready to be home, he would miss Williamsville. Not just because of Rex and the secret song lyrics, but Doreen and the funky little Williamsville Inn as well. His room had been claustrophobic at times, but it had provided him one of the most romantic adventures of his life.
Unfortunately, all adventures had to come to an end, and many of them did not wrap up happily ever after. Even if Will never got the chance to have a coherent conversation with Rex, or even—God, it made his stomach hurt just to think about it—go on a date with him, Will had the memory of the song they’d sort of written together. And hopefully, once Rex released his Christmas album next year, Will would be able to listen to his contribution on repeat.
When he arrived at the hotel, Will hurried through the lobby, just in case Rex or Earl was hanging around. He took the elevator up to his floor, considering whether or not he should pack before or after deciding on dinner. Stepping out into the hallway, he was surprised to see Doreen’s cart parked outside his room and the door propped open. He slid past her cart and into the room to find her hanging up fresh towels.