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by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  He couldn’t deny that in the back of his mind he was hoping Eli would be so impressed with the place and the evening Alec had planned, he’d want to move right in. But Alec also kept telling himself that probably wouldn’t happen. His head was beginning to hurt swinging between his dreams and his reality.

  “Sir?”

  “S-sorry, Dody,” Alec said, refocusing on his notes. “Which point are you concerned about?” The sooner he could get his hands on Eli, the better. That contact settled him, settled his mind and his fears.

  Once the questions were answered and the students had filed back out, Alec was alone for exactly three minutes before another knock sounded at his office door.

  “Come in.”

  “Cheers!”

  “Lincoln?” Alec stood up and shook the young man’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “Sorry I missed your move.”

  “No problem. We had plenty of help. How are you?”

  “I’m good, thanks.” He took the seat Alec offered. “I tracked you down from that card you left me. Wanted to let you know Mickey might be comin’ back to London.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yeah, he’s clawin’ the paint off the walls back home.” Lincoln chuckled nervously, but then he grew quiet—quiet and fidgety. He wouldn’t meet Alec’s eye.

  “Aren’t you happy about his return?”

  “He… he still doesn’t talk about what happened.”

  “That takes time, I’m afraid, but I think returning to London is a good start. He needs to be somewhere he can be himself.”

  Lincoln nodded thoughtfully. “I know.” He sighed. “I just hate that he was just beginnin’ here, beginnin’ to be himself, and then that happened.”

  “He was raped, Lincoln. You can say it.”

  Lincoln finally faced Alec directly. “What if I can’t help him or… say the wrong thing?”

  “Just be his friend. Be ready to listen when he’s ready to talk.”

  Lincoln stood awkwardly, hovering in the doorway as if he might bolt at any second. His unease and fear were apparent. “I don’t know if I’m what he needs.” Lincoln hugged himself. “I don’t know if I’m good enough. I don’t want to mess him up more.”

  “Lincoln, I’m here for you both. You know that, right?”

  Lincoln nodded. “He remembers you, ya know. He’s grateful.”

  “I’m glad I could help.

  “And… and Mum says hi.” Alec grinned broadly. “She wants to know if you’re still seeing someone.”

  “Uh… yeah. Yes I am, actually. Same guy.”

  “Good on you, but she’ll be disappointed. She’d like to see me with a doctor.”

  “Forgive me, but I got the impression you had feelings for Mickey.”

  Lincoln turned several shades of pink in quick succession, and Alec grinned.

  “Oh, well… he and I… we just grew up together. That’s all.”

  Alec leaned forward. “I have two very good friends who have known each other since they were kids, and they’re a couple now.” Lincoln grinned weakly, never turning fully toward Alec. “I’ll send you an invitation to a surprise party we’re having for a friend, and you can meet them. Okay?”

  “That would be great.”

  “Hopefully Mickey will be your ‘plus one’.”

  “Fingers crossed,” Lincoln said, absently tracing Alec’s name on the glass in his office door.

  Alec got up and went to him. “Caring for someone who’s been traumatized obviously isn’t simple,” he said, gently placing his hand on Lincoln’s shoulder. “You second-guess yourself. You’re terrified of making a mistake, maybe making things worse.” Lincoln looked up into Alec’s face. “But it’s important to remember that it takes time. There will be setbacks, but trust in your love for the man, and he’ll come to trust in it too.”

  Lincoln finally smiled and seemed to relax. He thanked Alec, and they shook hands before he left the office. Alec went back to his desk, reflecting on what he’d just told the young man, and his gaze settled on a recently framed picture of him and Eli.

  Back in January all the housemates and Casey had attended a small benefit for Gay’s the Word. The gay and lesbian bookshop had survived some heavy threats since opening in 1979, not the least of which was the ever-present financial struggle that all independent bookstores had to deal with. Lyle had been passionate about helping out because the store had been a safe, welcoming place for him when he first arrived in London. Tony had donated a painting for auction, and Ilsa had provided the refreshments.

  The artist, as always, had been snapping pictures, and this one had caught Alec’s eye. In it he was embracing a laughing Eli from behind as they stood by a shelf of books. Alec remembered clearly that he’d been watching Eli during the event as he meandered throughout the store, strolling up and down the narrow aisles, stopping to chat with someone, or pausing to look at a book.

  Alec had slowly made his way over to him, coming up behind him as he stood, engrossed in the back cover of a novel. He had embraced Eli suddenly, startling him and sending him into a fit of laughter. Just then, Tony had appeared and shouted at them to look his way, then snapped the picture. So here they were, forever frozen together in a moment of joy and intimacy.

  Alec sighed, tracing Eli’s image with his finger. “And he’ll come to trust in it too.”

  Chapter 21

  “WHICH one?”

  Ilsa sat on Eli’s bed flipping through a magazine. “Which what?—Oooh!” she said, a recipe catching her eye. “That looks tasty.” She carefully tore the page from the magazine and laid it on the bed next to her.

  “Tie… Ilsa, which tie?”

  She looked up to see Eli holding a dark gray tie and a navy tie. As he took turns holding each just under his chin for comparison, she saw a lot going on in his eyes: he was eager, excited, nervous, and afraid, but she also saw hope there. All of that couldn’t possibly hinge on which tie he chose.

  “Have you chosen a jacket yet?” she asked. He indicated the navy jacket hanging on the back of the bedroom door. “Then definitely the gun-metal gray one. It’s lovely.” Her eyes returned immediately to the magazine.

  “And it’s the one you bought me,” he said. Ilsa smiled to herself as he quickly flipped up his collar, moved to the mirror hanging inside his closet door, and began tying his tie. “I don’t know. Maybe I should go with the white shirt,” he said, glancing at her in the mirror, “or maybe the light gray one.”

  “Nope. The blue shirt sets off your eyes.” She met his gaze in the mirror. “And we all know how much Alec loves your eyes.”

  “YOU don’t think my hair is too short?”

  Enjoying a cigarette on the balcony, Mirabell glanced into Alec’s bedroom, where he was running his fingers through his newly trimmed hair. “It’s not too short, love. There’s still plenty for him to grab hold of.”

  She was dressed head-to-toe in sunshine yellow: hair ribbon in her shocking red hair, a simple, sleeveless shell dress, stockings, and shoes. She resembled a petite—or organic—banana enjoying the night air from Alec’s bedroom balcony. He tugged on his hair, trying to get it to lie right as he looked in the mirror. Mirabell watched him fuss for a few moments.

  “Perhaps if you concentrate hard enough it will grow back before he gets here,” she said, taking another disinterested puff from her cigarette.

  “Mr. Sumner?” someone shouted from the kitchen.

  “Yeah?”

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  Struggling into his shirt and nearly walking into a wall, Alec rushed into the kitchen. “Thank you, Jacob.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want me to stay and serve?”

  “No, no, I can handle that. Thanks.”

  “Okay. The chicken is out of the oven, here,” Jacob said, indicating a pan on the top of the stove. “I’ve covered it to keep it moist until it’s served.” Alec nodded. “Now the rice should be turned off and drained in exactly�
��—he glanced at the clock—“eight minutes. Got that?” Alec nodded again, and Jacob sighed heavily. Alec was sure the man didn’t believe he could handle it. “The vegetables are grilled and wrapped in foil under the lid with the chicken.”

  “Got it, Jacob. Thank you so much for your help.”

  “Hang on, I haven’t explained the sauce yet.”

  “Yes, you have. It’s just there,” Alec said pointing to the small white container sitting in the center of the stove top. “You told me earlier that it goes in the microwave for ten seconds on high before pouring it over the chicken.”

  Jacob smiled, suspiciously impressed. “Very good.” He gathered his things and headed for the door. “Best of luck with everything.”

  “Thank you.” Alec walked him to the door, and once Jacob had gone, he returned to the kitchen and stood staring at the rice on the stove. He periodically checked the clock above the sink. “Mira!”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you grab two white candles from this drawer on my left?”

  Mirabell strolled into the kitchen at a pace that made Alec want to scream.

  “Where?” she asked. He hit the drawer with his knee and then removed the rice from the burner and took it to the sink to drain. “Why go to all this trouble?” She found the candles and stood there holding one in each hand, her cigarette hanging from her lips as she spoke. “You’re acting like you’ve never tasted each other’s candy, like it’s a first date.” She turned and headed back into the living room.

  “It’s our first date since I moved out. It’s special, or at least I want it to be.”

  She didn’t respond, and he poked his head out of the kitchen. He watched her place the candles in their holders on the table he’d set earlier, then light them. He was thankful she wasn’t using her cigarette.

  “Things have been a bit strained, and we’ve both been busy—classes, clients, certification, students, and even some friends are conspiring against us, it seems.”

  She flicked her lighter closed. “Expecting him to spend the night, huh?” she asked smiling wickedly.

  “Hoping. It’ll be his first time staying over.”

  “Well, as long as you’ve remembered the lube, you’re golden, my dear.”

  “Thanks, Mira.”

  The dinner was all set, candles lit, Alec clean and pressed, and yes, he had remembered the lube.

  “Your silence tells me our conversation is at an end, and I’d better get my arse outta here before your luvah arrives.”

  Alec laughed out loud and helped her into a jacket so deep purple that he could almost taste the grape.

  ILSA waved to Eli as the taxi pulled away and then went back into the house and closed the door. She leaned against it and listened to the silence around her. Casey was working all night at the hospital. Everyone else had moved out. And Eli was probably gone for the night on his date with Alec. There was no one to cook for, no one to talk to, no one to fight with; it was unnatural and uncomfortable. Too much empty space now.

  She ticked it off in her head: attic room with bath, two bedrooms and a bath on the floor below that, bedroom with bath on the main floor, big kitchen, dining room, living room, large backyard, and a deck. All that and just me. She still had Eli, but she didn’t honestly expect him to stay much longer, not with Alec in a brand new apartment. He’d more than likely follow his heart.

  She sighed and headed for the kitchen, the place where she usually found solutions to problems. She flicked on the kitchen light and retrieved her recipe scrapbook from the island drawer. Pulling up a stool and using a hair tie from her pocket to hold her hair back, she laid the book open and began slowly flipping through the pages in search of something new to cook.

  There were recipe clippings from magazines pasted to blank sheets of paper, quickly jotted notes, ingredient lists, and playful recipe titles scribbled in the margins. Ilsa remembered the recipe she’d discovered while Eli was getting dressed and fished it out of her pocket. She smoothed it out on a page and dug out some glue from the island drawer to secure it into place.

  There was a colorful array of fingerprints on every page, left there from any number of sauces, greases, flours, eggs, icings, cheeses, and cake batters she’d had on her hands over the years. She paused in her search and listened, but there was only the ticking of the clock and the hum of the icebox.

  None of her recipes were catching her eye. She folded her arms over the book and rested her head on her hands. She could nap right here and no one would be the wiser. Why? Because no one else is here. Her insides felt hollow—nope, there was a quiver of fear alive and well inside. She glanced up at the phone and considered calling her sister, but she thought better of it. She didn’t want to risk her mother answering.

  Ilsa had walked away from her own family because they wouldn’t accept her as she was. After meeting and befriending Bennett, her alternative clan grew quickly to embrace Eli, Tony, and Lyle. But then they’d lost Bennett—and effectively Eli. Lyle dealt with it by taking care of everyone else, Tony by painting relentlessly, and Ilsa by working extra hours and bedding every woman, and occasional man, she could get her hands on.

  Then Alec came into their lives and things shifted again. When the light came back into Eli’s eyes, she’d been hopeful—hopeful that despite the loss of Bennett, her family could move on and be happy together. Now she’d lost Tony and Lyle just as they found each other. Alec had moved out, and Eli was close behind. Maybe she could ask Casey to move in. Come live with me so I won’t be lonely. Would she do that? It’s not very romantic. Are we ready for that?

  The phone rang, startling her. She stood, leaned over, grabbed the receiver, and put her head right back on top of her recipe book.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Casey? I thought you were working all night. Where are you?”

  “I’m on a break. I was just thinking of you and thought I’d ring you up.”

  Ilsa smiled. “I’m glad you called.” She laughed nervously, ashamed. “I was starting to feel sorry for myself.”

  “Why, sweetie?”

  “The house is empty, and I guess I was feeling a bit forgotten.”

  The silence on the other end worried her, but then Casey finally spoke.

  “You are unforgettable, Ilsa.”

  Ilsa lifted her head and smiled. Yeah, we’re ready for that.

  Chapter 22

  ELI tried to calm his heart as he waited for Alec to open the door. He felt ridiculous being this nervous about a dinner date, but he couldn’t settle himself. He’d abandoned the idea of a tie and changed his clothes several times before choosing a simple blue jumper and dark jeans. Then he had to decide what to bring: flowers, wine, dessert? He knew he should bring something other than himself and his needs—or his fears.

  The door opened and there was Alec, looking fantastic and chasing all previous concerns from his head.

  “Come in,” Alec said, stepping back to allow him to pass. The first thing he noticed as he brushed past his boyfriend was Alec’s familiar and much-missed scent. Then the aroma of dinner overtook him, and he grinned, opening his mouth to comment on it, but suddenly he found himself silenced by Alec’s kiss and dizzied by a full-body embrace.

  “God, I’ve missed this, missed you like this,” Alec groaned against Eli’s ear as his lips made their way to his neck.

  Eli nearly dropped the bottle of Chardonnay he’d brought, but he tightened his grip on the bottle’s neck just as his knees threatened to give way under Alec’s onslaught. “I… I brought wine,” he gasped out between kisses.

  “Uh-huh.” Alec kissed him deeply again, their tongues sliding over each other, and Eli gave up, throwing his arms around Alec’s neck. He bumped him softly on the back of his head with the bottle and the handle of his cane as he returned the kiss enthusiastically.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Alec drew back. “No problem,” he said, taking the bottle from Eli and setting it on the
bar by the door. Then he got back to manhandling him. Alec backed him up against the bar and began rubbing him through his jeans.

  Eli grunted and gripped Alec by the back of his head. “Hey,” he said, pausing and searching Alec’s face, “you’ve cut your hair!”

  Alec smiled. “Just a bit. More of a trim, really.” They looked into each other’s eyes, Eli reaching up to comb his fingers through Alec’s hair and brushing a lock off his forehead.

  “It looks good,” Eli said softly.

  Alec smiled and inclined his head slightly to the left. Eli followed the movement and was clearly delighted by the spectacle staged in front of the large windows that looked out over London. The room had been arranged to make space for the table. It was set beautifully with two simple, armless chairs, a burgundy tablecloth, and two white candles, glowing as they stood sentry over a collection of simple, elegant china. Eli slipped free of Alec and slowly made his way across the room, unable to tear the smile from his face.

  “Have a seat, and I’ll be right with you,” Alec said. Eli sat, gazing at the table and then out the window. He unfolded his napkin and spread it on his lap. Somewhere in the room, soft music began to play, and then Alec was there, bearing plates filled with the most wonderfully aromatic meal Eli could remember. And that was saying something, considering he lived with a chef.

  Alec set the plates down in their proper places. “Just a sec,” he said, disappearing again. Eli looked over his meal, eager to have a taste. He glanced at the bar in time to see Alec work the cork of the wine loose with a muted pop, then Alec dimmed the lights, grabbed the bottle, and joined him at the table.

  Eli watched him pour them each a glass of wine. “You went to a lot of trouble,” he said.

  “You’re worth it.”

  Eli grinned and sipped his wine, and Alec did the same, gazing at him over his glass. But when they put their glasses down, an uncomfortable silence fell. And as it stretched out between them, Eli began to fidget, his eyes searching for something to light on other than Alec’s handsome, yet equally befuddled face. This unfamiliar awkwardness was so different from their passionate greeting.