A Balance of Harmonies: Party, part 6

[frogs_of_war]

Is adding new characters crazy at this point in the story? I’d pretty much told myself that I wasn’t going to add any new characters that weren’t at least mentioned earlier. I know I’ve got a boat load of people all ready. Too many for some to follow. But really, what kind of man would marry a woman like Kurt’s mother and stay married to her for thirty-some years? I just had to find out.


Title: Party, part 6
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred twenty-nine of loads
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: painting, glimpses, Kurt’s phone, a call, demands, evilness, guests, questions, Dad, wistfulness, a confession, a decision
Length: about 3,300 words
Summary: Peregrine spends a lot of time on the phone.

Master list


Peregrine added highlights to Piper’s curls. What else was missing? He probably wouldn’t see it until he put his brush away. But he’d gotten ninety-nine percent of the painting done in just a few hours and this kept him away from the dancing, which wasn’t really his thing.

Mr. Zawadzki sighed. He tilted his head and stared at the painting of Willow and Liam from a different angle. Peregrine hadn’t had that picture out before, but since Willow hadn’t minded, he’d brought it into view. “Something you like.”

Mr. Zawadzki bumped his fingers against his lips. “I almost feel if I tilt my head right, I’m going to catch a glimpse of something.”

Willow didn’t have a lot to glimpse. Back when Peregrine started dating Emil, Willow would sometimes go around shirtless. She still went braless when not dressed up.

“I know, I know.” Mr. Zawadzki sighed. “I’m just a dirty old man, but young people today are so beautiful. You have it lucky. I didn’t come out until it was too late to find anyone.”

“It’s never too late.”

“But alas it is. The mind is willing, but the body… I’m an old man. Certain things don’t act the way they used to. But I can look, even if I can’t follow through. Your pictures are stories of people in love.”

“Thank you.” Maybe Peregrine should visit the doctor and make sure he was healthy. He didn’t want to grow old too quickly. Anything little thing that could keep him enjoying his men as long as possible was a good thing.

“Peregrine.” Dakota stood at the door with Tyler beside him. Dakota’s hands were behind his back and he was as mussed up as Peregrine hoped to be as soon as this party was over. Maybe tomorrow. Emil would need the rest.

“And what can I do for you?”

“We found…” Dakota held out his hand. Kurt’s phone vibrated. “It keeps going off. It fell out of the clothes.”

The buzzing stopped. But started again as Peregrine took it. The front read Mom.

“He’s missed twenty-two calls.”

Tyler took Dakota’s hand. “Twenty-three now.”

Peregrine walked down the hall until the music was as loud as it would get without him stepping into the dining room. He didn’t want Kurt to see what he was up to. No point upsetting him. Peregrine accepted the call. “Hello.”

“Hello, Kurt. Hello. Where are you? I can hardly hear you. Go somewhere quieter.” She was just as sharp as Peregrine had imaged the woman who ruined his young life to be.

“Excuse me. Who are you?”

“I’m your mother. Who else would I be?”

“You can’t be my mother. I talked to her just yesterday and she didn’t sound anything like you.”

“Wait, what? Who are you?”

“I asked first.”

“Why are you on my son’s phone?”

“Who is your son?”

“The man who owns the phone you stole.”

“Can you describe him? He might be in the room somewhere.”

“What? Why? Where are you?”

“At a party. The food was good and the company is fine, but most of my friends haven’t shown up yet. I hope they don’t flake.”

“Flake? What are you talking about?”

“You haven’t said who you are.”

“Give the phone to Kurt.”

“Which one’s Kurt?”

“What? Just give him his phone.”

“But who is he?”

“Kurt Edward Skyles. Just hand him the phone.”

“So you say, but what does he look like? I can’t go shouting his name and hope he hears me.”

“Just do it.”

“Maybe you should call back later.”

“No, wait. Kurt is tall and pale.”

Peregrine put the phone against his chest and pretended to survey the room. “Sorry. Too many people resemble that description. I need something else.”

“How many pale giants do you have at that party?”

Kurt as a frost giant and Emil was a tropical boy who couldn’t stand the cold. Who would Peregrine be? A mediator of some kind that allowed them to be together.

“Hello. Hello. I can hear music. You have to still be there.”

“What was that?”

“What? Hello.”

The doorbell rang. Peregrine ended the call and slid the phone into his pocket.

Dakota giggled. “You are evil.”

“Why thank you.”

The phone buzzed again before he got to the door. He ignored it. He waved Beka and Veronica in. “Come in, come in. So great to see you. You both look lovely today. This way.”

He wasn’t any good at being the prefect gay host, but he was giving it his best shot. It had to be kind of working. Beka and Veronica exchanged glances several times. He lead them into the living room and made sure they had drinks and the introduced them to the people not dancing. Brody took Beka out onto the dance floor and Zawadzki passed Ezra to Casey and twirled Veronica out.

His host duties done, Peregrine went back into his studio and pulled out the phone. “Hello?”

“Where were you? Why didn’t you answer?”

Peregrine picked up his pallet. “I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Looking for this Kurt person.”

“You were not.”

“How would you know? And what are you doing tonight that you can spend the whole evening hitting redial? Don’t you have a life? What do you need to talk to this Kurt guy about anyway?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe finding this Kurt fellow is none of my business either.” Peregrine hung up. Sometimes concentrating on something else brought out the gaps in a painting. He added an extra glint to the baby’s eye. Now the painting was perfect. What should he work on next?

Peregrine had one square canvas. Maybe if he painted both painting on the same sized canvas, Zawadzki’s parents could flip it depending on who was over. She wanted to show off her handsome son to all her friends whose children refused to date him. Peregrine would make Zawadzki sizzling hot. His parents’ friends would drool. That was the least he could do for a friend. And might just get a path beat to his door. Word of mouth, especially gossip, traveled fast.

The phone went off again. This time it said Dad.

“Hello.”

“Hello? I hear you have my son’s phone.”

“I’ve been trying to find him.”

Maybe he should treat Emil and Kurt to a week at the coast this summer. Nice, but not Kurt nice. Some place that wouldn’t make Emil uncomfortable.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“You were looking for my son? He shouldn’t be hard to spot.”

“Really? Then why I can’t find him?”

“He’s tall, even taller than I am. My wife says she has some Viking among her ancestors, but I’m not so sure. Only I’ve never seen anyone that looked enough like Kurt to accuse of fathering him.”

“Would you? Make accusations?”

“I’d do a DNA test first. I’m not that crass.”

“Why don’t you do a DNA test now?”

“And if I find out she did cheat on me? I’d be forced to leave her.”

“You would?”

“A man can’t keep his self respect if he lets his wife cheat on him.” But that probably didn’t apply if he was the one doing the cheating.

“But having a son that doesn’t look like you…”

“I’ve got dark hair. So does his sister. My wife is blonde. Probably dark gray under the dye. Kurt was a towhead. His hair was whiter than his skin and he’s pale as paper. I love the boy, I really do, but he’s just not the son I wanted.”

Peregrine wasn’t hearing the love. “But you don’t think he’s your son?”

“How can he be? I spend hours in the gym to have any muscles. Kurt eats ice cream and his grow.”

Peregrine had seen pictures of Kurt’s family back in college. Kurt’s father was exaggerating his small stature. He had to be as tall as Emil and built like Keith, not overly muscled, but not stick thin. “Jealous?”

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

“No one else in the family colored like him?”

“Nope. My wife says her great grandfather was, but the black and white pictures of him are when he was an old man. He would have gone gray by then. No one Kurt’s size either.”

“Does anyone else think he might not be yours?”

“They all do, I’m sure. But no one has said so to my face.”

“Why are you calling him anyway? I’d think you’d be glad he was out of the picture.”

“No. I don’t mind where he lives. I’m happy to hear he’s doing fine. His mother likes to keep track of him. She keeps track of the rest of us, but him especially. Maybe he’s the son of the man she was really in love with. A pool boy maybe. A gardener. No, maybe some guy at her spa. That I could believe. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Too much to drink maybe.” A small clink sounded over the phone. “She’s a shrew tonight, whining and complaining that he’s not answering his phone. I wouldn’t answer either if I knew it was her.”

“And yet you called Kurt for her.”

“She wouldn’t leave me alone. The bourbon barely dampens the sound of her voice. She’s complaining to our daughter. We should have had a dozen kids, less work for each child. I failed them both. I failed myself. If only I hadn’t married her. You don’t know who I am, do you? I won’t want this getting out. She’s a terror when angry.”

“You haven’t told me your name. I only know your son is Kurt.” Peregrine mixed up an orange for the base coat of a sunset.

“That’s all you need.” Kurt’s father sighed. “I should hang up.”

But talking to him was better than talking to his wife and she was sure to call back. “Why did you marry her?”

Kurt’s father barked a laugh. “I ask myself the same question every day.”

“But you sound miserable.”

“My life isn’t so bad. And the alternative was worse.”

“How could it be worse?”

He took in a breath and let it out slowly. “I really don’t know.”

“Here you are… early fifties?”

Kurt’s father laughed. “I married at twenty-seven. Kurt’s sister is three years older. Early sixties. But thanks for the compliment. I’m glad I don’t sound like an old man.”

“So early sixties. Imagine yourself now if you hadn’t married her. Where would you be?”

“I can’t even think it. Sometimes I think she can hear my thoughts.”

“Is she nearby?”

The phone went quiet. Peregrine washed the canvas with evening light. The rock first or the water? The water. He mixed blues. The sunset would reflect off the water, but the blue was underneath.

“She’s still talking to our daughter. I’ll sit in the car. That way I’ll see her coming.”

Kurt wasn’t the only one feeling put upon.

“When I was young, all that really mattered was having a family so my mother would shut up. College was easy. Law school was barely a stretch. The world lay at my feet.”

“What would you have done? If not for family guilt.”

“Family guilt is everything.”

“No. Close your eyes. Here you are in your car. You haven’t got out of your car yet after work because you want the last few seconds of anticipation before you go inside to the house of your dreams.”

“We are not going there.”

“What does it look like?”

“You’re not asking who’s inside?”

“You know who’s inside. What color is the front door?”

“Green. A friendly green. The walls are shake, weathered to gray. An English garden surrounds it. The roof is longer on one side and kind of curves. The second story has a round window in front. Small. One tiny room we live in with a cute kitchen. I make breakfast. This is a dream because I can’t cook. Upstairs is the bedroom. The bed frame is white metal and old, but we bought it new, when we were young. The whole home, yard and all, would fit inside my current house. I hate this place. Soup gets cold bringing it up from the kitchen. Servants, empty rooms, bad memories.”

“You want a tiny place.”

“I don’t need much. A closet for my suits. I could live with three. One to wear, one at the cleaners, one as back up. I don’t need casual clothes. I’ll just roll up my sleeves and putter around the garden.”

He was like Kurt in that respect. On a Saturday, Kurt was still in a suit.

“Do you like to garden?”

Kurt’s father sighed. “Not really.”

“Then who is going to take care of the garden in this dream of yours? A gardener?”

“You think too much. My… housemate likes gardening. H… This person likes getting dirt under… their fingernails. He, ok, he’s a man. And I see him, you know, every damn day. Every day, mind you, for over thirty years. Five days a week at work, and at least one weekend day. I can’t say anything. I never will. If she would have cheated on me with him, I would have loved his son with my whole being. I would have been a good father. Not like I am.” He took a deep breath. “You judging me?”

“I know something about being in love with someone I couldn’t have.” And this man was at least partly to blame.

“So you see.”

“And I died inside every day.”

“Yeah.”

“But now I have him, in my life, in my bed, in my heart.”

“How? I couldn’t risk it?”

“Risk what? Your unhappy life?”

“He wouldn’t… I’m not… What do you care?”

“I’m a hopeless romantic.” The rock hung out over the water. The rock and the painting needed a more detail, but he didn’t want to add anything until he had Zawadzki and Ezra in their poses. Would this melancholy conversation affect the painting? Maybe he should sketch things out first.

“I like my job, my daughter, her kids.”

“Would your job be at risk? Aren’t you close to retirement?”

“I could walk away right now except he’s there. I’ve thought about it. Working pro bono. I don’t need the money and if I leave her the less money I make, the less alimony I’ll owe. Maybe. My son volunteers. Something to do with kids. I’m proud of him. His mother doesn’t know. She’d freak.”

“And your daughter? Would she turn her back if you set yourself free?”

“Free? Could I ever be free?”

“No one is ever entirely free. Love binds us tighter than chains. Any friends you can’t live without?”

Kurt’s father snorted. “None I can live with. She picks my friends and my clothes if you can believe it. Kurt should run while he has the chance. Never look back.”

“Tell me about him, your… housemate.” Peregrine sketched the little house with flower covered vines growing up the front.

“He’s… He’s the kind of guy who shoestrings break on. My wife hates him. His own wife hates him. Everyone thinks he’s a ne’er-do-well. But that’s just the outside. He’s the smartest man I’ve known. And so gentle. I saw a butterfly land on his finger. That’s when I realized I was in love with him. Twenty–five years ago. Kurt’s seventh birthday. I was sent to find him and he was surrounded by butterflies. I’d known him forever by this point. We went to school together. Dated sisters. Married sisters. Got jobs at the same firm. Worked our way up together. And I finally saw him and I can’t unsee it, no matter how hard I try. He’s always there at the back of my mind.”

Peregrine added a man surrounded by butterflies. “And now?”

“He doesn’t see me the way I see him.” He sniffed. “He’ll never see me how I want to be seen. I’m a man who can’t even love his son. My god, I can’t believe I’m crying. I never drink this much.” He sniffed again. “I should go in and sober up.”

“You didn’t get a DNA test because you don’t want Kurt to know.”

“He’s my son, dammit. I raised him, didn’t I? I put a roof over his head. I made sure he was clothed and fed. I distracted his mother when she tried to rule his life. Most of the time, but she’s damn near undistractible. She’s stubborn as a mile is long and she’s got it in her head that our boy is gay and that she can somehow save his soul if she imprisons him. But she’s just damning us all to hell on earth. So what if he’s gay? So what if he’s living with a clown and monkey and rides a little car in the circus. If he’s happy. Do you think he’s happy?”

“I know he is.”

“You said you didn’t know him.”

Peregrine sketched a man looking on. “I lied.”

Kurt’s father laughed. “I like you. And if you’re willing to lie for him, I’d save you are pretty close.”

“I’d like to think.”

“Do you treat him well?”

Did he? Maybe not good enough. “He seems happy.”

“Good. Good. Thanks for talking to me.”

“No problem.”

“Don’t tell him.”

“That I talked to you? That you love him? That his mother called?”

“That I ever doubted he was my son. I’m just an idiot wanting her to give me some excuse to leave. I’ve waited years for her to slip up. I don’t need to wait.” A purr started up. “I think I’m going to visit the beach house. Storms are beautiful this time of year.”

“Are you sure you should be driving?”

Kurt’s father sighed and the purr quieted. “You’re right. I should sleep this off in the pool house. I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to leave her. Something will come up. Christmas, New Year’s, I’ll put it off and it will never happen.”

“Call me and tell me how it’s going.” This man needed out as badly as Kurt had. “I’m normally not far from Kurt and his phone.”

“I do love him.”

“I know.”

Peregrine stared at the orange, brown, and blue canvas long after the call ended. Maybe Kurt had free arms. Peregrine needed a hug.