by Kyle Baxter
Tandi folded her arms in front of her. “And the opposite happened, and it still ended.”
“I rejected him and he ran away to New York.” Leaning against the counter, David let out a groan. “Now I feel even worse.”
“Don’t take all that on.” Tandi pointed a finger at him. “Emil was the one who drove him away. You and Bonnie may have been the only people keeping him here. He got away from his father and he thrived. Alex has done very well for himself in New York. He’s a partner in the catering company he works for.”
David walked back around the counter and sat beside her. “He’s a partner?” His heart sank. Alex was definitely going back to New York then.
“I ran a background check before we asked him to run the party. I’m not an amateur.” She tapped his shoulder. “Always do your due diligence. Alex is very good at what he does.”
David slumped, putting his head in his arms. “His father beat him and threw him out, and I rejected him. No wonder he ran away and never spoke to us again.”
Reaching over, Tandi smoothed his hair with her fingers. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
Lifting his head up, he faced her. “I’ve missed him so much, Mom. Everyone said Adriana and I were high school sweethearts, but it wasn’t true. Alex was my high school sweetheart.”
A sniffling sound caught his attention. Turning, he found Eric crying just outside the kitchen. David picked him up.
“I’m sorry,” the boy sobbed.
David kissed his son’s cheek. “About what?”
“Everything.” The boy clutched him tightly. “I didn’t understand.”
Bouncing him in his arms, David looked the nugget in the eye. “Understand what?”
Eric put his head on his father’s shoulder. “You love him too. You really do.”
He shared a glance with his mother. “I have to make this right, with Alex.”
Chapter Sixty
King of Wishful Thinking
Bonnie ran a hand through her curly hair and took a sip of cocoa. “Does David know your father beat you that day?”
“No, I was too afraid to tell him.”
“He hated your dad.” She bobbed her head.
“David would have killed him. I ran straight to him. We already planned on me staying over for the weekend. With my dad the way he was, I always kept an overnight bag in my car. David’s dad was just reelected and his parents were off somewhere. Adriana was with her folks. They moved to Florida after we graduated. You were out-of-pocket too. There was a lot going on. It was our own private Christmas.” Leaning on his elbows, he picked up his own cup of hot chocolate and took a draft.
She tossed her hair. “Very romantic.”
His eyebrows raised. “Maybe too romantic. Anyway, we imbibed some spiked eggnog and we were decorating the tree on Christmas Eve—like the Coopers do every year. David stepped under the mistletoe and something came over me. It was like a scene in a movie. He was the handsome, big man on campus and I was the scrawny, awkward theater kid, and I kissed him. I knew immediately it was a mistake. David pushed me away and said he didn’t think of me like that.”
“Ouch. He certainly didn’t mean it. You were dumb kids.”
Alex looked into his cup, avoiding her eyes. “Something broke inside me. It was too much, my dad’s abuse, David’s rejection, everything. I jumped in my car and drove all the way to New York City and slept in my car for Christmas.”
She came around the counter and put a hand on his shoulder. “Was that the only time your dad hit you?”
He scratched his head. “No, but he only did it when he was drunk.”
“As if that’s an excuse.” She searched his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us that was going on?”
“I was ashamed.” He rinsed out his cup in the sink and turned to face her. “After my mom passed, Dad checked out on me, resented me. Thank God for Aunt Claire and Uncle Felix.”
Folding her arms in front of her, she watched him with soft eyes. “I wish you’d told us. You could’ve stayed with me.”
“Bonnie, I love you, but you had enough going on.” He went to the kitchen table and sat in a chair. “That was the same year you came out.”
“You need to tell David this.” She tapped on the counter.
He scoffed at her insistence. “What good would it do?”
“The big lug is in pain too.” She opened a cabinet door and fished out a tin of sugar cookies. “He still blames himself for you leaving, and he deserves to know the truth.”
“It wasn’t his fault.” He sat forward. “It was a confluence of events. Him, my father, my wanting to come out, it was everything. In some ways, David did me a favor. If I hadn’t left, I might still be stuck in a cycle of violence with my father . . . or dead.”
“That’s charming.” She held out the tin to him, but he shook his head. “You’re missing out. These are good.” She munched on one.
“Mini Coop and I made them.” One side of his mouth curled up.
“What do you have to go back to in NYC? Here you have family and a person who adores you.”
“I have a good job, a condo, and a 401k.” He raised a finger for each point.
With the tin of cookies in hand, she sat in the chair opposite him. “These are things you can have here, and let’s be real.” Bonnie gestured around her. “This is a nice home. It feels like you now, not your father.”
He followed her glance around the room. “It does. But what about David? What about Zooey?” Leaning back, he slumped in the chair. “Why does he put up with her?”
She sputtered a laugh. “Have you met David?”
“He really has the biggest heart, but she does not deserve his friendship.”
She touched his arm. “Would you have him any other way?”
“No,” he said with a slow head shake. “I love him just the way he is.”
“And he loves you, and you owe each other a second chance. You can’t keep holding what happened back then against him.”
“I don’t hold it against him, honestly.” He rubbed the back of his neck and took a breath. “In fact, I was all ready to talk to David about us and, ugh, declare my undying love.”
Making an overexaggerated gasp, she clutched her hand to her heart.
“Not funny,” Alex said. He stood and walked to the door.
“Well, you’re being dramatic.”
Giving her a scowl, he said, “Fine, but I was working my way there.”
“And what happened?”
“The Christmas tree lighting, seeing them kiss reminded me of last year and Todd. I know she ambushed him, but it threw me. It made me doubt everything I’d been feeling.” Turning to face the wall, he kicked at the baseboard.
“That’s perfectly understandable, but if you don’t get past it, you’re going to miss out on something great.”
“I’m trying. But it’s not easy. It was a tough year.” Stepping out of the kitchen, he moved into the living room. The warmth of the crackling fire was comforting. Standing in front of it, he stretched his hands out before him.
She came and stood opposite him, behind the sofa. “You have to talk this out before you run off again.”
He flinched. “That’s what he said. He accused me of trying to run away because it got . . . difficult.”
“Make sure you aren’t, okay? Now, I have to get back to the restaurant and close up.” She grabbed her bag and moved to the foyer. Max trotted close behind.
“There’s also a cute guy there, wanting to keep you warm.” He gave her an exaggerated wink.
She blushed as she slid on her coat. “He’s queer, you know. Justin? Like David, he identifies as pan.”
He helped her bundle up, throwing her scarf around her head.
“Capili’s has a lot of our folk: me, Justin, Maria, even Chef Lutian. Did you wonder why?”
“It hasn’t occurred to me,” he said.
“Your aunt made it a safe space, and word got around.” Pulling her keys out of
her purse, she turned them over in her hand. “It was because of you. Your leaving affected a lot of us. We made changes, the restaurant, the community, now the CYA. Maybe it’s time you came home and helped out.”
He held out his hand for support as she slipped off the house slippers and slid into her boots.
Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she looked back into the living room. “You’ve done a lot of work here. You even bought a wireless printer?” She nodded toward the device on a side table in the corner.
Putting his hands in his front pockets, he dipped his head. “It’s for work.”
“Uh-huh. Face it, you’ve made it a home. Is this the work of someone who wants to leave?” With a kiss on the cheek, she was out the door and into the night.
He and Max padded back into the living room and he returned to packing his duffle bag.
#
Pacing in front of the movie theater the next morning, Alex shivered. A cold front moved in overnight and it was frigid. Max looked up at him expectantly, tail wagging. His human did a lot of pacing in the last several days.
Before long, Mike Bowen’s car pulled up. The big man stepped out and they shook hands.
“Thank you for coming out to meet me.”
“You said it was urgent, and the owner indicated I should afford you every courtesy.” He grinned sheepishly. Last week he accidentally revealed the identity of the anonymous owner: Tandi Cooper.
Alex escorted him around the building, examining every nook, corner, and cranny. Mike pointed out the venue’s prime location while he countered with the damaged asphalt in the parking lot and the roof in need of repair. Max trotted along with them, adding snorts and sniffs as his own commentary.
They completed their inspection quickly. It was too cold to stay outside for long. After removing their jackets and boots, they toured the inside. To his dismay, Max was locked in the coat check.
“You know the property really well,” Mike said, then snapped his fingers. “Of course, you worked here when we were in high school.” They fist-bumped.
“Now, all the film projection equipment comes with it?”
“Some is in storage, but yes, it comes with the theater and the adjacent property.”
“The adjacent—” Alex stared at the locked door on the far wall, which led to the building next door. In all his years working here, he never went over there. It held a boxing gym and then retail and office spaces for a while. Yes, it would do.
“The party is tomorrow night. Why did you want to meet?” the big man asked.
“I have a proposition for the owner, but first, let’s go check out that property.” He pointed to the door to the second building.
This tour was short; he quickly learned what he needed. Afterward they walked to Lacey’s Bakery for coffee and Danishes, his treat for dragging Mike out so early, while Max unhappily waited at the theater.
“You just want to keep me from getting back into fighting shape.” The man patted his round belly. In high school he was one of the class studs, fit and handsome. Mike was still handsome, if not quite as trim.
“Nonsense.” Alex grinned. “I know a lot of guys who’d love a shot at you.”
Mike guffawed and blushed. After their Danishes, they finished their business and Mike left with the promise to get back to Alex as soon as he could.
In his truck with Max, Alex drove the six blocks to Capili’s. His aunt and uncle were just pulling into the parking lot.
Bringing them into the restaurant, he took chairs off one of the tables and they sat down. Max took position at Alex’s feet. Pulling a folder with paperwork out of his messenger bag, he handed it to his uncle and aunt.
“This is what you wanted to talk to us about?” Papa asked after perusing the pages for several minutes. The man was sharp and not usually given his due because of his sometimes broken English. Of course, he spoke three languages and knew some of even more, so one or more of them not being textbook perfect was understandable.
Mama frowned but took Alex’s pen and signed. As determined as she was to keep working, Alex expected more of an argument. She sighed and slid the papers over to Papa.
“This a big step? Are you sure?” Uncle Felix asked.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Alex said. “For all of us.”
Mama took Papa’s hand in hers while he signed the paperwork and said, “I never thought this would happen.”
Stuffing the papers in his messenger bag, he stood. “I have a lot of errands to run before I drop this off with the lawyer. Then I have to take care of this guy.” He gave Max a scratch behind the ears.
“He’s a sweet dog,” Papa agreed, and Max licked his hand.
Climbing in his truck, Alex opened the reminders app on his phone and scrolled through the list. He talked to the realtor and Mama and Papa. Now he needed to run home before going to the shelter. Last night he’d called Five Points Catering to confirm that he was returning to New York City.
Chapter Sixty-One
Constant Craving
With a heavy sigh, David poured cereal into two bowls and set the milk on the counter. Today was not a French toast and eggs kind of day.
He was grateful he traded away his shift, consequences for his promotion be damned. The events over the last several days showed him Eric needed extra attention. They hardly talked last night. Dead tired after everything that happened, they warmed up the spaghetti and retired early. Several times during the night, David woke in a panic and ran to check the boy’s room to make sure he was there.
Alex was still radio-silent and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. When his mother left in the jitney last night, he took the opportunity to retrieve Alex’s knit cap, not wanting to leave it to the dirt and the elements.
After tucking Eric in, he sat in front of the fire and held onto it for longer than he would ever admit to another living person. He certainly did not sleep with it.
I need to talk with him today.
“Buddy, time for breakfast,” he called out. Relief washed over him when the young boy trudged in and climbed onto his favorite stool. It would take time to get past this.
The boy wiped sleep from his eyes. “Morning.”
David slid a bowl of cinnamon-flavored cereal in front of his son. After finishing his own, he rinsed it in the sink and walked to the living room.
“I’m getting the paper.” Pulling his bathrobe tighter, he opened the front door, stepped out, and picked up the newspaper. It was colder than yesterday, and a layer of fresh snow covered everything. Thank goodness Eric went somewhere warm last night when he ran away. The kid had some sense.
Something caught the corner of his eye. A plain cardboard box sat on the lower step. It wasn’t covered in snow, so it couldn’t have sat there long. He picked it up and shook it. It didn’t rattle. Back inside, he opened it to find the green sweater he loaned Alex. Seeing it here, abandoned on his front stoop, hit him like a punch in the gut. What was going on?
Staring at it like it was some alien thing, he jumped when the doorbell rang. He yanked open the door. “Alex?”
Bonnie brushed past him. “Not quite.”
“What’s going on?”
“Alex is leaving.” Bonnie stopped in the foyer. “He was packing when I was at his place last night. What are you going to do about it?”
No. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Alex leave. Not without talking to me first. Holding the sweater tight to him, David shouted toward the kitchen, “Eric, let’s go! We gotta run.”
“I gotta do the dishes!”
“Leave it for later.”
Eyes wide, Eric stuck his head out of the door. “What’s wrong? We never leave without doing the dishes.”
Like a maniac, David drove through the suburban streets. Bonnie left in her own car. He was unsure where she was going and didn’t ask.
They slowed down as they passed Alex’s house. With no sign of his truck, they moved on to the theater. It was closed and emp
ty. Panic started to rise. He can’t be gone already. He can’t. They drove on to the restaurant.
There was no sign of Alex’s SUV, but his aunt and uncle’s van was there. They must have a clue where he was. David jumped out of his car. Eric followed in silence.
From his vantage point in the parking lot, he saw Mama walking around the inside of the restaurant, opening the shutters. Frowning, he wished she was taking it easy, but he knew better.
Opening the door, she leaned out and waved. “For goodness sake, come in, boys. I have coffee brewing.”
“Do you know—” He rushed in the door.
“Sit,” she commanded.
“Mama—”
“David, I said sit.” She pointed to a table. “Or I will smack you with my shoe.”
He knew that tone of her voice and sank into the chair. He’d seen her do that to Alex when he was particularly naughty—he deserved it, but still.
Eric almost giggled, but a glare silenced him. Papa took the boy’s hand and they walked around the restaurant, taking the chairs off the tables.
After a moment, he heard Papa say, “Uno, dos, tres.”
And Eric repeated, “Uno, dos, tres.”
Mama sat two cups down and joined him. “Now, what’s eating you, boy? I know that face.”
“I’ve been in love with Alex for most of my life,” David said. It made her laugh. He loved her laugh.
“Everyone knows that, dear. It’s not some deep, dark secret.”
“I don’t want him to leave.”
“Neither do I, querido niño. I love having him here.” Tapping the spoon on the lip of the cup, she set it aside.
David examined his own coffee, untouched. “But I’m afraid. I want him to stay because he wants to.” He looked up at her hopefully.
She fixed him with her firm gaze. “I feel the same way, but why do you want him to stay? Do you want to be friends, or do you want more?”
“More.”
That made her smile. “And have you told him?”
Shaking his head, he said, “No, not yet.”
“What does Alex say? You can’t make an informed decision without all the information.”