A Full Plate

by Kim Fielding

  “You brought them here?” Sage demanded.

  “He’s a reporter. I thought maybe Dolly’s could get some publicity. But why are you—”

  “Switched shifts with Gabriel, just for today.”

  “Why?”

  Sage gazed up at the ceiling and then at a shelf of foam takeout boxes. He sighed. “Because in a little bit, I’m going down to Eugene to look at a couple apartments for rent.”

  Panic, sharp and painful as stepping on glass. “You’re not moving for two months!”

  “I know. But the rental market’s tight right before school starts. It’s bad enough Kayley’s college roomie is her old man—at least I can get her a decent place to live. Besides, I’ve also got a job interview this evening with a chef. It looks like a pretty nice restaurant.”

  Act like an adult, dammit. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want to… freak you out.”

  “I’m not freaking out.”

  Smiling sadly, Sage stroked Tully’s cheek with a thumb. “You look like you’re going to cry, babe.”

  “I would have let you take my car. Save some miles on Old Bessie.”

  Sage briefly closed his eyes. “Shit. There’s no way this isn’t gonna hurt like a sonofabitch, is there?” His eyes glistened. “It’s gonna be like when I lost Dad. When I lost the Station.”

  “I could… I could commute from Eugene.” They’d been through this many times before, but Tully couldn’t stop himself from trying again. Like beating his head against a brick wall to see if maybe it wouldn’t hurt this time.

  “You’re going to drive over two hundred miles a day? With your work schedule?”

  “I could if I had one of Eddy’s Jetsons cars.”

  “Yeah, sure. And then what happens after Kayley graduates and I return to Hair Shaker? You’re sure as hell not making that commute.”

  Tully shook his head. Then he pulled the car key out of his pocket. “Take the Tesla to Eugene. I can walk home. Those apartment managers will be a lot more impressed if you pull up in my car.”

  After a moment Sage nodded and took the key. “All right. I’m not done here until two, though. Let me make sure your reporter gets fed well.”

  “Not Eddy?”

  “He’ll be lucky if I don’t spit in his soup.”

  They walked back to the table together, Tully hoping neither of them looked too wrecked. Sage even managed to smile at Paul. “Want some suggestions?” he offered.

  Paul looked as if he’d be eager for any sort of suggestion from Sage. He was a half step away from batting his eyelashes and smoothing back his hair. “I’d love some.”

  “We’ve got a burger with bacon and mac and cheese on it. If you don’t care about your arteries, it’s good. The chef’s salad’s real nice today. Everything fresh this morning from the farmer’s market, and I make the dressings from scratch. Or if you want to experiment a little, the chef let me try something new today. It’s a Hungarian noodle dish. Also not exactly low cholesterol.”

  “I’ll try the noodles,” Paul said eagerly.

  Tully said, “Me too.”

  Then Sage had to acknowledge Eddy’s presence. Eddy smiled beatifically at him. “Me three.”

  As soon as Sage was gone, Paul turned to Tully. “Wow. He’s that good-looking and he cooks?”

  “His food is scrumptious.”

  “It is,” Eddy intervened. “I had some when Tully invited me for Thanksgiving. Delicious. I’ve been urging Sage to open his own catering business.”

  That was a gross exaggeration, but Tully didn’t bother to correct him. What would be the point? Eddy lived in an alternate universe where the truth was slightly skewed in his favor.

  “I definitely think the article should mention that your attorney is gay,” Paul said to Eddy. “It adds a nice touch.”

  “I make the effort to ensure that all my business endeavors are inclusive. And not just of LGBTQIA people. My employees encompass a huge variety of races, ethnicities, and beliefs. I’m committed to providing a workplace for people with disabilities as well, and to encouraging elders to participate in the workforce.”

  Tully was going to puke.

  But Paul took notes while Eddy held forth on some of the technical advancements he was planning in order to accommodate different disabilities within the new factory.

  The waiter brought their food. “Sorry,” he said to Tully. “Sage is busy in the kitchen.”

  “No problem.” Honestly Tully was relieved to avoid another mini showdown between Sage and Eddy.

  The noodle dish was a casserole with cheese, sour cream, onion, and who knew what else. It was delicious of course, and Tully dug in with gusto. Paul ate enthusiastically too, although Eddy was too busy talking to have more than a few bites.

  “I haven’t told you yet about one of the most exciting developments for us,” Eddy said to Paul.

  “What’s that?”

  “Tully’s going to join us as chief legal counsel.”

  Paul might have made some appreciative noises, but Tully barely noticed. He was too busy gaping at Eddy’s bold-faced assertion. Finally he found his voice. “I haven’t decided—”

  “Yes, we’re still working out the details,” Eddie said, chuckling. “Which isn’t easy since Tully’s a shrewd negotiator. Heck, that’s one of the reasons I’m hiring him. He can also find his way around new legal arenas with the greatest of ease.”

  Tully felt sick. How could Eddy put him in this position? Jesus, how could Tully have even considered accepting an offer from this asshole? He should have hit him harder. And more often. He should have taken Sage’s advice and told Eddy to fuck himself. Tully was nearly overcome with anger and regret. His chest was tight, his skin felt hot and itchy, and he was going to barf.

  Although Sage was walking toward the table, Tully stood abruptly. “Need fresh air,” he muttered as he made a beeline for the door. He heard footsteps behind him—Sage following, he thought, and possibly Paul and Eddy. But nothing mattered to him at the moment except getting some oxygen into his lungs.

  He made it outside and leaned against the building, panting. Eddy pushed close. “Tully? What the hell’s the—”

  Tully vomited. Spectacularly. All over Eddy’s expensive suit and thousand-dollar shoes. Which ordinarily would have made Tully happy, except right now he felt like he was dying.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Heedless of the existing vomit—and the risk of more—Sage grasped Tully’s shoulders and leaned in close. “Jesus, your face is swollen!”

  Although his tongue felt far too big for his mouth, Tully struggled to speak. “What was in those noodles?”

  “I…. Um, egg noodles, butter, chicken broth, pop— Oh God!” All the color drained from his face. “Poppy seeds,” he croaked.

  Tully slid down the building and landed on his ass. “EpiPen,” he gasped. “Glove box.” He pointed in what he hoped was the direction of his car.

  Sage turned to Eddy and screamed, “Call 9-1-1!” before taking off at a run.

  Everything around Tully was swirly and strange—objects stretched or compressed beyond recognition, and voices became grotesque. Every breath was a monumental struggle. It was like drowning, with no dry land in sight. But Tully recognized Sage when he returned, eyes wide with shock, and Tully tried to smile encouragingly.

  “Thigh,” he said. Or hoped he said. Maybe he just thought it.

  The world went gray, as if someone controlled a gigantic dimmer switch. If Tully could have taken in enough oxygen, he might have laughed at the absurdity. Something sharp pricked his upper leg, but his limbs felt a million miles away.

  Then the lights went out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  TULLY wasn’t sure whether the doctor disapproved of lawyers, people who ate food they were allergic to, or patients who wanted out of the hospital stat. Whatever her motive, she scowled at him as he sat on the edge of the exam table.

  “You could have another anaphyl
actic reaction, you know. You’re not safe until twelve hours have passed since the initial reaction.”

  “I have another EpiPen, and I’ll keep 9-1-1 on speed dial. Besides, I don’t think I have any poppy seeds left in my system.” Most of them had been discharged—somewhat worse for wear—all over Eddy’s clothing.

  Still frowning, she listened to his heart and lungs. Again. She peered into his eyes and made him stick out his tongue and say “ah.” Then she crossed her arms. “Fine. You’ll have to sign some papers, and then we’ll let your boyfriend take you home.”

  “Sage is here?”

  The hint of a smile teased the corners of her mouth. “He’s been wearing a track in the waiting room. And also threatening huge lawsuits if we don’t get you patched up properly. He’s not a lawyer too, is he?”

  “He’s a cook.”

  “Good. The world needs more cooks and fewer lawyers.”

  Tully agreed.

  Not too much later, Sage burst through the door, rushed to Tully’s side—and came to a screeching halt. “Oh God.” He was wringing some fabric in his hands.

  “I’m fine. Thanks to you. You probably saved my life.”

  “I poisoned you!”

  Sage looked as if he were about to collapse, and Tully reached for him. “Come here.”

  Squishing the fabric between them, they shared a bone-crushing embrace. Tully again found it hard to draw a breath, but this time he was glad of it.

  “I almost killed you,” Sage said when they moved slightly apart.

  “Nobody but me is responsible for policing my poppy seed intake. And you saved me. You got the epinephrine into me exactly like you were supposed to.” Tully shook his head. “I should have realized sooner what was going on.”

  Sage set the fabric on the exam table—it was a T-shirt—and captured Tully’s face in his palms. “You almost died. I almost lost—” His voice broke and he leaned his head into Tully’s shoulder.

  Maybe it was whatever drugs remained in his bloodstream. Maybe the sterility of the room helped set his head straight. Or maybe it was a side effect of a near-death experience—a side effect so wondrous he regretted he hadn’t almost-died months ago. Whatever the cause, Tully knew with absolute clarity what he wanted and what he was going to do. And that knowledge made his heart feel as light as a balloon.

  “What happened to Eddy and Paul?” he asked.

  Sage shook against him, this time with laughter. “Paul fainted and hit his head on the sidewalk when I poked you with the injector. They had to bring an extra ambulance for him. But he’s fine. Last I saw, he was drooling over a hot EMT. Harrington just looked like he was going to cry.”

  That last bit was more satisfying than it ought to have been.

  Tully always felt confident when doing legal work. He’d submit a brief or write a contract with all the self-assurance in the world, with absolute knowledge that he was doing the right thing. He’d never felt that way in his personal life, though. Until now.

  “I have this fantasy,” he began.

  “We’re in an emergency room and you almost died. Can it wait until we get home? We can play doctor then.”

  “Different kind of fantasy. I think I’ve mentioned it to you before. Tropical island?”

  “Right.” Sage took a step back and gave him an assessing look. Tully wondered whether Sage saw him as completely compos mentis.

  “It’s a nice fantasy. But when you really think about it, the reality’s not so great. Sunburn. Hurricanes. Overpriced mai tais. And the essence of it—the peace—well, I don’t need to go to an island for that. I can find it much nearer. Like in a little town called Hair Shaker, for instance.”

  Sage was almost as pale as he’d been on the sidewalk outside of Dolly’s. “What are you saying?” he croaked.

  With more enthusiasm than grace, Tully slid off the table and onto one knee. “I, uh, don’t have a ring. I’ll get you one later. Sage Filling, will you marry me?”

  “I…. Jesus. You’re high on morphine or something.”

  Tully rose to his feet. “Nope. No painkillers for allergic reactions. And my mind is as clear as it’s ever been. I love you, Sage. Truly. Deeply. With all my heart. Do you love me back?”

  Sage answered in a whisper. “Yeah.”

  “Then the answer’s easy. I should have seen it long ago. We get married. We move to Hair Shaker. You reopen the Filling Station. Kayley gets to live in a dorm instead of with her father. And I’m not some sugar daddy and you’re not a charity case. I’m your husband! And I’m Kayley’s— God, I’m her stepfather, I guess. Your mom can get that knee surgery and the two of us will be there to help out while she heals. I’ll support all of us for a while because I can afford it. Eventually you’ll get the Station running and successful; then you can be the breadwinner if you want.”

  “But you’d have to leave the city. Live in the middle of nowhere.”

  Tully grabbed Sage’s shoulders. “I could live in a tent in a sheep pasture. As long as you’re there with me, I’ll be happier than in any penthouse or mansion.”

  After a moment standing stock-still, Sage smiled, his face filled with soft wonder. “This is what you really want.”

  “To the depths of my soul.”

  They kissed. Tully’s mouth must have tasted awful, but Sage didn’t seem to care. They clung to each other and kissed some more, and if one or both of them shed a few tears, well, it was totally forgivable. For the first time, everything in Tully felt right—felt perfect—from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Sage belonged to Tully and, even more importantly, Tully belonged to him.

  A loud throat clearing interrupted them. “Gentlemen?” When they separated, the doctor had her eyebrows raised. “Happy to be alive?”

  “He just proposed to me,” said Sage.

  “In the ER. Wow, I always knew lawyers were romantics, but I guess I underestimated them.”

  “Don’t ever underestimate my fiancé. He’s… something else.”

  “Well, lucky for both of you, he’s got a strong heart. Take care of it. You can start by taking him home and making him some food. Minus the poppy seeds.”

  The T-shirt turned out to be a spare Sage kept at work. He gave it to Tully, whose Armani button-down now lay in a hospital garbage bin. No great loss. As far as Tully was concerned, there was only one more time in the foreseeable future in which he’d wear a dress shirt—to his wedding.

  Hand in hand, they walked out of the room and through the lobby, toward their waiting car.

  “I need to call Mom,” Sage said. “She’s gonna be beyond thrilled. And Kayley is going to scream—I guarantee it.”

  “We have to tell Carrie right away too. Do you think she’d be my best, uh, woman?”

  Sage stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “I love you, Bradford Tolliver. Welcome to the family. Now let’s go home and eat.”

  Epilogue

  “WHAT do you think, Tooth? Impressive enough?”

  From his bed in the corner of the large room, Tooth thumped his tail. Tully took that as a sign of approval and stopped trying to straighten the framed diploma. Nothing hung evenly on these old walls, seeing as the walls themselves weren’t straight. But then neither was he, so that was all right.

  It looked like a genuine law office now, he thought. A big wooden desk and several matching file cabinets. A couple of Persian rugs on the ancient wood floors. A collection of modern office equipment—computers, printer, and the like—that somehow didn’t clash with the antique furniture. His beloved espresso machine on a little table in the corner. Several comfortable chairs for clients. And on the bare brick walls, his university and law-school diplomas, plus a few framed photos of central Oregon landscapes.

  His office also boasted a second desk, one he’d intended for a secretary or legal assistant. Originally Kayley had planned to work for him over the summer, but then she’d received an internship at a marine science center—apparently quite a coup for a kid who’d
so far completed only one year of college. Tully and Sage were very proud. But it left Tully without an assistant. He felt an urgent need to find one, because Carrie’s mother kept threatening to come in and take over the job. The very idea made him shudder.

  Bright summer sun poured through his office’s front windows, casting a shadow of the painted letters onto the floor: Bradford Filling, Attorney-at-Law. As if everyone in Hair Shaker didn’t already know he was the town’s only lawyer—and that they should call him Tully.

  He stepped back from the wall, and Tooth looked at him hopefully. “Nope,” Tully said. “Too early. He’s still working.”

  But then Sage proved him a liar by walking through the front door. He carried two covered plates.

  “I get delivery service?” Tully asked.

  “One-time deal. Don’t get spoiled. And I’m expecting a generous tip.” Sage leered as he set the plates on the round conference table at one side of the office. Tooth, who knew which side his bread was buttered on, heaved himself out of the bed, hurried across the floor, and collapsed expectantly next to the table.

  After grabbing bottles of water from the minifridge, Tully sat opposite Sage. “I was going to come over for lunch.”

  “Mom and the boys have things under control. I wanted a few minutes of quiet with you.”

  “There are advantages of opening shop next door to the Filling Station.”

  “And I have my own pet lawyer close at hand. Just in case there’s a legal emergency of some kind.”

  “You never know,” Tully said, smiling. “The chef could nearly kill someone with poppy seeds, for instance.”

  “Well, then we’d need a useful professional, like a doctor or nurse. Not an ambulance chaser.”

  God, Tully loved him.

  They removed the covers from the dishes and dug into the meal—a warm salad made of grains, vegetables, and steak. Delicious, of course. Sage served simple foods like this for lunch, fulfilling the locals’ demands for sandwiches, burgers, and casseroles while still playing around with new ingredients and flavors. But he saved his more daring dishes for dinner, for the gourmets who drove in from Portland and even from Seattle to sample one of Oregon’s hottest new restaurants. New old restaurant, really.