by Willa Okati
Wherever Brandon was, that was home. And Luke knew for sure that he’d never forget it again.
Epilogue
“Well, look who’s awake,” Brandon said as Luke entered their kitchen. Brandon greeted Luke with a kiss, a quick peck on the lips that melted into something softer and sweeter, their tongues dancing together first in one mouth, and then the other. When they parted, Luke felt his heart leap for glee when he saw that Brandon was smiling.
“I was playin’ the sleepyhead again, wasn’t I?” Luke asked, rubbing his head ruefully. He’d just now stumbled out of bed.
“And then some. It’s past eleven o’clock. I gave up and ate breakfast by myself, but you’ve only got a little while to wait for lunch.”
“Oh, man, you’re telling me you cooked and I missed it?” Luke grabbed Brandon by the waist and gave him as much of a spin as he could in the cramped space. “Don’t tell me what I lost out on. No, wait, I want to know. Waffles? Was it waffles?”
“You’ll never find out, but they were scrumptious.” Brandon’s eyes sparkled behind his glasses. He’d put on a T-shirt fresh from the laundry basket, smelling of fabric softener, and old jeans that molded to his long legs and the curve of his ass. “I’ll make them again when you get up at a proper hour on Monday.”
“Monday?”
“You’re going back to work in your home office,” Brandon chided. “You lost one idea, but you’ll come up with another. I have faith in you.”
“Babe, you have no idea how good it is to hear you say those words.”
Brandon’s gaze softened. “I think I do. And I’m glad to know you appreciate them.”
“More than you’ll ever know.”
“I wonder.” Brandon turned to brush his hand across the box of letters, still sitting on the table where they’d been left the night before. “If not for a happy chance…”
“Don’t even go there.” Luke held Brandon tighter. “We’re back to you and me again, you hear? No more worries or doubts or sleepless nights. We’re gonna make it, the both of us together.”
“I know we will.” Brandon kissed Luke this time, gentle, tasting of tea and sugar. He took his sweet time about the gesture of affection, drawing it out until the honk of a horn out in their front yard pulled them apart.
“Who is that?” Luke went to look out the front window, but Brandon beat him to it. “You move damn fast, you know that?”
“It’s Zillah and Marianne,” Brandon reported. “Lord help us, they brought the whole crowd. Slate and Ash are out there, as well as Ian and Andy. I’ll go and say hello. Would you turn down the heat on the stove? We’ll want to explain things to them before we eat.”
“You got it.” Luke flipped the switches one by one, inhaling the savory aromas of sautéing chicken, onions and peppers, plus some kind of garlic noodle dish that he never knew the name of, but loved as one of his all-time favorites. Homemade. Brandon really had been up a while. Luke knew his lover; he cooked when he was bored.
Out in the yard, he heard laughter and feminine squeals, then Zillah calling out for him. “I’ll be right there!” he yelled back, turning toward the table to fetch the box of letters to take out and show them. He wanted Zillah to see the proof with her own two eyes.
Reached for them…but they were gone.
Luke blinked. They’d been there just a minute ago—hadn’t they? And Brandon hadn’t taken them outside with him. He stole a peek to be sure, but no, Brandon’s arms were free and the box was nowhere to be seen.
“Huh.” Luke stared at the space where the box had been. The letter opener, the wood cleaner and cloth all still lay there, and he wasn’t waking up in New York. They had existed, he knew they had, even if only for a short while.
Somehow, he didn’t think he should waste his time looking for the letters. He had a feeling that they’d turn up some fifty or sixty years in the future, maybe not here, but somewhere else, saving another couple that was on the brink of losing one another forever.
Unable to help himself, Luke broke into a broad smile. Zillah would just have to take his word as truth, then. They’d all be doing a lot of taking things on trust in the near future.
And until then, he had lost time to catch up on, and friends he’d almost lost to get reacquainted with. “Don’t ya’ll be having too much fun without me,” he called, heading for the front door. “Luke is here to join the party!”
Out in the yard, his friends and lover welcomed him into a multi-armed hug, passing him from one person to another, to another.
Letters are funny things, you know? They turn up in the strangest places, and they can carry the oddest messages. In this day and age, what with e-mail and cell phones, we hardly ever think about the written word.
But sometimes, it’s the most important item we can ever lay our hands on.
About the Author
Willa Okati has a hundred and one different stories to tell, and she’s getting there one book at a time. Permanently glued to her computer chair in front of a laptop, she can be found pounding the keys from before dawn until after dusk.
She’s delighted to have found a home at Samhain, where she can write her Appalachian-with-a-twist paranormal stories. Coffee is her best friend and her lifesaver; cats are her muses; her bookshelves are groaning under the weight of a tremendous collection.
She loves to hear from readers, and can be contacted at [email protected] .
Drop her a line anytime!