by BA Tortuga
The food came, and they dug in, sharing the dishes, and the conversation flowed. Art. Music. Life.
The good stuff.
19
Kris walked into Two Spirits, kind of expecting to be struck down by lightning when he did, like a manifestation of Josh’s anger. A panicky phone call from Danny had brought him down, because Josh was delivering a couple of paintings they’d had on permanent loan from an old buyer, and another artist wanted to pick up his check for a couple three pieces he’d sold in the last few weeks.
“Hey, boss.” Danny gave him a tentative grin. “At least for another couple weeks, huh?”
“Yeah. You know I’ll help you find someplace else, right?”
“Yeah.” That didn’t sound convincing at all. “Martin needs a check for $2,500, and if you want to take care of Shelly, she’ll need $410.”
“Yeah? Go Martin.” Josh must be generating some buzz. Figured it would happen now. Or maybe that was why it was happening. Going out of business sale, as it were.
“They all went to one buyer. Someone saw the big chicken and it was all over.”
“Damn. A whole house of Martin.” He shuddered, but headed to the office to write those checks. Kris wasn’t welcome and he knew it, so he’d do his thing and leave.
“Kris? Kris, hi!” Cypress No-Last-Name waved at him, smiled. Jesus.
Jesus.
The man looked like hammered shit—pale, with bags under his eyes big enough to pack for a ten-week vacation.
“Hey, Cypress. How’s it hanging?” Kris walked over to shake hands, still feeling guilty for the way he’d left Cypress’s place without thanking him for everything.
“I’m trying to figure out whether to put all the pottery together and all the paintings together or intersperse them.”
“Josh has a great eye for that,” Kris said. “I’m sure he’d help out.”
His eyes were caught by a canvas that he didn’t recognize. The colors were furious, wild, the hues swirling in circular patterns. Cy had to have done this one after he’d left. Or maybe it was old. Whatever. It was stunning.
“This one is amazing,” Kris added, waving at it with one hand.
“It is. Josh did it.” Cy went back to moving pottery pieces around. Just so nonchalant. Josh did it. Josh, who hadn’t painted in years, so far as he knew.
Kris stared at the painting, which took on a whole new set of meanings now. Then he shook off his stupor and went to grab Danny again. “Checks. Is Josh putting that piece up at the showing?”
“What?”
“The big canvas at the end there. Is Josh selling it?”
“Yeah. He’s got three he’s selling. The big one and the two smaller ones that go with.” Danny shook his head, gave Kris a real grin this time, one that went all the way to his eyes. “Did you know he could paint? I didn’t. I didn’t believe they were his.”
“He used to in college. Put them on reserve for me, but don’t tell him unless he tries to sell them. I’ll top the highest offer.” He had to have that painting.
“All of them?”
“Yes. I want them all.”
“You got it, boss.”
Cypress was wandering, talking to himself under his breath. He looked so different, tugging at his hair every so often, making one of the dreads stand up so that he looked like a desert prophet.
Something was horked there. “Cypress, man? You okay?”
“Loud.” Cypress glanced at him, eyes wide. “It’s so loud here.”
“Like in here?” There was music playing softly, but that was to hide the traffic noise.
“No, in Austin. No quiet. Buzzing.” Cy sighed. “I sound like a dick.”
“You sound like everyone else from the boonies that ends up here. I’ve been at the ranch, and it’s so nice and quiet out there.” He touched Cypress’s arm. “Has Josh taken you to the lake yet? Or maybe just up toward Belton?”
Cypress shook his head. “We’re running out of time, you know?”
“I do.” Kris bit his lip. “I’m sorry all this has kinda fucked you. I am.”
“I’m not the one who loses in this deal. Austin’s going to see my work.”
“And in just two days.” Josh came in, handed Cy a green smoothie thing. “Eat. You’re skinny. Boomer, come on and get some water. What are you doing here, Kris?”
“Boomer!” Kris knelt, letting the bloodhound bound over to him, scratching those ears. “Danny didn’t know how long you would be, and Martin was fussing.”
“Ah. Sorry, man! I was delivering flyers for the show and getting a couple of folks their artwork back.”
Boomer leaned into him, huge head on his shoulder.
Josh didn’t sound furious or even hurt. Maybe he’d decided the money was worth it.
Maybe he just didn’t give a shit anymore, and that stung deep. Kris took a breath and let it go. “No problem. Seriously.”
“Josh and I were exploring downtown, and he thought he saw you on a bicycle, and he said….”
Josh shot Cypress a look. “There was no way that’s what I saw.”
“Why not? I was out Saturday on my bike, actually. Then tapas.” He wanted to call it a date, but that would be a lie, and as petty as he could be, he tried to be honest.
“Ah. Well, then, it might have been you. Who knows?” Josh shrugged, the motion deceptively nonchalant, but Kris knew there was hurt there, the pain that was deep enough that it felt like part of Josh now. “I was just showing Cy around, showing off the live-music capital.”
“Cool. What was the best part, Cy?” Kris asked.
“The pho.”
Josh rolled his eyes dramatically and goosed Cy, making the man jump. “Go drink your smoothie, you ingrate.”
“Not B6?” Kris asked, watching Josh, eating up every moment he got to stand there and stare. Soon he wouldn’t have a reason to even see Josh.
“That’s what Josh had. He shared it with me. It was okay. Josh, do you want the pottery all together or spread out?”
“Let’s hang the paintings first and position the pottery in front of the hanging pieces. That will show them off.”
“Oh. Oh yes. Thank you.” Cy hurried off, calling for Danny while Boomer followed, barking happily.
“Did you write the checks already, or do you want me to do it? I checked with the bank, by the way, you don’t have to have me there to take me off the business account. I’m just a signer.” Josh wandered toward the back where his office was, the storage space. “I’ve almost cleaned out the storage area and the little kitchen area. Besides the check for Cypress and random bills, we should be basically done.”
“I gave them to Danny. I don’t mind you being on. Once the sale is done and we’re closed, I’ll set you up a personal account with your part.”
“Whatever floats your boat, man. I’m pretty sure you’d have to see me to do that.”
“Well, you’re the one who told me never to darken your door.”
“No, I said I wasn’t going to wait for you to figure out I’m worth loving. Totally different things. Of course, I also told you I’d burn the gallery down and that I was half owner, but I’ve come to understand that those things weren’t true, so….” Another of those shrugs, so practiced, so deliberate. “You coming to the opening? It should be packed. Everyone is curious about who’s buying you out.”
“I am.” Kris held back the words that tried to spew out, all the anger and hurt. He was really the bad guy here, and he knew it. He glanced at Cypress, who was deep in discussion with Danny, then met Josh’s golden brown eyes with his. “Love has never been the issue, Josh. Never. If you don’t believe anything else, believe that.”
“I’m not sure what to believe anymore, cowboy. All I know is that this”—at the word, Josh spread his arms open—“is over, and it’s sad because it was my dream and now I have to let it die.”
“I’m sorry.” Kris had never been more sorry, but that didn’t mean he would take it back. “This will gi
ve you room for a new dream. I’ll be at the showing. Friday at seven?” His hands hurt from clenching them, and his arms were beginning to shake.
“Yes, sir. It should be a grand farewell. Whatever doesn’t sell by next Wednesday will go over to Janey’s gallery. She likes Cy’s stuff.” Josh surprised him by going over, kissing him on the corner of the mouth, not lingering but not avoiding him either. “Go on, cowboy. You look uncomfortable as fuck. I never saw it before, how much you did all this to give me a real job. I do now. You’ll be free Thursday morning. Now shoo.”
“I—make sure you have those bacon-wrapped jalapenos at the opening.” Kris turned on his heel and left before he did anything really stupid.
Like take the kiss that he wanted more than anything.
20
The phone rang for the seventy-third time that day. Jesus, he only had a day and a half before the opening, and he was spending all his time on the phone. Cy had had a fucking hysterical crying fit, and Josh had sent Danny to take him home. Now, for the first time in weeks, he was all alone in what was only his gallery one more week, and his fucking phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
He grabbed it out of his pocket and answered it when he saw Zack’s name. “Hey, man. How’s life? I’m sorry I didn’t make tonight’s meeting, but I’ll be there next week.”
“Hey. Josh, I—have you got a minute?”
Josh frowned, eyebrows drawing together. “I have all the minutes you need, man. Always. You want me to meet you somewhere or just talk?”
“I—can you come? I know you’re busy and all.” Zack sounded so worried.
“I can. Now.” He grabbed his keys and hit the lock. “Where? Your place? Have you eaten yet?”
“I haven’t. Kerbey Lane, maybe? The one on 183?”
“Works for me.” He’d gone there with Kris a thousand times. They used to have business meetings there. Okay. Okay, stop it. This isn’t about you, shithead. This is about Zack. “Kerbey queso, man.”
“Baked potato omelet. I’ll see you in twenty, maybe.”
“I may be twenty-five, but I’ll be there.” He hopped in his car and pulled on his seat belt, cracking the window. Man, it was nice out there, even if it was humid. He headed for the highway, wondering what Zack was so freaked about.
He hated that. Zack was his fucking hero, down to the bone.
Kerbey Lane appeared on the side road about twenty-two minutes later, and Josh cursed when he overshot the exit, having to go down a ways to turn around.
“Jesus fucking Christ. They moved this bitch a million years ago, and I still miss it.”
Down he went on the other side of the frontage road, then back, finally catching the entry drive.
Zack was waiting in the huge parking lot, leaning against his Mustang. His shoulders stood up around his ears, and his face was like a thundercloud. Uh-oh. Josh knew he wasn’t in trouble, but something was definitely up with his usually Zen sponsor.
“Hey, buddy. You ready for melted cheese?” He wanted to give Zack a huge hug, but he wasn’t sure if the signals warranted it.
“I am.” Signals or no, Zack reached out one long arm and snagged him, taking a long hug.
“I got you.” It didn’t matter what or why. Zack had saved his life more times than Josh could count.
“Thanks, Josh. I—I’ll tell you everything, but I just needed that.”
“Come on. Coffee. Queso with guacamole. Potatoes in eggs.” And they could talk for however long Zack needed.
“Thanks.” Zack gave him a tired smile, and he realized those eyes were bloodshot, and the lines were carved deep around his mouth.
“Oh man. You could have called earlier. Anytime.”
They walked in, the little lobby area weirdly bright, the little alterno-kids pretending not to notice customers.
“I was at the hospital with Ray.”
Oh, fuck a duck. “Oh man. I’m sorry.” He gave Zack another quick hug. “What happened?”
“He overdosed. Pills and Jack Daniels.” The words came out flat, disbelieving.
“I….” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. He swallowed hard. What the fuck did you say to that?
“I spent the night and waited for his brother to get in from Oklahoma. Once Shay got in, they sent me home to get some rest.” Zack’s dark eyes met his, full of confusion. “I’m just shook, Josh. Shattered. He never even called me.”
“I don’t….”
“Table for two?” the little host asked.
“Yeah. Toward the corner, huh? Somewhere quietish?” Somewhere they could talk.
“You got it.” The guy led them to the back and gave them a table for two tucked by the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Please.” Zack tried a smile that fell flat.
“And water, please.” Josh sighed, then just went for the truth. “So, I don’t know which fucking tacky classless question to ask first. What happened? Is he going to make it? What can I do?”
“He’s okay, I guess. I mean, they’re keeping him mainly for his liver, which they’re worried took a beating.” Zack shrugged. “He was in and out most of the night. Jesus, Josh, I had no idea he was in crisis, even.”
Okay. Okay, don’t judge. Listen. Don’t judge. Listen. “I’m sorry, dude, that sucks. When did you find out?”
God, he just wanted to snarl, “He didn’t fucking call you, man.”
“His neighbor heard him fall, apparently. Called it in when he wouldn’t answer the door, and his dog was going nuts. I’m listed as his contact.”
“Do you need me to have someone go get the pup?” He could make that happen.
“Oh, crap. I—I guess someone needs to feed him and walk him and all. Shay will be staying there, but for now. Yeah, that would be a huge help.” Zack looked so lost.
“Okay. I can have Danny do it. Do you have a spare key?”
“I do. I have his neighbor’s number, so I’ll let him know someone is coming so he doesn’t call the cops.” Zack sighed. “Promise me, Josh. If you need me, you’ll call. No matter what.”
“Shit, man, I call you when I don’t need you. I call you to say hi. When I need you, I call. You’re my best fucking friend.”
He grabbed his phone and texted Danny, offering him a week’s salary for coming out to the restaurant, picking up the key, and dealing with the dog. Kris could pay the tab.
The hell yes b there asap came back immediately.
“Danny’s on his way.”
“Thanks, Josh. I really appreciate you meeting me.”
“You flew to Santa Fe for me, man.” That put him on the owing Zack front for years. Eons.
“You needed me.” Zack’s grin seemed more real now. “You’re my best friend too. Man, it’s too bad we can’t just get it on and be good with it.”
Yeah. Cypress had said the same damned thing.
“Obviously I need someone really bad for me to get off.” He could grin about it now, couldn’t he?
“You and me both.” They got their drinks and ordered—did it count as brunch?
He wanted to ask Zack a thousand questions, but he kept telling himself that wasn’t his job. His job was to sit there and listen.
Zack chuckled. “You’re vibrating.”
“I want to be what you need, you know? You’re so good at it. Knowing what I need. I mean, the right thing to say.”
“Josh, you’ve always had my back too.” Zack reached out to grab his hand. “I just don’t know what to say. Ray’s never had a slip, not once. He broke up with Renee about a month ago, but he seemed to be doing great.”
“That sucks. Have they been together long?” He wasn’t sure how he’d never met Ray, but Zack led his meetings, and Josh didn’t go to others. Hell, he’d had Zack there in Madrid, so he hadn’t had to find a local meeting.
“Two years.” Zack’s shoulders hunched up again. “He asked her to marry him, and she said no, so he broke it off.”
“Oh shit.” The queso came, and he pushed the bowl over. “Eat. It’l
l help.” He wasn’t sure how, but it would. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“It’s sort of like you two, huh, except you called me.”
“I guess? I mean, Kris would never ask that, never. He isn’t… can you imagine? Christ.” Stop it. This isn’t about you. Kris never once suggested that he wanted a real commitment. Hell, you aren’t even on the paperwork for the gallery.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Zack dug in, making happy noises. “Hungry.”
“You didn’t. Honest. I’m good.” He grabbed a chip and scooped up dip. “So what happens next? I mean, you said his brother was here?”
“Yeah. They don’t want him to be home alone to begin with, I guess. On watch. Then he has to start over.” Zack blinked. “God, he’s been sober twelve years.”
“Twelve….” No. No way it could still be so easy to slip so long into the program. God. God, that wasn’t fucking fair.
“I know. I don’t want to think about how easy it could be.” Zack grimaced before crunching through more chips. Josh got it. Chewing released tension.
“I admit, I want it to be easier. I want the ache to go away with time, but it hasn’t, really.”
“One day at a time, right?”
“You know it.” He’d punched Zack in the face about the eighth time Zack had said that to him. Now it just made him laugh.
“I don’t know if I can make Cy’s opening, man,” Zack said.
“Fuck, that’s the last thing on the list of shit you need to worry about.” He got some guacamole in the next bite and, oh God. So good. “Seriously. Cy is”—exhausted and wigged-out and going a little crazy—“totally going to understand.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I know it’s your last event. Now, that doesn’t mean you don’t call if all that wine gets tempting.” Zack gave him a hard look. “Got it?”
“You have my word. I will call. Hell, I might call just for a quick check-in, because I’m a pussy that way.”
“No, you’re not.” Zack actually teared up. “You just moved up from a tie to the very strongest person I know.”