Bowerbirds

by Ada Maria Soto

  The phone stopped ringing. James gave him another hug, then pulled away. “We should get breakfast in you.” James smiled, but it seemed hesitant.

  Shit, Gabe thought. He should have learned by now to be careful talking about work in front of any boyfriend. He pulled James back in close for a deep, hard kiss until he felt James begin to melt in his arms. Maybe he was up for another round after all.

  Gabe licked the last of the syrup from the french toast off his lips. It was his favorite “looks fancy but is actually really easy” breakfast recipe. James tipped his head back, draining his coffee, showing off his neck. Gabe licked his lips again. He was well past the age where he could go three rounds in one morning, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate what was in front of him. And he did love James in that blue robe. That shimmer of silk looked good against his skin, and it showed off his body in the most appealing manner.

  That thought caused a mental note to pop up in his head. He drained his own coffee and went rummaging through the “random stuff” drawer in his kitchen.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “This.” Gabe pulled out a long tape measure as well as a small notebook and pencil.

  “Okay? And what are you planning on measuring with that?”

  “You. For a tux.”

  “Um….”

  “I did say I’d arrange one. I mean, I could call my tailor and have him swing by with some fabric swatches and—”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine, whatever you pick,” James said quickly.

  “Great, stand up.”

  Gabe’s tailor would throw a fit, sewing up something for someone he’d never met, and probably double the price in punishment, but Gabe couldn’t tell James he was having one custom made. It was a balancing act. The boyfriend of the CFO could not show up to prom in a rented tux, but there was no way James’ pride would handle a custom-made one purchased for one event. Gabe hoped “what James didn’t know couldn’t hurt him” would stand up on this occasion.

  He’d been fitted for enough suits that he knew exactly how to take every measurement, including ones most people don’t think of, like waist-to-hips, and circumferences of wrists and ankles.

  “Is that really necessary?” James asked as Gabe measured his foot.

  “Want to make sure you don’t get shoes that are too tight. Nothing worse than dress shoes that don’t fit correctly.” He kissed the inside of James’ ankle.

  “Now, I’m pretty sure that’s not what usually happens when people get fitted for clothes.”

  Gabe put a kiss on the side of his knee before standing up.

  “Any other bit of me you need to measure?” James asked, a quirk in his lips.

  “Nope. And I’ll pick out something nice for you. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not. Besides, you’re the one who’s going to have to be seen in public with me.”

  Gabe pulled James into his arms. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” James shrugged, and in the other room, Gabe’s phone rang. He didn’t let go of James, though. “I was thinking, maybe the next time you come over, you can bring a spare shirt and leave it here.”

  “Why?” James looked genuinely confused.

  “Well, I keep sending you home in the same clothes I pick you up in. I thought you might want to leave a few things here—” James eyes went wide. Gabe recognized the start of one of James’ smaller panic episodes. “If you want,” he added quickly, hoping to calm James down. “I just thought it would be more convenient for you.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” James answered, even as he started to pull away. “It’s a good idea.”

  Gabe quietly kicked himself but was thankful he hadn’t jumped right into the “Why don’t you quit your crappy job and move in with me” pitch. Gabe’s phone rang again. He ignored it but also used it to change the topic.

  “I was also thinking if you don’t have to run home right away, I can ignore my phone for a bit more. We could take a drive up to Half Moon Bay. Dip our toes in the ocean. Take a hike. Get lunch?”

  “Can you afford to do that?”

  The phone had stopped ringing. Gabe thought, Can I afford not to?

  James stripped off his shoes and socks as soon as he came through his door. As much as he tried to brush the beach sand off his feet, some always managed to stick.

  “Hey, Dad. We’re in here,” Dylan called out from the kitchen. James wondered who the “we” was.

  In the kitchen a slightly frumpy brunette with glasses perched on the end of her nose sat across from Dylan. James was ashamed to admit that his first thought was that she didn’t seem like Dylan’s usual type, until he noticed the chemistry books and stacks of notes.

  “Dad, you remember Melinda.”

  “Of course. Hi.” James knew he’d always now remember Melinda as the girl Dylan got into a fight for.

  “Hello, Mr. Maron.” Melinda gave a painfully shy little smile.

  “How’s this all going?” James waved his hand over the pile of books.

  Dylan said, “Miserable,” at the same moment Melinda said, “Fine.”

  “Do you have any tricks for memorizing lists of ions?” Dylan asked.

  “My strongest memory of high school chemistry was the day I took notes in blue crayon because I couldn’t find a regular pen anywhere in my bag.”

  Dylan closed his eyes. “Okay.”

  James wished he could help, but he wasn’t kidding when he said that most of high school was little more than an exhausted blur. “Sorry. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and Grandma called. She wants us over for dinner tomorrow.”

  “Do I need to call her back?”

  “Nah.”

  “Okay. I’m going to do laundry. You two keep at it.”

  James wandered into his bedroom but bypassed the basket of dirty laundry that sat in the corner. He sat on his bed and listened to it squeak under him. He’d never really noticed it squeaking before. He stared at the laundry basket with a blue button-down shirt sitting on top. It was a work shirt but not one of his main ones. He figured it would be okay to leave it at Gabe’s place. When Gabe had mentioned it, he’d felt panic settle into his chest, though he couldn’t work out why. There was nothing wrong with Gabe suggesting he leave a spare shirt. It was perfectly practical, and he liked practical. It meant Gabe was serious. He liked serious. Gabe just wanted him to be comfortable. James ran his hands over his face. It was too much to think about. It was probably best to just keep taking the whole thing one step at a time, instead of letting his brain rush ahead. Gabe almost certainly had his brain fully on the Russians and Solar Flare, and he didn’t need James complicating things by reading too much into a practical little suggestion.

  He sighed, picked up the laundry basket, and decided to get to work.

  8

  Gabe unzipped the heavy suit bag that had been left for him at his building’s concierge desk. His tailor had thrown a very quiet and dignified fit when he’d handed over James’ measurements and informed him that he wasn’t actually going to get to adjust it with James in it.

  To appease him Gabe had taken a reasonable amount of time out of a particularly backed-up schedule to pick out styles, fabrics, and accessories. He’d decided on a slightly unusual silk/wool blend that looked like it would drape nicely on James’ frame, the silk giving depth to the black wool.

  He pulled the jacket from the bag and held it up. He couldn’t wait to see James in it. He couldn’t wait for other people to see James in it. The truth was, he’d never taken anyone to the TechPrim birthday party. He’d either been single or he’d been seeing flaky party boys that his employees did not need to be exposed to. James, however, was someone he wanted to introduce to his VPs and department heads. He wanted pictures of the two of them dressed up and looking happy together to appear in the weekend gossip roundup, instead of secret long-lens shots.

  Gabe took out his phone.

  How is your day going? Home yet?

&
nbsp; He hit send and opened one of the boxes that came with the suit bag. The fine linen shirt he had ordered was gleaming white and carefully starched. He’d thought about getting a colored one, but that was something that really needed to be tried on first.

  Gabe’s phone bleeped.

  Looking at rental tuxes with Dylan. He’s got prom in a couple of weeks. Feeling old.

  Gabe grinned.

  You are not old. Tell him to look for something in an English-style jacket. The last thing he needs is more padding on his shoulders. Also mid-sized lapels.

  Gabe had fairly broad shoulders himself and the continental-style jackets made him look like a linebacker. On Dylan they’d make him look like a brick wall, and Gabe had the feeling Catherine wouldn’t be into that.

  I think we’ll be taking what we can get.

  Gabe sighed and ran his hand against the elegant linen of the shirt James would be wearing in just a few days.

  Then recommend he stick with a classic look. Remind him his kids will be seeing the photos in twenty years and he doesn’t want to be too embarrassed by them.

  :-) I’ll be sure to pass that along.

  The little clock on the corner of James’ computer screen crawled toward the weekend. He drummed his fingers along the top of his mouse, staring at the numbers. While he couldn’t claim to love his job, he was usually pretty Zen about Friday afternoons. But then he usually didn’t have plans for the weekend that counted for much.

  He was supposed to be answering some e-mails, but the people who wanted replies had already left for the weekend, so there was not exactly a rush. He could put them off until Monday morning if he had to. He drummed his fingers some more and stared up at the pencils jammed into the ceiling over his head.

  After a considerable amount of teasing on Dylan’s part last night, James looked up pictures online from previous TechPrim proms. There were a bunch buried in the company website and others on various gossip blogs. There were lots of pictures of Gabe, Nate, and Frank in tuxedos looking quite good. Almost all of them had Gabe standing in between the other two. There were plenty of Nate and Margaret as well, plus Frank with a woman he didn’t recognize. It took an hour of procrastinating and digging deep into the net for James to realize that there were no pictures of Gabe with anyone he didn’t work with. Even reading through the three sentence write-ups, none even hinted about Gabe in a relationship.

  That realization sent some odd half-formed emotions swirling. More digging through old gossip pages had Gabe on the sidelines of Frank’s divorce and apparently a third marriage. Any reported romances were either with Tamyra or some other random woman he happened to be standing next to when whatever picture was taken.

  And now James was going to the TechPrim prom. A courier had dropped off a clothing bag for him that afternoon. He’d only peeked into the bag and run his fingers along the deep black fabric. It felt amazingly soft but strong and miles away from the tuxes he and Dylan had been looking over the day before. Considering the number of measurements Gabe took and quality of the material he knew it wasn’t a rental of any kind. Gabe had gone to a tailor with those measurements, picked out fabrics, styles, accessories.

  The part of him that had nearly cried when filling out food-stamp forms fifteen years earlier, was positively screaming at the thought of a tux made just for him for this night. Another part of him wished that Gabe wasn’t the CFO so he could have just rented a tux like a normal person, had a fun night, and not thought about the ramifications that he was the first man Gabe had ever been public with. And yet a third part of his mind was screaming at the other two to just shut the fuck up because he was getting sex and nice gifts, and was generally happy, and that was not a bad thing. All in all the inside of his head was getting noisy.

  James never kept a drop of alcohol in his apartment, but Mrs. Avila liked to put enough rum in her coffee that it was more rum than coffee, and she was always more than willing to share. She also wouldn’t hesitate to smack down his pride when it started getting in the way.

  He watched the clock flip to five thirty. He shut down his computer as quickly as possible. He really needed some coffee.

  Gabe gave a spin in his stocking feet, letting himself whirl around his office bathroom. He’d gotten in early so he could do some quick weekend work before the party. Crews had already been in the lobby setting up tables, stringing lights, and setting up a stage. The prom always looked good and went off well, but he wanted this year to be perfect. Truthfully, while he always looked forward to the annual party, he hadn’t been this excited about it in years. If there was one night to show off TechPrim, it was prom night.

  He ran some gel through his hair, still damp from a quick shower. His phone pinged at him, telling him he had a text. He peered at it surprised to see his sister’s name. She wasn’t much for texting.

  Mom is going to call you in a minute. Be warned.

  A string of curses in multiple languages filled his mind.

  Why?

  Not sure. Just know she’s on the phone with Auntie Loreen and heard Cousin Felipe’s name, then yours.

  “Crap,” Gabe muttered. Before he could reply to that text, his phone began to ring with his mother’s picture up on the screen.

  “Dylan!” James called out, finally hitting the limit of his frustrations.

  “What?” Dylan shouted back before entering the bedroom.

  “By some odd chance, do you know how to tie a bow tie?” He held out the offending strip of black silk. “I’ve looked at these instructions about fifty times.”

  “Give them here.” James handed over the tie and an instruction guide he’d printed out at work the day before. Dylan read them over a few times before placing the tie around James’ neck. “Who’d’ve thought I’d be helping you get ready for prom?” James rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. Dylan pulled his hands away, then frowned. “Let me try that again.” James stood there, head back, while Dylan made a half-dozen attempts.

  “Maybe you can forget about the tie?” Dylan asked, admitting defeat himself.

  “It’s a black-tie event. Tie is sort of in the description.”

  “You can do that whole, hang it around your neck like you’re just too cool to bother tying it. Sort of a Daniel Craig-Bond-look.”

  “No one is ever going to believe I’m too cool for anything.”

  Dylan draped the tie around James’ neck anyway. “Get Gabe to do it for you. Let’s get the rest of you done up.” He grabbed the cufflinks that were lying on the bed. They were heavy silver with dark mother-of-pearl inlay and had been tucked in with the shirt. Dylan slid them into place before helping James with the jacket and smoothing down the lapels.

  “Look at you, Dad.”

  James looked at himself in the little mirror that hung inside his wardrobe door. He truly didn’t recognize himself. He pulled his shoulders back. He seemed taller, slim without being skinny, and there were no strange wrinkles. There was nothing worn, faded, or patched. He couldn’t even see a loose thread. He was almost afraid to move. The jacket sat perfectly on his shoulders like a work of art, a study of clean lines in black.

  Dylan shifted his hair around so it looked halfway good. He gave each sleeve a quick tug. The cufflinks glinted in the light of the single bulb. He wiggled his toes in his shoes and wondered what the socks that he had found tucked into them were made of. They felt awfully nice.

  He turned to face Dylan. “How do I look?”

  Dylan looked him over, his head tilted to one side. “You look like a grown-up.” James sighed at the glib response. “No, I mean it. You look like you are about to go off to a very swank party on the arm of a captain of industry, and you look like that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be going.” Dylan smiled, looking positively proud. “You don’t look like you’re going to prom.”

  James looked at himself in the mirror again and brushed his hand down the lapels. His phone rang, and he quickly grabbed it. He was finally getting to the point where he reco
gnized the ringtone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. It’s me.” Gabe sounded breathless. “Did the tux get there? Did it fit okay?”

  “It fits great. What’s up?”

  “I’m really sorry.” James’ stomach dropped as Gabe rattled off the words. “I got a hell of a mess dropped in my lap, so I’m not going to be able to drive up there to get you if I want to actually be able to spend any time at the party.”

  “Oh, okay. I can get down there—” He’d have to try out the map function on his phone to actually find the TechPrim offices.

  “Don’t be silly. I talked Jared into heading up there. He should be there any moment now.”

  “Oh, um… okay, then.”

  “I swear I was going to call you about an hour ago, but this is the first moment I’ve had—”

  “It’s okay, really.” Gabe sounded frantic, something James had never heard from him before.

  “It really isn’t, and if I could disown my entire family at this point and—” Gabe cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Everything is okay with the tux?”

  James glanced at himself in the mirror again. “Yeah. The tux is good. Still working on the tie a bit.”

  Gabe laughed. “Don’t worry about that. I still need to get Margaret or Tamyra to do mine. If they’re not around, I just dangle it around my neck and try to look cool.”

  “For some reason I think you could pull off that look better than I could.”

  “Don’t underestimate your coolness.” There were voices in the background of the call. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon?”

  “See you soon. Bye.” Dylan looked at him questioningly. “Something big popped up, so Jared’s going to be picking me up instead of Gabe himself.” Dylan pinched his lips, giving a disapproving look he must have picked up from his grandmother. “He’s got a lot of important work. It’s amazing he gets any time.”