They Come by Night Read online

  “I’m getting them for someone. Uh… I liked that version of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’” I waved vaguely toward the ceiling. “Do you have the CD here, or do I need to go to Best Buy or Target?”

  “That’s Straight No Chaser. I can show you where their CDs are.”

  I followed him to the music section. He pulled out the CD and handed it to me.

  “Thanks.” I turned it over and checked out the playlist.

  “No problem. Can I help you with anything else?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Okay, then. I can take my break now. What do you say?”

  “To what?”

  “Coffee?”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t think of an excuse not to have coffee with him. “Okay.”

  “Thanks.” He reached for my arm. “Let’s—”

  I drew back. “I still don’t like being touched, Wilder. If that’s going to be a problem, maybe we should forget about this.”

  “No. I’m sorry. The café is over here.” He led the way. “What’s your pleasure?”

  I glanced at the menu board on the wall. “I’ll have the gingersnap hot chocolate.”

  “A gingersnap hot chocolate and a caramel mocha, Tess.”

  “With extra whipped cream, please,” I requested as I took a pill fob from my pocket. I loved whipped cream, and I’d learned early to always carry the lactase supplement whenever I left the house. Once I’d swallowed the tablet, I put the fob away and reached for my wallet.

  “No, I’ve got this one, Small. I get a discount.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  The barista took his money and employee card, rang up the transaction, and then returned the card and change to Wilder. She prepared our order and set it down on the counter with a thump.

  Huh? Well, maybe she was just having a bad day.

  We took our cups and found a table in a corner that wasn’t as crowded as the rest of the café and sat down. I stacked the books and CD on the table and got comfortable.

  “So.” He took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the last person I’d expect to see here. It’s so far from Clewiston.”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  He shrugged. “I haven’t been home since I left my senior year at Horatio Gates High. I guess you all wondered where I’d gone.”

  I brought my cup to my mouth. The last thing I was going to tell him was I’d been too relieved he was gone to care about where he’d gone to.

  Fortunately, he wasn’t waiting for a response. “So how come you’re here at Knox Mall and not shopping at the Hale Mall?”

  “I don’t live at home anymore.”

  “Have a fight with the old man?”

  “No. Why would you think that?”

  “It’s why I never went back home.”

  Not even to attend his father’s funeral. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Your loss.” Mr. Wilder had been a cop, but he hadn’t been killed in the line of duty. Clewiston was a small town and didn’t have that kind of crime. No, Mr. Wilder had collapsed of a heart attack while he was out jogging.

  “It wasn’t a loss to me. The bastard sent me to a military academy in South Carolina. I begged him not to—Never mind. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that, either. Tell me how you wound up in this neck of the woods.”

  “Uh….” How was I going to explain this? “I just thought it would be a good idea if I got out on my own.”

  “Your dad found out you were gay, did he?”

  “That isn’t…. What are you…? How did you know I was gay?”

  “I always knew. Or maybe I should say I suspected.”

  I was fourteen; I hadn’t even known! “Was that why you picked on me?”

  He shook his head. “Forget it. Look, Small. It’s not a good idea to admit to being gay so freely. It could get you bashed.”

  “None of my friends care.” Or they wouldn’t if I’d admitted anything to them. It had seemed moot, since the odds of me ever having sex with members of either sex were nil.

  “That’s what you think. I’ll bet all they really wanted was to get in your pants. Use the gay boy to get their rocks off—”

  “Because that’s what you’d do?” I glared at him and pushed back my seat. “You don’t say another word about my friends, Wilder.” This was the guy who’d been the bane of my existence four years earlier. What was I doing feeling sorry for him? “I had to be out of my mind thinking you’d changed. You’re still an asshole.”

  “Yeah? Well, you’re living in a dreamworld, Small.” He pushed up the hem of the turtleneck he was wearing to reveal a long, ugly scar that ended just under his left pec.

  My jaw dropped and I sank back down. “What happened?”

  “What do you think happened? A couple of homophobic assholes thought I was… I don’t know. Ogling them? As if. I was so high that night I couldn’t have gotten it up for Scarlett Johansson, never mind their ugly-ass selves.”

  “I’m so sorry!”

  “I didn’t show you this to….” He looked uncomfortable. “Look, Small, I just wanted to apologize for being such a prick to you.” He glanced at his watch. “My break’s over. I’ve got to go.”

  He was up and striding away before I could say a word.

  Well. It sucked when you felt sorry for someone even though he’d made your life miserable in high school.

  “Everything all right?” Tess, the barista, stood by the table, and she seemed to be bristling with resentment.

  “Yeah. Mitch had to go back to work.”

  “Just to let you know, he may have been coming on to you, but he has someone in his life.”

  “Huh?”

  “That roommate he may or may not have mentioned? That would be me, and if you think you can waltz into his arms—”

  “Oh, no, you’ve got it wrong!” Mitch was bi? How had I never picked up on that? “We just went to school together.”

  “Sure you did. You done?”

  “Uh… yeah?”

  She took the cups and turned away, her spine stiff.

  I’d planned on buying a canister of the cocoa mix, but I thought better of it. Instead, I gathered up the books and CD and went to the register to pay for them.

  Mitch was nowhere to be seen.

  ON MY way out of the mall, I passed the Hallmark store and then backtracked. There weren’t a lot of people I needed to get Christmas cards for—my friends, mostly—but I wanted to get a special one for Dad.

  After I selected the cards, I went to take a look at the ornaments. Peanuts, Star Wars, Star Trek, Disney. Would Mrs. Wilder like a Barbie ornament, or would she consider that chauvinistic?

  An hour later I came out, shaken. I’d spent over two hundred dollars on the ornaments alone.

  Would the next vampyr who came to call chew me out—I gave a hollow laugh at my unintended pun—for spending so much?

  Well, the ornaments would be good for years and years and years, and I’d promise faithfully to cut back on my spending.

  And I was good with the wrapping paper and tape. I’d stocked up early in November when one of the local pharmacies had a buy one get two free sale. I probably had enough for the next ten years, at least.

  I pushed open the door and walked out of the mall, and for a second I was afraid I wouldn’t remember where I’d parked my car, but it was as if I had a GPS system wired into my brain. I followed my nose, figuratively speaking, and found it without any trouble.

  I stowed the bags in the trunk and drove away from the mall. It was getting late, and I still had to pick out a tree.

  THE TREE looked good in front of the bay window in the living room. It wasn’t big, only about five feet, but it was full, and it was worth what I’d paid for it.

  Next to the Christmas tree lot, a stand had been set up by local craftspeople, and I’d found the perfect nativity scene. Now it was beneath the branches of the Scotch pine: a stable made of real wood, with thatch o
n the roof and stalls for the ass and the oxen, the Holy Family, the three wise men, assorted shepherds, sheep, and angels. And, of course, the manger for the Baby Jesus.

  Whatever vampyr came to call next was really going to be pissed with me.

  Ah, screw it. Life was too short.

  I plugged in the tree lights, put my new CD in the player, made myself some cocoa from the mix I stored in the cupboard, and got comfortable on the love seat.

  Hanging from the mantel was a pair of stockings. One had my name on it, and the other had Adam’s. I’d found them in a kiosk in the center of the mall a couple of weeks before and hadn’t been able to resist them.

  Was it foolish of me to hope he might come to visit?

  Well, maybe, but I could dream. I took a sip of cocoa, careful not to poke my eye out with the candy cane that flavored it, and let the holiday music wash over me.

  On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me….

  IT WAS starting to snow by the time I pulled into Dad’s driveway just after noon on Christmas Eve. I popped the trunk and went around to get my suitcase, which was mostly filled with presents—I still had clothes here and had only packed a dress shirt and trousers for Midnight Mass—and the box of Italian pastries.

  Bringing the cannoli hadn’t really been a joke.

  I’d called shortly before I left, and he said he’d leave the door unlocked for me, so I let myself into the house. “Dad?”

  There was the sound of nails on the hardwood floor, and then a young dog with the blue eyes of a husky but the smooth black coat of a Lab came trotting in.

  “Woof!”

  “Well, hello to you too.” I set the box on the counter, went down on a knee, and began to make friends with him. It had been a few years since we’d had a dog. I hadn’t liked the thought of Dad being alone after Adam took me to my little bungalow, but even though he was seeing Mrs. Wilder, now he’d have this pup to keep him company at home.

  “Ty!”

  “Hi, Dad.” I grinned up at him. “I see I’ve been replaced.”

  “You’re irreplaceable, son, but it got lonely around here without you. I went down to the shelter and found him on Cyber Monday.”

  “What’s his name?” I rose and we shook hands. That kind of surprised him, and it still bothered me, but it was Christmas Eve.

  “Harker.”

  “Huh?”

  “From Dracula?” He gave a slight smile. “I thought it was appropriate.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Put your suitcase in your room and freshen up. I’ll put the cannoli in the fridge.”

  MIDNIGHT MASS was over, and we were heading out to the parking lot.

  “Hey, Small!”

  “Hey, Black!”

  “It’s good to see you, dude!”

  “Don’t give me that bull, Jimmy. I thought you were going to pay me a visit.” I hadn’t felt comfortable calling on the phone, so I’d e-mailed him my address and directions, but he’d never shown up.

  “I was, but I got so lost I couldn’t tell down from up. I was too embarrassed to tell you.”

  That was Jimmy. He could get lost in his own bathroom. I bit back a snicker as we faux bumped knuckles, bringing them close but not touching.

  But then I got an uneasy feeling. Dad hadn’t been able to find my place, either.

  Unaware I was starting to worry about that, Jimmy continued. “Anyway, your dad said you’d be coming down for Christmas, so I figured I’d see you now. Hi, Mr. Small.”

  “Hello, Jimmy. How are your parents?”

  “They’re good. They’ll be going to the 8:00 a.m. Mass tomorrow.”

  Dad and I nodded. We’d known for as long as we knew the Blacks that they preferred the 8:00 a.m. Mass, no matter if it was Sunday, Christmas, or Easter.

  “They send their best and want to know when they’ll see you again.”

  “At the next dance, for sure,” Dad said.

  I gave him a curious glance.

  “I’ve… uh… taken up line dancing.”

  “Line dancing? Oh, Dad, where did I go wrong?” I turned to my friend. “You try to raise them right—”

  “That’s enough of that, young man.” But Dad knew I was teasing. I was so pleased he was getting out of the house. Was that where he’d met Mrs. Wilder? “And how’s your sister doing, Jimmy?”

  “She’s fine.” Mary Jo Higgins, née Black, had been my babysitter, back in the days when I’d needed to be babysat. She’d gone to college, and two months after graduation had gotten married to Evan Higgins, who’d helped start the Gay-Straight Alliance at their college. She still lived in Clewiston with her husband and kids. “She just made me an uncle.”

  “Again?” She and her husband had had two babies before their second anniversary. “That makes three, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. And that’s the last. She told Ev if he didn’t get snipped she’d do it for him!”

  “She always was spunky.” I laughed, remembering the times she’d kept both her brother and me in line. “Well, tell her I said hi.” I looked around. “Where’s the gang, Jimmy?”

  “Den and Mike decided they wanted to spend Christmas in the big bad city.”

  That didn’t surprise me too much. They’d never been particularly close to their families, and they’d usually spent the holidays with either Jimmy or me or Kenny, who’d also been in our homeroom class. “What about Kenny?”

  “He and Chrissie are on again.” The captain of the football team and the head cheerleader, they were a high-school cliché.

  “Seriously?” That really surprised me. Their relationship in high school had been like that: on-again, off-again, and we’d all been certain once we’d graduated, those two would go their separate ways.

  “Seriously, dude! They’re even talking about a June wedding.”

  “What, this June? How’s he going to support her?”

  “Her dad’s giving him a part-time job until he graduates from college, and then he’s getting a corner office.”

  “Huh.” I wasn’t going to say that whatever Chrissie wanted, Chrissie’s dad made sure she got. It was true, but in spite of that, she was a sweet girl.

  “No, I know what you’re thinking, but Kenny seems cool with it. He’s talking about us being his ushers.”

  “No kidding? Uh… me too?” I wasn’t certain if the friendship had survived my moving out of town.

  “Yes, you too.”

  That was pretty cool. “What about you, Jimmy? Are you still seeing Sheila?” A brunette with gorgeous blue eyes framed by glasses that made her piquantly cute, she was the classic geek, and all the guys drooled over her. Well, except me.

  “No. She was accepted at Cornell, and we….” He sighed, looking wistful. “We decided a long-distance relationship was just too much work.”

  “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  He shrugged. “How long are you staying, Ty?”

  I let him change the subject. “Until the beginning of the week, unless Dad kicks me out sooner.” Dad snorted, and I knew if I didn’t have that problem with being touched, he’d have whacked the back of my head. “Did you know he replaced me with a puppy?”

  “Yep.”

  “And you never told me? Jimmy, you’re supposed to be my friend!”

  “Well, you moved out. The Harkster’s staying.”

  “Harkster? James, James, James!”

  “And that reminds me! How the f—” He glanced at Dad, cleared his throat, and changed what he’d been about to say. “How the heck were you able to afford a house?”

  Okay, here it was, the question I’d been dreading. But Dad and I had discussed it, and we’d decided what spin we were going to give it. “Well, you know I’d saved a bunch of money to go to Disney World, but when this house came on the market, it was too good an investment to pass up, so I used my savings as a down payment. Dad cosigned with me, and there you go.”

  I held my breath, waiting to see if he’d buy it. He look
ed like he might challenge me, but then I heard a voice I never thought in a million years I’d be grateful to hear.

  “Yooo-hooo! Benjamin!”

  “Shoot, Dad! Here comes Mrs. Andrews!” She’d lived next door to us for as long as I could remember, and her main goal in life was to know everything that was going on in the neighborhood.

  “Ty, I’m outta here!” Jimmy knew her as well. “I’ll see you before you leave.”

  “You bet.” I let out the breath I’d been holding. I hated lying, wasn’t good at it, and I was relieved the rest of this conversation was tabled for the time being. “How about if we catch a movie? Saturday or Sunday?”

  “Sounds great. I’ll give you a call. I… uh… want to talk to you. Bye, Mr. Small! Merry Christmas!”

  “Bye, Jimmy. Merry Christmas to you and your folks.”

  My friend made good his escape before I could ask what he wanted to talk to me about, and I stood fidgeting beside Dad. “What did you tell her about why I’m not living at home anymore?”

  “Relax, Ty. All she knows is you got a job out of town with your Uncle Dave.”

  “Who?”

  “My middle brother.”

  “You really have another brother?” Other than Uncle Phil, Dad had never spoken of his family.

  “Not amusing, Tyrell.”

  “Tell me about it. It would have been nice if you’d mentioned something about him sooner. You know I’m not a good liar.”

  “He’s in construction, just like your grandpa—”

  I had a grandpa?

  “—and you’re his helper. You’ve been on enough jobsites with me to fake it.” He raised his voice. “Ah, Mrs. Andrews. Merry Christmas!”

  “Now, now. How many times have I told you to call me Marian? Merry Christmas, Benjamin, Tyrell.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Andrews. How have you been? Looks like we’re going to have a white Christmas,” I babbled, barely giving her time to answer. “Well, it was nice seeing you, but we have to get going. Uncle Dave’s waiting for us.”

  “Oh? I didn’t know you had an uncle.”

  “Yeah, I do.” Nosy biddy. As if it was any of her business.