by Mike Shade
"Sounds pretty all-encompassing. Is there someone around to help with the work? A Mrs. York?" Oh, yeah. Subtlety, thy middle name is not Josh.
Jason chuckled, hand sliding up along the edge of the woodwork around the window seat. "Violet's the closest thing to a Mrs. York there ever will be. Aside from Mother of course."
"Does she live here with you?" No wonder there wasn't a missus, the way those hands caressed the house, made love to it.
"Mother?" Jason shuddered, just a little. "Oh, no. We don't hate each other or anything, but I'm afraid I'm a bit of a disappointment to her -- it isn't easy to keep up with the Joneses when all you've got to show for it is a gay son who hasn't even managed to bring home a permanent lover."
He blinked for a second and then grinned. "Are you trying to tell me multiple bedrooms and a greenhouse don't make up for grandchildren?"
Okay, so maybe he hadn't imagined that checking him out part earlier.
"No, apparently they only exacerbate matters." Jason spread his hands to indicate the whole house. "All this room and no grandchildren to fill it up."
Jason shrugged and moved over to the chair behind the desk. "Well, you aren't here to listen to me complain, you're here for Violet."
"Well, I'm here to hear what you've done, why you've made the choice you did, and to get the history of the house as you understand it. I've done a bit of research on the house myself, but I imagine you've got a bit more information than I do." He pulled out his pen and opened his notebook, one leg curling up beneath him, bright red curls tucked behind one ear.
"Why don't I take you on a tour -- let you know what needed doing." Jason stood. "Violet's beautiful and she deserves to have her petticoats lifted and shown off, so to speak."
Josh shut his notebook with a nod and a giggle. "So long as you're not a jealous lover and don't mind me peeking, so to speak."
Jason stared at him for a moment and then chuckled. "It's been my experience that other men are the ones who are jealous. Of her."
As he stood, Jason put an arm on his shoulder, guiding him. "It's been a long time since anyone's loved her like I do. She'll know if you're just making it up, Joshua."
"I know."
He didn't know how he knew, didn't really even care how he knew, but he did. He knew.
***
Oh, the house was fucking perfect -- a true showcase. Josh was in love -- the woodwork, the flooring, the wall coverings -- all period and perfectly maintained. The stained glass in the ballroom was breathtaking, the chandelier in the formal dining room would give Nan spasms and the size of the claw-footed tub was decadent.
It was a fucking museum and an incredible labor of love.
"No wonder you're so proud of Violet House, Jason. She's beautiful." They were standing at the second story landing, looking at a charming little guest bedroom and Jason looked like he was about to head downstairs. "Are we not going to see the Tower Room?"
Jason frowned. "I don't usually take guests up there."
"Oh. No sweat, man. I just figured it was a cool room -- one of the defining features, you know?" He didn't mean to push, but he was curious and, as hard as it had been to organize this, he might not have a chance to come back.
"It is. It just... I..." Jason was looking up the stairs, finger caressing the banister. No, fingers making love to the banister, there was no other way to describe it.
Jason sighed and gave him a long, considering look. "All right, you can come up."
"I appreciate it, honest." As Jason headed up the stairs, Josh couldn't help but reach out, stroke the banister for himself, feel the heat there.
Jason stroked the banister all the way up, gave the door and its handle the same treatment before slowly opening it and stepping inside. He could have been imagining it, but Joshua thought he heard Jason give a soft, shuddering sigh.
He walked into the room, all decorated in blues with a gigantic circular bed in the center. Josh kept thinking he should be fascinated by it, but his feet took him right to the window with the window seat, looking out into the yard. Goose pimples raised up all along his arms.
"Don't." Jason's voice was sharp, the hand on this shoulder less than gentle as he was pulled away.
Jason was frowning again, hands fixing the window seat treatments until they were just so. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
"I'm sorry." He shook his head, feeling just a little sick. "I... I didn't mean to upset you." As he backed away, his fingers brushed the top of an old steamer trunk, startling him badly. What the fuck was up? Why was he wigging out?
The sun had come out, shinning through the windows. Jason was staring at him, the look on his face wistful, surprised, sad, hungry.
"Are you okay? I mean, I didn't mean to hurt anything I just... I wanted to look out. To see. I didn't hurt the draperies." There were bookshelves up here and a roll top desk. Very masculine, fascinating.
He'd assumed that Jason didn't take people up here because it was where the man lived, but, even though things were obviously well cared for, the room didn't feel lived in.
"You remind me ..." Jason shook his head and turned to look out the window.
"I miss you, Samuel." The words were so quietly spoken, Joshua wasn't sure he'd really even heard them. He wasn't sure Jason even knew he was still there.
A series of shivers rocked him and he knew, he knew he was going to be sick. There was something about this room that made him ache, made him feel cold and dizzy and strange. "I should go."
He murmured a quick thank you and bounded down the stairs and out the front door. His hands shook as he got Bessie started and headed down the street, driving until his head cleared and his stomach settled.
It wasn't until he was sitting at a little cafe, drinking coffee and shivering and trying to convince himself that there was something in the air in that room that made people weird, that he realized he'd left his notebook in the house. His notebook with all his notes and outlines and everything.
Shit.
***
It took him two days of parking Bessie and sleeping in rest stops to gather the courage to call Mr. York back and apologize. It was getting colder and it was about time to migrate back down south. Maybe even spend a month or two at Nan's.
He found a quiet payphone and dug out the number, bouncing on the balls of his feet, nervous as hell. When the distinctive low voice answered, Josh took a deep breath and dived in. "Mr. York? This is Joshan Radley. I... um... I'm real sorry about leaving so quick the other day. I got sick and all and sorta didn't want to hurl on your period carpets and I know you didn't want to be bothered and stuff but I left my notebook in your house and I really, really need it."
"I was wondering when you were going to call." Jason cleared his throat. "I found the notebook. Reminds me of the one I used to keep when I first started re-modeling the old girl." There was a pause. "I quite enjoyed your company -- it's been a long time since anyone but myself has admired Violet as she deserves. Perhaps..."
The next pause was even longer. "You may come for dinner tonight and pick up your notebook. If you want." The last was quickly added on, as if Jason had just realized how much of an order the invitation had sounded.
He waffled for a second -- but only a second, because he had exactly $59 dollars in his wallet and a meal was a meal was a meal. "Oh, okay. Thank you. I... I will. When?"
"I usually eat at 6:30. I know that's early for dinner around here, but I'm usually on my own."
"I can be there. Thank you. I... I'm sorry about before. I'm really not that big of a dork." Except in person or on the fucking phone, Josh.
The man on the other end of the line chuckled. "The Tower Room tends to have that kind of effect on people."
"Yeah. It was... fascinating." His voice trailed off, curious again about sitting in the window seat, looking out on the yard, watching the people living.
"If you're interested, ask me about it after I've had a few glasses of wine."
There wa
s an odd note in Jason's voice.
"Oh, okay. I'll do that" He didn't suppose it was the time to admit he wasn't even legal for drinking yet. "I'll see you at 6, then?"
He'd need to find a truck stop and get a shower and shave, pull out his black turtleneck and good slacks.
"I'm looking forward to it." And the funny thing was that Jason did sound like he was looking forward to it.
The funnier thing was, he was too.
Weird. Really fucking weird.
***
His hair was clean and tied back in a ponytail and he had his good turtleneck on. He'd considered stealing a bottle of wine, but decided Nan would be less than helpful if he ended up in jail and called from there.
Josh knocked, still bouncing, still nervous, hating his stupid old marching band shoes that were the closest to dress up that he had.
Jason opened the door, looking distracted. He was wearing black jeans and a blue t-shirt, hair mussed. The man smiled. "Joshua, come on in."
"Good evening. Thanks for inviting me for supper after I was such a goofball." He offered his hand, smiling nervously.
Jason took his hand and shook it solemnly before offering him a wink. "Us goofballs have to stick together."
He chuckled, feeling his cheeks heat. "Yeah? Cool."
God, the man was fine.
"Come on in. I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen? The dinning room turned out beautifully and has intimidated the hell out of me from the start."
"Oh, the kitchen's cool. There's just us, after all. Hell, we'd rattle in the dining room." He grinned over as they walked through the office. "This way we can just talk and stuff. What's for supper?"
Jason looked sheepish as hell. "I forgot you were coming until about a half hour ago -- the pizza should be here any minute."
Josh giggled. "I've been there, man. Believe me, I understand about improvisation."
Jason had stopped and was staring at him.
He stopped short, mouth snapping shut. What the fuck had he done this time? "You okay?"
Jason seemed to shake himself and he got a small, almost sad smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Your laugh just... reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Okay. No laughing. That was doable -- weird, but doable. The wind hit the windows, making them creak and he grabbed onto the topic. "Man, the weather's sure turning cold quick. Is it always like this?"
"Hit a bit early this year, but yeah, it usually gets pretty cold by the middle of the month and won't turn back until well into March. I really need to get Violet ready for the winter -- it seems to creep up on me every year and I'm scrambling. Hey, I don't suppose you'd like to stick around and give me a hand? I can pay the going rate."
Josh blinked. "I'm afraid the beach is calling me and Bessie to warmer climes."
Christ, he'd freeze to death before he got a first paycheck and he couldn't go without laughing for that long. Although, he bet the house would look beautiful... No. Bessie didn't do cold. She'd break down and then he'd be stuck.
Stuck near this really lovely fucking man who didn't like his laugh.
"Oh." Jason's face got red. "I didn't realize you were strai-- married. I didn't realize you were married."
Jason moved over to the cupboards and started to pull out plates. "I was going to offer you one of the children's rooms while you were here. I guess it isn't big enough for two though. Not that two young kids want to be stuck in an old Victorian for the winter with an old man."
"Whoa! Whoa! Slow down, Jason. Who the fuck said you were old? Hell, where did you get the idea I was straight? I mean, married?" He shook his head, utterly fucking confused.
"Well, had a girlfriend anyway -- you mentioned going somewhere warmer with Bessie? You could have brought her to dinner if you'd said something."
"Oh!" He giggled again, clapping his hand over his mouth as soon as he realized. "Sorry. Sorry. Bessie's parked out on the curb, she's my baby car."
Jason chuckled. "So you've got a sweet giggle, you're not married and," he got a sideways look, "not straight?"
He shook his head. "Not even a little bit."
"Cool." Jason went bright red. "I mean... ah hell, I'm probably old enough to be your father, Joshua, but you're good-looking, you're bright and you love my house, and it's probably just as well you're headed out of town or I'd be making a fool of myself."
"You're not that old, Jason, surely. Here, give me something to do. I can set the table." His cheeks were burning, and he casually tugged the band from his hair so that it covered his face.
God, was he getting propositioned? Really?
The plates were handed to him and Jason pulled out a couple of glasses and some cutlery.
"You remind me so much of someone I knew a long time ago. He was about your age then, maybe a little bit younger." Jason chuckled and muttered something that sounded like "well and a whole lot older, too."
"For the record, I'm 43. So no -- hardly ancient, but a lot older than a sweet young thing like you is looking for, I'm sure."
"I'm twenty. Well, I will be a week from Saturday and I haven't been looking, to be honest." He put the plates on the table. "I'm sort of living free, so to speak. Been traveling since I graduated from high school. Living in Bessie."
"Wow, that sounds quite adventurous." Jason handed him the glasses and the cutlery, hands warm.
"It's been interesting. Gets a little cold, a little lonely, but I've learned a lot, seen some cool places." He shivered, cock twitching at the touch. "Done a lot of writing."
"Are you cold? I can turn the heat up a bit or lend you a sweater?"
"No. No, I'm okay, thanks." He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Something walked over my grave, I guess."
"Maybe. Any ghosts Violet House boasted abandoned her awhile ago." That hint of sadness was back in Jason's eyes. Or maybe it was loneliness.
"There were ghosts here? Did you ever meet one?" He loved the idea of ghosts, the thought of living in a haunted space.
Jason went a little red again. "I did."
"Was it cool? Did you enjoy the experience?" They settled at the table, waiting on the pizza.
"It was the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me."
"Yeah? How cool." He shifted in the chair, shoes chafing. "Was he someone who lived here before?"
Jason nodded. "Son of the original owner who died of tuberculosis when he was about seventeen. Cute as anything -- the tower room was his." Jason became more animated as he spoke. "We didn't get along the best at first -- we both thought that Violet House belonged to ourselves. Things got better after we agreed to share."
Jason grinned and then those blue eyes were looking intensely at him again. "You remind me a lot of him. Though it's been... well twenty years since he went away."
"Yeah, you believed in him, huh? That's wicked cool. Why'd he leave?" Josh couldn't decide if Jason was nuts or just really, really lonely.
Jason went a bit red again and looked down at the table. "He never said, but I guess he didn't think I wanted to continue our..." Jason cleared his throat, "association." A wry smile appeared. "My family and friends thought I spent too much time in Violet House. Hell, they still do. But back then they tried to do something about it, made sure I got out more, met people and stuff."
"Association? You... you were really into that ghost, weren't you?" He shook his head. "Maybe they were right. I mean, ghosts aren't... real."
"Samuel felt pretty real to me..." Jason laughed suddenly. "Well now that you're convinced I'm completely nuts, are you still staying for supper?"
"Yeah, I like pizza and you seem like the harmless type of nuts." He winked over. Poor lonely man -- he couldn't for the life of him figure out why Jason hadn't been snapped up, eccentric or not.
"Well they haven't had me committed yet."
The doorknocker sounded and Jason got up. "There's our dinner. Why don't you grab some drinks out of the fridge? I'll have a beer, but there's juice and pop in th
ere if you don't want one, too."
"Thanks." He stood up and pulled a beer out for Jason, grabbing a soda for himself. Ghosts. Too cool. He stood at the back door, watching the dried grasses and the plants bobbing in the greenhouse.
Jason came back with a couple of boxes. "I'm sorry I didn't wait until you'd gotten here to find out what you liked, but I was starving and didn't want to wait. I've got a meat lovers and a vegetarian."
"Huh? Cool..." He turned back to the greenhouse with a frown. It seemed... off. "Love the greenhouse. Was it always facing the house like that?"
"No, it ran the other way, but it gets more sun like this in the winter, which means I can have fresh strawberries and tomatoes year 'round. I think it makes better use of the grounds as well."
Jason put down the pizza boxes on the table and came to stand behind him, arm pointing to the west. “The property originally extended down two houses, in fact the next one over was where the stables originally were, so it didn't really matter how much room the greenhouse took up, but with the smaller yard, it makes more sense like this."
"Oh, I see. It seemed different." He grinned over, enjoying the scent of male and soap. "I'll take a piece of each on the pizza, thanks."
"Different? I didn't realize they used to specify how to situate green houses. I take it the rest of the places you've looked at for your book had them perpendicular to the house?" Jason was opening the boxes, serving up the pizza.
"No." He shook his head. "You're the first greenhouse, actually. I guess... I must have seen a photograph of it before."
"Not of mine, I hope. I've guarded Violet's privacy rather jealously." Jason sat down and grabbed a slice of pizza. "Come on and dig in, it's not getting any warmer."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks." He sat down, scooping up a couple of slices and chowing down. "Oh, god, this is good. Thank you."
"It's just pizza." Jason gave him a wry smile. "I guess it's kind of hard to get them to deliver to a car. Are you sure you won't help me winterize the place? Sleep on a bed for awhile -- immerse yourself in the world you're going to write about." Jason winked at him. "Of course I ask after I've already exposed myself as a bit of a kook with a ghost fetish."