“No. No. Whatever you’re planning, stop now.”
Joey’s face became stern and serious. “He came to the hospital. That means everything.”
He turned and climbed onstage.
Cinderella and Prince Charming stood in the moonlight, alone in a tiny courtyard.
“You don’t have to propose if you don’t want to,” Kate said.
“Of course I want to,” said Zef.
She beamed. “You do?”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? I swear Kate, I…” Zef turned away, frowning a little, then looked back. “This is the truth, and I don’t say it as often as I should. Out of all the girls in the world, you are the nicest, the most beautiful, the smartest. You’re my best friend. If I’m ever going to marry someone, there’s no better girl than you. I love you.”
“I love you too. There’s nobody else for me either. And we can be engaged for twenty years if we want. We’re not ready until we’re ready.”
“Right.”
She grinned at him. “Well?”
“What?”
She glanced at the cobblestones. “If you’re going to ask, then—ask me now, okay? For us and nobody else.”
Zef produced a velvet box. “My dad gave me this. It was my mom’s ring. It’s not much.”
“I don’t need anything but you.”
He went to one knee. “Kate Usher?”
She wiped her eye and grinned at herself. “Yes, Joseph Van Brunt?”
Zef looked into Kate’s eyes. This was their threshold, their point of no return. He raised the little band of gold.
He hesitated. “I can’t,” he said. “Not yet. Not here.” He stood, breaking the moment, laughing. “I’m too darn cold.”
“You okay?” said Kate, smiling helplessly.
“I can’t feel my ears, Baby. It’s killing the romance.”
“Okay. Let’s go in.”
He closed the box and pocketed it. “I’ll ask you at midnight. Just the once. When I’m warmed up.”
“I can help you with that.”
She kissed him. He held her. They warmed each other.
Cinderella and her prince went back to the ballroom, where an antique clock hung, ticking off the minutes until midnight.
Kate kissed Zef again. “I’ll be back in just a little while. I’ve got an errand. Don’t let some girl shanghai you. You’re mine, mister.” She slipped away, giving him a happy wave as she entered the crowd.
Zef grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and drained one. He attempted to return the empty glass but his aim was poor; the glass tipped and fell to the carpet, breaking apart into stem and bowl.
“Let me get that for you, sir,” the waiter said.
“Thanks.”
The man dropped to one knee as if to propose. “Are you here alone?” the waiter asked, giving the tiniest wink.
Zef spun and ran away. His demons were laughing at him, at his pretense of being normal. That waiter could tell. That waiter knew. Zef would be found out, his disguises ripped away. He wasn’t going to find happiness with Kate. He didn’t deserve it.
His parents were bickering near the Christmas tree, tossing insults at each other. They were no help to him. They couldn’t even rescue themselves. No one was coming to save him. He had lost the thread. He was down in the cellar, with the demons. No—he was the demon. He was the monster in the cellar, the minotaur of myth. Only half a man and the other half monstrous, chained and banished, trapped in an impenetrable labyrinth of its father’s design.
Am I here alone? Funny you should ask that, handsome. Yes, I am here alone.
I’ve never been more alone in my life.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the orchestra leader. “The dance floor is open and the countdown has begun. We are the Tom Yellen Orchestra, and to start our countdown we’ve got a guest vocalist with us. Please welcome a talented young singer and a friend of ours, Mister Joey Osorio.”
Zef froze.
Hadewych stepped forward and whispered, “What is that one up to now?”
Joey took the microphone. “Happy New Year, everyone. Thank you, Tom, for letting me sit in. And thank you, Senator Usher and Mister Van Brunt, for your generous invitation and hospitality.” The orchestra began a slow intro, a lullaby for an aching heart. “This song is from the nineteen-forty musical Pal Joey. My name is Joey Osorio, and there’s someone here tonight whose pal I’d like to be. They know who they are.”
Zef’s tears came before the song had even started. He couldn’t help them. They were water from a rock. He wiped them away quickly, thankful for the dim light. He slipped behind the Christmas tree, watching Joey but hiding from everyone else.
The song was “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.” Joey sang it simply, with no tremor in his voice, no pain, just an earnest declaration of feeling. Couples slipped into each other’s arms. The dance floor filled with swaying shoulders, with young lovers discovering what it’s all about, with silver-haired marrieds remembering why they bothered. Joey swayed a little as he sang, leading the microphone and crooning in its ear.
During the instrumental break his eyes found Zef’s and he went still. He nodded, slightly. Zef nodded back and glanced around fearfully. No one had seen the exchange. Joey smiled and raised a finger, as if to say, “Pay attention, now.”
The song had originally been written to be sung by a woman. And when Joey rejoined the orchestra on the last verse, he reverted to the original, masculine pronouns, refusing to sing “she” when he meant “he”—making it crystal clear that this was a love song from a him to a him, and the world could just like it or lump it.
Hadewych lumped it. He accosted a banquet employee and hissed, “I want that fruit thrown out. This is a public place.”
The man shook his head. It was the waiter who had winked. “Shame on you,” he said, and walked on, leaving Hadewych to gape like a fish.
Zef stared at his father and thought, If only I were one-tenth as brave as that waiter.
Or one-hundredth as brave as my pal Joey.
The song ended to much applause. Joey climbed offstage, not returning to Jason. Looking for Zef, probably.
Kate appeared at Jason’s side. “What was that?”
Jason shrugged helplessly. “A Grand Romantic Gesture.”
“Who’s he got a crush on?”
“Somebody he can’t have.”
“Is it you?”
“Me? What? No.”
“I had to ask.”
“Joey does not have a crush on me.”
“Then he’s got very poor taste.” She took his arm. “Come on, we need to talk.”
Jessica had seen Hadewych’s exchange with the waiter. She laughed, spinning in her chair.
“You need to lighten up,” she said. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
Hadewych looked innocent. “Do you have a partner in mind?”
“Is there anyone you might ask?”
“What if I asked you?”
“Go ahead and find out.”
Hadewych smiled. “Jessica, my good woman, would you do me the honor of this dance?”
She cocked an eyebrow, raised one long leg, and massaged her calf. “You knew I couldn’t resist coming tonight, didn’t you?”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“There’s not a girl on earth who doesn’t dream of this. Here I am, little popcorn salesgirl Jessie Bridge, rubbing elbows with American royalty. Cinderella refuse a ball? Of course I came. And of course I’ll dance. I could never resist a charming prince.”
Hadewych bowed and offered his arm. “Shall we?”
She rose, curtseyed, and said, “I didn’t mean you.”
She crossed the room, tapped Paul Usher on the shoulder, and led him to the dance floor.
The greenhouse was a cathedral of glass and dirt. The pews were troughs of frozen soil. The altars were rows of empty pots. At the far end a dead grapevine hung limply, nailed to the cross-hatch of a trellis. Two lig
hts stained the dusty glass—the feeble moon and the harsh parking lot halogens. To one side loomed pallets of potting soil, fat plastic bags stacked six feet high. Kate led Jason behind these, as if taking him into a confessional.
“Brr,” said Jason. “We should have worn our—”
“I’m getting engaged.”
Jason stared at her, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.
“What?”
“We’re getting engaged. Me and Zef.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s not supposed to be. “
“You’re bullshitting me again.”
“It’s true.”
His eyes adjusted to the dark. He saw no mockery in her face, only patient kindness, like a nurse dressing a wound. “Zef asked you?”
“He’s proposing at midnight.”
“Say no.”
“Don’t.”
“Say no! You can’t get engaged. That’s crazy. You’re only seventeen.”
“Marrying young is not that unusual in my world.”
“It is in mine. You can’t do it.”
“I’m not asking permission.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because I don’t want you hurt. I know you like me. I didn’t want it to be a shock.”
“Well, it is a shock. You can’t marry Zef.” Jason balled his fists. He was going to have to out Zef after all. It had fallen to him to save her from a sham marriage. But he would exhaust every other objection first. “Have you guys even slept together?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“I’ll take that as a no. And now you want to spend the rest of your life with him?”
“I love him.”
“You think you do. But you don’t know Zef.”
“I’ve known him since we were kids. I’ve known you for three months.”
“Fine. You still don’t belong with him.”
“I told you this would happen. I saw it. I had a vision. Zef was—”
“Waiting at the altar. I know.”
“Of the Old Dutch Church. In a blue suit with a grey tie. He is my future.”
“Well, I had a vision too. And in my vision I was standing at the altar of the Old Dutch Church and you were walking up the aisle to marry me.” He bit his lip. He’d been desperately close to adding, “How do you like them apples.”
“You’re making that up.”
“It’s true. It’s what I saw. On the dance floor. At the Spirit Dance. The first time we touched each other.” He reached for her. “I’m your future. Not Zef.”
She pulled away. “That’s not possible.”
“How is it not possible? Can’t the future change? You said it’s tricky. And you didn’t know me when you had your vision.”
“Every vision I’ve ever had has come true. I’m strong. Like my mother.”
Jason took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve, offering his bare arm. “Read me. Maybe your Gift has come back. Tell our future.”
“We’ve read each other. It only works once. You know that.”
“Try.”
Her hand took his wrist and he could feel his pulse beating hard against the pressure of her cool fingers. She held still for several breaths. She pulled away. “You’re dark. Like I said you’d be.”
He buttoned his sleeve and donned his jacket. “I’m telling the truth.”
“You’re trying to spoil my happiness.”
He softened. “No. No.”
“You are. You’re making up this story to confuse me. If you had a vision, why wait until now to tell me?”
“I didn’t want to change the future.”
“Neither do I. And I saw what I saw.”
“You didn’t see this.” He went down on one knee, without hesitation.
“What are you doing?”
Jason took her hand. “Marry me.”
“Get up.”
“No. I’m proposing. I’m doing it first. I love you.”
She rubbed her arms, shivering. “You love me?”
“You’re my star-maiden. And all I want to do is seize you and throw you over my shoulder, okay?”
“Shh. Get up.”
He shook his head. “Marry me.”
She kissed the top of his head. “Get up. Get up. I don’t love you. I love Zef and he loves me.”
Jason stood. He’d run out of options. “Kate.” He brought his hand to her cheek. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this. But Zef doesn’t love you. If Zef loves anybody, it’s probably—”
“They can’t make me marry her!”
Jason and Kate whirled. It was Zef’s voice.
“Just say no then!” shouted Joey. “Tell them the truth!”
Jason’s heart stopped. Zef and Joey had also fled to the greenhouse to talk. He had to wave them off. But Kate grabbed him by the tie and pressed a finger to her lips. Her eyes were fierce. She wanted to hear this.
Oh crap.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“The Storm”
Jason peered around the bags of potting soil and caught a glimpse of the newcomers. Zef looked like a wild man, and had a bottle of Grey Goose in one fist, probably stolen from the open bar. Joey looked excited and hopeful. Kate grabbed Jason’s arm and pulled him back into hiding.
“I can’t back out!” Zef shouted. “My dad would kill me!”
“Screw him. It’s your life!”
“How could I face Kate?”
“Just tell her… you need time.”
“And go through this again in a year? I can’t.”
“Maybe things will change by then.”
“I won’t. I’m stuck like this. Forever. I can’t fix it.”
“You’re not broken. Give me the bottle.”
“Get your own.”
“Drinking won’t help.”
“No. I have to marry her. I have to. Oh. I hate my life. I’m a liar, Joey. A stinking liar.”
“Then just come out.”
Kate’s eyes went wide. Jason’s heart ached for her.
“I can’t,” Zef whispered.
“Just say the words,” Joey said gently. “Just say, ‘I’m gay.’”
“I can’t.”
“Is it a lie?”
A moment of silence. Maybe Zef shook his head. Maybe he nodded.
“Just say it to me, then,” said Joey. “It’s just us. You’re safe. Get it out. Just once. I promise you’ll feel better.”
Another long moment. Then a tiny voice broke the silence, hoarse as the rusted hinge of a long-locked door.
“I’m gay,” Zef whispered.
Kate’s hand covered her mouth. She slipped against the bags of potting soil, her knees giving out. Jason knelt beside her, kissed her hair. She pushed him away.
“That’s good,” said Joey. “I’m proud of you. Doesn’t it feel good to get it out?”
“Yes.” Zef sniffed.
“I’ve waited for you. I never gave up on you.”
“But it still doesn’t change anything. I have to marry her.”
“No. You don’t,” Kate said. She stood and emerged from their hiding place. “You don’t have to marry her.”
Zef whirled. “Kate,” he gasped. Jason had never seen such naked terror. “I can explain.”
“No, see?” She raised a hand. “You don’t have to! You don’t have to explain. You don’t have to explain anything to her or marry her or kiss her or lie to her. You don’t have to touch her or even speak to her on the street. Because she gets it! Kate finally gets it. You’re gay. I get it! You two have something going. Joey was singing to you and you would prefer to be with him. I get it! Great. Good for me. Kate gets the joke at last.”
“You—you can’t tell my dad.”
“I’m not going to tell your dad.”
“Please Kate. He can’t know. He—”
“I get it! He pushed you at me. And you said ‘Yes sir I’ll kiss the icky rich girl.’”
“No. No. No.�
�� Zef looked like a man facing a firing squad.
“Whatever. That’s between you and him. Just stop lying to me.” She softened. “Why did you lie to me? Didn’t you trust me? Why did you lie, Zef?”
“I had to.”
“No!” She shook her head. “No one ever has to lie.” The tears were coming now, filling the space her receding anger had left vacant. “I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you.”
She wiped her face. The tears stopped and the anger returned. “But now Kate gets it. Sorry I’m late to the party, everybody, but I get it finally. Stupid Kate gets what’s going on. What I don’t get—” She turned to Jason. “You knew. You knew all along. You and Joey and God knows who else. But you—Jason, I asked you. Didn’t I? I asked you—as my friend—if you knew what was up with Zef. And you lied to me too.”
Jason looked at his shoes. “I—”
“Eyes up here, Mister. You lied, didn’t you?”
Jason faced her squarely. “Yes, but—”
“No. There is no excuse.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice so that only he could hear. “I may not have my Gift anymore. But here’s the real future. Not Boy A. Not Boy B. Never. You just stay away from me, Jason.” She pushed past Zef. “Congratulations, Joey. He’s all yours.”
Zef reached for her. “Kate.”
“Don’t follow me!” She stormed out of the greenhouse.
Zef crumpled against the doorframe. His hands went to his face. When he brought them down, he had transformed into Mister Hyde. He threw the vodka bottle through the greenhouse glass.
“You two set me up,” he growled, as cold air swept into the room.
“No,” said Joey. “It was a mistake.”
Zef pointed at Jason. “You wanted her! You think I didn’t know you wanted her? You two planned this together!”
“That’s crazy,” said Jason.
“You planned it!”
“Shh. It’ll be okay Zef,” said Joey, going to him, arms raised. “I’d never hurt you like that. You know I wouldn’t. I love you.”
Zef raised a fist. Before Jason had time to do anything, Zef pulled the fist back and punched Joey in the face. “Get off me, you dirty fag!” Joey’s hands went up. He stumbled into the troughs and fell under a waterfall of dirt. Zef gasped, shocked by what he’d done, but by now he was past all self-control. “You’ve ruined my life! My life is ruined! I’m dead!”
Sleepy Hollow: Bridge of Bones Page 24