frogs_of_war (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frogs_of_war) wrote2013-08-29 08:09 am
frogs_of_war) wrote2013-08-29 08:09 am
Entry tags:
A Balance of Harmonies: Uncomfortable Chatter
I am so tired…
I listen to an item about jobs being automated and my job never could. People will always want flowers. Yesterday I helped a woman who spoke broken English (her daughter spoke better, but spelled like twelve year old) express what she wanted to say on the complimentary cards. It boiled down to “that’s for choosing [business]”. She said that’s what she meant, but that in Spanish you use more words (she had something about quality of service, but I couldn’t figure out how to add it). She apologized all over for making me work, but dealing with people, helping people, is one of the parts of my job I love best.
Off to work.
Title: Uncomfortable Chatter
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred thirty-five of lots
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: Christmas, breakfast, a discussion, worry, awkward conversation, interruptions, allies, lunch, pain, awakening, never letting, go, an invitation, heat, searching, despair
Length: about 3,100 words
Summary: Kurt negotiates family. Emil gets sicker. And Peregrine connects the dots.
Master list
Kurt woke to two little kids landing on his bed. “Uncle Kurt, Uncle Kurt, it’s Christmas.”
He spread his arms for hugs. “Good morning. What do we do first?”
His niece pushed hair out of her face. “We have to wait until Mommy and Daddy wake up for presents.”
“Then what do we do while we wait?”
“Stockings!” The kids got up and ran to the living room.
Clara walked in in her bathrobe. “Sorry.”
Kurt’s phone alarm beeped. He grinned. “Morning.”
She sighed.
Kurt pulled the covers back and stood up. “What can I do?”
“You might want to start with a shower before the cousins wake up.”
He took her advice and then carried the baby downstairs while Todd got dressed. Clara stood in the kitchen making pancakes with one of the cousins: Kayla, Kelsey, Kaylee or something like that. She’d been in grade school when Kurt was off at college. Kurt sat at the table and entertained his little nephew. Babies were cute, but only while they were happy.
The cousin brought some cereal ohs for the baby and put him in his highchair. “Kurt, I heard you have a boyfriend.”
Kurt nodded. “We even bought a house together.”
“Why didn’t you bring him with you?”
Picking between Peregrine and Emil would be painful. His mother still couldn’t deal with him being gay. She certainly wouldn’t understand him having two boyfriends.
Clara sighed. “Why don’t you just marry him? Mom couldn’t say anything them, could she?”
Picking one to marry would be even harder than choosing which to endure family with. If any two got married, it should be Peregrine and Emil. Only Peregrine wasn’t the marrying kind. But Kurt hadn’t thought he was the kind to wear a ring and he’d proved enthusiastic.
“You are thinking of reasons not to propose.” Clara put her hands on her hips.
Kurt pressed his lips together then sighed. “We can’t even get married in our state.”
“Go to one that you can. Canada even. Just get married.”
As if it were that easy.
“You think a piece of paper and a ring would keep Mom from introducing me to her friends’ daughters?”
“Nope,” said their cousin. She smiled. “But it would keep the women from planning their weddings before they even meet you.”
“Women do that?”
“Stupid ones.” She stuck out her tongue.
Clara whapped the cousin with a dishtowel. “Don’t talk like that. They are family.”
The girl sighed. “I’m glad I’m only a third cousin. Once Christmas is over, Aunt Pamela will forget I exist until the next family holiday.”
Kurt patted her on the back. “I wish I were a third cousin.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Just get married.”
“And that solved your problems?” Their cousin rolled up a pancake and stuffed it in her mouth.
Clara sighed. “Most.”
Their cousin shook her head and drizzled syrup over another pancake. Kurt didn’t believe that either. “I wish she’d just let me live my life.”
“Why don’t you want to be married?” Clara never let go once she found a logical hole. She would have made a great lawyer.
“I don’t have any problem with marriage.”
“But you think he does. Have you asked him?”
She had him there. She held up a hand. “Don’t tell me it’s complicated all relationships are complicated.”
But how many relationships were of three people? Clara would think he wasn’t really dedicated to either of his men or that they weren’t dedicated to him. But maybe it was time to just say it. “Clara—”
The phone rang. Clara held up a finger. “Don’t think this conversation is over. Mom? Yes. No, I don’t— We… Ok… yes… sure…”
Mom talked all over her. The kids came to the table and Kurt’s two other cousins came in to complain about the lack of hot water. Neither was wet. Todd’s hair was. He stopped by his wife and kissed her cheek and then turned to the table. “Who’s hungry?”
The kids shouted and the cousins grumbles, except for the one who’d been up longest. She put on one of Clara’s aprons and played domestic goddess with a daub of syrup on her chin.
His family wasn’t really all that bad.
--
Peregrine leaned against the arm of the couch as Olivia showed off her new dress. She was enthusiastic about all her presents and everyone else’s. Hunter had been so emotional about getting a pile of presents that he hadn’t been able to open any of them. Liam had taken him out for a walk and they weren’t back yet.
Keith sat beside Peregrine. “How’s everything?”
“Good. Good.” The last few painting didn’t look how he wanted them to and Emil was like a ghost, not warming the house as he normally did. And he hadn’t hummed in days. Peregrine needed to spend time with him, but the showing date was closing in. Maybe he just needed more sleep.
“How’s he getting along with his grandmother?”
Peregrine didn’t know whether he’s even talked to her after the party. He changed the subject to Tom and brought Hunter into it, then to the shelter and the kids still there. At least he wouldn’t have to guess the answers to those questions.
--
Kurt played with the food on his plate. He’d eaten his fill, but as long as he was eating, he wouldn’t be expected to join in the conversation. One of his cousins showed off her engagement ring and talked about the wedding she had planned. Lobster and caviar for four hundred was going to cost a fortune and wouldn’t even taste that good. Kurt preferred land meat to sea meat.
Kurt’s mother stood and the guests followed her to their feet. Someone touched Kurt’s elbow. He turned. Further down the table, Kurt’s dad nodded toward the door. Kurt maneuvered through the crowd and out of his mother’s view. But where was Dad?
He hailed Kurt from up down a hall and slipped into his office. Cousins called Kurt to the game room. He told them he’d be right there, then he went down the hall to Dad’s office. He pushed the door open. “Hi.”
Dad grinned and shut the door behind them. “You got away. Get comfortable.”
Kurt chose the overstuffed chair, the only one chair that really looked built to his size. Dad sat on the other side of the fireplace. He swirled his glass. “I want to apologize.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. I haven’t been the best father. Clara said you didn’t know how much I…”
Did Clara spill all Kurt’s secrets? “Dad, you don’t need to say anything.”
Dad stared into his glass and then met Kurt’s eye. “From this day forward, I plan on being a better father and grandfather. You didn’t deserve to feel any of the animosity I hold toward you mother. Tell me about your job.”
Kurt quickly dove into his duties and the people he worked with, anything to get away from the uncomfortable conversation. His work lead to the shelter and he couldn’t talk about that without Peregrine.
Dad grinned. “The Peregrine you loved in college?”
“The very one. But a dozen years is a long time to be alone.”
“He had another boyfriend?”
“He did, but Emil was nice enough to invite me to join them. I don’t think I could live without either of them.”
Dad laughed. “You lucky man. How do you deal with…” He waved his glass.
“We do what comes natural.”
“As if anything were that easy. I’m leaving your mother.”
Kurt nodded. “Peregrine said you got a divorce lawyer.”
“Is that who I’ve been talking to? He hasn’t called me lately. I was going to tell him that I have a place to live.”
“With Uncle Jake?”
Dad held up a hand. “Don’t get ahead yourself here. I leased a small condo downtown, two blocks from the office. It will be ready early January. So should the divorce papers. Until then I’m in the pool house with a dozen cousins. I agreed to pretend act the part, but this year I can’t move back into her room for appearances.”
“And Uncle Jake?”
“He’s staying at their beach house. I miss him. One of the senior partners served him papers and pretty much told him that since he was no longer married into the firm, he wasn’t wanted. So he quit.”
“And he’s volunteering?”
“Three days a week in town and two patrolling the beach, removing invasive plant species. Or at least that’s what he will be doing after the first of the year. He likes to get his hands dirty.”
“Is he happy?”
“I hope so.” Dad downed the last of his drink. “Tell me about your men.”
A knock sounded from the door before a pile of cousins poured in. “Pamela’s on a warpath. We want to stay single.”
So did Kurt.
His mother wasn’t far behind them. “Kurt, there you are. Come out. You need to see Tracie’ engagement ring.”
“That’s just the first step.” A cousin wiped his brow. “Next she’ll be giving tips on how to pick one, then telling you who you should buy it for.”
“He knows, stupid,” said one of the younger cousins. “That’s his mother.”
“Poor, poor man. We’re on your side.”
“We are,” said Dad.
Kurt was glad he was. But Kurt followed his mother out. Maybe she’d have some tips about what to look for when he had rings designed.
--
Emil folded the covers from the other side of the bed over him in an attempt to get warm. Peregrine wouldn’t need them. He wasn’t sleeping anyway.
--
Kurt smiled at the waiting ladies. Who scheduled a lunch the day after Christmas? Mothers weren’t that desperate to marry off their daughters, where they? After Kurt seated his mother at one table, he sat at the one with the younger women. The brunette across the table leaned closer. “You’re gay then?”
“Yes. I’ve bought a place with my boyfriend and everything.”
“Good.” She tilted her head to the other table. “Mine doesn’t approve of my boyfriend either.”
“What’s he like?”
And she was off. Other girls contributed. Most of them had boyfriends who they were eager to talk about. They asked him for advice, but straight men were almost as foreign as women were. But at least no one was trying to attract him. That would have just been embarrassing.
--
Emil set the pan back in the sink. He didn’t have the strength to wash it. Making lunch was a total waste. Peregrine was asleep on the floor in his studio and Emil wasn’t feeling well enough to even taste his. He wrapped both plates and set them in the fridge. Maybe he’d feel better if he lay down. He wrapped in a couch throw, but he was still cold, so he pulled another blanket on. His fever was rising. When could he take more medicine?
Not for at least an hour. If he added the blankets from the bunkbed, he might be warm enough, but getting up was too much effort. He could grab them the next time he had to visit the torture chamber to attempt to relieve himself. Until then he would just let his teeth chatter.
--
Peregrine woke with light in his eyes. What time was it? And where was he?
His studio. Early afternoon?
When had he fallen asleep?
The house was quiet. Too quiet. Where was the gentle clink of dishes or click of keys on Emil’s laptop? Where was his hum? When was the last time Emil had been happy enough to hum? Before the party? No Emil had hummed Monday morning after their long afternoon in bed.
Peregrine looked in the bedroom. No Emil. Not a lot of laundry either, although wasn’t that the shirt Emil wore two days ago? Didn’t he do laundry more often than that? Peregrine started a load.
No one was in the kitchen. A note on the fridge read, “Lunch”
Peregrine popped it in the microwave. Maybe Emil had gone to visit his grandmother. Did he leave a note?
Peregrine couldn’t find one. He ate, washed his dishes and the ones in the sink then headed back to his studio. He had to start taking breaks. Dust was building on the lights fixtures again. Life was more than paintings.
--
Kurt sat at Clara’s table with a sigh. She set a hot mug of cocoa in front of him and leaned against a chair. “Getting married to your boyfriend would be more complicated than today was?”
“All the girls knew I was gay.”
“Mom knows you’re gay too. She just thinks you’ll grow out of it when you meet the right woman.”
Kurt covered his face. “And she won’t think that if I’m married?”
“Kurt.”
“Won’t she suddenly think that marriages aren’t forever? Especially with Dad leaving her.”
Clara sat beside Kurt. “What did he say?”
Maybe he shouldn’t spill, but anything was better than talking about his situation. And Dad hadn’t asked him to keep anything a secret, so Kurt told what little he knew minus the bit about Uncle Jake. Clara sighed. “So he really is leaving. Why now? They lived separate lives practically my entire life. Why not keep it up?”
“He says it’s hard. What’s he supposed to do after he retires? Stay with her all day? Doesn’t he deserve to be happy?”
“Then why didn’t he leave earlier? He wasted the last thirty years.”
“I think he stayed because of us.” Or at least because of Clara. “He made the mess; he deserved to lie in it.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “I could have dealt. Most of my friends had divorced parents. They thrived. And he deserves to be happy just like the rest of us.”
Easier said than done.
“Wouldn’t you be happier married?”
Not again. “When I can legally marry two people, I’ll get married.”
She sat down her mug with a clink. “Two?”
“I live with a painter and an author. We bought a condo together.”
“And you…” She made circles with her hand.
“We share a room and a bed. And a bathroom and a closet.”
Clara laughed. “A closet? You must really love them then.”
“Emil taught me to like vegetables.”
She snorted. “I thought you were just hiding them in your napkin like you used to as a kid.”
“We don’t have a dog anymore to feed them to.”
“How you got that dog to eat carrots is beyond me.”
“I covered them with gravy.”
She laughed. “Two. It would take two to keep you happy.”
He tilted the drink in his glass. “And what do you mean by that?”
“Someone to take care of and someone to take care of you. Two? Mom will freak.”
“That’s why I haven’t told her.” Kurt got out his phone and showed her pictures of Emil fixing dinner, dancing, and sleeping and Peregrine painting, on his bicycle, and talking to kids.
She shook her head. “Give me a while to comprehend that one. The dark one is very pretty. How old is he? Twenty?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“No!” She looked through the pictures again. “And the other is the boy from college? Are those tattoos?”
“He’s covered in ink. Lots of dragons. They represent me.”
“And you couldn’t get either to come?”
“Emil’s has a big family in the area and Peregrine hates our mother. Besides. How do I choose?”
“And they’re why you leave the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes. You should come out and see us some time. I’d have you stay with us, but the spare room only has bunk beds.”
“No, thank you. We did that once already when we just had two kids.”
“Or you could sleep in the living room.”
She smiled. “Thanks for the offer.”
“But you will come and see us?”
“After we get settled in our new house. Todd transfers in three weeks. We don’t even have a place to live there.”
Well, that was all he could ask.
--
Emil shivered so much that the bunk bed shook. Even with all the blankets, he wasn’t warm enough. But one room was. The plant room was always warm. He dragged himself out of bed and into the warm humid space. Finally.
--
Peregrine set down his paintbrush. There had been two plates in the fridge. Had Emil expected to be gone a long time? If so why hadn’t he left a note? Peregrine pulled out his phone and called Emil. The phone rang in the bedroom.
Emil wouldn’t go anywhere without his phone, would he? He wouldn’t go anywhere without a note.
Peregrine checked the bathroom, the laundry room, the kitchen, Kurt’s office, and the bathroom off the living room. No Emil. He opened the door to the spare room. Neither bed had a blanket although Peregrine had washed the bedding and remade the beds on Monday.
The throws weren’t on the couches either. They hadn’t been in the laundry room. Emil wasn’t sitting out on the balcony. Of course if he was on a balcony, it would be his. Peregrine opened the door to the plant room and stepped back from the puff of hot air. Then he stepped in.
This is where all the blankets were. Why had Emil—Emil! His face had lost all color and he lay still. Too still. Peregrine Feel to his knees and covered his eyes. He had failed his greatest love. He’d let something as pointless as painting keep him from spending time with Emil and now it was too late.
He was dead. People with his skin tone never got that pale in life. Peregrine was too late.
Only… maybe…
Peregrine reach out and touched Emil wrist. Dead people weren’t this warm. “Emil?”
Emil didn’t move.
“Emil, you better not die on me.” He might as well die himself. He pulled Emil into his arms and instantly started sweating. Emil was burning up. Peregrine threw off the blankets. How was he supposed to get Emil cool? How was he supposed to get Emil to the hospital with Kurt’s car in the airport parking lot?
He pulled out his phone and called the emergency number. The lady at the other end was too calm. How could she be calm when Emil was dying? Kurt would kill him. He couldn’t even keep Emil safe for three days. He didn’t deserve a boyfriend as good as Emil.
And now he didn’t have one.
I listen to an item about jobs being automated and my job never could. People will always want flowers. Yesterday I helped a woman who spoke broken English (her daughter spoke better, but spelled like twelve year old) express what she wanted to say on the complimentary cards. It boiled down to “that’s for choosing [business]”. She said that’s what she meant, but that in Spanish you use more words (she had something about quality of service, but I couldn’t figure out how to add it). She apologized all over for making me work, but dealing with people, helping people, is one of the parts of my job I love best.
Off to work.
Title: Uncomfortable Chatter
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred thirty-five of lots
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: Christmas, breakfast, a discussion, worry, awkward conversation, interruptions, allies, lunch, pain, awakening, never letting, go, an invitation, heat, searching, despair
Length: about 3,100 words
Summary: Kurt negotiates family. Emil gets sicker. And Peregrine connects the dots.
Master list
Kurt woke to two little kids landing on his bed. “Uncle Kurt, Uncle Kurt, it’s Christmas.”
He spread his arms for hugs. “Good morning. What do we do first?”
His niece pushed hair out of her face. “We have to wait until Mommy and Daddy wake up for presents.”
“Then what do we do while we wait?”
“Stockings!” The kids got up and ran to the living room.
Clara walked in in her bathrobe. “Sorry.”
Kurt’s phone alarm beeped. He grinned. “Morning.”
She sighed.
Kurt pulled the covers back and stood up. “What can I do?”
“You might want to start with a shower before the cousins wake up.”
He took her advice and then carried the baby downstairs while Todd got dressed. Clara stood in the kitchen making pancakes with one of the cousins: Kayla, Kelsey, Kaylee or something like that. She’d been in grade school when Kurt was off at college. Kurt sat at the table and entertained his little nephew. Babies were cute, but only while they were happy.
The cousin brought some cereal ohs for the baby and put him in his highchair. “Kurt, I heard you have a boyfriend.”
Kurt nodded. “We even bought a house together.”
“Why didn’t you bring him with you?”
Picking between Peregrine and Emil would be painful. His mother still couldn’t deal with him being gay. She certainly wouldn’t understand him having two boyfriends.
Clara sighed. “Why don’t you just marry him? Mom couldn’t say anything them, could she?”
Picking one to marry would be even harder than choosing which to endure family with. If any two got married, it should be Peregrine and Emil. Only Peregrine wasn’t the marrying kind. But Kurt hadn’t thought he was the kind to wear a ring and he’d proved enthusiastic.
“You are thinking of reasons not to propose.” Clara put her hands on her hips.
Kurt pressed his lips together then sighed. “We can’t even get married in our state.”
“Go to one that you can. Canada even. Just get married.”
As if it were that easy.
“You think a piece of paper and a ring would keep Mom from introducing me to her friends’ daughters?”
“Nope,” said their cousin. She smiled. “But it would keep the women from planning their weddings before they even meet you.”
“Women do that?”
“Stupid ones.” She stuck out her tongue.
Clara whapped the cousin with a dishtowel. “Don’t talk like that. They are family.”
The girl sighed. “I’m glad I’m only a third cousin. Once Christmas is over, Aunt Pamela will forget I exist until the next family holiday.”
Kurt patted her on the back. “I wish I were a third cousin.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Just get married.”
“And that solved your problems?” Their cousin rolled up a pancake and stuffed it in her mouth.
Clara sighed. “Most.”
Their cousin shook her head and drizzled syrup over another pancake. Kurt didn’t believe that either. “I wish she’d just let me live my life.”
“Why don’t you want to be married?” Clara never let go once she found a logical hole. She would have made a great lawyer.
“I don’t have any problem with marriage.”
“But you think he does. Have you asked him?”
She had him there. She held up a hand. “Don’t tell me it’s complicated all relationships are complicated.”
But how many relationships were of three people? Clara would think he wasn’t really dedicated to either of his men or that they weren’t dedicated to him. But maybe it was time to just say it. “Clara—”
The phone rang. Clara held up a finger. “Don’t think this conversation is over. Mom? Yes. No, I don’t— We… Ok… yes… sure…”
Mom talked all over her. The kids came to the table and Kurt’s two other cousins came in to complain about the lack of hot water. Neither was wet. Todd’s hair was. He stopped by his wife and kissed her cheek and then turned to the table. “Who’s hungry?”
The kids shouted and the cousins grumbles, except for the one who’d been up longest. She put on one of Clara’s aprons and played domestic goddess with a daub of syrup on her chin.
His family wasn’t really all that bad.
--
Peregrine leaned against the arm of the couch as Olivia showed off her new dress. She was enthusiastic about all her presents and everyone else’s. Hunter had been so emotional about getting a pile of presents that he hadn’t been able to open any of them. Liam had taken him out for a walk and they weren’t back yet.
Keith sat beside Peregrine. “How’s everything?”
“Good. Good.” The last few painting didn’t look how he wanted them to and Emil was like a ghost, not warming the house as he normally did. And he hadn’t hummed in days. Peregrine needed to spend time with him, but the showing date was closing in. Maybe he just needed more sleep.
“How’s he getting along with his grandmother?”
Peregrine didn’t know whether he’s even talked to her after the party. He changed the subject to Tom and brought Hunter into it, then to the shelter and the kids still there. At least he wouldn’t have to guess the answers to those questions.
--
Kurt played with the food on his plate. He’d eaten his fill, but as long as he was eating, he wouldn’t be expected to join in the conversation. One of his cousins showed off her engagement ring and talked about the wedding she had planned. Lobster and caviar for four hundred was going to cost a fortune and wouldn’t even taste that good. Kurt preferred land meat to sea meat.
Kurt’s mother stood and the guests followed her to their feet. Someone touched Kurt’s elbow. He turned. Further down the table, Kurt’s dad nodded toward the door. Kurt maneuvered through the crowd and out of his mother’s view. But where was Dad?
He hailed Kurt from up down a hall and slipped into his office. Cousins called Kurt to the game room. He told them he’d be right there, then he went down the hall to Dad’s office. He pushed the door open. “Hi.”
Dad grinned and shut the door behind them. “You got away. Get comfortable.”
Kurt chose the overstuffed chair, the only one chair that really looked built to his size. Dad sat on the other side of the fireplace. He swirled his glass. “I want to apologize.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. I haven’t been the best father. Clara said you didn’t know how much I…”
Did Clara spill all Kurt’s secrets? “Dad, you don’t need to say anything.”
Dad stared into his glass and then met Kurt’s eye. “From this day forward, I plan on being a better father and grandfather. You didn’t deserve to feel any of the animosity I hold toward you mother. Tell me about your job.”
Kurt quickly dove into his duties and the people he worked with, anything to get away from the uncomfortable conversation. His work lead to the shelter and he couldn’t talk about that without Peregrine.
Dad grinned. “The Peregrine you loved in college?”
“The very one. But a dozen years is a long time to be alone.”
“He had another boyfriend?”
“He did, but Emil was nice enough to invite me to join them. I don’t think I could live without either of them.”
Dad laughed. “You lucky man. How do you deal with…” He waved his glass.
“We do what comes natural.”
“As if anything were that easy. I’m leaving your mother.”
Kurt nodded. “Peregrine said you got a divorce lawyer.”
“Is that who I’ve been talking to? He hasn’t called me lately. I was going to tell him that I have a place to live.”
“With Uncle Jake?”
Dad held up a hand. “Don’t get ahead yourself here. I leased a small condo downtown, two blocks from the office. It will be ready early January. So should the divorce papers. Until then I’m in the pool house with a dozen cousins. I agreed to pretend act the part, but this year I can’t move back into her room for appearances.”
“And Uncle Jake?”
“He’s staying at their beach house. I miss him. One of the senior partners served him papers and pretty much told him that since he was no longer married into the firm, he wasn’t wanted. So he quit.”
“And he’s volunteering?”
“Three days a week in town and two patrolling the beach, removing invasive plant species. Or at least that’s what he will be doing after the first of the year. He likes to get his hands dirty.”
“Is he happy?”
“I hope so.” Dad downed the last of his drink. “Tell me about your men.”
A knock sounded from the door before a pile of cousins poured in. “Pamela’s on a warpath. We want to stay single.”
So did Kurt.
His mother wasn’t far behind them. “Kurt, there you are. Come out. You need to see Tracie’ engagement ring.”
“That’s just the first step.” A cousin wiped his brow. “Next she’ll be giving tips on how to pick one, then telling you who you should buy it for.”
“He knows, stupid,” said one of the younger cousins. “That’s his mother.”
“Poor, poor man. We’re on your side.”
“We are,” said Dad.
Kurt was glad he was. But Kurt followed his mother out. Maybe she’d have some tips about what to look for when he had rings designed.
--
Emil folded the covers from the other side of the bed over him in an attempt to get warm. Peregrine wouldn’t need them. He wasn’t sleeping anyway.
--
Kurt smiled at the waiting ladies. Who scheduled a lunch the day after Christmas? Mothers weren’t that desperate to marry off their daughters, where they? After Kurt seated his mother at one table, he sat at the one with the younger women. The brunette across the table leaned closer. “You’re gay then?”
“Yes. I’ve bought a place with my boyfriend and everything.”
“Good.” She tilted her head to the other table. “Mine doesn’t approve of my boyfriend either.”
“What’s he like?”
And she was off. Other girls contributed. Most of them had boyfriends who they were eager to talk about. They asked him for advice, but straight men were almost as foreign as women were. But at least no one was trying to attract him. That would have just been embarrassing.
--
Emil set the pan back in the sink. He didn’t have the strength to wash it. Making lunch was a total waste. Peregrine was asleep on the floor in his studio and Emil wasn’t feeling well enough to even taste his. He wrapped both plates and set them in the fridge. Maybe he’d feel better if he lay down. He wrapped in a couch throw, but he was still cold, so he pulled another blanket on. His fever was rising. When could he take more medicine?
Not for at least an hour. If he added the blankets from the bunkbed, he might be warm enough, but getting up was too much effort. He could grab them the next time he had to visit the torture chamber to attempt to relieve himself. Until then he would just let his teeth chatter.
--
Peregrine woke with light in his eyes. What time was it? And where was he?
His studio. Early afternoon?
When had he fallen asleep?
The house was quiet. Too quiet. Where was the gentle clink of dishes or click of keys on Emil’s laptop? Where was his hum? When was the last time Emil had been happy enough to hum? Before the party? No Emil had hummed Monday morning after their long afternoon in bed.
Peregrine looked in the bedroom. No Emil. Not a lot of laundry either, although wasn’t that the shirt Emil wore two days ago? Didn’t he do laundry more often than that? Peregrine started a load.
No one was in the kitchen. A note on the fridge read, “Lunch”
Peregrine popped it in the microwave. Maybe Emil had gone to visit his grandmother. Did he leave a note?
Peregrine couldn’t find one. He ate, washed his dishes and the ones in the sink then headed back to his studio. He had to start taking breaks. Dust was building on the lights fixtures again. Life was more than paintings.
--
Kurt sat at Clara’s table with a sigh. She set a hot mug of cocoa in front of him and leaned against a chair. “Getting married to your boyfriend would be more complicated than today was?”
“All the girls knew I was gay.”
“Mom knows you’re gay too. She just thinks you’ll grow out of it when you meet the right woman.”
Kurt covered his face. “And she won’t think that if I’m married?”
“Kurt.”
“Won’t she suddenly think that marriages aren’t forever? Especially with Dad leaving her.”
Clara sat beside Kurt. “What did he say?”
Maybe he shouldn’t spill, but anything was better than talking about his situation. And Dad hadn’t asked him to keep anything a secret, so Kurt told what little he knew minus the bit about Uncle Jake. Clara sighed. “So he really is leaving. Why now? They lived separate lives practically my entire life. Why not keep it up?”
“He says it’s hard. What’s he supposed to do after he retires? Stay with her all day? Doesn’t he deserve to be happy?”
“Then why didn’t he leave earlier? He wasted the last thirty years.”
“I think he stayed because of us.” Or at least because of Clara. “He made the mess; he deserved to lie in it.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “I could have dealt. Most of my friends had divorced parents. They thrived. And he deserves to be happy just like the rest of us.”
Easier said than done.
“Wouldn’t you be happier married?”
Not again. “When I can legally marry two people, I’ll get married.”
She sat down her mug with a clink. “Two?”
“I live with a painter and an author. We bought a condo together.”
“And you…” She made circles with her hand.
“We share a room and a bed. And a bathroom and a closet.”
Clara laughed. “A closet? You must really love them then.”
“Emil taught me to like vegetables.”
She snorted. “I thought you were just hiding them in your napkin like you used to as a kid.”
“We don’t have a dog anymore to feed them to.”
“How you got that dog to eat carrots is beyond me.”
“I covered them with gravy.”
She laughed. “Two. It would take two to keep you happy.”
He tilted the drink in his glass. “And what do you mean by that?”
“Someone to take care of and someone to take care of you. Two? Mom will freak.”
“That’s why I haven’t told her.” Kurt got out his phone and showed her pictures of Emil fixing dinner, dancing, and sleeping and Peregrine painting, on his bicycle, and talking to kids.
She shook her head. “Give me a while to comprehend that one. The dark one is very pretty. How old is he? Twenty?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“No!” She looked through the pictures again. “And the other is the boy from college? Are those tattoos?”
“He’s covered in ink. Lots of dragons. They represent me.”
“And you couldn’t get either to come?”
“Emil’s has a big family in the area and Peregrine hates our mother. Besides. How do I choose?”
“And they’re why you leave the day after tomorrow?”
“Yes. You should come out and see us some time. I’d have you stay with us, but the spare room only has bunk beds.”
“No, thank you. We did that once already when we just had two kids.”
“Or you could sleep in the living room.”
She smiled. “Thanks for the offer.”
“But you will come and see us?”
“After we get settled in our new house. Todd transfers in three weeks. We don’t even have a place to live there.”
Well, that was all he could ask.
--
Emil shivered so much that the bunk bed shook. Even with all the blankets, he wasn’t warm enough. But one room was. The plant room was always warm. He dragged himself out of bed and into the warm humid space. Finally.
--
Peregrine set down his paintbrush. There had been two plates in the fridge. Had Emil expected to be gone a long time? If so why hadn’t he left a note? Peregrine pulled out his phone and called Emil. The phone rang in the bedroom.
Emil wouldn’t go anywhere without his phone, would he? He wouldn’t go anywhere without a note.
Peregrine checked the bathroom, the laundry room, the kitchen, Kurt’s office, and the bathroom off the living room. No Emil. He opened the door to the spare room. Neither bed had a blanket although Peregrine had washed the bedding and remade the beds on Monday.
The throws weren’t on the couches either. They hadn’t been in the laundry room. Emil wasn’t sitting out on the balcony. Of course if he was on a balcony, it would be his. Peregrine opened the door to the plant room and stepped back from the puff of hot air. Then he stepped in.
This is where all the blankets were. Why had Emil—Emil! His face had lost all color and he lay still. Too still. Peregrine Feel to his knees and covered his eyes. He had failed his greatest love. He’d let something as pointless as painting keep him from spending time with Emil and now it was too late.
He was dead. People with his skin tone never got that pale in life. Peregrine was too late.
Only… maybe…
Peregrine reach out and touched Emil wrist. Dead people weren’t this warm. “Emil?”
Emil didn’t move.
“Emil, you better not die on me.” He might as well die himself. He pulled Emil into his arms and instantly started sweating. Emil was burning up. Peregrine threw off the blankets. How was he supposed to get Emil cool? How was he supposed to get Emil to the hospital with Kurt’s car in the airport parking lot?
He pulled out his phone and called the emergency number. The lady at the other end was too calm. How could she be calm when Emil was dying? Kurt would kill him. He couldn’t even keep Emil safe for three days. He didn’t deserve a boyfriend as good as Emil.
And now he didn’t have one.