Foolish Me Page 22

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn’t catch my breath. I thought I’d gotten my equilibrium back, but I guessed not. Here I’d been thinking Wills was trying to find a way to let me down easy, when all along he’d been trying to propose!

  “Theo? Say something, babe!”

  “Yes!”

  “Yes? You will?”

  I pulled him to his feet and into my arms. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Each yes was interspersed with a kiss.

  A tapping on the door brought us back to the present. “Not to rush you guys or anythin’, but Cris an’ I are gettin’ a little thin in the skin out here.”

  “We’ll be right there, Tim.”

  “His accent comes and goes, doesn’t it?”

  “Noticed that, did you? A lot of times it depends on how Southern he’s feeling.” I laughed. “Let’s go tell him!”

  “I think I’d feel more comfortable dressed, if you don’t mind?”

  I kissed him again, wrapped my arms around him, and buried my face in his neck. I could spend the rest of my life kissing him, and it looked like I was actually going to get that chance. “I don’t mind.”

  The hallway was empty when I opened the door and peeked around it, and we raced down it naked to the spare bedroom.

  “This is a nice room.”

  “I knew you’d think so once you saw it with your eyes open. I won’t be sorry to leave it, though.” I tossed him a pair of shorts and took another pair for myself.

  “It’s a good thing I have the weekend off. We can go shopping for rings tomorrow, and I’ll get the supplies and fix the wall on Saturday.”

  “Rings? We’re going to exchange rings?”

  “Definitely. I want you to wear my ring, and I want to wear yours.”

  “You’ll wear one too?”

  “You bet. Didn’t you notice? All the men in my family do.”

  “Even your Uncle Pete?”

  “Yeah. He and Dave exchanged their Corps rings, so no one really knew.” He stepped into the jeans I gave him. They were a little loose in the waist and long in the leg but otherwise fit him well enough.

  “So… uh… we’re engaged?”

  “Yep.” He propped a foot on the bed and cuffed first one leg and then the other.

  “And we’re… uh… we’re gonna get married?” I handed him one of my shirts.

  “Yep.” He shrugged the shirt on over his shoulders and reached for a button, then paused. “You’re not getting out of it, Bascopolis, so don’t even think of trying.”

  “Oh, what, you’ll slap me with a breach of promise suit?”

  “Damned straight. You can’t play fast and loose with my heart.” He stood there with his hands fisted on his hips.

  The shirt hung open, and I slid my arms through the opening and around him, drawing him against me, caressing the warm flesh of his back, scarcely aware of the scar any longer. “I love you, Wills.”

  “Theo.” He wrapped his arms around me and held tight. “I knew you loved me—all the things you’ve done for me—but it was worth the hell these past two days were just to hear you say those words.”

  “You never pushed me for them.”

  “If they aren’t given freely, what good are they?”

  “That ‘if you love someone, let them go’ thing?”

  “Kind of. Only I have no intention of letting you go. Ever. So get used to it. I’ll hunt you down and tie you to me if I have to.”

  “Bossy bottom.”

  “Maybe, but I’m your bossy bottom.”

  “Guys! Sometime in this century, please?”

  “In a minute, Tim!” With a final kiss, I let Wills go, and we buttoned our shirts. “It’s a good thing white socks and oxfords don’t look too bad together.”

  “You just want to see me in white socks.”

  “This is true.” I sat on the bed and tied my running shoes. “Babe, when did you want to get married?”

  “Since I did the asking, you get to do the choosing, but just so you know, I don’t believe in long engagements.”

  “Soon, then.” I chewed on my lower lip. “I’d like to ask my family to come. I don’t know if Poppa will, but I’d like to ask.”

  “Whatever you want, babe.” He was grinning.

  “What?”

  “We’re getting married!”

  “Yeah, we are. Let’s go tell Tim and Cris before Tim breaks down the door.”

  OVER DINNER we discussed the wedding—who to invite, the most convenient location to have it in, where we’d go on our honeymoon, where we’d be registered—“No, I’m kidding, babe!”

  “I’m not. How does Bed Bath & Beyond sound?” He was flushed and happy.

  “It sounds…. Wills, whatever you want is fine.” I was pretty giddy myself. Compared to what I’d been feeling only a few hours before… well, there was no comparison.

  “Stay the night with us,” Tim suggested as I packed my carry-on.

  “Thanks, but….” Wills exchanged a glance with me. He hoped to make the drive in nine hours.

  “We have to go.” Our bed was waiting for us. I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. It was going to be our first time.

  “Well, we’ll expect an invitation to the wedding.”

  “You’ve got it. Thank you, Tim, for everything.” I hugged him and kissed his cheek.

  “You’re welcome. I wish you would have let me buy you champagne to celebrate, though.”

  “Another time. Wills doesn’t drink and drive.”

  “All the more reason, then. You’d have stayed over.” He turned to Wills. “I’m glad we were finally able to meet.”

  Wills offered Tim his hand. “I wish Theo had talked to me first, but I’m glad he has a friend like you to go to. Thanks for being there for him.”

  “Glad I could. I’ve always looked on him as family. You make sure you’re good to him, you hear? The next time he comes runnin’ to me, I’ll tear off your head and piss down your neck.” Tim let his hand go, and Wills flexed his fingers and shook them out. Surreptitiously, Tim did the same.

  “There won’t be a next time. I take care of what’s mine.”

  “Hey, I’m right here. Don’t talk about me as if I weren’t.”

  Wills smiled, that lopsided grin, and touched his tongue to his upper lip. “Is everything packed?”

  “Yes. And Miss Su is in her bag and ready to go.”

  “You sure you want us to keep all the toys Tim bought for her?”

  “Yeah, Cris. She’ll have something to play with when we let you guys kitty-sit.”

  “Oh, we get to kitty-sit?”

  “You’re her godfather, Tim. Who else would we leave her with when we go on our honeymoon?”

  Wills wound his fingers in mine and gave a brief squeeze, then released them and picked up Miss Su’s bag. “Ready, babe?”

  We went down the stairs and through the pub. As Tim had said, it was quiet, with only a handful of men sitting around the bar.

  “We’ll take over in a minute, Tom.”

  “No rush, buddy. I’m experimenting with the formula for a new drink.”

  “Recipe!” Tim corrected with a laugh. “Tom used to teach chemistry at Pulaski and Jasper College here in Savannah.”

  We called good-bye to his friends and continued out to where the Dodge was parked at the curb.

  “Bye, Tim. Bye, Cris. Thank you both again.” I got in beside Wills, waved a last time, and then looked ahead as he put the car in drive.

  WE DIDN’T sing “Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” but we did play a grown-up version of “I packed my bag to go to Grandma’s,” including lube, sex toys, and various articles of clothing. The man had a phenomenal memory and recited back everything in perfect order.

  “… a pair of silver mesh briefs, and…” He took his eyes off the road for a second to smile at me before adding, “… a wedding ring.”

  I sighed happily. “Well, you win. After that, there’s nothing else I’d want to bring.” B
ut there was something I needed to know. “Wills….”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Why didn’t you come home early on”—it was after midnight now—“on Wednesday, like you said you would?” If he had, maybe this could have been cleared up before I’d had a meltdown and run away.

  “There’s a rest stop coming up.”

  “Uh…. Okay.”

  He guided the Dodge onto the exit ramp, into the parking lot, and found a spot at the far end where no other car was parked. “Do you want anything?” He gestured toward the concession area as he turned off the ignition and the headlights.

  I shook my head, and he nodded, unbuckled his seat belt, and turned to face me. I could just see his expression in the light of the full moon.

  “I… I got something in the mail on Wednesday.”

  “No you didn’t.” I’d been at home, and all that had been in the mail were utility bills.

  “The mail at work, Theo.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  He reached across to take my hand. “It was a padded envelope from Michael’s parents, and it had gone from Virginia to Massachusetts before arriving in DC.”

  “That’s kind of roundabout.”

  “Not really. The Shaws live in Williamsburg and didn’t know I’d transferred to DC, so they’d….” He paused for a moment. “I’ve been here in DC for a few years now, and so was Michael.”

  “So he didn’t tell them?”

  “I guess not. I’m not sure why he didn’t….” He sighed. “Yeah, I know why. I got along well with his parents. I still do. I’d hate to think he was jealous, but it wouldn’t surprise me.” He sighed again and shook his head. “Anyway, they sent the envelope to Cambridge, and then Dad sent it down to me.”

  “Got it. What was in it?”

  “A VHS tape. The tab had been snapped off to prevent it from being recorded over, and the label on the spine read, ‘Property of William Matheson. Make sure I get this back, Michael.’ The handwriting was an approximation of mine, but it wasn’t mine.”

  “It was Michael’s?” The bastard. Why couldn’t he stay out of my lover’s life?

  “Yeah, it was Michael’s. I had no idea why he’d done that. My first thought was maybe it was a porn tape that he’d made of himself that he didn’t want his parents to know about. Jesus, Theo. What kind of friend thinks that about a friend?”

  When the friend is Michael Shaw, who’d died of autoerotic asphyxiation, but I didn’t say that aloud.

  “There was a note in the envelope from his parents. At the time they sent it, it wasn’t quite a year since we’d lost Michael. It was hard for them, and they hadn’t been able to go through his things until just recently.”

  “And they found the tape and thought it belonged to you.”

  “Yes. They apologized for the delay and ended the letter by saying they hoped I’d come visit them one day soon. Because I was Michael’s best friend. Some best friend. The anniversary of his death was a couple of weeks ago, and I hadn’t even realized it.”

  “Babe, you were out of town on an important job.”

  “Yeah. But….” But he was still beating himself up over it. “Don’t you see, Theo? Michael and I were friends from the time we’d met in sixth grade. We went through high school and college together, even belonged to the same fraternity. It was my fault we began drifting apart after our junior year. I wanted more than he’d been able to give, and he pushed me away.”

  How the fuck could anyone push Wills away? I gritted my teeth. It was a fucking good thing Michael was dead, because otherwise I’d have killed him for how he’d treated the man who was supposed to be his friend.

  “When did you get to see what was on the tape? I’m assuming it wasn’t porn?”

  “No. I almost wish it was.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a small TV/VCR combo in my office. I turned it on and put the tape into the slot. For a few seconds there was nothing but snow, but then the picture cleared. Michael was sitting on a couch in what must have been his apartment.” He looked away. “I wouldn’t know. He never invited me there.”

  “Wills….” But what could I have said?

  “The couch was some neutral color. It looked expensive, but it didn’t look very comfortable. On the wall behind him was a painting in oils of the two of us in our caps and gowns. I recognized the way we were posed. You’ve seen the picture.”

  “The one above the mantel in the family room in Cambridge?”

  “Yeah, that’s it. Dad had taken it, and Michael must have asked him for a copy and had the painting made from it. I never thought….” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, the Michael on the tape stared into the camcorder’s lens, and it was like he was looking into my eyes. Something was wrong. Usually he was so cocksure I wanted to kick his ass, but this time— He looked awful, Theo. His face was gray, and from time to time his knuckles would turn white, as if he were trying to contain pain. He had cancer, he told me… prostate cancer. He was dying.”

  “Oh, babe. I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But isn’t that an older man’s disease?”

  “Yeah. Pissed the hell out of him. He’d been to every specialist on the East Coast, and they all told him the same thing… it was a fast-growing motherfucker.”

  “What about surgery? Radiation therapy? Chemotherapy?”

  “I thought about that myself, but apparently he’d asked what his options were and was told none. At the time he made the tape, he was on Percocet. He said the pain wasn’t too bad, but I knew he was lying when he admitted he’d have to go on morphine soon.” Wills looked so sad.

  I couldn’t bear how sad he looked. “He couldn’t have been in that much pain, not if he scarfed.”

  “I don’t know. We’d grown apart. He said…. Never mind, that isn’t important. What he wanted me to know was that he’d been in love with me—”

  Goddammit! I’d known that son of a bitch was going to pull shit like this!

  “—but he couldn’t live with the thought of being called a fag, so he’d gone back to his girlfriend.”

  “Would you…. Wills, if he were still alive, would you have gone back to him?”

  “What, now?” That seemed to shake him out of his grief. “Are you nuts?” His eyes narrowed. “Or are you trying to get rid of me?”

  I smacked his shoulder. “Asshole. We’re engaged, in case it’s slipped your notice.”

  “Okay, as long as we have that straight.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “Huh? Oh.” He smiled for the first time since I’d asked him why he hadn’t come home early, took my hand, and twined our fingers together.

  “So what was the tape in aid of? Saying good-bye?” Making Wills feel guilty?

  He was quiet for a few minutes, and I wondered what had been behind Michael sending Wills that tape. Finally, he said, “He asked me to put flowers on his grave.”

  Jesus, is that maudlin or what? But again, I didn’t say that out loud.

  “I’d told you his parents were told he’d been killed in a home break-in, hadn’t I?”

  “Yes. I couldn’t understand that.”

  “Neither could they, but you see, the company we work for takes care of its own. No parent should know their son actually died with a noose around his neck while he jerked off, so Michael’s death certificate listed the cause of death as a gunshot wound. After I’d watched the tape, I knew I had to let his parents know what had happened the night Michael died—oh, not that he’d scarfed, but that he had what he felt was a logical reason to fight back. He was dying, so why stand aside and let himself be robbed?”

  I rested my hand on his knee and nodded.

  “Michael never told them what was going on in his life, so he wouldn’t tell them he was sick. They knew that. But I could tell them. It would give them some closure. So I drove to Williamsburg and spent the afternoon consoling them. Or trying to. I didn’t realize how the time had flown.” He scrubbed his face again. “I
called to tell you I was on my way home, and I got that message. I didn’t know what was going on. And then when I finally got home, you were already gone. And you’d set the CD player to repeat on ‘Goodbye to Love.’”

  I’d hurt so badly, and all I wanted was to hurt him in turn. “I… uh… about the greeting on the answering machine… I changed it after I thought you’d cheated on me. I’m sorry, Wills.”

  “No. Don’t you say that! You have nothing to be sorry for. If I hadn’t put Michael ahead of you… if I hadn’t been so concerned about his parents…. They’re good people, but they’re not family!” He leaned toward me and cupped my cheek. “I swear I’ll never do that again, Theo. No matter what, you’ll come first.”

  I turned my face and kissed his palm. “So you screwed up, and I screwed up. We’ll do better next time, won’t we?”

  “You bet.”

  “Now, suppose we get back on the road? I want to get home and make love to my fiancé.” And we still had about five more hours.

  “Great idea, babe.” And in spite of the fact that we could be seen, if anyone cared to look, Wills urged me closer and kissed me.

  Chapter 19

  WILLS MADE good time, and he was about to merge onto the 395, when he said, “I want to return the vase to the florist and have a talk with the proprietor.”

  I’d been thinking dreamily of our wedding, and those words brought me to the present with a start. “I’m sure the switched cards were just a mistake.”

  “Maybe. What pisses me off is that some jerk-off’s wife or girlfriend got the card meant for you, and she’ll have no idea what a scumbag he is.”

  I had to agree with him. “When I read that card and thought you were apologizing for screwing around…. The thought of you with another man just about killed me, Wills.”

  “I’m definitely going to talk to the proprietor. This was unnecessary.”

  “I don’t think I would have overreacted the way I did if I’d heard from you during the time you were away. I… I kept picturing you dead.”

  “Oh, baby.” He reached for my hand. “I’m so sorry. The job was for one of my superiors, and he gave me strict orders to contact no one….”