by Lyra Marlowe
“This weekend?”
“Oh. Can you get away that soon? I mean, I’d love for you to come, but I don’t know if I can get an extra day off.”
“Oh I can probably find something to do while you’re working.”
“I bet you can.”
“I make friends easily.”
“I know you do. You’re just like John.”
Lucy nodded. She’d never met John, but she liked what Nolan had said about him in the past. “So are you going to let me meet him this time?”
“I might,” Nolan answered slowly. “I just might.”
She knew that tone of voice. “Now what are you up to?”
“Nothing,” he protested. “Nothing at all.”
“Yeah. You don’t do hurt innocence for shit, Nolan. I’ll shoot you an e-mail once I get my ticket, okay?”
“Thank you.”
Lucy grinned. “Love you, Nolan.”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Three
In the morning, Nolan announced, “I took your advice.”
“That’s a first,” John answered. He had no idea which advice his partner had taken.
They hadn’t even gotten their first cups of coffee that morning before they took a call on a possible heart attack. The victim was gray when they got to him. He was a little pinker by the time they got him to the hospital, and he was still conscious. Odds were very good he’d make it.
The doctors were on rounds by the time they got him turned over to the ER staff, so the paramedics ducked into the doctor’s lounge for good coffee.
“You said I should get out more, see people,” Nolan said. He dumped three packets of sugar into the excellent brew.
“Oh, that. Good.”
“I called an old friend and she’s coming up next week.”
“She?” John asked, mildly surprised.
“I do have women friends, you know.”
“And I notice you never introduce me to any of them.”
“Which is why they stay my friends.” Nolan shook his head. “I might let you meet Lucy. You’d like her. She’s got kind of a wild streak.”
John grunted. “Your idea of a wild streak is a lot different from mine.”
“Okay. She’s got what you would call a wild streak.”
“Sounds interesting.”
Nolan smiled. “First woman I ever slept with.”
Now John’s interest was definitely piqued. “Lucy’s the girl who made you gay?”
His partner laughed out loud. “You are such a jackass.”
“True.” John smiled himself, down at his coffee. It always pleased him when he could make Nolan laugh at a sensitive subject. Honestly, Nolan Crane was the most self-accepting gay man John had ever known, but there were still times when he could tell the difference hurt. John had made it a point to highlight all their differences, not just their sexuality, and in a backward way it had made their friendship better. It wasn’t just that Nolan was gay. It was that he’d settled down for ten years with his lover—something John could barely begin to imagine. It was that he put way too much sugar in perfectly good coffee. It was that he could diagnose a computer problem from twenty yards away, while John could barely manage to turn it on and surf for porn. It was that Nolan had six speeding tickets and two fender-benders on his driving record, while John’s was spotless.
As partners, they were very good together.
“We’re going to rent a van,” Nolan continued. “Clean out that storage locker finally, and then Lucy’s gonna help me buy some new furniture.”
John’s eyes narrowed. Three days after Nolan threw his faithless lover out, he’d come home to find more than half of their furniture gone. John had urged him to call the police and report it stolen, since Kevin never held a steady job and Nolan had paid for everything in the apartment, but of course he wouldn’t. For months now the apartment had been half empty.
If he was ready to buy furniture, maybe Crane really was moving on.
“Let me know if you need help,” he offered. “I’ll be happy to round up some firemen to move furniture.”
“Knew I could count on you.”
John sipped his coffee, wondered again why his partner felt the need to sweeten it. Whatever. Nolan was moving forward. It was progress.
*
A deep voice said, “Hey!” and before Nolan could turn, a massive hand landed on his shoulder. He turned carefully to face the policeman who stood behind him. Then he had to look up, because the man was half a foot taller than him.
“I know you from somewhere, don’t I?” the cop demanded.
“Uh…maybe,” Nolan admitted. The heavy hand was still on his shoulder. “I’m Nolan Crane. I’m a paramedic.”
The cop grinned broadly. “That’s right,” he said. He lifted his paw and slapped it down a few times. “You jump-started my partner last year. Johnny Dietz, remember? Had a heart attack chasing a shoplifter.”
Nolan nodded. “I remember.” He did. They’d worked on the fallen officer for about twenty minutes before they got any kind of a steady pulse. He should have been brain dead by then. Carefully, he asked, “How’s he doing?”
The cop shrugged. “Eh. He’s on a desk now, bitches about it all the time.”
“He’s lucky he’s alive to be bitching.”
“That’s what I tell him. I tell him, ‘Damn it, Johnny, you get to go home to your little girls every night, get to tuck them in when you should be six feet under. You’re the luckiest man on this planet’. But he doesn’t listen.”
“I’m glad,” Nolan said sincerely. “I’m glad he’s alive and bitching.”
“Yeah.” The cop finally withdrew his hand. “I thought for sure I was going to watch him die.” He shrugged, embarrassed. “It was really somethin’, the way you and that other guy stayed with him.”
Crane nodded. There was no point in telling this man that he and John had decided with a glance that the man had exactly one more minute of resuscitation before they gave up on him. One more minute had been all he needed.
“So what brings you out to the airport?”
“I’m meeting someone,” Nolan answered, happy to change the subject. “She should be…” Then he saw her, and forgot what he was saying. “Excuse me,” he muttered, and started across the concourse.
“Sure, sure.”
He moved upstream against the wave of exiting passengers. Lucy was moving with them, but dragging a suitcase. They met in the middle of the concourse. Nolan stopped and simply wrapped his arms around her, and Lucy hugged him right back. Other people made grumbling noises, and some of them bumped into them, but it didn’t matter. She was there, right there, warm and loving and just right. The way she always had been.
The hug stretched on. It felt so damn good just to hold her, to feel some human contact after so long. “I don’t know how to let go of you,” he said quietly.
Lucy giggled. “Then don’t.”
“Okay.”
The police officer, however, had other ideas. The big hand descended again. “Hey, uh, you’re kind of blocking traffic here.”
Nolan reluctantly stepped back, though he kept one arm over Lucy’s shoulder. “Sorry, sorry.”
The cop looked the woman beside him up and down. “Not sayin’ I blame you any.”
Lucy smiled brightly. It was a smile that could make men walk into walls. “We’ll get out of the way,” she promised.
“Okay. Thanks.”
They walked, though not quickly. “How’ve you been?” Lucy asked.
It was a loaded question. She knew how he’d been. He’d called her after the breakup, and she’d called him every night after for several weeks, until he asked her to stop. She knew what he’d been through. And she’d know now if he lied. “I’m better,” he said honestly. “Not all better, but lots better.”
“And we’re really going to buy furniture?”
“I promise.”
She looked over at him, her brown eyes warm a
nd serious at the same time. “Good. I’ve been worried about you.”
“You and John both. I know.” He shrugged. “So here I am. Socializing.”
Lucy laughed. “Oh is that what we’re calling this now? Socializing?”
She was a gorgeous woman. He was a gay man. They’d known each other since before kindergarten. They’d spent a weekend making love once. They never would again. But they always slept in the same bed when they were together. “I don’t know what the hell this is,” Nolan answered. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
*
Lucy looked around his apartment, her lips pursed in disapproval. He’d told her that Kevin had taken a lot of the furniture, but he could see in her posture that she hadn’t expected it to be this bad. He watched her gaze linger on the tiny TV. But when she finally spoke, all she said was, “Well, good. We can buy all kinds of new stuff.”
“Thanks,” Nolan answered.
“For what?”
“For not saying you told me so.”
Lucy gazed at him. “I did, you know.” A little teasing smile played around the corners of her mouth.
“I know you did.”
“Bed first,” she decreed. “That futon thing is not going to cut it. And then a decent TV set.”
“Whatever you say,” Nolan agreed happily.
*
“You have frozen dinners,” Lucy announced.
“Yeah.” Nolan finished opening a second bottle of beer and glanced over at her. She was standing in front of the open freezer with her hands on her hips. “I don’t cook much.”
“I know. But shrimp in linguini? Sea bass? You don’t even like seafood.”
“Yeah,” he said again, slowly. “You’re welcome to them, but they’re probably outdated.”
“They’re Kevin’s.”
“Yeah.”
Lucy and Kevin had met twice, and heartily disliked each other both times. But she didn’t comment on that. Instead, she shook her head. “So they’re six months old. Ewww.”
“I just never got around to throwing them out,” Nolan admitted.
“Ewww,” Lucy said again. She closed the door. “Tomorrow.”
“I promise.”
*
Later, stretched out next to Lucy on the little futon bed, Nolan said, “I’ve decided I really do want you to meet John.”
“Oh good.”
“Without him and you, I don’t know if I would have gotten through this.”
Lucy took his hand in the dark and squeezed it. “I’m glad you’re finally feeling better.”
They were quiet for a time, and then Lucy asked, “Is he hot?”
“John? Yeah.”
“You got a thing for him?”
“He’s straight, Lucy.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Nolan hesitated. “If he was gay—or bi—I might make a play for him. Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“He’s kind of a player.” Nolan chuckled. “Not kind of. Totally. He’s commitment-phobic.”
“So he’s more my type than yours.”
“Exactly.”
“But you’re still friends with him.”
“I’m friends with you,” Nolan pointed out, “and you never met a zipper you didn’t want to open.”
She giggled in the dark. “Are you calling me a slut?”
“No, of course not. I just…he’s a lot like you. That way. It’s just sex to him.”
“A little casual sex would do you a world of good, Nolan.”
“Maybe so. And maybe a little romance would do you a world of good.”
“Me? Romance? I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
Lucy was quiet for a moment. “You know why.”
Nolan did. Her first relationship, back when they were in high school, had ended spectacularly badly and scared her deeply. She’d never gotten over it. Sex was good, in Lucy’s book. Relationships were bad.
He wondered, not for the first time, what pain in John’s past left him hopping from bed to bed.
“You’re pissed,” he observed, “because I have six-month-old shrimp in my freezer, and you’re still hung up on something that happened years and years ago.”
“Yeah, well. You’re braver than me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Nolan rolled closer to kiss her forehead. “I hope someday you meet the guy that convinces you that you are.”
“Or girl,” Lucy corrected gently.
“Or girl. And someday maybe I’ll meet another guy. But for right now, it’s enough that I can commit to buying a new TV set.”
“Yeah.” Lucy snuggled closer.
They were quiet again, and Nolan thought she was asleep when Lucy spoke up. “So, can I jump him?”
“Who?”
“Your partner.”
“Oh.” He considered for a split instant. If he asked her not to, she would do it—or rather, not do it—without question. “Yeah, sure. It’d probably do him good. He’s in a little slump.”
“You sure?” Lucy insisted.
Nolan shrugged in the dark. “If you meet him and you hit it off, go for it.”
“You’re sure?” she asked again.
“I’m sure, Lucy. I mean, I don’t want all the details. I do have to work with the man every day. But as a concept, it’s fine with me. Really.”
She nodded. “Eh, I’ll probably think he’s a wanker anyhow.”
“Maybe so. Get some sleep, Lucy.”
“Night, Nolan.”
He felt her body relax as she drifted toward sleep almost right away. But he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling Lucy’s warmth beside him. He wondered if he should change his answer. She would understand. And maybe she was right, anyhow. Maybe she and John wouldn’t get along at all.
He was kidding himself. They’d be all over each other.
He wanted that, he realized in surprise. They were his two best friends in the world. If he couldn’t be making love to either of them, then they should be making love to each other. It only made sense. John would be happy. Lucy would be happy. And he would be…
His heart was broken, still, and it would be a long time before he would be happy again. If he ever was. But he could still enjoy their happiness.
He’d given Lucy the right answer, and he wasn’t going to change it.
Chapter Four
Crane’s cell phone rang while they were restocking from a run from the skate park—broken arm, broken leg, boy’s helmet had probably prevented a fractured skull. He went down the hall to talk, returned looking a little worried. “Hey, John, I need a favor.”
“Anything,” John answered at once, and then amended, “as long as it doesn’t involve manual labor.”
“I need you to take Lucy out to dinner tonight.”
“Who? What?”
“Lucy. My old girlfriend.”
“Oh yeah, the one who made you gay.”
Nolan rolled his eyes. “I promised I’d take her to dinner. But the chief managed to crash the station’s computer again and he wants me to look at it.”
“Tell him to fix it himself. Or call tech support.”
“Yeah, right.” Nolan tipped his head impatiently. They both knew what would happen if Chief Waldron tried to fix the computer on his own. He was only slightly worse with technology than John himself.
The computer at the firehouse wasn’t critical equipment—it wasn’t the dispatch computer that had the problems. It was the one in the dorm that the firemen used for personal surfing, which usually meant porn surfing. They caught viruses on a sadly regular basis. And though they wouldn’t let him be a member of their team because he was gay, they were all too quick to summon Nolan Crane to fix their mistakes.
Nolan, John knew, couldn’t tell them no, any more than he could tell John no when he’d brought his laptop to him with an alarmingly blank blue screen. It wasn’t in his nature.
But. “I, uh, I ha
ve plans,” he lied.
“You do not,” Nolan said firmly. “Look, just meet her at Chelsea’s. If it’s something quick on the computer, I’ll meet you two there. If not, just feed her dinner, maybe take her dancing.”
“I’m not taking her dancing. I’m not taking her to dinner.”
“John, please.” Nolan reached for his wallet.
“Not even if you’re paying.”
Nolan looked exasperated. He flipped the wallet open and held out a picture in a plastic sleeve. “This is Lucy.”
“I’m not…” John paused and reached for the wallet for a closer look. He rubbed his chin, wondering if he should shave again before he met her. “All right,” he agreed, with token reluctance. “If it’s that important to you. But just dinner. I’m not buying her flowers or anything.”
Nolan grinned. “Thanks, John.”
John studied the picture again. “But not Chelsea’s. The Lighthouse.”
“Whoa.”
“Hey, for a friend of yours, partner, nothing is too good. Especially when you’re buying.” He held his hand out, palm up.
Nolan barely hesitated before he pulled out his Amex card and put it in John’s hand. “Try not to burn it up, okay?” he pleaded.
“No promises.” John grinned. “And you still owe me.”
An odd smile crossed his partner’s face. “You’re right, I do. But not for long.” He picked up the supply box and started down the hall.
“Hey,” John called after him, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
There was no answer. Krulak rubbed his chin again. Definitely a shave after work.
*
He was checking out the woman even before he realized she was the one in the picture. She wore a t-shirt-knit dress, red, just a bit tight over her nicely proportioned curves, and flat sandals, no nylons. She didn’t need them over her perfectly tanned legs. To John’s practiced eye, the tan was natural, not spray-on; it matched her arms and face. Invitation to skin cancer, his medical mind knew, but the rest of him just admired the way it looked on her. She had a dark complexion naturally, long black hair soft around her shoulders, beautiful dark eyes. Her mouth was small, but her lips were full and red, like a Kewpie doll.
He’d finished his physical assessment of her in the time it took her to pause in the doorway and look around. She seemed a little lost. John left his drink on the bar and went to greet her. “Lucy?”