William

by Anyta Sunday

  “’Dice, I need to know the truth. Were you ever jealous of Harriet?”

  Candice glared at Will over Sig’s shoulder as if he were responsible for whatever Sig was up to. He dropped his gaze to his phone with the picture of Harriet. Okay. So maybe he was a little responsible. Oops.

  “Were you?” Sig asked again, his voice low, demanding.

  A sigh left Candice’s lips and her shoulders sagged forward, her hair falling like a curtain over the side of her face. “Yes,” she squeaked. “I’m sorry, Sig. I—”

  Sig brushed her hair back behind her ear, and she looked up at him surprised and uncertain. She bit her bottom lip, and Sig set it free with his thumb as he cupped her cheek. “Good,” he said and kissed her.

  When he pulled back, Candice stared at him, startled. “What was that?”

  “That, ‘Dice,” Sig said, brushing his fingers through her hair, “was right.”

  15 Stones

  Since he’d taken the Commodore deathtrap that Sunday night, he’d heard from Heath via a handful of texts and two quick calls. Wednesday evening, I’m totally making this up to you, he’d said. Up being the operative word.

  Funny how that line kept him going, cheesy as it was.

  Wednesday morning, he woke to a sudden attack of nerves that sent him straight to the bathroom. By ten o’clock that morning, he’d showered twice, hoping the warm water would calm his nerves. Well, it didn’t, but he sure was clean.

  “Why’re you all jumpy?” Benny asked when he started as the guy came into the lounge.

  Will threw his head back against the couch. Really, he should be in the office, but who was he kidding, today he wasn’t concentrating on anything. Tomorrow he’d make up for it. “Date tonight.”

  Benny flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “A date has you in such a state—ohhh. Got it. James,” he yelled for his partner.

  James’s head popped around the corner, brushing his teeth.

  “We’re going out tonight.”

  “Itughsvingfholdy.” James held up his finger, raced back to the bathroom and came out again a minute later. “I thought we were saving for our holiday?”

  Benny jumped up from the sofa, padded over to James and kissed him. “What can I say? I want to spoil you now as well as then. Also”—he tiptoed and whispered in James’s ear.

  James glanced toward him. Three guesses what Benny was saying. “Gotcha. But we do this Cinderella style. I’m too old to stay up any later.”

  Now it was Will’s turn, he pointed two fingers like a gun. “Gotcha.”

  “Oh, and if you use the kitchen, please clean up after yourselves.”

  James frowned. “Even we haven’t used the kitchen.”

  “Gah.” Benny slapped James’s chest. “I meant for cooking! And we have, actually. Remember the Twix incident. . . .”

  James’s eyes glazed over, and he smiled. “Oh, yeah.” He raked Benny with his gaze and began to push him out of the lounge. “I love Twix.”

  Will took that as his cue to finally get out of the house and head to New World to pick up something for dinner. Which proved difficult, because he had no idea what they should have. And even less idea how to make it. Crackers and cheese seemed a safe bet. No cooking required.

  But then that didn’t show a lot of effort, so . . .

  He wandered through the aisles multiple times, chucking in anything that looked exotic and interesting—and that didn’t require being mushed all together. Indian sounded like a fine idea. The sauce, rice and naan could all be presented in their individual bowls. But wait—Indian before they . . . it’d fill them up too much and leave their breath not much to be desired. For that matter, garlic was out. Same with the onions.

  Damn. He was back to zilch in his basket.

  His cell buzzed. Heath.

  Hey you. I have a favor to ask . . . Mum really wants to see you.

  He stopped in the international aisle and replied.

  Sure. Now?

  He had the Commodore still, so he could be up there in less than fifteen minutes. The cell buzzed again.

  Thanx.

  He ditched his empty basket and made his way to the car. It rumbled to life, groaning and complaining the farther he drove. The funky sounds put Will on edge, and, like he was constantly doing in this car, he calmed himself by working through basic algebra equations.

  On the Hill, the lights turned red. Of freaking course. While he waited, he wiped his sweaty hands on the chair, and checked the rearview mirror. Could that dude get any closer up his backside. Jeesch.

  The lights turned green. He pulled off as slowly on the clutch as he could, letting down the handbrake—

  He jerked forward as the car stalled. Flustered, he tried again, but the beeping of waiting cars agitated him and he stalled again. Shit. He hated stick shifts. He hated hills. Why did Dunedin have to have so many. Damn, right now he wished a big-ass iron would come and flattened the city, just so he could drive.

  “Come on, Sally. Throw me a bone here.”

  Third try, he hit it lucky. And the next two lights he sailed through the amber—no way was he stopping again. At the Wallaces’, he parked and gave the driver door slam. At which, Heath came out of the house, one brow raised.

  Will threw him the keys. “You’re driving from now on until I buy us an automatic.”

  He charged up the path toward Heath, pausing half-way when he realized what he’d said. Buy us an automatic. Us?

  He groaned. There was his big mouth at work again. Sure, thinking on it, a shared car was exactly what he wanted—along with a shared everything else. But they had barely been going out a week and a half. A week and a half! He was bound to push Heath away saying stuff with undertones of commitment like that. Commitment they couldn’t have, anyway. He couldn’t forget he was only here until the end of the year.

  They had an expiration date.

  His spirits drooped along with his shoulders as he forced himself up the rest of the path.

  Heath grinned at him, stuffing the keys in his pocket. “I’ll keep Sally, thanks. If only to see you all in a huff like this again. You’re cute when you’re upset.”

  Even those sweet words couldn’t snap him out of the funk he found himself in. Heath braced a hand on his arm, pulling him back before he’d crossed the threshold inside.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  Will forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m . . . it’s good.”

  Heath brushed a stray hair off his face, much as Sig had to Candice yesterday—and that lifted him a little higher. “I don’t believe you.”

  He shrugged. “Guess I’m just nervous.” Nervous of loving you, and having my heart decimated again.

  A look of disbelief crossed Heath’s face. “Nervous? What, about tonight? You? You always seem pretty . . . confident.” A grin dimpled his cheek. “’Cept around Murky, of course.”

  “I’m getting better around him.” Sorta.

  Vicky’s voice tunneled down the hall. “William? Is that you I hear?”

  “Yes, Vicky. Just . . . chatting to Heath.”

  Her footsteps came toward them, and Heath didn’t bother shifting apart, even though their arms were touching. That was a good sign.

  “How are you?” he asked when Vicky filled the doorway, dressed in jeans and wearing beads in her ears to pick out the gold threads woven through her top. She met his gaze, her smile looking strained on her painted face.

  “Just glad you came. And hoping you’re up for a drive?”

  Will smiled. “So long as we’re not in the Commodore deathtrap.”

  “You’re no fun,” Heath said, shaking his head.

  Vicky slipped on some shoes by the door. “Let’s hear you talk about fun when you discover how much it’s going to cost to pass your warrant.”

  Heath’s smirk fell. Will clapped him on the shoulder and said to him. “I want to be there when that happens.”

  Vicky drove him to St Clair, the beach she’d taken him to once bef
ore when she’d tried and failed to tell him the truth. They walked across the sand, Vicky stopping every now and then to gather flat stones. Cool, salty breezes had him huddling into his pullover.

  They moved closer to the water and Vicky passed him some of her stones. He felt their smoothness against his palm as Vicky whipped a stone at the water, skimming it three times. “Lakes are better for this. The water’s calmer.” She threw another one, managing four bounces. “Heath taught me this.” She glanced at his hands. “Try it.”

  He tried. The stone plunked into the water with a splash. “Maybe I should get Heath to teach me as well.”

  She smiled. “He’s a good teacher. He’ll show you how it’s done.” Again she threw. “He’s starting back at university next semester.”

  “Yeah, he told me.”

  “It’s about time, too. He tends to put others before himself too much sometimes. God knows he does with me.” She dug her foot into the sand, twisting it. He could see just how hard this was for Vicky to say so he kept still, not looking directly at her. “It’s so easy to take advantage of too. I really love having him around. But . . . a few things need to change in my life—and one of them is Heath.” She looked at him. “I’m kicking him out of the hut. He’s only there for me and it’s not right. He should be out flatting again. Living his own life. What do you think of that?”

  He agreed with it. “Does he know this yet?”

  “No. And don’t tell him. I’ll break it to him at the weekend.”

  He bit the insides of his lips as if to seal them. He wasn’t the best at keeping secrets and he didn’t like the idea of keeping things from Heath particularly, but he could and would respect Vicky on this one. “Of course.”

  She nodded, rubbing her last stone between her fingers as if she could make it any smoother. “The reason I wanted to talk to you today . . . ” She frowned and threw the stone, staring at the course it jumped on the water. A chill breeze blew over them, and, with it, she spoke, words sharp as if trying hide the emotion behind them, but they just pierced further inside. “I never got to say goodbye.”

  She stared at her hands, twisting them together like she wasn’t sure what to do with them now all the stones were gone.

  “William?”

  He croaked out a “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for being there. For being here right now. I know you didn’t have to. It means a lot you are.”

  She moved away from the water and sat down at the base of a bank. He sat next to her, pressing his lips together to prevent himself from blurting out how sorry he was. Vicky hadn’t finished yet; he could see it in the way she threaded her fingers through the sand and grass, her mouth opening and closing, body hesitating with it.

  “William?” But this time she didn’t wait for him to respond. “You know you’re a beautiful person, don’t you?”

  She smiled and touched his cheek with sandy fingers. The glassy look in her eyes made him feel like she wasn’t really seeing him. Vicky might be talking with him, but really, she was talking to her son.

  “You have a vibrant energy around you, you make people happy. You always make me laugh. One of the best sounds in this world. I love how you hug me at the same time as telling me I suck when I clean that pigsty of a room of yours. I love how without asking you give me a back rub while asking about my day. When you ask what the best part of it was, I always want to answer it’s you and Heath. Always and every day. My beautiful sons make me the luckiest and happiest woman in the world.”

  Will sniffed, Vicky blurring behind his moist eyes. This was her son she loved so much, this was Heath’s brother that he loved so much, this was even Rory’s friend he loved so much. A son, brother, friend that had been taken from them without the chance of a good bye.

  “William?” Vicky’s voice broke on his name.

  “Yeah?”

  “Good bye, love.”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. Then slowly, she shut her eyes and twisted her face toward the ocean, vast and blue, wind rippling the surface. She let out a long sigh, and they sat there until the tide started coming in, and it grew so cold, hugging into his pullover wasn’t enough.

  Vicky rubbed her arms and got up. “Let’s head back now, Will.”

  * * *

  He kept quiet on the drive from the Wallace’s back to his place. Heath darted glances at him, thumbs hitting the steering wheel, and not in time to the music. This was nerves. Heath wanted to know what his mom had said to him.

  The car came to a stop, and only once he’d let them both inside did he find his voice. “I forgot to shop for dinner.”

  “Never mind dinner.” Heath pulled him onto the sofa. “What happened?”

  “I finally understood,” he said, curling into Heath’s side, staring at the pinky-orangey glow of the sunset filtering through the white drapes.

  “Understood?”

  He could feel just how tense Heath was right now. “Get on the floor.” He pointed to the base of the sofa and nudged him in the direction, throwing a cushion down for him to sit on. He threw his legs over either side of him and began rubbing the tension out of his shoulders.

  “I thought your mom thought of me as a replacement for your brother, somehow—”

  “This is what you talked about with her?”

  “Yes. What did you think we were talking about?”

  “About us. I told her this morning.”

  Will stopped mid-rub, hearing the smile in his voice as he said, “You did?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised. I said I would.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve heard that line before and it never happened.”

  Heath shook his head, taking one of his feet and caressing it. “No more lies between us anymore, remember? I’ll follow through with what I say.”

  He was very much a fan of that sentiment. But still, telling Vicky happened awfully fast. “Just three days ago, you said she’d need more time. What changed?”

  Heath rested his head back against Will’s stomach and looked up at him, blue eyes so light, he couldn’t help but think how fragile Heath seemed right now, tucked so close to him.

  “There may never be the perfect time,” Heath said. “I realized that this week watching Mum struggle to get her bearings again. And I just didn’t want to wait any longer. I’ve put so much to the side to help her these last couple of years, I didn’t want to do that with you, too. So I told her that I was happier than I have been in a long time.” He squeezed his big toe. Will wanted to savor the feeling forever. “And she sighed, scrubbed her tear-beaten face and said that was the best thing she’d heard in months. And when she asked why, I told her. Want to know what she said?”

  Will’s heart was doing triple somersaults listening to Heath’s words. He bent and kissed the back of his neck. “What?”

  Heath chuckled. “She said: Finally. Which was great.” Heath arched back for a quick upside down kiss. Then he lifted his head again. “I mean it was great, except, honestly, that sort of creeped me out for a second. Especially since she saw you as replacing my brother—”

  Will cut Heath off. “That’s what I thought at first, too. It made me uncomfortable. It’s why I had to leave—”

  “It’s why I wanted you never to live with us in the first place,” Heath said, his grip loosening on his foot. “I knew it was just a matter of time before everything would crash and burn.

  “—But that’s not what it was, Heath. Just like you said: no one could ever replace your brother.”

  Heath choked on his next words. “Then . . . why? Why did she need you there? Why did she see you as William?”

  Will pressed his forehead and against the back of Heath’s head and breathed in both his clean hair and his confusion.

  “Not as a replacement, Heath. She just wanted—needed—a chance to say good bye.” He kissed his hair and spoke softly. “You were all robbed of that. She saw me as a way of getting that back. That’s all she wanted. Just to say good bye. And today, she did
. She said her good bye to William.”

  He felt Heath shake under him and when he turned his face, tears spilled down his cheeks and over his nose. Will wiped them away, and Heath twisted around, grabbing him into a hug.

  “Who’d”—he stopped to take in a breath, calming himself from sobbing—“Who’d have thought this thing would crash and burn and you wouldn’t only survive it—you’d be the one to quench it, too?” Heath kissed him, his lips salty and gentle. “Thank you.”

  Heath stood them both up and crushed Will against him again. After a few minutes, they broke apart, Heath laughing at himself. “God, look at me. That can’t be pretty. Let me clean up and then we’ll figure out something for dinner.”

  “Pretty?” Will called as Heath headed toward the bathroom. “You couldn’t be pretty if you tried.” Hot and handsome as hell, yes. But definitely not pretty.

  “Just as well you’re pretty enough for the both of us then,” came Heath’s snarky reply.

  Will grinned and searched the kitchen for something they could make. Thankfully Benny liked to cook and cupboards were stocked with stuff. He pulled down some pasta. Stick it in boiling water—he couldn’t go wrong with that.

  Heath’s scuffling footsteps came up behind him. The pasta was plucked from his hand. “Yeeeah. Or we could just order in.”

  “Oh God I love you,” he said spinning around and grabbing the phone from the wall. Then he heard what he said. “Ah, not really.” Actually, yes really. He may as well admit it, but after that moment on the sofa, he was a gonner. “Figure of speech, that’s all.” Shut up now!

  He studied the numbers on the phone like they were the most fascinating buttons on earth. He was missing something. . . .

  “Need a number?” Heath said, laughing as he grabbed the phone book.

  That was it.

  “What do we feel like?” Heath asked. “Indian? Italian? Chinese?”

  “Nothing with garlic!”

  Heath blinked at him.