Foolish Me

by Tinnean

  Chapter 3

  I SAT in the middle of the floor in my office, swearing. I hated when I did stuff like this! That damned videotape was supposed to be in this box. I was certain I’d put it there, but I—

  “Bastard!” There it was, at the bottom of the box, buried under books, some TV Guides from 1997—why hadn’t they been recycled?—and an ascot. Which of the boys had owned an ascot?

  “What are you doing, babe?”

  I looked over my shoulder to see Wills standing in the doorway. “Shit! Time ran away from me, and I haven’t even started dinner. I was at Delilah’s condo, getting it ready for Vince. Those bastards she was related to—”

  They weren’t happy about what Vince had offered for the condo, but they were getting desperate and had accepted it. Then they’d gone passive-aggressive about getting her belongings out of there. I’d taken some time from an accounting job to deal with them, and I hoped I’d made them as miserable as they’d made Delilah.

  But that had reminded me, and I held up the tape in triumph. “Vince wanted this.”

  “The video of Delilah Carson, Pretty Boy, and Spike? I remember.” He didn’t sound happy. “I’ll let Mr. Vincent know. Theo... Do you have a safe-deposit box?”

  “Sure.” Didn’t everyone?

  “Maybe you’d better make a copy of the tape and put the original in the safe-deposit box. If it ever gets out that you have it....”

  “Why would anyone care?”

  “Babe, someone wanted to get rid of Delilah Carson badly enough to cut her to ribbons.”

  “What are you talking about? Her boyfriend went off the deep end and killed her.”

  Now he didn’t look happy. “Humor me, Theo?” He never asked me for anything.

  “All right. Do you want to watch it while I make the copy?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve seen porn.” And this was damned good, if I did say so myself.

  “Porn is one thing, and home movies are another. I’m gonna take a shower and change, and then I thought I’d order pizza for dinner, if that’s okay with you?”

  “That’s fine, babe.”

  We left my office. Wills walked toward our bedroom, and I headed toward the living room. I found a blank tape and got started making a copy for Vince.

  AFTER DINNER, Wills took the pizza boxes down to the trash can just off the driveway. I put a bag of popcorn into the microwave. This was movie night, and a comedy might be a good idea. Airplane, maybe. We’d watch it, quoting all the good lines.

  Or maybe we’d just sit on the couch and make out.

  I waited for Wills by the door, and as soon as I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I struck a sexy pose against the doorframe and waited for him.

  Only it wasn’t Wills. It was Vince.

  He was still living in the attic apartment but wouldn’t be for too much longer. Delilah’s next of kin had sold everything of value. I’d gone to her pink condo earlier in the day to make sure they’d cleared it out, which they hadn’t quite. They’d left behind a ragged Raggedy Ann doll that had to be twenty-five years old and a couple of photos. I recognized a teenaged Delilah in one, with her arm around a slightly younger girl, and in the second was an older version of the other girl with a little boy of maybe three or four in her arms.

  I’d brought home the doll and the photos—someone who knew and cared about Delilah should have them.

  “Earth to Theo!”

  “Huh?”

  “Matheson said you’d found that tape?”

  “Oh, yeah. Come on in. I’ll get it for you. Can I get you something? A drink? Coffee?” I grinned at him over my shoulder. “Some leftover pizza?”

  “No, thanks. I just finished dinner.”

  “Okay. Well, it’s in the living room. I tried to get Wills to watch it, but he said porn is one thing, and home movies are something else.”

  “He’s got a point.”

  “I resent that!” I did. The boys had been impressed with the way I handled a camcorder, although frankly, I had no clue where that skill had come from. “‘Home movies’ implies it was done by amateurs. I’m a pro!”

  “A retired pro.”

  I jumped. How could Wills always enter a room so silently? “I meant when it comes to filming.” I scowled at him. “You know I don’t do that anymore. And, y’know, there are people who would pay big bucks to see Delilah deep-throat Pretty Boy, even knowing she’s dead. What am I saying? Especially knowing she’s dead.”

  “Yeah, there are a lot of sickies out there.”

  “Geez, Wills….”

  “You know what it would do to me if you ever got hurt?”

  Just the thought seemed to devastate him. He had no idea what knowing that did to me. I’d never mattered that much to anyone. Oh, sure, the boys cared, but if I’d suddenly left, life would have gone on for them. Not that it would stop for Wills, but he’d miss me for longer than a day or two.

  Wills glanced at Vince. “I’d better go load the dishwasher. Good night, Mr. Vincent.”

  “Matheson.”

  I stared after him, admiring the way his jeans molded to his ass. “How did I get so lucky, Vince?”

  “Bascopolis, you want to shake a leg here? Some of us have work in the morning.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I took out the VHS cassette box and handed it to him. “Here you go.”

  “Is this the original?”

  “No. Wills suggested I put it in a safe-deposit box. Did you want the original?”

  “I’ll check this out and let you know.” He slid it into a pocket of his suit jacket.

  “Okay. By the way, the last of Delilah’s things were removed from your condo today.”

  “It’s about fucking time,” he muttered.

  “Yeah. I’ll have the carpets removed tomorrow, and then the painters can come in. Once that’s done, it will just be a matter of having your furniture delivered from storage.”

  “I ordered more.”

  “Huh? I thought you had everything you needed.” And it had almost taken an act of God to make sure the condo was decently furnished. “What did you get?”

  “Some stuff for the dining room.”

  “But you weren’t planning on having a dining room.” It was a nice room, and I’d been tempted to give him a smack when he told me he planned to turn it into a library. Not that I had anything against books, but that room deserved an elegant table, eight chairs, and a buffet. And a hutch would have been the icing on the cake.

  He shrugged. How could the man be so blasé about it?

  “Let me know if you want some advice placing it.” I walked with him to the apartment door.

  “I’d appreciate it. I don’t have time to play with furniture.”

  Yeah, he was always busy with work. “Say, uh… Vince? I remember you always worked through the holidays.”

  “Yeah?”

  “It would be really great if Wills had Thanksgiving off.” I’d never wheedled Vince before, and I wasn’t certain if it would work, but I was willing to give it a try.

  “I’ll see what the schedule is like.”

  “Cool. Thanks!” That was as good as a guarantee. I was so pleased, I hugged him. He stood there and let me. “And I won’t even bitch about you going shopping without me.” I couldn’t resist kissing his cheek.

  “Theo....”

  I let him go and stepped back, grinning. “I’m not sure yet what we’ll be doing, but I’d really like to spend the day with him. If we stay home, would you like to come down for some turkey? No, wait a second, you’ll have moved. Well, would you like to come over?”

  “Thanks, but I have plans. Oh, ha fucking ha.” I’d staggered back with my hand on my chest as if I were having a heart attack. The only plans he’d ever had involved work. “I’ll get this tape back to you as soon as I can.”

  “Keep it. I can make more.”

  “Yeah? Thanks.”

  “No problem. G’night, Vince.”

  “’Night, Theo.”


  I closed the door and went looking for my lover. There was a couch with our names on it.

  THANKSGIVING WAS just around the corner. Vince had been able to get Wills that day off but not the day after, so we wouldn’t be able to spend the holiday with either of our families.

  “Want to invite the ladies from downstairs to join us?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s Thanksgiving?”

  I sighed. “Okay, babe.” I didn’t want him to know I was reluctant to have those man-eaters around him. Plus, there was Sable, who was French and a cordon bleu-trained cook.

  “Cool. I’ll go down and ask them.”

  “I’ll go with you.” I followed him out of the apartment.

  He gave me an amused smile. “Think I can’t protect myself?”

  “It was a good thing you weren’t wearing those 501 jeans of yours when you fixed the drain. I saw the way Gus was looking at you.”

  “Oh, yeah? And how was that?”

  “Like you were Red Riding Hood and she was the Big Bad Wolf.” Plus, she was a redhead.

  “I can take care of myself, babe.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  We could hear a good deal of bustle going on in the apartment on the second floor. Wills pressed the doorbell. Unlike our chimes, it was an ordinary “ding dong.”

  Gus answered the door. “I’m sorry, didn’t you get the message? We’re not…. Oh, hi, guys. Hey, girls, it’s our landlord and his cutie!”

  “Well, tell them we said hi and get back here and finish packing!” That was Layla, not that I’d normally have recognized her voice, but it couldn’t have been Sable—no French accent.

  “I am finished!” Gus called back, saccharine laced with strychnine. She fluttered her lashes at Wills. “What can we do for you, sugar?”

  He smiled at her, and I cleared my throat, folded my arms across my chest, and tapped my foot.

  He turned his smile on me and bumped his shoulder against mine before turning back to Gus. “We just wanted to invite you up for dinner on Thursday.” He didn’t notice her blank look, but I did.

  “It’s Thanksgiving,” I informed her.

  “Already? My, this year has flown.”

  “Yeah, it’s really zipped by.”

  Wills sent an admonishing look my way, then turned back to her. “Would you like to join us?”

  “Thank you. That’s really nice of you, but we’re going up to Killington for the week.”

  “I’ve skied there.” Wills skied? In the snow? I shivered at the thought of him flying over moguls and curving around downhill turns. “Beautiful place to spend the holiday.”

  “It isn’t a holiday. Not for us, anyway. We’ll be working.” She smiled faintly. “We’re supposed to sit by the fireplace in the lodge and look delectable.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult a job.”

  “Oh, well, too bad.” I frowned at Wills. “They have plans, Wills.”

  “You’re so sweet. I’d ask you and Sweetcheeks to come in for a… drink—” She fluttered her lashes more. Jesus, she was going to stir up a windstorm! “—but….”

  Wills’s easygoing smile vanished. “Theo,” he corrected sharply.

  “Of course.” She sighed, and her expression became a combination of wry and wistful. “Well, our ride will be here any minute now.”

  “We’ll just be going….” I started to back away.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, boys.”

  “You too.”

  Wills trotted up the stairs, and I took the time following him to admire his ass. He paused at the top of the stairs, glanced over his shoulder, and caught me staring. That grin curled his lips.

  “You’re glad we’ll be spending the day alone together, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Busted. Are you disappointed in me?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m selfish when it comes to you?”

  “Never. Inviting the ladies downstairs was the right thing to do, Theo, and you were willing to go along with that because I asked you.” He pulled me against him, his hands warm on my back, and rubbed his lips back and forth over mine. “I’ll tell you a secret, babe. Well, maybe not really a secret. I’m glad they had other plans. I’m glad we’ll be alone too.”

  ALTHOUGH WE wouldn’t be able to see our families, we called them, and while Wills spent more than an hour on the phone, settled on the couch with the phone under his ear, grinning at the ceiling and talking to each member of his family, my call home was relatively brief and stilted.

  “Hullo, Teodore.”

  “Hi, Poppa. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “Yes, happy Thanksgiving.” A long moment of silence while we both searched for something more to say.

  “Uh… how has the fishing been going?”

  “Is well. We won’t starve.”

  “That’s good. Um….”

  “How is weather?”

  “It’s the usual for November.”

  “That is good.” He didn’t ask what the usual was. “I put your momma on.”

  I sighed in relief.

  “Teo. Happy Thanksgiving.”

  “The same to you, Ma.”

  “I am disappointed you cannot come to spend the weekend with us. Will you be seeing William’s family?”

  “No, Wills has work tomorrow. He just called his family.”

  “And you have tomorrow off?”

  “Yeah, Ma. I’m my own boss. I can make my own holidays.”

  “Humph. You have enough food?”

  “We have plenty. We won’t starve. Is… uh… Is Casey there? I’d like to….”

  “Acacia is spending the afternoon with her boyfriend’s family. They will come back here for dinner.”

  “Okay. Well, I’d better go now. I have to baste the turkey. Tell Casey I said hi.”

  “One moment, please. I wish to speak to your young man.”

  “Uh, Momma….” I sent a panic-stricken look Wills’s way. If I had a hard time talking to her, what would my lover find to say?

  “What’s up, babe?”

  I covered the receiver. “Ma wants to talk to you.”

  He smiled and took the phone. “Hi, Mrs. Bascopolis. Happy Thanksgiving.” He glanced at me and made a shooing motion. “I thought you had to go baste the turkey?”

  I scowled, but he knew I wasn’t serious, and he laughed at me. I went into the kitchen, took care of the turkey, and found some other things to keep me busy. After about ten minutes, when Wills still hadn’t come in, I went back to the living room.

  He was still on the phone. “That’s right,” he was saying. “He was the best-looking Zorro I’ve ever seen. Yes, even handsomer than Antonio Banderas. No, no one gave us a hard time, Mrs. B. Don’t you think I can take care of my guy?”

  Well, damn. His conversation was going as smoothly as if he were talking to his own family. And then I forgot that as I realized he’d called me his guy. I liked that.

  “No, I’m afraid we won’t be able to come down for Christmas. The company I work for is a slave driver, Mrs. B. I only have the day off. When I get my vacation, I promise we’ll fly down. Oh, Theo’s here. Would you like to talk to him again? … Okay. It was nice talking to you too. Have a good day. … Hmm? Oh, I can promise you that. Our kitchen looks like Theo’s ready to feed an army! Bye, now.” He handed the phone back to me.

  “Ma?”

  “Your William is a wonderful boy, Teo. You make sure you treat him well, you hear me?”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  “I must go now. The turkey is not done, but Poppa wants to sample it. It will give him worms.”

  “Okay. Bye—”

  “Teo, I love you.”

  “I… I love you too, Momma.”

  “Good-bye, my son.”

  I could barely whisper, “Bye.”

  Wills took the phone from me and hung up. “You okay, babe?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” I sniffed hard. Dammit, why was it I cried at t
he drop of a hat, but Wills never shed a tear? “I… uh… I gotta…. Dinner….”

  “Come on.” He tipped my chin up and kissed me.

  I held on to him for a minute, then ran my fingers down his arm and twined them with his fingers, and we went into the kitchen.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Peel and slice the sweet potatoes.”

  “How thick do you want the slices?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll be putting them through the ricer once I’m done boiling them.”

  “Aye, aye, skipper.” He threw me a salute and picked up the peeler and the first sweet potato. “So what are you going to do about the apartment upstairs?” It was empty now, since Vince had moved into his condo, no longer pink, last week.

  “We, babe. It belongs to both of us.”

  “Yeah?” He ducked his head, but I’d seen the pleased smile on his face.

  “I thought we’d see if Sherwood wants it as a short-term executive rental.”

  “Sherwood?” He picked up another sweet potato and began peeling it.

  “That’s the company that rents the first two floors.”

  “And if not?”

  “We’ll find another company. Babe, it’s DC, and we’re offering it turnkey. Some company or other will jump at it! Now, how are those potatoes coming along?”

  I MADE a traditional dinner—turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole, biscuits, salad, corn, green beans, and three different kinds of pies for dessert: apple crumb, pumpkin, and coconut custard.

  Wills had brought home a white zinfandel, and he kept me company while I worked in the kitchen, fetching the ingredients I called for, husking the corn, snapping the ends off the beans, and sipping the wine and stealing occasional kisses.

  “Time to set the table, babe.”

  “Got it.” He snatched another kiss and strolled out of the room, humming softly under his breath.

  He did a great job with the table—the Irish linen tablecloth, the good china and flatware, water goblets and wineglasses, and a centerpiece of autumn leaves, gourds, and mums.

  We ate until we were stuffed, then spent the rest of the afternoon nuzzling on the couch and watching football. That evening, instead of having dinner, we had each other.