by Kyle Baxter
“I’ve thought about it, but I like this town. I have friends and family here—just like you do.”
“Bonnie—”
“Mama and Papa want you to stay and take over the restaurant, and you’re obviously happy here. What do you have to go back to—really?”
Move back here? It ricocheted through his mind. It wasn’t an unpleasant enterprise but there was so much going on at the moment. It was hard to make a rational decision when everything was so chaotic. They needed to get Mama home first.
“I have a life in New York,” he said softly.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with David. How is that going?” she asked.
He eyed her carefully. She was up to something. “It’s very familiar.”
“Things may be familiar, but they’re not the same. You can both make different choices. The question is, how do you feel about David now?”
He looked to make sure Eric wasn’t eavesdropping, but the boy was absorbed in his tablet. “We almost kissed last night.”
She jabbed a finger at him. “Boy, you need to get on that. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
He ducked his head. “I know. I mean, he’s all I think about.” The heat rose in his face. “But I have a question for you.”
She sighed. “If it’s about Justin, I’d rather not get into it.”
He chuckled. Clearly the guy was on her mind. “We’ll put a pin in that—but ‘you need to get on that. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.’”
She opened her mouth to say something, but confusion took over her face and she clamped it shut. Maybe he did have decisions to make about his life here, but so did she.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Make Your Own Kind of Music
It was hours before David had a free moment to check the work logs. It was just as he thought. Cursing under his breath, he stormed out of the station, looking for Zooey. She was the charge nurse for the day.
He found her exiting a patient’s room and confronted her. “Cheryl’s first on-call, isn’t she?”
“I guess?” Zooey brushed past him and into the nurses’ station. David kept hot on her heels.
“Why didn’t you call her and not me?” He fumed. He couldn’t believe this. Is this about the other night?
“David, we needed someone,” she said sharply. After a moment, she softened a bit. “Look, if I made a mistake, I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt your personal time, but that’s how it is when you’re on-call.”
Mistakes happened, but there was something in the way she said “personal” that irritated him. David was about to lay into her when Alex and Eric walked up the corridor.
“Hey, Dad!” The nugget ran up to him.
Forcing his face into a mask of normalcy, he picked up his son and gave him a quick peck. Coming around the desk, he walked with them. Noticing his distress, Alex gave him a questioning glance. With a tiny shake of his head, he dodged the question on his friend’s face.
“What are you guys up to?”
“Visiting my aunt. Mini Coop wanted to come.” Apprehension appeared in Alex’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have checked with you first.”
“It’s fine. This more than okay. But I have to get back to work.” He set the boy down and pushed him to Alex.
“Gotcha. We’ll check in before we leave.” Taking Eric’s hand, Alex led him away. Halfway down the hall, they turned and waved.
Zooey appeared beside him, making him start. “Again?” she scoffed. “This is the same guy that ran away—without a word?”
He bit his tongue, but he wanted to tell her it was none of her business. Turning away to calm himself down, he repeated his mantra: I love my job. It pays so well. I love my job. It pays so well. After all, he applied for the supervisor position. He didn’t need to get into an altercation with a fellow employee on the floor. UGH.
“I hope you know what you’re doing. Eric is awfully impressionable.”
“That’s none of your business,” he spat. What she said was true, but between the two, he’d rather his son get attached to Alex than her, however brief his stay, especially given her change of attitude. If this was the way she handled disappointment . . . Eeek.
He contemplated complaining about her, but they were between supervisors and not much would be done. And she was right; that was life on-call.
Realizing it had been a while since he checked in on Mama, he went to her room. Eric fidgeted in a chair, waving when he entered her room. Alex talked to Mama.
“Is everything set up for the Christmas party?” she asked.
He held her hand. “The carpet layers are almost done. We decorate it next week.”
“And your house?”
Pinoy let out a sigh of exasperation. “We were just there—”
She poked him in the stomach. It made David smile. She was relentless.
“Ouch . . . I mean, we got it cleaned up, and I’m all moved in. I am out of your attic.” He turned to Eric. “Right, buddy?”
The boy nodded enthusiastically. “We need to put up Christmas decorations.”
“Oh, you should.” She clapped her hands. “Make it a home now that you’re back.” She gave her nephew a hopeful eye. The message was clear: she wanted Alex to stay.
“Mamá,” Alex pleaded.
“She’s right,” David said. And they all turned, surprised to see him standing in the door. He gave a little wave. “You should set it up, put some pictures on the wall. If you’re gonna be there a few weeks, then live there, decorate it for Christmas.” And maybe we can get you to stay for good.
“I can help.” Eric scooted forward in his chair.
“I couldn’t do it without you.” Alex reached over to tickle him and the boy clenched into a ball, squealing in delight.
“Okay, it’s getting late.” Alex picked their coats off the back of the chair and threw them over his arm. “I need to get this guy home and start dinner.”
Jumping up, Eric leaned onto the bed to give Mama a goodbye kiss. Alex followed suit.
Her face brightened with the attention. “My boys.”
“I’ll be home in a little bit. I’m almost done here,” David said as they walked up to him. He resisted the urge to give Alex a kiss on the cheek.
“Hold on.” Alex reached up and wiped an errant eyelash off of his face. Patting his chest, he gave him a squint. With Eric skipping beside him, Alex walked down the hall to the elevators.
Turning back into the room, David found a beaming Mama Capili.
“You boys are so cute.”
#
Returning home, David hung his coat on a hook and doffed his boots. Space was hard to find with a full house, and it warmed his heart.
The on-call shift was a fill-in, only four hours, so he got out at 7:00 p.m. Zooey avoided him as best as she could. Good choice.
He just knew she called him in intentionally to ruin his day, and all because he turned her down. No, I set her straight. This petty, vindictive streak of hers was revealing. She wasn’t well-liked and he ignored it. Hospitals were gossip mills, but she really was a Mean Girl. Yuck. But until the decision came down about the supervisor position, he needed to keep the peace.
Bonnie sat in front of the television, working on her laptop. Her hands flew over the keyboard. A documentary provided background noise.
“Hey, where is everyone?”
She waved from the couch toward the kitchen but otherwise ignored him. Friends. Leaving her to work, he found Alex in the kitchen making dinner. Eric sat at the counter and they were deep in conversation.
“What’s going on in here?” he asked in a stern tone, and they jumped in surprise.
With a laugh, Alex waved the wooden spoon like a wand. “I’m making dinner.”
David sat beside his son. “I’m just amazed you cook.”
“You know very well I cook.”
“I know you used to.” He scrunched up his face. “But now you seem more like someone who has t
heir food made for them.”
“Is that an insult? I’m not quite sure.”
“An observation.” Grinning, David mussed up Eric’s hair.
“Hey!” The nugget pushed him off. “I spent a lot of time on my hair.”
Both men looked at the boy and each other. Was that a quote? No, he couldn’t have seen Saturday Night Fever. David pointed a finger at his friend. “He got that from you.”
“Probably.”
He made his way around the counter to examine the dish on the stove. “What are you cooking? Do you even know how to cook anything other than Italian?”
“You’re hysterical.” Alex pointed to the Dutch oven. “This is my special Red Beans, Anne Rice with andouille sausage.” Holding up the spoon, he gave David a bite.
“Delicious.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “How’s the house. You good to go?”
“It’s habitable enough, but I need to run by the restaurant and steal the sheets off the pullout sofa.”
Leaning against the counter, he watched his friend fuss over the stove. “Just take a set of mine.”
“I have Batman sheets you can have,” Eric volunteered.
“Thank you, but they may be a little small for my bed.” He ran around the counter to tickle the boy, earning him a squeal. The mood was light and happy and then David’s phone rang.
“Bet you it’s Zooey.” Alex leaned over to Eric.
“I’m not taking that bet.”
David declined the call with a theatrical flourish. “I’m no longer on-call and I’m officially turning off my phone.”
“Do you think Zooey can handle the deprivation?” Alex asked.
He set his phone on the counter. “Deprivation? You’re so weird.”
Alex’s phone rang. Picking it up, he sighed at the caller ID. David moved in, grabbed the phone, and scurried away with a snicker.
“What are you doing? Give me that.” Alex dived after him.
“No phones at dinner. New house rule,” David cackled, dodging him.
“Give it here. It’s Enrico.”
Eric laughed at the two of them as they chased each other around the kitchen table.
David answered the phone. “Enrico! Hey, it’s David. Alex will be out of touch for at least an hour. We’re having dinner.”
Alex grabbed him when he stopped to turn off the phone. Wrestling him for it, Alex pinned him to the wall. He held both of David’s hands over his head. Eric giggled even harder in the background.
With a shock, David became aware of their closeness. They stood chest to chest, arms entwined, and other places touched as well. The vein in Alex’s neck pulsed, hypnotizing David. Light-headed, he bent to kiss him.
“Oh!” Bonnie stood in the door, an amazed look on her face.
David and Alex froze in place for a moment, with Eric wide-eyed. The two men flinched.
“Stop. Don’t. Move.” Bonnie grabbed a giggling Eric and backed out of the room, pulling him with her.
They were statues, motionless, their breathing deep and ragged. The heat radiating off of Alex’s body felt like a furnace burning into him. God, he smells so good. Their lips hovered over each other’s, but the moment passed and they parted.
“No phones.” He handed the device back to Alex.
Nodding, Alex turned away. David noticed him rearranging the lump in the front of his slacks and smiled to himself.
“I need a shower,” he choked out, his voice husky in his own ear. I need a long, cold shower.
#
After dinner Bonnie left for an early night at home. David suspected she was fleeing to finish her work in quiet. The house was chaotic and loud, and he loved every minute of it.
He tried not to think about the wrestling match with Pinoy. They did that when they were teens, playing grab-ass or having tickle fights, and even then they ended with awkward moments and hidden erections. What was he going to do?
Bundling up, they took a stroll through Rosner Park. Festooned with lights and decorations, it was glorious. Edgedale loved Christmas. The homes bordering the park went all out too. One of the few exceptions was Alex’s house, and it stuck out like a sore thumb. David decorated his own home right after Thanksgiving.
“You should decorate your house.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “Says the man without a Christmas tree.”
“You have a point, Counselor.” David rubbed his hands together and, holding them up to his mouth, blew a warm breath between them. “How about we go tree shopping tomorrow night?”
“I have to work at the theater.”
David put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. “They laid the carpet in the lower lobby today. That means you need to stay off it tomorrow. There’s nothing for you to do there.”
A rumble escaped Alex’s throat. “I hate it when—”
He grinned. “I’m right?”
“You’re exhausting.” Alex smiled as he said it and put his arm around David’s waist. Eric took Alex’s free hand and they walked happily through the park.
People were out and about in the crisp, cold night. Snow collected in the trees, and they were due for a new downfall soon. Families laughed and smiled. Carts sold food. Popcorn, pretzel, and chestnut vendors did brisk business. There was even a roaming Sinterklaas.
Making their way to the center of the park and its statue of Rodin’s The Thinker, they found a large group milling about. A lone cellist played Cohen’s Hallelujah, a hat on the ground in front of her.
“The tree lighting is Sunday night. Are you coming?” David asked.
“Please.” Eric fidgeted.
Alex shivered in the cold. “If the restaurant doesn’t need me. I mean, I feel like I should be helping out more . . .”
“You need a general manager with Mama retiring.” David’s tone was pointed.
The cellist finished the number to exuberant applause and several people put coins in the woman’s hat. Walking over, Eric did likewise. The cellist bowed to the crowd, then played a new piece. People had cellphones and cameras out.
“They’re filming.” There were more people here than he expected.
“She’s good,” Alex agreed.
“No, it’s a flash mob.” As he said it, a young man stepped forward with a violin and accompanied the cellist. One by one, more players joined in until there was a small orchestra.
“They’re from the university. Peep the logo.” He pointed at several of the musicians’ scarves.
“I know this,” Alex said.
David picked up Eric and put him on his shoulders. “It’s Beethoven’s Ode to Joy.” He ran a hand over his cheek.
“Are you crying?” Alex nudged him.
“Shut up.” Putting a hand on the top of Alex’s head, he gave it a squeeze. His friend could be such a butthead sometimes. “It’s beautiful.”
Alex looked at him, his own eyes welling up. “You’re right. It is.”
When the impromptu concert finished, they walked away from the park and headed back through the Quarter. They passed Lacey’s Bakery, a fixture on Main Street since their childhood.
Fronted by a large picture window with a bench in front, the bakery regularly displayed a selection of delicious pastries, though now, at the end of the day, the pickings were scarce. Mr. Lacey walked in front of the building, sweeping the thin layer of snow off the sidewalk. He stepped aside and gave them the evil eye when they passed.
Alex leaned down to Eric and pointed across the street. “We used to hide over there and throw snowballs at him as he cleared away the snow.”
The boy’s eyes went wide.
“We were brats,” David explained. “We shouldn’t have done that.”
“He hated us,” Alex agreed. Something hit him in the back, making him stagger forward. “What was that?”
Brushing the snowball off his friend, David turned to see the baker grinning. “Mr. Lacey?”
Laughing, the man threw another snowball, hitting him square in t
he chest. Eric scurried to the window to hide by the bench.
Packing a quick snowball, Alex returned fire at Mr. Lacey. The older man danced around while he lobbed snowballs at both of them.
“You’re gonna get it!”
“Hey!”
There was a chorus of laughter among the passersby. An errant snowball hit one man, and he took it on himself to join in. In a heartbeat, it became a full-fledged snowball fight taking up half of the wide block. Shrieks of delight echoed off the buildings.
Lasting a good twenty minutes, it eventually wound down with laughter and hugs all around. David and Alex went to cleaning the sidewalk in front of the bakery. After the years of tormenting the man, it was the least they could do.
Mr. Lacey brought out a tray with hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies. Eric toddled along beside him.
Eric raced up to his father. “I got to go in back and see the kitchen. I want to be a baker!”
“Well, you can come by and help me make cookies anytime you want.” The round man squeezed the boy’s shoulder. Lacey looked from David to Alex and smiled. “I’ve missed you boys.”
“Mr. Lacey, I was in here last week.” David took a cup and gave him a cockeyed glance.
The older man tilted his head in Alex’s direction. “This is the David Cooper I know and I haven’t seen him in a long time.” He patted his shoulder. “My sweet boys.”
“We were a menace.”
Mr. Lacey crunched on a cookie and nodded. “But you were my menace.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Finally
David walked in to check on Mama Capili. She was sleeping peacefully. He’d read the latest entries on her chart and sighed, wishing he could talk to Alex about this.
God, this sucks. He needs to know. They were going to talk to him after she was released, but David, being privy to her condition and Alex not, felt wrong, even if he only knew by virtue of her being a patient under his care.
Grabbing the plastic container that was his lunch box, he headed to the cafeteria. Alex sat there alone. Refilling his double-walled water bottle, he joined his friend. Gone was the buoyant mood from last night. Seeing his aunt must’ve been hard on him.