December 1st
Gerry
7:28 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Exhibition starts in half an hour, queue half way
around the block outside, someone get me a stiff
drink, a stiff boyfriend and a mallet for the stiffs in
suits who WONT GET OUT OF MY FACE or STOP
FLAPPING
7:29 am
To: Gerry, Niall, BigBear
I keep telling you to do what I do and
hire some eye candy to serve drinks.
Then you've got something nice to look
at until the alcohol takes effect.
Gerry
7:31 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
It’s breakfast time in Seattle and I have no alcohol,
I am horribly, horribly sober. Ash hid the key to the
cocktail cabinet last night. I ask you. I’m on espresso #5.
Should I worry?
Niall
7:33 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
Yo, Overcaffeinated In Seattle…..
Can you still see straight??
Step AWAY from the coffee
Darcy
7:34 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
Only if you're showing off glass tonight,
then I might make myself scarce. If it's
linens or ugly paintings, then it shouldn't
matter if your tremors knock anything over.
Gerry
7:35 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Yeah if I took your advice the paintings would all be
draped in that sparkly apricot chiffon that looks like
a fairy threw up and surrounded by your nine foot
tall skeletons with long hair.
Darcy
7:37 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
They’re mostly fun to be around. You’re serving
drinks there this morning aren’t you? Can't you
switch to something better than espresso?
Gerry
7:39 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
We’re serving coffee and champagne with Danish pastries.
Seriously. I’m now on espresso #6. This one has vanilla.
According to Tia who just dropped off flowers I look
slightly manic. Ya think???
Ash
7:39 am
To: Gerry
How is it going sweetheart?
Still breathing?
Gerry
7:40 am
To: Ash
Everything great, standing by,
doors open at eight!
Ash
7:42 am
To: Gerry
Good, stay off the coffee and sugar
Niall
7:43 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
Ger, STEP AWAY FROM THE COFFEE
or give your phone to someone still sober
Darcy
7:43 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
Darling, I told you, you needed to let me
get the chiffon out and help with this one
Gerry
7:44 am
To: Ash
Never mind the coffee, I’m about to
Mingle with a glass of champagne.
Lock up your sons and husbands.
Ash
7:45 am
To: Gerry
Mine doesn’t need locking up,
he just knows what’s good for him.
Have fun, I’ll pick you up at noon,
hope it goes well.
Gerry
7:45 am
To: Ash
Kisses
Gerry
7:46 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
It's just coffee, I AM sober, that's my whole
problem. Just had to go tell a journalist to
please stop knocking on the door, it will open
when we're good and ready. i.e. when the suits
GET THEIR ACT TOGETHER. Now one of
the artists is having a meltdown…
Gerry
7:48 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
The chiffon doesn't sell art to high society.
Besides, Ash helped me a bit to set up last night.
He did NOT approve of the extra bits I wanted to
add to one of the nude pictures.
Bear
7:50 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, Niall
Xmas lites & a cowboy hat?
Niall
7:52 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
ROTFL
Darcy
7:55 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
LOL Probably improved them no end.
I might try that with the French models,
might improve them too?
Gerry
7:59 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Nearly. Doors opening. Oh good grief.
WTF do I do
with a woman in fox fur
at 8am in the morning?
Niall
8:02 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
NO ONE answer that, or the phones
will be
confiscated by the fbi.
Darcy
8:03 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
You put the coffee and the phone down,
calm down, quit
texting and go do
some work maybe?
Gerry
8:05 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Go and sound all reasonable why don't you.
I hung
in there as long as I could when you
had a boring show, at least until Ash took
my phone away.
Darcy
8:06 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
It wasn’t boring it was classy
Gerry
8:06 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Yeah that was not what you were saying
at the
time…..
Darcy
8:08 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
You’re panicking over how many people there?
Thirty?
My last show was six hundred?
Gerry
8:09 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
I am NOT panicking
Darcy
8:10 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
Then try doing some work?
Gerry
8:11 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
I AM fricking working what do you think
I’m doing?
If you think you can do it better,
you come take over and bring the chiffon
Niall
8:12 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
Girls girls girls. Play nice.
Darcy
8:12 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
Ger, call Ash if you’re getting in a
state, you’re
what he's good at.
Gerry
8:13 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
Like you’re qualified to know.
Niall
8:15 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
Hey, that was uncalled for
Gerry
8:16 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
If you think you can do it better you come do it.
Be my guest. Bring the thong and anything else
you’re currently using to tart
at whoever you’re
working with.
Bear
8:17 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, Niall
Gerry back the hell up
Niall
8:17 am
To: Gerry, Darcy, BigBear
Whoa. Seriously!
Niall
8:19 am
To: Darcy
Darce ignore him and turn your phone off
for a few
hours, he’s in a state and taking
it out anywhere he can. He doesn’t mean any
of it.
Niall
8:19 am
To: Gerry
Gerry, you’re going to be sorry for
this later if
you don’t pull it in.
Darcy
8:20 am
To: Gerry, Niall, Big Bear
Ok, whatever. I've got to get a designer talking
to
a planner. Must be nice to have help on tap
whenever you need it, even if
you’re too stupid to
use it. Ta ta for now.
Gerry
8:21 am
To: Niall
Pull WHAT in, he’s the one making out
I’m sitting
on my butt flapping while he
has the big career! You’re not exactly
perfect
either you know?
Gerry
8:22 am
To: Darcy, Niall, BigBear
“Hi.” Ash kissed him, putting his hands on Gerry’s hips to survey the caramel in the saucepan, then turning the gas off on the hob. “Yes, eventually. We’re not going to flick that anywhere. I don’t think it’s a good night for making spun sugar. Come with me.”
“It’s for this recipe that I read that looked lovely – what?” Gerry went where he was led and blushed a little at the sight of the hall. “Oh. Perhaps I was a little distracted, I came home early like you said, I took a shower, I was doing my nails because I was thinking all day they were a mess and then the phone went and I wandered with that and then I looked at the time and thought-“
“Why are you bringing those up here?” Ash paused, shirt unbuttoned, and put a hand over Gerry’s, drawing him over to look more carefully at him. Chattering at high speed, large eyed, charming and not really concentrating on anything much, and yet he didn’t look very happy. Gerry looked down at the towels as if he’d forgotten he was holding them.
“Want to tell me about it?”
Which sounded perfectly reasonable. Except Gerry usually gloried in the social chaos of the gallery, he loved bustle as much as he loved this time of year, and looked forward from the beginning of December to heading to Wyoming as soon as their holiday started.
It was the start of his deepening Ole Man River drawl that went right along with Bear draining IQ points on the spot, it was his main way of avoiding conversations he didn’t want to have and Theo got straight to his feet.
Riley, who had napped a good part of the way since they’d left before dawn, glanced across Jasper to catch Dale’s eye and grinned at him.
“This place is a showcase for why people should have to pass intelligence tests before being allowed to drive.” Flynn paused to glower at a woman trying without much success to reverse her car into a narrow space. “There are lines. The lines demonstrate where to park. What twerp parked there with both tyres over the back line and one over the side line-“ he broke off on a muttered curse as the woman failed again and pulled forward for her fifth try, looking close to tears, and Paul took a deep breath as Flynn clicked his seatbelt off, flung the driver’s door open and strode over to the struggling car. Dale got out of the passenger seat and came round to take Flynn’s place, starting the engine and backing the four by four discreetly into a vacant space while the woman, who had initially frozen with terror as Flynn approached, gladly got out of her car and Flynn took her place and parked it for her, positioning it as exactly as he manoeuvred his horses. The woman’s appreciation in her face as he handed her keys back said that the grimness in his face belied both his eyes and his voice.
“Can’t you and Dale go and do this bit and we’ll meet you somewhere afterwards? You’re the ones who’re good at it?”
“We have the annual jeans fight because you’re hard on your jeans, most of yours have gone at the knee and been washed to death. You and Riley wear out at the very least four or five pairs a year and if I buy any brands I can get from Jackson, you say you can’t ride in them and won’t wear them.”
“I do not say anything of the kind, jeans are jeans. It’s perfectly straight forward, we just bulk buy whatever works, the same design and stockpile them.”
“North pole?” Dale suggested.
“Yeah you would know that. Page 17 of the National Geographic?”
“Let’s assume these ones are part of Dale’s declining population and moonlighting for some extra income. It’s nice. It’s Christmassy, you’ll live.” Paul steered an unenthusiastic Riley towards Flynn. “If you want to bulk buy that sounds a great idea to me but Riley you need at least three pairs. Flynn, you need five because I’m throwing out every pair that are falling apart.”
“You can get through three pairs in a day and most of yours are nearly rags.” Paul pointed out, looking straight back at him. “Five. I mean it. And both of you try them on, be sure you’re actually going to wear them. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”
“Have you any idea what it’s like messing around with changing room queues and curtains?” Flynn demanded. Paul took Dale’s arm and led him away, turning his back on Flynn and Riley both.
There was no sign anywhere of Jasper. Paul turned in a circle scanning the crowds and sighed.
“I saw it.” Dale said briefly which Paul understood meant that it was committed to memory whether he wanted it to be or not. Paul gave him a quick smile and touched his face.
“Want me to go look at the tills?” Dale suggested. He left the bags with Paul and efficiently swept the store, dodging shoppers with carts, small children and no sense of direction, and checking each of the extremely long lines in turn which were not going to be something Riley or Flynn would be enjoying, but there was no sign of them. Paul was still alone when he returned to the front of the store, and Paul glanced again at his watch.
“And you didn’t buy anything?”
“Right.” Paul put the bags down. “Dale, stay here and wait for Riley, and when he shows up tell him from me he stays with you until we get back.”
“I’m not going back in there until I damn well know where Riley is,” Flynn said shortly and Paul put a hand in the small of his back, pushing him towards the menswear department.
“He’ll have gotten distracted by something, he’s lost track of time and I promise you he’s going to be fine until I get hold of him.”
He dragged Dale with him to the window of a small shop with gadgets whizzing around in the window, several executive toys which Dale had seen plenty of gracing desks of men old enough to know better and most of whom had probably had severely stunted emotional skills. These days he looked at this kind of thing and instead of impatience felt a very wry sense of understanding.
“I’d have loved to have got Philip something like this,” Riley said admiring a small helicopter circling a pad. “This would have really made him laugh.”
“Did you ever come here shopping with him?” Dale asked with curiosity. The thought of Philip walking through this mall on this annual pilgrimage was a nice one.
It was surprisingly strongly apple flavoured. They were half way across the main aisle when they saw Flynn and Paul heading towards them, Flynn at a rapid stride and not looking happy.
“We have no idea if Luath actually wants a coffee maker at all,” Flynn said darkly, falling into step beside Dale. “There are coffee shops all over the place in New York, and it’s not difficult to just boil a pot of damn coffee, you don’t need some ridiculously expensive gadget taking up space on the counter. What are you paying for? All it does is heat coffee.”
“Flynn.” Paul said evenly. “I love you dearly. But shut up now.”
“They’ve had some kind of row by text,” Flynn sipped tea. “How you row by text I don’t know, but Ash said it got a bit heated, a lot of other people got involved and no one’s talking to anyone else, Gerry’s not very happy and talking about not coming here for Christmas.”
“Niall?” Jasper said, surprised. Paul winced.
“If Wade’s involved then Niall will be.” Riley predicted, “And Gerry and Darcy. Supposing Darcy wants to come or someone makes him.”
“We’ll worry about that in the morning.” Flynn sat back, putting Riley on his feet. “You two upstairs and get ready for bed. I don’t want to hear it Ri, it was an early start this morning.”
“It’s also the problem with this kind of thing being talked about privately between ourselves as speculation and someone then using it against Darcy in the heat of the moment.” Jasper added levelly. “It’s never good having this kind of thing unsaid openly, it just creates ammunition. Do we know where in France?”
“Feel like smarting off a bit more?” James inquired. “Do take your time, I can wait.”
“Thanks, I’m smarting enough now,” Wade informed him, and yelped a good deal louder as James briskly reversed him and swatted him a further three times still harder, his voice dropping into a much more respectful tone.
“Lose the pants.”
“Now let’s have a chat about attitude.”
The spoon snapped smartly down, once on each side, and Wade grunted and closed his mouth quickly, ducking his head.
“I’m sorry.” Wade squirmed a little, testing James’ grip, “I’m done, I promise.”
“That’s a good start.” The spoon lifted and snapped down, punctuating James’ lecture, leaving blazing spots of sting where it fell, “We are going to be dealing with this mess. Properly, without attitude, smarting off, disrespect or rudeness. Am I making myself very, very clear to you?”
“Do I have your full attention now?”
“Yes sir.” It came out faster and more emphatically than Wade had meant, but it was very sincere.
“Then let’s talk about how we sort out this mess with the texts. You and Niall are coming with me to Wyoming-”
“I think we’ll just make sure. Twelve sound enough to you?”
“I know,” he said directly against Wade’s ear, “You’re bored and frustrated and you miss Charlie to tell about this because you won’t bend your stubborn neck and tell me when you need help. And you’re lonely, which you won’t talk about either, and you hate that you’ve been part of the kids getting into a mess.”
Wade nodded against him, and James kissed the side of his face hard and handed him his trousers. “Get dressed. I left Niall in a hotel by the airport to get some rest, he’s been too wound up about Darcy to be able to sleep much.”
“Where is Darcy?” Wade, pulling trousers on, gave James a quick look that held a fair amount of subdued concern. “No one seems to know more than ‘France’.”
“I don’t think anyone’s heard more than that.” James collected Wade’s keys, coat and case and waited for him, holding the front door open. James-like, he’d checked the windows and doors carefully the exact same way that Charlie used to do. “Let’s go, we’ve got a plane at ten.”
At all. Ever.
“Let’s go then.” Luath laid money on the table and got up, aware that Darcy slipped past him before he could help slide Darcy’s chair back or touch him.
From
there Luath stood still, looking up at the magnificent building that reared up
out of this corner of the island to dominate the skyline high above them. A
mighty grey stone edifice almost a thousand years old, crafted every inch by
hand over a century in the days when it
was normal for a master craftsman to begin work that thirty years later would
be continued by his son and thirty years after that would be completed by his
grandson. Whole generations of families had committed their lives to building
this piece of sacred art, this palace of God with its arching flying
buttresses, its walls alive with faces of the statues that covered the façade.
The ornate wooden doors stood among the many faces of the saints that looked
down on the square, above the deep steps to the open entrance, rows and rows of
them. It was a moment before Luath looked to Darcy whose eyes were fixed on the
renowned gargoyles that stood out from the high walls and for the first time
his attention was wholly on what was in front of him.
“It’s all right.”
“It’s been a really bad few days.”
“Has it?” Luath said quietly. Darcy let go a shaky snort.
“You two, find yourselves something to do in the study.”
“Start at the beginning.” James suggested quietly. “What started it?”
“Not helpful.” Theo told him firmly.
“While you were waiting for it to start.” Niall added without opening his eyes.
“And then a totally unacceptable jibe that Darce basically sucks off anyone he’s working for,” Wade added bluntly with a glare at Gerry. “Darce bit back. A lot less than I would have done, but I didn’t blame him, and pretty much everyone else did too.”
“Yeah I bet you will.” Riley said half under his breath and Flynn swatted him before he kissed him and put him down.
Flynn snorted softly, running his fingers slowly up and down Dale’s spine, and he looked down to meet Dale’s eyes. The dark green was intensely gentle, as was his voice, the look and the tone that went deep in to Dale’s guts every time. “Yes. But that was Philip. Every one of us lived with Philip first, he had that relationship with all of us. It’ll work out, probably when everyone’s less tired and jetlagged tomorrow. James has been part of this house for sixty years, Ash and Theo know what they’re doing, they’ve all known each other a long time. This is not your problem to solve, kid. Let it go.”
“You haven’t reached a definite conclusion, the data’s still percolating, you don’t want to talk about it or you don’t think I want to hear it?” Paul looked at him, dark blue eyes glinting with humour in the soft way they had that always made Dale want to get closer to him. He did so on impulse right now, folding his arms around Paul’s neck. Something that was also easy when alone with Paul at this hour, and Paul hugged him back tightly.
“It is ok that this isn’t finished yet, this is not your problem to solve. It’s just a storm in a tea cup. Look at me.”
Dale returned the eye contact fully, as Paul expected, and Paul put a hand up to brush his hair back from his forehead.
“The data’s still circulating.” Dale admitted. Paul gave him a searching look, but nodded slowly.
“It is going to be ok.” Paul finished the last of the tea and leaned over to put the mug in the sink. “If I end up having to bang heads together, we’re not going to waste another day on this.”
Flynn came into the kitchen, headed for the fridge and pulled out a carton of juice, flipping the top and standing where he was to drain it. Paul shook his head at him.
“No need, it’s almost empty.” Flynn finished the carton and crushed it, dropping it in the trash. “I heard the others getting up. I don’t know what their plans are yet, but if Bear and Gerry were mine I’d be putting them to work on something heavy and as mucky as possible this morning.”
“They are yours in plenty of ways. Suggest it.” Paul told him. Flynn pulled his boots on at the door, reaching down a jacket.
“If I’m asked, of course I’ll help but I’m not shoving in where I’ve got no right to shove, we need to do this their way.”
Ash gave Dale a calm smile as Dale came up the porch steps and went on sweeping the porch with an eye on Gerry. Paul was setting the table for breakfast as Dale went in to clean up. On winter mornings like this they started early and stopped for breakfast around nine thirty when the first morning chores were done, getting as much done as possible in the short hours of daylight. It meant coming back to breakfast in less than clean clothes, but Dale scrubbed his hands and came back into the kitchen where James was sitting with a cup of tea and Paul was filling two breakfast trays.
“How are you feeling?” Dale put the tray gently down on the empty side of the bed and Niall gratefully picked up the cup of tea, burying himself in it.
Dale took a seat on the edge of the wooden framed bed and Niall drew up his knees, sipping tea. He was long and thin, Niall. Delicately built, with a straight nose, straight brows and soft dark brown eyes that gave him a faintly birdlike face. It was a gentle face; he moved gently, he spoke gently and with an expressive and rather deeper voice than you expected. Dale never had the slightest difficulty understanding how he held such force in a court room. It was the kind of voice you stopped to listen to, he’d seen men with this power of acting before in other powerful roles, men who didn’t need volume or force to make themselves felt. Although when he was here with James, Niall seemed to relax with bliss into the quiet of James’ shadow and to enjoy being the quieter of the two of them. Dale thought of him as usually being a very peaceful man.
“It’s not like Riley and I don’t understand.” Dale said frankly. “It’s the same for us, I think it’s the same for all of us? Is there anything I can do that would help?”
“He’s shifting rocks outside.”
Niall winced. “Possibly now I’m glad I got told to stay in bed. You’d better go love, you’ll be in trouble for fraternising with the condemned. Dale?” he added as Dale got up. “Has anyone heard anything at all from Darcy?”
“Paris.” Luath said easily. “It was beautiful, I recommend it.”
“Has it got very bad in there?” Darcy asked Jasper.
But no communication.
“Or that’s anyone else’s business.” Luath added.
Darcy didn’t answer but it definitely seemed to help; Dale saw him swallow hard and he returned the hug. There was a very crowded moment where the kitchen was full of bodies, Darcy and Luath were surrounded by people, someone went to get their cases from the car, Paul put the kettle on and their coats were taken, chairs were found for them.
“Don’t bother sticking around, they’re still acting like a massed pain in the butt. If they were fricking horses I’d have the lot of them doing circuits on a leading rein, and I’d get a fricking crop out too. A big one.”
“I’ve noticed that, but I didn’t think that took away the responsibility.” Dale said aridly. Riley nodded definite confirmation to him, and around the table Bear, Wade and Gerry all reacted. He saw the unwilling acknowledgement, they every one of them knew it because they’d taught it to him. “Don’t we all have it? All anyone needed to do was talk to Ash or ask their partner to talk to Ash. That would have been it. Darcy might not have that obligation in the same way but the rest of us I know very well do. So this is what is going to happen. Gerry, you’re up. Now. You have exactly a minute, so do the others, and then we are going to be done with this. Get a bloody grip.”
“Wade.” Dale said crisply. Wade gave him a look that was part amused and part appreciative, nodding to him.
“Bear.” Dale turned his eyes to Bear, making a brief glance at his watch. Bear looked back at him, then looked across to Niall.
“I know,” Gerry said shamefacedly, “You’re right, it did and I’m very sorry about it.”
“Then I’m kind of sorry for nagging at you, but I still think you asked for it and apologising doesn’t make everything right.”
“I should have gone straight to James.” Niall looked briefly at James who was watching him, face expressionless, but Dale could see they’d been holding hands beneath the level of the table for a while. “I’m as responsible as anyone else for this getting to be an overinflated mess, and Dale’s quite right, we all know better.”
Flynn nodded, looking up at the now rather stricken looking five men around the table.
Whatever you say. You give the designer
one from me
sweetheart.
Seattle, Washington. 5.30pm.
December 4th
It was going to be one of those evenings where
given half a chance, Gerry would flit around the house doing about twelve
different but nonspecific things without any of them getting to the point of
being done. Ash, experienced in these matters, recognised the signs of it as he
took his coat off in the hall, eyeing the flotsam of dropped towels, nail
files, clothes and cups. Their house often reflected Gerry’s state of mind if
Gerry was left alone in it for a few hours. Gerry was in the kitchen and gave
him a distracted wave with one finger from behind a saucepan into which he was
trickling a long stream of something brown from a wooden spoon.
“It’s supposed to be spinnable at this temperature,
it says here. Flick rapidly back and forth over a rolling pin…. Hello my
darling. Did your client show up?”
“Hi.” Ash kissed him, putting his hands on Gerry’s hips to survey the caramel in the saucepan, then turning the gas off on the hob. “Yes, eventually. We’re not going to flick that anywhere. I don’t think it’s a good night for making spun sugar. Come with me.”
“It’s for this recipe that I read that looked lovely – what?” Gerry went where he was led and blushed a little at the sight of the hall. “Oh. Perhaps I was a little distracted, I came home early like you said, I took a shower, I was doing my nails because I was thinking all day they were a mess and then the phone went and I wandered with that and then I looked at the time and thought-“
“Pick up the towels and straighten this out right
now.” Ash interrupted him firmly, going upstairs to change. He paused in the
doorway of their room, slightly thrown by the sight of most of Gerry’s wardrobe
laid out in piles on their bed, then walked past it to find home clothes in his
own wardrobe. “And then come and put this away too.” He added towards the
stairs in a louder voice.
Gerry, bringing the collected damp towels upstairs
with him, gave him an apologetic look from the doorway. “Yes, well I wondered
what went with that green tie I couldn’t find anything to wear with the other
day and then I thought I’d just have a sort through- yes, yes, put it away, I
know.”
“Why are you bringing those up here?” Ash paused, shirt unbuttoned, and put a hand over Gerry’s, drawing him over to look more carefully at him. Chattering at high speed, large eyed, charming and not really concentrating on anything much, and yet he didn’t look very happy. Gerry looked down at the towels as if he’d forgotten he was holding them.
“Do you know, I don’t know? I must be having a hot
flush kind of a day. I’ve been thinking, wouldn’t it be nice to have Christmas
here this year and not have to go anywhere? Just us? Make a bit of a change.”
He said it so lightly and casually, such an earth
shattering thing, that it confirmed every suspicion Ash had.
“We’ll talk about it when the house is straight.”
He turned Gerry towards the door with a swat to get him moving. “Take the
towels down to the laundry room. Then come straight back and put this mess
away.”
“Oh you’re such a drill sergeant.” Gerry told him,
going.
Ash stood over him and kept him at it while he put
the clothes away; in this mood without a firm hand it didn’t take much for
Gerry to get distracted, start trying things on, get side tracked onto
something else entirely or begin a meltdown about his waistline. Being hustled
through sorting out a physical mess to a complete conclusion sometimes helped
him act out the process of sorting his thoughts out when he was feeling
scattered, although it wasn’t something Gerry ever liked to do. Once he closed
the wardrobe on the last shirt, Ash led him downstairs and picked up the phone
to one of their favourite takeaways, ignoring protests about spun sugar and
ordering a meal to be delivered. And then took Gerry with him into the kitchen,
putting him down in his seat at the kitchen table while he opened the fridge,
found the bottle of wine cooling there and poured them both a glass. Gerry
accepted the glass rather gratefully, giving him a rueful look as Ash sat down
opposite him.
“I think I might be being a little frenetic.
Sorry.”
“Want to tell me about it?”
Gerry sipped wine, giving him what Ash thought was
a rather brittle smile. “Oh just this week, that’s all. Too much to do,
Christmas coming, parties booking, it’s all a bit crazed.”
Which sounded perfectly reasonable. Except Gerry usually gloried in the social chaos of the gallery, he loved bustle as much as he loved this time of year, and looked forward from the beginning of December to heading to Wyoming as soon as their holiday started.
“And that’s the truth, the whole truth and nothing
but the truth?” Ash said mildly. He saw Gerry’s slightly trapped look and
nodded slowly, keeping his voice gentle. “No more chases to Texas, remember?”
“For goodness sake, you say that if I get annoyed
the mail’s late, you’d think I made a habit out of racing to Texas every time I
get the least bit upset. I was upset about the surgery, it was something major,
it was different.”
“It’s why we practice with the little things, isn’t
it? Sweetie I can see you’re upset about something.”
“You might trust me and believe I meant it when I
promised you I wouldn’t do that again.” Gerry got up in high dudgeon, voice
rising in pitch as much as volume, and Ash reached over to grasp his hand
before he could depart in a manner that was painfully near to flouncing,
winding his fingers through Gerry’s.
“I won’t sit down, I don’t want to sit down.” Gerry
said sharply in a tone that was threatening to become tearful. “A few towels
and you act like I’m having a nervous breakdown-“
Ok. There were several ways this would go if
allowed to continue, none of them good, and from experience Ash knew the direct
route always worked best. Gerry in this mood would inevitably wind higher and
higher until he broke, distractions would only slow the process, and often the
quickest way to end it was just to cut straight to the breaking point he
wanted. Ash drew him gently around the table by their clasped hands, sliding
his chair back to make space, and Gerry immediately pulled on his hand, his
voice rising another half octave.
“No! That’s not fair-”
It took a firm and practiced pull to get him off
balance and really he wasn’t resisting much. Ash tugged Gerry down into his
lap, pulling him close and holding him tight enough to contain the squirming
protest, and for a few seconds Gerry was as stiff as a board. And then abruptly
he twisted around and folded his arms tightly around Ash’s neck and Ash felt
him start to shake as the tears started.
Once the first hard burst was past he calmed quite
quickly, but to Ash he felt limp and heavy rather than at all relieved by it.
And all the time he was making soothing noises, Ash was racking his brains
thinking over the past few days because there had been no clues, nothing at all
about anything that could have thrown him this much.
“Are you going to tell me?” he said gently in
Gerry’s ear when he thought Gerry was calm enough to hear him. “What happened
today?”
Gerry sat back a little, running a shaky hand over
his face until Ash put his own hand up to smooth tears off each cheek. He
looked distraught. Miserable and frightened and as if the world had ended.
“It’s all such a mess. Everything. It’s such a mess
and it’s all my fault, I hate myself.”
“Nothing is going to happen that we can’t handle,
you know that.” Ash said quietly. “Tell me about it and we’ll straighten it
out.”
Gerry’s phone buzzed its text alert from its place
over on the counter by the charger. It had buzzed several times while they’d
been sitting there; texts arrived constantly on Gerry’s phone which was partly
why the phone lived on the counter when they were home and there was limited
times in which Gerry might answer them. But Gerry, who had been too distracted
to notice the earlier ones, tangibly jumped as he heard this one arrive, and on
impulse, looking at his face, Ash reached over to pick up the phone.
He heard Gerry start to protest, a strangled “no…”
that trailed off as soon as Gerry realised he’d given himself away, and he
became still limper and heavier with defeat and turned his face into Ash’s
shoulder as Ash opened the screen. It took a moment to read the text and make
sense of it since it was not at all what he expected. A few minutes more to
scroll through the conversation and then read the other text threads. All this
time Gerry sat in silence within his free arm, face hidden. When he was up to
speed with the content, Ash sat with the phone in his hand, resisting several
very impractical and unhelpful impulses. And then, making sure Gerry could see
him do it, he turned off the phone and pocketed it, and pulled Gerry closer to
hug him tightly.
*
Portland, Oregon. 8.15pm
Bear was flat on his back under the kitchen sink,
which meant most of his top half was obscured inside the under sink cupboard.
He’d been looking with suspicion at their sink trap since breakfast and since
he was the only one of the two of them who understood plumbing, Theo had been
playing a minor supporting role and handed him tools and tested taps until the
phone rang. As Theo came back into the kitchen Bear’s gleaming and clean shaven
head re-emerged for a moment and then a hand reached out. His deep voice echoed
slightly from within the cupboard.
“Pass me that wrench?”
Theo crouched to get it from the open and brimming
tool box and hand it over, peering under the sink at the piping.
“Can you see the problem?”
“A crack. Thought so. Replacing it.”
Bear vanished back into the depths again. Theo
watched him, propping his elbows on his knees.
“That was Ash who just rang. I need to see your
phone please.”
Both large, bare arms were occupied but a socked
foot indicated the direction. “On the side.”
Bear didn’t sound surprised. Theo reached up to get
the phone, taking a seat on the kitchen floor near him.
“Want to tell me about it or do I just look?”
There was a clunk of metal separating and a grunt
of satisfaction from beneath the sink. “Ger’s being an ass.”
He said it quite matter of factly, as though this
was a known quantity. It was usual for Bear in the occasional rows and fights
that broke out; he never exactly joined in and Theo knew pretty much what he’d
find as Bear’s contribution to the mayhem Ash had described. There was no spite
anywhere in Bear, he was usually a very open hearted man. There was however
tremendous will and downright stubbornness, and once he’d made up his mind,
Bear would defend a position bluntly forever no matter what the opposition and
it took an awful lot to shift him. Theo didn’t know of anyone but himself or
Philip who had ever succeeded.
“Ash says Gerry’s pretty upset.”
“His own
fault.”
“He’s in
quite a state. Ash spoke to James and apparently Niall’s not doing too well
either, he feels responsible.”
“Not his
fault.”
Bear’s tone contained regret for that, but implied
in no way that he intended to change his course of action. There had been
plenty of barneys before where Bear had resolutely stuck to his expressed point
of view that Gerry was being an idiot and refused to budge from it, and he
could drive Gerry to distraction. They’d been bickering in this way for about
twenty years along with Darcy, Wade, Niall and once upon a time Roger, and had
a lot of practice; the minor rows and falling outs that were inevitable between
a close knit group usually blew over fast. But Ash seemed to feel this was
something different.
Putting his back to the kitchen cupboards Theo
opened the phone screen and read through the multiple texts there. His eyebrows
raised as he went further down the list and he whistled softly at the last few,
starting to see what Ash meant.
“Bear….. this has gotten nasty.”
“Yeah.”
There was a metallic clunk and the grind of
something tightening and Bear emerged from the cupboard, lumbered to his feet
and turned the taps on with a sweet smile of satisfaction. Theo watched him
check the water flow and the new junction for leakage, then tapped his knee.
“Put the wrench down and talk to me please.”
Bear looked at him with innocent, liquid brown
eyes, shrugging his massive shoulders. And there was the party line, and the
texts confirmed that Bear would hold that decision until the facts were changed
by Gerry apologising. As far as Bear was concerned it wasn’t complicated.
“When did you last hear from Darcy?” Theo asked him
seriously.
“Darcy fine.”
“Has he told you so? When was the last time any of
you heard from Darcy?”
Bear shrugged again, indicating the phone. “Yes’day
mornin’.”
It was the start of his deepening Ole Man River drawl that went right along with Bear draining IQ points on the spot, it was his main way of avoiding conversations he didn’t want to have and Theo got straight to his feet.
“Nooo I didn’t mean that!” Bear said very quickly
and a good deal more coherently before Theo could take any more steps to the
jar where a group of brightly coloured Kool Aid spoons resided. “He was ok
yesterday morning. He’s upset but he’s not stupid, he’s ignoring Ger. Good
thing too.”
“I’d rather know more than hoping he’s ok.” Theo
said wryly, folding his arms. “Has he let anyone know where he is or what’s
going on?”
“Just that he’s in France somewhere.” Bear
admitted. “I guess he must be busy.”
“Guess or hope?” Theo asked him.
Bear’s large, soft eyes weren’t particularly
certain.
*
December 4th 10.25am
Cheyenne, Wyoming
Flynn drove. Paul had debated this with him in the
yard before they left but Flynn was utterly immovable that if he had to go to
Cheyenne and spend four hours in a car instead of doing something useful then
he was at least going to be bloody well driving. And not parking anywhere they
were going to charge a whole lousy dollar for a space when the whole point of
the parking spaces was to generate revenues for the shop, which was why they’d
be better off shopping in Jackson if there was anything they actually needed.
When he discovered people selling tickets at the
entrances to the car parks this year which were refundable with coffee in
certain outlets, the unfortunate man who came to his window and offered him the
ticket was only saved by Paul swiftly leaning across him from the passenger
seat and pressing a dollar into his hand while grabbing the ticket too fast for
Flynn to oppose.
“Thank you.” He said sweetly to the man who looked
from his smile to Flynn’s expression and moved on to the next car with all
speed.
“Just park.” Paul said sitting back. “Breathe and
park, it’s fine.”
Riley, who had napped a good part of the way since they’d left before dawn, glanced across Jasper to catch Dale’s eye and grinned at him.
“This place is a showcase for why people should have to pass intelligence tests before being allowed to drive.” Flynn paused to glower at a woman trying without much success to reverse her car into a narrow space. “There are lines. The lines demonstrate where to park. What twerp parked there with both tyres over the back line and one over the side line-“ he broke off on a muttered curse as the woman failed again and pulled forward for her fifth try, looking close to tears, and Paul took a deep breath as Flynn clicked his seatbelt off, flung the driver’s door open and strode over to the struggling car. Dale got out of the passenger seat and came round to take Flynn’s place, starting the engine and backing the four by four discreetly into a vacant space while the woman, who had initially frozen with terror as Flynn approached, gladly got out of her car and Flynn took her place and parked it for her, positioning it as exactly as he manoeuvred his horses. The woman’s appreciation in her face as he handed her keys back said that the grimness in his face belied both his eyes and his voice.
“How long is this going to take?” Riley asked
plaintively as they started the walk across the parking lot towards the main
entrance. The place was seething with people, most of them headed towards the
shopping areas and their pace was fast enough that they were having to weave
around them.
Paul, taking the notebook out of his pocket, shook
his head.
“Don’t even start.”
“Can’t you and Dale go and do this bit and we’ll meet you somewhere afterwards? You’re the ones who’re good at it?”
That sounded a reasonable idea to Dale but Paul
shook his head with absolute determination.
“No, because this is not Dale’s responsibility. Or just mine.” Paul found the page he
was looking for and kept pace with Flynn’s brisk stride into the main
concourse. The wave of powerful heating hit them as soon as they passed the
entrance in a wash of dusty, stale air, Christmas lights flashed and hung from
the ceilings in all directions and the place was flooded with people. Music was
playing loudly on the speakers; Dale, blinking slightly on the shock of so many
lights, didn’t recognise the tune and the tune appeared distinctly dodgy to him
but every third word appeared to be ‘Christmas’ to ensure that you got the
point. He glanced at Jasper who was not a fan of electronics or noise and
Jasper, hands in the pockets of his dark brown leather jacket, gave him a calm
smile. Paul, still reading his notebook, put out a hand to catch Flynn before
he strode any deeper into the crowd.
“Stop a minute. Flynn, you and Riley-“
Flynn paused with exasperated courtesy to let an
elderly couple hesitate in front of the concourse signs and take their time
making a decision on where to go. “Every year we have this. I don’t need jeans,
I’ve got a drawer full of jeans, let’s just get what you need and get out of
here.”
Paul skirted a woman with a triple buggy and three
small children, smiling at the smallest one who was waving a half sucked candy
cane.
“We have the annual jeans fight because you’re hard on your jeans, most of yours have gone at the knee and been washed to death. You and Riley wear out at the very least four or five pairs a year and if I buy any brands I can get from Jackson, you say you can’t ride in them and won’t wear them.”
“I do not say anything of the kind, jeans are jeans. It’s perfectly straight forward, we just bulk buy whatever works, the same design and stockpile them.”
Flynn looked with loathing at a large display of
animatronic polar bears which were yawning, stretching and looking up at a set
of stars which flashed in time to a loud and tinkly version of The Carol of the
Bells. A set of mechanical penguins were flapping their wings and singing from
red carol sheets beside them.
“What do penguins and polar bears even have to do
with Christmas?” Riley said behind him.
“Peace on earth, goodwill to all men, hug a polar
bear. I missed that part.”
“North pole?” Dale suggested.
“How many polar bears are actually at the north
pole anyway?”
“Of the recognised populations, eight are
declining, three are stable, one is increasing and seven have insufficient
data.” Dale said without thinking and Riley dug him in the ribs with one elbow.
“Yeah you would know that. Page 17 of the National Geographic?”
“Page 28, paragraph four, edition November 1992.”
Riley laughed. “I’m going to check, I swear you
just make this stuff up.”
“How much space are these taking up and how much
power are they burning?” Flynn said darkly to the penguins. “The whole point of
malls is to enable efficient purchase, these are a-“
“Let’s assume these ones are part of Dale’s declining population and moonlighting for some extra income. It’s nice. It’s Christmassy, you’ll live.” Paul steered an unenthusiastic Riley towards Flynn. “If you want to bulk buy that sounds a great idea to me but Riley you need at least three pairs. Flynn, you need five because I’m throwing out every pair that are falling apart.”
“They’re comfortable and there is no need for
anyone to buy five pairs of jeans, that’s ridiculous. Two at the very most.”
“You can get through three pairs in a day and most of yours are nearly rags.” Paul pointed out, looking straight back at him. “Five. I mean it. And both of you try them on, be sure you’re actually going to wear them. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”
“Have you any idea what it’s like messing around with changing room queues and curtains?” Flynn demanded. Paul took Dale’s arm and led him away, turning his back on Flynn and Riley both.
“Jas-“
There was no sign anywhere of Jasper. Paul turned in a circle scanning the crowds and sighed.
“I hate it when he does that. Let’s try Sears too,
we’ll just avoid the menswear section.”
It was crowded in the department store but the
lights and decorations still fascinated Dale. This was only the second
Christmas he’d ever really looked at or participated in this; he knew probably
as little about British shopping experiences as he did about American ones, but
there was something about being with Paul in the atmosphere of cheerful chaos
that was very appealing. They did the home and wear section thoroughly row by
row in the way they both liked, and Paul, with his easy knowledge of the wider
family, what they were currently doing, what they liked and their individual
interests, had no difficulty matching person to item. From what he could
remember of the letters Paul regularly shared at breakfast, Dale contributed
and kept track of prices and positions of items and by the time they left Sears
they had accounted for seven of the people on the list.
There was no sign of anyone else outside. Paul
glanced at his watch and leaned against the wall.
“Ok hon, let’s prepare for this. If I have to, I’m
going to drag Flynn back in there and stand over him until he’s chosen jeans
he’s actually going to wear and then I’ll get enough pairs to get him through
the year and hide them until they’re needed. Why don’t you and Jas go and look
through the book store next? I had a list of what everyone wanted in there-“
“I saw it.” Dale said briefly which Paul understood meant that it was committed to memory whether he wanted it to be or not. Paul gave him a quick smile and touched his face.
“No, you’re not the family catalogue, stop it. Take
the list, relax and enjoy yourself. Where is everyone?”
“Want me to go look at the tills?” Dale suggested. He left the bags with Paul and efficiently swept the store, dodging shoppers with carts, small children and no sense of direction, and checking each of the extremely long lines in turn which were not going to be something Riley or Flynn would be enjoying, but there was no sign of them. Paul was still alone when he returned to the front of the store, and Paul glanced again at his watch.
“This isn’t like them, Flynn’s usually out of that
place like a cat with a stepped on tail.”
“There he is.” Dale straightened up at the sight of
Flynn striding towards them looking exasperated. Paul sighed.
“And he’s either managed to fit five pairs of jeans
in his pockets or he hasn’t bought anything. Where’s Riley?” he added as Flynn
reached them. Flynn barely glanced at him, instead scanning the crowd around
them.
“No idea, I’ve spent the last half hour looking for
him. It’s like playing football without the bloody ball in there, it’s
impossible to stay together.”
“And you didn’t buy anything?”
“I can’t find anything.” Flynn said irritably,
still searching the crowd. “There were a couple of thousand people everywhere I
tried to step and piles of black jeans. I’m not wearing damn black jeans around
the place and there isn’t a single label anywhere I recognise,”
“Right.” Paul put the bags down. “Dale, stay here and wait for Riley, and when he shows up tell him from me he stays with you until we get back.”
“I’m not going back in there until I damn well know where Riley is,” Flynn said shortly and Paul put a hand in the small of his back, pushing him towards the menswear department.
“He’ll have gotten distracted by something, he’s lost track of time and I promise you he’s going to be fine until I get hold of him.”
Resisting the urge to grin to himself, Dale put his
back to the wall and watched the lights and the people passing, finding himself
humming along with the music on the speakers which was a faster version of a
carol he remembered singing years ago at school.
Tomorrow shall be my dancing day, I wish my true love would so chanceTo see the legend of my play to call my true love to the danceSing oh my love, my love, my love, my loveThis have I done for my true love
It meant a great deal more when you had some
concept of what a true love was. Or had four of them.
It was a long time before Riley emerged from the
crowds carrying a stuffed bag of denim in one hand, and gave him a cheerful
nod, sliding down the wall to sit beside him.
“I lost Flynn hours ago. Where is everyone?”
“Paul’s insisting he buys jeans.”
“Yeah well good luck with that. When I last saw him
he was muttering about straight leg and hipsters and all kinds of crap being on
every label and there’s pictures of models everywhere posing in ‘cowboy’
clothes they’d never be able to get on a horse or muck out a corral in, do you
know how much that ticks him off?” Riley glanced at the pile of bags and got
back up again, grabbing a handful of them. “You’ve got the car keys haven’t
you? Let’s go stuff this lot in the trunk and we won’t have to carry it.“
“Paul said to tell you from him to stay here.”
“Trust me, they’re going to be hours. Come on.”
There was still no sign of Jasper. With definite
experience that if Paul said ‘stay there’ he meant it and this wasn’t a great
idea, Dale picked up the rest of the bags and went with him. It was cooler and
quieter outside but the parking lot was chaos. They shut the bags in the trunk
and Riley paused again by the polar bears and penguins as they re-entered the
mall, shaking his head.
“It could be worse. It was singing elves last year,
remember? Hey, look at that.”
He dragged Dale with him to the window of a small shop with gadgets whizzing around in the window, several executive toys which Dale had seen plenty of gracing desks of men old enough to know better and most of whom had probably had severely stunted emotional skills. These days he looked at this kind of thing and instead of impatience felt a very wry sense of understanding.
“I’d have loved to have got Philip something like this,” Riley said admiring a small helicopter circling a pad. “This would have really made him laugh.”
“Did you ever come here shopping with him?” Dale asked with curiosity. The thought of Philip walking through this mall on this annual pilgrimage was a nice one.
“Paul said he did used to, but he wasn’t up to the
journey or to wandering around here by the time I came.” Riley drifted into the
doorway of the shop with an arm still linked through his, looking with him at
the other gadgets there. “He liked Jackson though. I went there with him plenty
of times. And
that’s the cupcakery over there if
we’ve got time to kill, come on.”
“…Ri…”
“What?”
Riley paused to look at him, bouncing on his toes with his exaggeratedly
innocent hazel eyes dancing under unusually tidy chestnut coloured hair since
he, like Dale and Paul, was bareheaded where Jasper and Flynn had worn Stetsons
like they did every day they stepped outside. “Do you see anyone who’s bought
jeans yet?”
It
was an impossible to resist expression, it really was, and with the bustle
around them, the music and the atmosphere of cheerful chaos, Dale very
reprehensibly felt any desire to be responsible or even vaguely mature melt
away and abandon him. Riley grabbed his hand, towing him briskly through the
crowd towards the bakery on the other side of the mall.
The
display of items in the window was large and brightly coloured and appeared to
make sense to Riley who examined the stacks with appreciation.
“Yes, death by chocolate! What looks good
to you?”
Dale
looked with mild alarm at the explosion of icing in improbable colours.
“What
are these anyway?”
“Cupcakes?”
Riley looked askance at him. “Please tell me you know what they are?”
“Well
cake, obviously?”
They
bore no resemblance to anything Paul ever made, and Dale’s experience of cake,
or at least his conscious experience of cake probably started and finished
there. It hadn’t been something pushed on plates at him during business meals
or conferences, from the size of these things they wouldn’t have been conducive
to meetings of any kind. Riley shook his head and pulled him into the shop,
smiling at the guy behind the counter.
“Hi.
I’ll take a death by chocolate, he’ll have… strawberries and cream, and two
glasses of milk please.”
They
were both carrying cash, it was something Flynn had made sure of before they
left this morning and Riley handed over coins as two large, icing drenched
creations were put on plates, one chocolate coloured, the other an alarmingly
bright pink, both apparently dusted with gold glitter. Riley took the tray,
leading the way over to one of the very few spare tables where he took a seat
and pushed the pink item over in front of Dale.
Dale
took the other seat, surveying it cautiously until he caught Riley Looking at
him and grinned in spite of himself.
“What?”
“If
you even think of asking for a
fork...... “ Riley warned him.
Dale
laughed, picking up the milk glass as a safer bet.
“Just
because I was raised to be civilised?”
“Yeah
and look where that got you? Peel the paper like this. Then you eat,” Riley
took a large bite of the chocolate creation, which left icing on the tip of his
nose and his chin, which he dabbed at unconcernedly with the back of his hand.
“And wear it, because it is a big impossible mess to eat without wearing, this
is the American way.”
Dale
unwound paper from the pink creation, trying to find somewhere to take a bite
without getting plastered in icing. The cake crumbled slightly at the first
bite and cream and icing smeared against his face anyway, covering his fingers
and chin and Riley burst out laughing with him.
“Yeah,
you’re getting the idea. Fantastic isn’t it?”
It
was. There was no denying it was. They ate, swapping bites of the two different
cupcakes and both were wonderful. It was wonderful to sit together in the
middle of a noisy crowd getting ridiculously sticky on something that tasted
this good and Riley had a gift for enjoying the moment and pulling you in with
him. They worked on cleaning up as best they could with the tiny napkins when
the places and glasses were empty, and Riley cleared their table and zipped up
his jacket, heading back into the cooler atmosphere of the mall and snagging
Dale’s arm.
“One
more thing to do and then we’ll go back.”
They
covered the distance across the mall in a brisk stride that was approaching a
jog, Riley’s approach towards shopping appeared to involve high speed, and Dale
blinked as Riley pulled him directly inside a brightly lit and intensely
colourful little store at the end of the row of shops. The place was littered with sweets. There was barely
room to walk between wooden barrels and bins of all sizes which were brimming
with sweets of all shapes and colours, some in bags but many just loose and
topped with a plastic scoop that looked large enough to shovel snow. Jars and
large racks of tubes of sweets lined the counters and shelves, candy canes and
swirling multi-coloured lollipops ranging from mouth sized to paddle sized hung
from the walls and the ceiling by the hundred. Riley appeared to know exactly
what to do and what he wanted; Dale stood frozen while Riley grabbed several
equally brightly coloured paper bags and simply used one of the plastic scoops,
homing in on particular barrels without hesitation.
“Jas
loves these… and Bear has a thing for sour candy – what do you like?”
Dale
put his hands in his pockets, some part of him aware that he’d retreated to
what felt like a very, very adult distance. Somewhere during his prep school
years he’d been taken once or twice in a crowd of other small boys to shops –
nothing like this, much smaller and quieter but still sweet based shops – and
the clamour and noise and wrestling over paper bags and confident excitement in
demanding the contents of the so appealing and brightly coloured jars had been
alarming and alienating, to the point he’d left to wait outside. Flynn and Paul
would both have been all over the reason why.
Not admitting or
standing your ground for something you wanted, not if anyone else was looking
or might think you cared or wanted it. Or that you were afraid to risk trying
to get it. Easier to avoid and pretend being too mature to be interested in
something so silly.
Riley
took his arm and yanked, putting a shovel directly into his hand.
“Well
get on with it? Have you got any preferences? Sweet over sour? Hard over soft?
What looks good?”
There
was another very awkward few seconds, then Riley said quizzically,
“Do you know what any of this stuff is?”
“Do you know what any of this stuff is?”
Well
rationally, yes, it was mostly sugar with various chemical additives. Riley’s
voice was somewhat gentler when he spoke again.
“It’s
ok. Hold this.”
Dale
took a deep breath and stepped up, taking the bag Riley gave him. Riley pulled
him in alongside him, indicating one at a time of a collection of bins and
barrels in front of them.
“Those
are jelly beans, get a scoop of those – go on, more than that, scoop …. And gum
balls, and these are popping candies, and these are sours…. These are
marshmallows and these are gummy bears – and these are liquorice, I can’t stand
that but Paul likes it so scoop another few of those– those are M&Ms. I
already got a bag of those, Jas is addicted to them. Flynn won’t touch any of
this stuff, he doesn’t like anything much other than peppermint and that’s only
when he’s in the mood. Gerry’s a chocolate freak and so is Darcy, they won’t
eat this either, or they’ll say they won’t but if it’s there they’ll pick at it
– Luthe likes hard candies, so does James and Niall and Colm, I got a good bag
full of them too.”
“What
do you like?” Dale, still staggered by the variety of colours and shapes he was
adding to the bag at Riley’s urging, glanced up at him and Riley shrugged.
“Anything
with sugar on. I like it all. So does ‘Lito, he’s not fussy, and Roger was
another bring it on kind of a guy when it came to candy. Think we’re done?”
This
bag, now well filled, was added to the two already full that Riley was carrying
and Riley took them to the scale where they were weighed and paid for and put
inside a larger paper carrier bag. It
was as they turned towards the door that they spotted Jasper, leaning against
the doorway in front of them with no clue for how long he’d been there
watching. Unabashed, Riley waved the bag at him.
“Yeah
I got the M&Ms.”
“I
see you had fun.” Jasper’s smile reached Dale as he straightened up, it was as
calming as the unhurried way he moved and the arm that casually rested close
around Dale’s back as they walked out together into the chaos of the mall. Riley, digging in the bag, pulled out a
couple of round, lurid coloured balls and offered them to Jasper who took one
without hesitation, and following his example Dale took the second.
“Gum.”
Riley told him. “Chew, go on. It’s good.”
It was surprisingly strongly apple flavoured. They were half way across the main aisle when they saw Flynn and Paul heading towards them, Flynn at a rapid stride and not looking happy.
“They
were with me, it’s ok.” Jasper said mildly as he reached them. “It was a long
wait. How did the jeans go?”
Flynn
gave him an expressive look.
“We
have jeans.” Paul said, demonstrating the several bags he and Flynn were
carrying. “I had to take them away from him and queue up myself but we have
jeans. And a coffee maker.”
“We have no idea if Luath actually wants a coffee maker at all,” Flynn said darkly, falling into step beside Dale. “There are coffee shops all over the place in New York, and it’s not difficult to just boil a pot of damn coffee, you don’t need some ridiculously expensive gadget taking up space on the counter. What are you paying for? All it does is heat coffee.”
“Flynn.” Paul said evenly. “I love you dearly. But shut up now.”
“And
I’m supposed to make a decision on whether he wants a red one, a green one or a
gold one?”
Paul
swatted him, hard enough that an elderly lady passing by gave them a look of
alarm.
Flynn
gave him a look that said it was going to take a great deal more than that to
change how he felt about coffee makers, then did a double take at Dale as Riley
laughed and Dale tried not to smile too obviously.
“What’s
on your teeth?”
Dale
looked up at him, startled, and Paul, catching sight of Riley’s grin, turned
Dale to face him. His tongue was bright green, just as Riley was currently
flashing blue.
“Candy.
You’ve gone green like Riley’s gone blue…. Yes and Jasper’s gone orange. What
have you lot been eating?”
“Gum
balls.” Riley flashed the bag at him and Paul sighed, looking pointedly at
Jasper.
“Great,
we’ve been here less than two hours and you’ve stuffed them with sugar?”
“Survival
strategy.” Flynn held out a hand to Riley. “Hand it over. I’ll look after that
bag.”
Riley
scuffled with him and Flynn confiscated the bag, adding it to the ones he was
carrying. Paul dug in his pocket and handled Dale a bottle of water to rinse
his mouth, keeping pace with him as they edged through the crowd. He always
looked immaculately tidy – in fact on occasions when Paul was persuading the
others to dress up, particularly Flynn and Riley who were at their most
comfortable in shirtsleeves and jeans, he found it necessary to help Dale to
dress down a little to avoid him tipping
as he so easily did into extremely formal. With an open collared navy blue
shirt collar and jacket over cords, he looked fit and casual, and moreover he
looked different. It took Paul a
moment of watching him to be certain of what it was.
It
was rather like the change in Riley, who in the years before Dale had always
been bored and fed up after the first ninety minutes shopping like this and
shortly after that would begin pleading to know when they could leave. Whatever
he and Dale had been doing with Jasper he had clearly enjoyed. The sparkle was
still in his face, he was having fun and it was infectious when Riley was
enjoying himself. A lot of it was to do with having Dale here to share this and
enjoy himself with, not to mention that Dale speeded up the process of
shopping. And Dale - the times Paul had been here with Dale before, from the
very first time when Dale had had so little idea of how to do this domestically
that he’d shut down, there had always been a… subtle sort of passivity to him.
He’d enjoyed this shopping trip with them last year, Paul had been sure of it,
but he’d still been a little stepped back from them, an observer, as if he only
felt qualified to watch. Right now, Paul could see in his eyes and the way he
moved, the little signs he looked for all the time and it meant Dale was
present. Wholly present. It was in part about his determinedly acquired
commitment over the spring that he belonged to them now and had a right to be
here and do these things. But it was also very much helped by his belief of a
job to do. Actively experiencing whatever he could, not just observing or
reading but doing, gathering in the information.
They
ate together in Cheyenne in a busy Mexican restaurant before they left the
city, and reached home shortly after 8pm. Jasper and Flynn took lanterns and
walked down to check on the corral and the home pastures full of stock while
Riley and Dale unpacked the car and saw to the putting away of the many and
multiple bags crowding the trunk. Jasper was locking up and Flynn was heeling
off his boots at the door when the phone rang and Paul, who was nearest, picked
it up and tucked it in the crook of his shoulder, going on with making tea.
“Falls
Chance Ranch? Hello Ash! Yes he’s here – is everything ok? Sure.” Paul glanced
up at Flynn who had paused to listen, and held the phone out to him.
Flynn
took the phone and sat down at the kitchen table. “Hi Ash.”
Riley
leaned on his shoulders and Flynn automatically hooked an arm behind him to
wrap around Riley’s waist and pull him around into his lap. “Mhm. Right. No, I
don’t think so but I’ll make inquiries.”
Jasper
went to wash his hands, leaving the bathroom door open to listen, and Paul put
mugs down on the table and sat down in his place. In the family room there was
the clunk of logs being moved as Dale lit the fire, then he came in to join
them, taking in the sight of Flynn and the phone and quietly drawing out the
chair next to Paul. Paul, watching Flynn’s face, saw him nod slightly a few
times, face expressionless although his voice was calm.
“That’s
the best answer I could think of, and as soon as possible. Of course not, you
live here and we’re part of it. I’ll come meet you at Jackson – sweet. Ok. Yeah
well our two don’t spend much time on the computer; that helps.”
Riley caught Dale’s eye across the table and raised his eyebrows.
Riley caught Dale’s eye across the table and raised his eyebrows.
“I’ll
keep trying and see if there’s any help he needs, I’ll do it now.” Flynn said
crisply to the phone. “Ok Ash. Goodnight.”
He
clicked the phone off and reached for his mug of tea.
“Well?”
Riley demanded from his lap. “I couldn’t hear much of that at all, just
something about Gerry?”
“Yeah
well you’re nosey.” Flynn nipped at his neck with a tea hot mouth, making Riley
crunch and yelp against him.
“Is
Gerry all right?” Paul demanded. “What’s going on?”
“He’s
fine. Ri, have you and Dale heard anything by email of what’s going on between
Gerry and Darcy?”
“No?”
Riley looked to Dale for confirmation, who shook his head. “There’s been
nothing in our box for a couple of days, I checked this morning.”
“They’ve had some kind of row by text,” Flynn sipped tea. “How you row by text I don’t know, but Ash said it got a bit heated, a lot of other people got involved and no one’s talking to anyone else, Gerry’s not very happy and talking about not coming here for Christmas.”
“What?”
Paul demanded. “It’s that bad?”
“Ash’s
plan is that if it’s ok with us they’re all heading out here tomorrow morning
to sit down together and sort it out.”
Yes.
Dale, listening to this, saw the appropriacy of this immediately. It was the
obvious sensible thing to do to come here and talk together.
Riley
rolled his eyes skywards. “Of course
it’s ok, why would he even bother asking? Who’s involved?”
“Bear,
Wade, Niall-“
“Niall?” Jasper said, surprised. Paul winced.
“Probably
not willingly,”
“If Wade’s involved then Niall will be.” Riley predicted, “And Gerry and Darcy. Supposing Darcy wants to come or someone makes him.”
“We’ll worry about that in the morning.” Flynn sat back, putting Riley on his feet. “You two upstairs and get ready for bed. I don’t want to hear it Ri, it was an early start this morning.”
“You’d
think we were going to break or something. Normal people handle a few hours
missed sleep.” Riley complained.
“Dale,
take a book with you and take a bath.” Paul captured Dale’s hand as he got up,
holding it to make Dale look at him. “Empty your head a bit. I’ll tell you when
you can get out.”
“Yes
sir.”
“And
stay off the computer.” Flynn called after them. Paul waited until he was sure
they were upstairs and out of earshot.
“What
aren’t you saying?”
“Darcy
stopped texting or replying in this middle of all this the day before
yesterday, and he’s on his own in France somewhere with a show.” Flynn leaned
over to the drawer where Paul kept the address book and searched through.
“Probably he’s just busy but Gerry’s worried about him. Ash has tried calling
and mailing him but Darcy hasn’t answered. From the texts Ash read there were
quite a few sensitive things being said, including about Darcy playing with a
lifestyle he was jealous of.”
There
was a silence broken by Paul’s exasperated sigh. “That’s Gerry, he will fling
every barb he’s got when he’s upset enough,”
“It’s also the problem with this kind of thing being talked about privately between ourselves as speculation and someone then using it against Darcy in the heat of the moment.” Jasper added levelly. “It’s never good having this kind of thing unsaid openly, it just creates ammunition. Do we know where in France?”
“Luthe
does. Ash rang him to let him know what was going on in case he knew where
Darcy was staying, but he’s not answering his cell either. Ash sent him a text
and an email to try reaching him that way. I said we’d keep trying and see if
there was anything we could do.”
Flynn
turned the book around to find Luath’s number and dialled. The phone rang for a
while and Jasper and Paul, listening in the quiet kitchen, heard it go to voice
mail.
Upstairs,
Riley changed into the t shirt and shorts he usually slept in, and wandered
across the hall to sit on the edge of the bath to watch Dale undress and climb
in. Dale leaned back in the hot water, reflecting on what he’d heard
downstairs.
“Has this happened before?”
“Rows? Oh yes.” Riley said without much concern.
“It happens, it’s pretty much inevitable. Collect together a bunch of pretty
tightly wired people like us and it’s going to, isn’t it? Although some of us
are bigger on the drama than others.”
Dale gave him a pointed look, picking up on the
teasing, and Riley smiled, flicking water at him.
“I know what’ll have happened. When Gerry’s fired
up and no one’s around to rein him in he’ll end up going straight for the
throat of whoever he’s mad at.”
Having seen the acuity of Gerry’s tongue in action
a few times, Dale could well believe that.
“And then Wade’s got a mouth and a half,” Riley
went on, “And he can’t stand Gerry doing the full Drama Queen thing and bites
back, and trust me you don’t get Wade started without a helmet and a flak
jacket on. I don’t usually see Darcy get involved much, he’s generally a bit
better off in the common sense department, but it sounds like he has this time.
Bear doesn’t know how to be mean but he says it like it is and that drives the
others crazy, and Niall will have hated every minute of it and tried to make
peace and then got battered by the others for interfering. I know the script. I
may or may not have been in the
script a few times, except Flynn usually stamps on that but good and life’s too
short to bother with the kind of crap they can start when they really fight. I’ve never known them get dragged back here to
sort it out before.”
Dale
raised his eyebrows, thinking about it.
“Dragged?”
“Well
it’s not exactly going to be optional, is it?” Riley pointed out, amused. “If I
had to guess, probably Gerry and Bear and Wade have no idea yet that they’re
headed out here tomorrow, but it’s definitely not going to be by invitation.
Darcy’s a different matter.”
“Really?”
“Of
course he is. If he doesn’t want to come no one’s going to make him. Encourage
him maybe, try to persuade him, but no one’s going to do what they’d do with
you and me and will do with the others, and just say move or I’ll move you.
We’re signed up to it. He isn’t.”
He
wasn’t the only one of the many men in the family that Dale had met variously
at Christmas and Thanksgiving and at Gam Saan’s funeral who weren’t necessarily
partnered or actively sharing in this lifestyle. There were a few others,
theoretically including Luath although Dale would have put Luath in a very
different category – he was the only one of the Tops in the family he’d ever
seen actively discipline himself or Riley and it seemed perfectly right and
comfortable to Dale that he should do so. Everyone who had lived in this house
had lived alongside this way of being if not actively participated, had
witnessed it, understood it and loved people who were actively practicing it
although there was variance in the style of it between every couple in the
family that Dale could think of. But not all of them chose it for their own
relationships.
No one second
guesses Miguel or Trent that I’ve heard.
Darcy’s the one everyone questions.
Aware
he had voiced doubts himself about Darcy before to Flynn, Dale didn’t pursue
that line of thought further.
“Would
Philip have felt he had the right to call Darcy and tell him to come home? And
would he have come?”
Riley
gave him a fairly wry smile. “Philip didn’t tend to worry about whether or not
he had the right, he just knew. I never saw him get it wrong. I really don’t
know. I never saw him give any orders like that to Darce, it just never came
up.”
*
Corpus Christi, Texas.
5th December 6.05am.
It was of benefit to both of them that older people
kept earlier hours. When James barged into the apartment via the key he and
several other members of the family kept copies of, Wade was not only dressed,
he was sitting in his chair by the window half way through a newspaper. The
look he was cast over the top of the paper was a brief and carefully
disinterested one before Wade disappeared back behind the broadsheet.
“Doesn’t anyone know how to knock these days?”
“What is going on with these texts?”
“It’s this new way of talking.” Wade lowered the
paper again. “Words on a phone, it’s a brilliant idea, go try it. In Atlanta.
Or Azerbaijan-”
James interrupted him, sharply enough to cut
through the muttering. “Stand up when you speak to me young man, and lose
that tone right now.”
Wade put
the paper down slowly and with a quizzical expression raised his hands to his
face, prodding carefully at the wrinkles as though testing they were real.
James closed a hand on his arm and jerked him straight up out of the chair,
swatting his butt soundly, several times. It shook the expression all right.
Shock replaced mocking and the “Ow – ow!”
was extremely sincere.
James
turned Wade back to face him, a good head and a half taller than him which
forced Wade to have to look up to meet his eyes.
“I’m up,”
Wade told him, a little breathless from the sting. “Ok, ok, I’m up.”
“Feel like smarting off a bit more?” James inquired. “Do take your time, I can wait.”
“Thanks, I’m smarting enough now,” Wade informed him, and yelped a good deal louder as James briskly reversed him and swatted him a further three times still harder, his voice dropping into a much more respectful tone.
“No, no sir.”
James
turned him back, not amused. “We are well past the point Charlie would have
taken his belt off. Aren’t we?”
James
knew it as well as he did. Wade blinked eyes that were threatening to water and
give the entirely wrong impression, not wanting to think about that. Charlie
hadn’t been much for second chances. He’d been good natured and even tempered
with absolutely no hesitation in drawing a line under any mouthing off to him,
and if he’d been here…..
“….Yes,
sir.”
“What
were you thinking about these texts?” James’s grasp on his arm was as definite
as the sharpness of his tone and made it very clear he had no plans to listen
to any messing about. “I’d like to know. The only thing I could think of was
that you’d lost your mind.”
“I was
stating an opinion, has that become illegal now?”
“They are
young, they have an excuse to still act stupid. Since when do you dive in and
make things worse?”
“Since
Gerald started turning it into a five star drama.”
“You know
a whole lot better than to let Gerry get up your nose and start retaliating.”
James gave him a sharp shake to make Wade meet his eyes again. “Why on earth
didn’t you let me or Luath know what was happening?
“Because
I don't need babysitters.” Wade yanked, pulling his arm free of James’ hand.
“I’m a free agent now, I don’t need anyone checking to see if what I want to
say is okay to send. I’m not senile yet.”
He was
braced for another roar of wrath – James did them quite well when sufficiently
provoked – but was surprised when James simply turned on his heel and went into
the kitchen. Wade, following him with a good deal of caution, felt his stomach
lurch hard as James tugged the right drawer open and located a wooden spoon,
closed the drawer and drew out a kitchen chair.
“You are not serious.”
James sat
down and held out a hand with a decisiveness that made it clear he was not only
serious, it was going to happen. Wade found his mouth opening and his feet
going into reverse, backing away.
“James!
This is as ridiculous as Gerry’s texts!”
“Now.”
James’
voice got incredibly deep when he really meant something and if you knew him,
it was not a tone you dared to mess with. At all. Years of experience overcame
pretty much everything else and Wade found himself going quickly enough to that
outstretched hand to avoid things getting any worse. James tended to do things
damn formally. Really horribly formally, in the same way Philip used to if
you’d gone too far, and while he was horrified by it Wade fully expected James’
clear signal to stand right beside him and the equally stern order,
“Lose the pants.”
Luath had
put a paddle across his butt – what? Over a year ago. And any one of the brats
in this family knew very well, it was hard enough handling a spanking after a
long break since the last one. Somehow you forgot that it was a great deal
worse in practice than you thought you remembered. But in the casual
conversations when he’d discussed this with them they’d been talking about
weeks. Maybe a month or two, particularly Niall who didn’t get himself into
trouble that much. None of them had meant over a year. And Luath didn’t do this
the way James did, who knew him and went all the way back with him, all the way
to the first few years they spent on the ranch together. And moreover who had
known Charlie very well and had been the first person Charlie would have always
turned to to cover this particular duty if he couldn’t, knowing James would do
the job to the standard Charlie would have done himself.
Despite
years spent facing down some extremely scary things – including aerial
firefights, landing inside a Wellington bomber which was on fire, twelve hours
spent handling a riot and being shot by a semi insane man with one leg in a
warehouse in Dallas – looking James in those blazing blue eyes and defying him
was more than Wade was able to do. Dry mouthed, Wade unbuttoned the pants and let
them fall where they slid without dignity or compassion to rest around his
ankles. And still James waited, until swallowing, Wade managed to stiffly lean
over and lay across his lap, somehow taking up that position still expertly,
and feeling James’ arm fold around his waist with far too much efficiency and
his other hand pull his underwear straight down and well out of his way with
one practised tug.
“Now let’s have a chat about attitude.”
“There
won’t be any.” Wade promised him quickly. “We can call this done.”
The spoon snapped smartly down, once on each side, and Wade grunted and closed his mouth quickly, ducking his head.
“And
still that mouth.” James pointed out. “It’s clearly been far too long if you
expect to be able to talk to me in the manner you’re trying.”
“I’m sorry.” Wade squirmed a little, testing James’ grip, “I’m done, I promise.”
“That’s a good start.” The spoon lifted and snapped down, punctuating James’ lecture, leaving blazing spots of sting where it fell, “We are going to be dealing with this mess. Properly, without attitude, smarting off, disrespect or rudeness. Am I making myself very, very clear to you?”
Breathless
and unable not to wriggle, Wade just about managed not to yell or to squeak his
reply, but it took a moment to gather himself before he could speak.
“Yes
sir.”
There was
a chance – just a forlorn one but Wade clung to it – that a widowed, elderly
and most definitely pitiable brat alone in Texas was deserving of sympathy and
the opportunity to prove that a few short swats with that wretched spoon was
more than enough to get his attention. It probably would have worked on Luath.
Wade groaned aloud as James took a firmer grip on him, thwarting a tentative
attempt to get up or at least shift to a less vulnerable position.
“Then
let’s see if I can remind you how this goes.”
And this
time he set the spoon to work properly. He was far too experienced, he knew
exactly what he was doing and he didn’t hold back; within the first few rapid
swats Wade began to yelp and twist over his knee and James didn’t so much as
slow down to let him catch his breath. It was impossible to stop the noise
escaping and with it went a whole lot too much emotion until it bubbled up into
sobbing that wouldn’t stop as the spoon went on turning his butt one solid,
blazing red. It felt like several days before James paused by which time Wade
was sobbing too hard to easily stop. He could feel James rubbing his back, a
slow and heavy comforting touch that held way too much sympathy while it
encouraged him to breathe and to cry himself out. When he was quieter and his
breathing had returned to normal he felt James swap the spoon into his other
hand and his palm rubbed Wade’s backside gently, easing out some of the sting.
“Do I have your full attention now?”
“Yes sir.” It came out faster and more emphatically than Wade had meant, but it was very sincere.
“Then let’s talk about how we sort out this mess with the texts. You and Niall are coming with me to Wyoming-”
“James!”
“-
without attitude or anything else that is going to make things worse. We’ve
been at this long enough to be able to give an example of how to do it, to
support the kids in doing a better of job of communicating than they seem to do
with their ‘texts’, and we are going as a force for calm and repair. Is that
clear?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“So how
many more do you think would be enough to keep that at the forefront of your
mind while we do it? Because we’re not having this conversation again when we
get to the ranch, this needs to be finished with.”
“None
sir! I’ll remember, I promise I’ll remember.”
“I think we’ll just make sure. Twelve sound enough to you?”
“James!”
Wade whined, twisted a little on his lap, not particularly hard, and James
simply waited, holding him right where he was, that hand still resting on his
butt. He wasn’t giving an inch, not one, which in one way made Wade madder than
hell and in another was right to the point of relief. If it had been Charlie’s
lap he was over he’d be answering for a good deal more than mouthing off and
Wade knew it; Charlie would have been the first to point out he was old enough
and experienced enough to know better and to know exactly what he was getting
himself into. Eventually, grudgingly, since James was still waiting, he managed
to get out “Yes sir.”
And heard
James’ calm “Good.” in response.
The last
twelve were delivered with his hand, not the spoon, but actually smarted worse
since his hand covered a lot more ground on already very tender butt, it was a
good deal more personal and he did it very soundly. After which James helped
him to his feet, steadied him until he got his balance and helped him replace
his underwear, although he simply helped Wade step out of his pooled trousers,
led him across the room to a very familiar junction of two walls that Wade
hadn’t taken a close look at for several years, and left him standing there.
It had
been a few years too since he’d been stood in a corner very aware he was not
fully dressed and extremely accessible if he chose to mouth off any further. It
was exactly what Charlie would have done. Wade leaned his forehead against the
wall, butt stinging hotly, although when he put a hand gingerly behind him to
rub it could have been a good deal worse. His butt wasn’t as resilient as it
had once been, but neither was James’ who understood too well being a good
eighteen months older than him and was far too good at this kind of thing. Not
for the first time, Wade appreciated why Niall worked hard mostly on not getting
in trouble.
He could
hear James moving around in the kitchen, then the click of the phone and James’
voice explaining to the receptionist of the Community Nursing Team that Wade
would be staying with family for a few days and they’d let the team know when
he was home again.
Yeah, I’m being OAPnapped.
Saying it
out loud was not an option.
He heard
James go into his room, take down a case and pack for him. Niall and James had
stayed here so often over the years they knew where everything was, Charlie and
James had been close friends although people often wondered what they had in
common. The sound of the old fashioned suitcase closures snapping shut was also
familiar. On principle Wade changed or updated as few of their possessions as
possible, hanging on to what they had both known and used, and they were
familiar to James as much as him, where Luath or Darcy struggled with a bit
when they stayed here, used to more modern fittings. The case made a quiet
clunk as it was put down in the hall.
James,
looking at the subdued but now calm slope of his shoulders, remembered very
well Charlie leaning on a rail by the water here in Corpus Christi, saying with
affection but quite definitely, “There’s never any point trying to talk to him
like that. Jolt him out of that frame of mind and after that he’ll be fine.”
Staying firmly on top of the little things mattered
with a brat. It prevented the build-up, disproportion and wrestling matches
like these. Wade would be better – and
happier in James’ opinion – living with him and Niall, or with Luath, he would
have been more than welcome in either home, but it was Wade’s choice and James
was prepared to defend that for him for as long as it was practicable and safe.
“Come
here.” He ordered. Wade turned around and padded to him, red eyed and
apologetic although he’d struggle to voice it, and James put a hand behind his
head and pulled him over into his chest, holding him closely.
“I know,” he said directly against Wade’s ear, “You’re bored and frustrated and you miss Charlie to tell about this because you won’t bend your stubborn neck and tell me when you need help. And you’re lonely, which you won’t talk about either, and you hate that you’ve been part of the kids getting into a mess.”
He felt Wade’s arms tighten around him, hanging on, and Wade’s face turn
into his shoulder. James hugged him, holding him a moment more before he said
just as categorically,
“So cut the crap. I’m going to need you to help.”
Wade nodded against him, and James kissed the side of his face hard and handed him his trousers. “Get dressed. I left Niall in a hotel by the airport to get some rest, he’s been too wound up about Darcy to be able to sleep much.”
“Where is Darcy?” Wade, pulling trousers on, gave James a quick look that held a fair amount of subdued concern. “No one seems to know more than ‘France’.”
“I don’t think anyone’s heard more than that.” James collected Wade’s keys, coat and case and waited for him, holding the front door open. James-like, he’d checked the windows and doors carefully the exact same way that Charlie used to do. “Let’s go, we’ve got a plane at ten.”
*
Pigalle district, Paris, France.
5th December.
The Theatre des Bouffes du Nord was one of the
oldest theatres in Paris, and the interior was steep and highly domed with
ornate balconies and cream and gold Victorian arches and pillars lining the
multiple tiers of seats overlooking the stage.
Paintings swathed the panels of the ceiling, and the stage and outlying
hallways were much the same wood they had been when the theatre was first built
in the 1870s.
As a setting for a designer who specialised in
romanticism and twists upon costume, it had showcased his collection
beautifully. The show had followed the theme of a masque ball, the vamped up
Victoriana of red velvet curtains, mirrors, candles and chandeliers and the
music had made for a wonderful night with a packed audience and an atmosphere
that had led to very positive reviews in this morning’s papers. It had gone
without a hitch and a very happy designer had headed to the airport at 9am this
morning.
The morning after a show was always something of a
hangover experience. The last of the lights had been dismantled. The massive
gold framed ornate mirrors that had framed the stage last night had been taken
down, wrapped, carried out and loaded onto trucks, the red velvet unpinned,
rolled up and removed, the caterers had collected the last box of glasses and
plates. The last papers had been signed and the cleaners were just finishing
off mopping the last of the glitter off the stage. It was once more an elderly,
deserted theatre space, beautiful but old and dusty and echoing.
Darcy sat in a seat some rows back from the front
of the stalls with nothing in particular left to do but no will to get up and
leave. He was the last one left. The intense act of energy and enthusiasm of
the last two days had faded, his phone was no longer exploding with texts and
calls and alerts as florists panicked and taxis got lost with crucial equipment,
models were no longer bursting into tears or hitting each other, there was no
longer a presentation team to keep together and calm. Everyone else had
dispersed to airports and railway stations or in many cases, into the city to
go shopping.
There were still actually quite a few texts on his
phone and a few voice messages too, but they were all from names and numbers he
was avoiding. He’d stopped opening texts three days ago. There were now two
from Ash – Darcy had a fair idea what they said – another from Theo – great,
someone else demanding to know how he dared upset his partner – and the
knowledge that now they all knew made things ten times worse. There was one
from Paul too, timed late last night. No doubt he by now knew all about it too.
Which meant Jasper would, Flynn would, Dale would… it was too humiliating to
think about.
Darcy shut his phone and pocketed it. He hadn’t yet
sorted out a return flight home. His urge to go back to New York or even to the
States was not strong. There was nothing in his diary for a few days, nothing
to do, he was in Paris. It ought to have been an amazing opportunity.
Damn Gerry.
No, not damn Gerry. However angry, there was still
the knowledge muttering a long way behind it that Gerry hadn’t meant a word of
it really, he never did when he was in enough of a mess and he’d be desperately
sorry once he calmed down. If you understood Gerry then you got it. But that
didn’t make it hurt any less. Had everyone else just stayed out of it and let
it go then a few days to recover a bit and it would have been fine. But no,
everyone else had to pile in and make things a whole lot worse. And Gerry and
Ash and Bear all had someone in their corner and defend them no matter what
role they’d taken in it. Even Wade did. James would step in for him in a
heartbeat, and he’d be only half a step ahead of multiple others. It was the
way they were and the way things worked for them, Darcy had seen it in action
since the very first night he ever spent at Falls Chance.
There was the creak of the aisle as another cleaner
passed through. Darcy didn’t look up until the chair beside him unfolded and
someone large sat down. It was man sized, he caught a glimpse of a large, black
hand tug on the knee of a suit, the whiff of a cologne he knew well, and
suddenly his throat seized hard, even before a familiar arm wrapped around his
shoulders. Darcy’s eyes stung and suddenly blurred hard. He tipped his head
back, looking up at the stage in front of them, holding his breath to force
himself under control.
“Are you all done here?” Luath said softly after a
while. Darcy nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Luath squeezed his
shoulders, urging him towards his feet.
“Then let’s go find a coffee shop, you’re
freezing.”
In the days when he’d spent a lot of his time
knocking about with Luath and Roger it was Luath who would know where they were
going for lunch or what time they were meeting or made sure they got to the
cinema showing on time, he was just good at organising time and people and without
rushing them he just guided things in the right direction with the same calm
assertiveness he did everything. Roger didn’t like making decisions and would
sooner skip lunch and read than figure out which restaurant to go to; Luath was
an expert in knowing what Roger was in the mood for or asking the right
questions at the right moment to find out what he wanted to eat. He was
enthusiastic about anything Roger suggested if on a particular day he was
inspired, but a lot of the time Roger had been perfectly happy to go with the
flow and loved a man who generally had a plan about most things. It had never
worried Darcy either, Flynn was like that, James was like that, Ash was like
that, Philip had been like that, it was just something in the blood of the
average Top.
In much the same way, Luath didn’t hurry but Darcy
was aware of being directed out of the theatre and across the street to a dark
wood coffee shop where Luath signalled a waiter and requested coffee and
croissants in perfect French. It had always been nice that he was used to
occasionally working in Europe the same way Darcy himself was, he understood
plane travel and staying in foreign cities because he did it too. Somewhere as
they were leaving the theatre Luath had made a gentle attempt to take Darcy’s
bag and Darcy held on to it, stepping away from him. Likewise he moved quickly
past Luath and sat down before Luath could draw out a seat for him, adding
quietly to the waiter in equally perfect French that thank you, he would have
an espresso and have a cannelle instead of a croissant.
Luath
draped his jacket over the back of the chair, sitting down opposite him. “Did
the show go well?”
“...
Yes.” Darcy pulled himself together with an effort. “Yes, the press releases
were good. I was pleased.”
“Everyone's
left, your job is completely finished?”
“Yes.
All signed off.”
“And
no confirmed flight back yet?”
“I
hadn’t got around to booking one. I wasn’t sure…. Nice city to kill a few days
in, no rush to go home.”
At all. Ever.
“Yes,
me either.” Luath said easily. “Good. It's perfect weather, sunny with a little
chill, exactly what you'd want to wander around Paris for the day. Will you do
me the honour of accompanying me on a wander?”
Darcy
looked up, surprised as the waiter brought their coffee and pastries over.
Luath could be very charming – in a real, old fashioned way, a little gentle
chivalry was something he was very good at. Luath smiled at him, his usual calm
smile, stirring cream into his coffee.
“I've
worked here many times, but I've never had the time to really look around the
city. It seems a shame, I’d like to do something about that.”
“I’ve
been in this bit a few times.......” Darcy said absently and stopped, knowing
full well at this point he would usually tease Luath about this district,
Pigalle, being the erotic capital of the city, the Soho of Paris, notorious and
filled with the edgy and wild stuff he liked to tease about… the thought of it
made his face get hot and he focused instead on an espresso so hot he burned
his mouth.
“I
was thinking quiet, beautiful.” Luath said as if he hadn’t noticed. “New York
is loud and brassy, especially at this time of year, and your show was loud and
brassy. Let's do quiet and beautiful today. How about the old part of the city?
Notre Dame. The islands.”
“I
could probably use a break from brassy.”
“Good.
And if we’re planning on peace and quiet-“ Luath pulled his phone out of his
pocket and turned it off. He did it overtly, waiting to see if Darcy would
follow his lead, and after a moment Darcy pulled his phone out of his jacket.
There were several messages flashing on the screen, Luath saw them before Darcy
powered it down. They ate, or rather
Luath ate, watching Darcy pick at the cannelle and stir his coffee and mostly
drift back into some chain of thought that made his eyes dark and his face
paler. He was still going through his very closely cropped, almost shaved head
phase, which made the fine bones of his face more prominent and the large
almond shape of his eyes stronger, and his olive skin still smoother like
marble. There was something beautifully Egyptian about it which he usually
exploited to the full with the flamboyant and revealing clothes he chose in New
York – the Egyptian look lent itself rather well to golds and bare shoulders
and pure whites. It looked less dramatic here in a plain black leather jacket,
with what looked like a black roll neck sweater underneath. In fact it was the
quietest, most discreet clothing Luath had seen him wear in years.
“Going
to eat that?” Luath asked gently when the cannelle was half reduced to crumbs.
Darcy glanced down at it, then shook his head.
“No,
I’m not really that hungry.”
“Let’s go then.” Luath laid money on the table and got up, aware that Darcy slipped past him before he could help slide Darcy’s chair back or touch him.
Darcy hailed a cab outside and Luath watched him
stare out of the windows as the city rolled past, four miles through the centre
of Paris, and thought he probably wasn’t seeing much. The taxi left them near
the massive, cobbled stone square before Notre Dame Cathedral on the Ile de la cite, one of the two small
islands in the river Seine that flowed all around these some of the oldest
streets in Paris.
They
walked slowly up the steps into the body of the cathedral. The bright
chandeliers hanging from their chains high overhead cast light down into the
great vaulted body and coloured light spilled down on to the floor in pools
from the stained glass windows and between the massive stone carved pillars. An
organ was playing softly but deeply, the vibrato of the great pipes moved
Luath’s core rather than his ears, a physical sensation of sound, and it was
the only sound. In this place where the exact same ancient words had been said
day after day, century after century. The walls were soaked with a thousand
years of human prayer and faith. People’s thoughts and beliefs and dearest
wishes and darkest secrets and greatest fears had been brought here to be
shared in this great and most beautiful hall, and while the hush was tangible –
there was only the soft sound of feet moving slowly on the stone as other
visitors around them walked in silence or spoke to each other in the lowest of
murmurs – there was an immense and saturating peace to that hush. It was
something Luath had felt out on the pastures on the ranch at times in the wide
green open space beneath the sky.
They
walked slowly in the vast spaces between the thick pillars, over the black and
white chequerboard tiles on the floor. Past the wrought iron tombs of the long
dead, where their likenesses lay in statue form above their bones. The gilded
frescos on the walls touched with gold, faded but still brilliantly beautiful.
The painted friezes along the choir, still bright blues and golds and reds
despite the passing of the centuries. The stone steps and the floor itself was
softly grooved, worn away by hundreds of thousands of feet passing over them,
man, woman and child.
They
walked slowly in the vast spaces between the thick pillars, over the black and
white chequerboard tiles on the floor. Past the wrought iron tombs of the long
dead, where their likenesses lay in statue form above their bones. The gilded
frescos on the walls touched with gold, faded but still brilliantly beautiful.
The painted friezes along the choir, still bright blues and golds and reds
despite the passing of the centuries. The stone steps and the floor itself was
softly grooved, worn away by hundreds of thousands of feet passing over them,
man, woman and child.
At
the far side of the choir, near one of the small private chapels, a large bank
of little candles burned on a rack of shelves. Some almost burned away, some
newly lit, with many spaces in between them. Luath felt in his pocket for some
francs and dropped them into the wooden collection box slot, picking up one of
the unused candles from the box beside it. David had come from Europe, had
grown up in villages around small local churches and the great cathedrals in
the city that were peers of this ones, he had lived on the same streets as a
child where people had lived before recorded time and memory, and once or twice
he’d spoken of places like this to Luath.
The record he had given Philip decades ago of carols sung by an English
choir, the one Philip had played every Christmas and which they still as a
family played on Christmas Eve, came from a cathedral David knew the name of
and were the sounds of his childhood. It was him that Luath was thinking of as
he tipped the fresh candle to light the wick, the flame spreading from one lit
candle that was someone else’s memory and prayer to join his own. Luath stood
it in the rack and beside him heard the soft chink of Darcy dropping coins into
the box, and a moment later a new candle was softly touched to his lit one,
spreading the flame one candle further.
“Philip.”
Darcy said very quietly as if he’d asked. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him
the last couple of days.”
Luath
gave him a small smile, looking at the pair of candles side by side.
“I
was thinking of David when I lit that one.”
Hands
deep in his pockets, Darcy stood beside him and watched the twin flames, his
head level with Luath’s shoulder, his carved face lifted so the candle light
spilled across his eyes and turned them luminous. Half an eye on him Luath saw
his eyes go from reflecting the candle light to blurring and felt the shiver
that went through him, and put an arm around his shoulders. Darcy ducked his
head, the first real sob bursting out before he could stifle it, a sharp sound
in the hush. It attracted a few sympathetic glances from people around them but
no curiosity. This was a place where it was not unexpected. Luath guided Darcy
with him to one of the empty side chapels and the low wooden pews, and sat down
beside him, keeping the arm around him while Darcy buried his face in his hands
and for a few moments fought with the tears escaping him. Luath rubbed his
shoulders quietly, eyes on the carved statue above the little altar ahead of
them and the fresh flowers arranged there. Eventually Darcy took a shuddering
but quieter breath.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s been a really bad few days.”
“Has it?” Luath said quietly. Darcy let go a shaky snort.
“You
know it has. Why else are you here?”
“I
knew you were here, likely finished with everything and I thought it would be a
nice way to spend a day with you. And yes, I know some sort of argument has
been happening via text, Ash mentioned it, but not the details.”
“Gerry
lost it.”
“Did
he?”
“Yes.”
Darcy took another, slower breath. He sounded tired and numb. “Just typical
Gerry stuff, I know. He was stressed and he lost it and said a lot of stuff he
didn’t mean, and then everyone else piled in and starting tearing strips off
him so he escalated it and said a whole lot more.”
“I
think everyone has been banned from the phones, so it should settle down now.”
“It
got pretty vicious.”
“I'm
sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
“............no.”
“Want
to talk about it?”
“It
got into some.... pretty sharp stuff.” Darcy hesitated, humiliated and ashamed
to say it, but there was no one more likely to understand or that he’d ever
confide this to. “I’m not innocent, I fought back too, but- there were things
said about you. That I play with the whole lifestyle thing with you, that I
haven’t got the guts to do it for real. That I play both sides for whatever
benefits I can get and avoid whatever parts of it might be real.”
Ouch.
There was a moment while they sat in silence and Luath reflected on several
things he would have liked to have said to Gerry, but his focus was on the man
beside him and he kept his voice easy.
“Do
you believe it?”
“I
don’t know.” Darcy said softly. “It was Gerry. Who knows me better than he
does?”
“I
do.” Luath said positively. “Like you say, it was Gerry. In high drama and saying
whatever first comes out of his mouth. You said yourself you knew he didn’t
mean it.”
“I
meant I know he didn’t actually plan to hurt me and he’ll be sorry he did. That
doesn’t mean it’s completely without truth. He’s got a reason for thinking it.”
“Only
you can decide whether he's right or not. When you cut all the crap from it,
the bottom line is it’s something you and Gerry and the others have talked
about for years. You choose not to define yourself by the categories they do
and whether or not they believe you or think you’re making the right choice
it’s not something anyone can possibly have any say over other than you. It’s
not that simplistic. If that bugs them that’s about them and their problem, not
you.”
Darcy
didn’t answer, looking down at the stone floor under their feet.
“I’ll
tell you too,” Luath said quietly, “I spend more time with you than any of
them, I see more of you, and I’ve never
felt manipulated or played with by you. I’m not stupid, Darce. As I’m the one
that ought to know or has any right to mind, I don’t think Gerry has anything
to say about it on my behalf.”
“I tease you all the time.”
“I’m your friend. I get the jokes. There has never been a time I
haven’t.”
There was another long silence, then Darcy said heavily,
“I’m not going to go for Christmas this year. I’ll be abroad-”
Luath interrupted him before he even got the next
sentence out of his mouth. “No, Darcy, you know as well as I do that is not an
option.”
“It is an option, it’s my decision.”
“You have more of a responsibility to the family
than your desire to not speak to one brat who is behaving badly. To refuse to
visit with everyone else you love and who love you is something that Philip
wouldn't have accepted, and anyone else that is a part of this family won't
accept it either. When there are problems, they get talked about and dealt
with, they don't get shovelled under the rug and left to fester. You are not an optional extra or an outsider in this family, the
responsibilities apply to you just the same as they do to everyone else.”
Darcy blinked at the floor, embarrassed, but at the
same time he knew he had needed to hear that, to have someone say it to him,
and Luath never had the faintest problem saying this kind of thing as directly
as necessary.
“If there was something you did or said that you're
ashamed of, then that's something you need to figure out how to fix,” Luath
added, “But never mind Gerry, you're not running away from what you owe to
everyone at home, I wouldn’t let any one of us do that. Relationships take
work, that’s the duty you have when you’re part of a family and this needs to
be dealt with so it can be forgotten properly. I know it's not easy, but then
Philip never shied from easy when it was the right thing to do.”
“I know. I still don’t want to.”
“I know you don't, and that's okay too. I did hear
from Ash that the others involved with these texts are gathering today at the
ranch to talk it through.”
Darcy looked up, shocked. There was no question it
would be by choice; he knew it without needing to ask. It would be forced
attendance; Ash and James and Theo would have made the decision that the
bickering stopped here and got sorted out and Gerry, Bear and Niall – and Wade
too – would do as they were told. There was no little guilt at knowing he was
the only one who didn’t have to do
the right thing, willing or not.
“It’s wholly your decision.” Luath sat back in the
pew next to him, his voice very gentle. “But you have the right to know that
and make your own decision on the right thing to do. And I want you to know too
that if you want to be there then I’m very happy to come too and be there with
you.”
*
6th December, 11.30am.
Falls Chance Ranch, Wyoming
Gerry arrived first with Ash, bursting up the porch
steps, hurling himself into Paul’s arms and burying himself there. He might not
have travelled entirely willingly but for Gerry there was always something
powerfully comforting about coming home. Paul, hugging him back and listening
with one ear to a passionate diatribe about airports and the weather and life
in general which told him a lot more about how Gerry was feeling than about air
travel, appreciated not for the first time that Ash, always laid back and as
very much in love with Gerry now as he had been when Philip first began to
invite him to stay at the ranch, made himself as much at home here with them as
Gerry did. Ash, catching his eye as he hung up his own and Gerry’s coats in the
hall out of the way of the much more battered and mud splashed work jackets in
the kitchen, gave him an easy smile that said he got this and it wasn’t
difficult at all.
Once the most essential stock work had been done
this morning Flynn had sent Dale and Riley out on a fencing job miles away, a
long ride and a job likely to keep them away until late afternoon, but he
himself was working in the yard, efficiently and without apparently paying much
attention to what else was going on. To Paul’s eye he’d silently set up at
least three projects people could easily slot in with alongside him that kept
hands busy. Ash hustled Gerry gently through unpacking and changing into the
yard clothes they kept in the drawers in Gerry’s room, then took him outside
where they took up one of Flynn’s projects of weather proofing the new shed
together, Gerry protesting most of the way but quietly enough that Paul
surmised he felt as though he deserved it.
James, Wade and Niall arrived an hour later with
Jasper who’d taken one of the four by fours to meet them at the airport. James,
tall, silver haired and still very upright in every way, still had his licence
but he rarely drove long distances now and the partially snow covered roads
were not the best conditions, particularly for men in their eighties who had
spent most of their day – and in Niall and James’ case most of the night too –
in the air. Jasper took their cases upstairs and James kissed Paul, ushering
Wade and Niall into the kitchen ahead of him.
“Hello Paul, good morning. Do I have an hour for us
all to get clean and rest? We’re all exhausted, some more than others.”
They all looked ready to drop, particularly Niall
who looked translucent along the still fine cheekbones under red hair that had
long since softened to a silvery strawberry blond. James had an arm around his
waist which was steadying him as much as guiding him as he stooped to give Paul
a rather fragile hug. Wade waited his turn, giving Paul a slightly sheepish
smile.
“Hey. It’s us. We saw Gerry outside.”
“We’re resting before we do any form of chatting.”
James said indisputably. “Move.”
“He’s been like this all day.” Wade said to
Paul. Paul took Wade’s arm, walking with
them through the family room.
“Go straight up, your rooms are all set. You’ve got
all afternoon, Bear and Theo won’t be in until four at the earliest. I’ll bring
you some lunch upstairs.”
“Bless you.” James put a firm hand on Wade’s
shoulder, signalling him and Niall. “Both of you upstairs, shower, get into
bed. I’ll be up in a minute. Wade, not a word.”
“I.”
Wade said rolling his eyes, “M. –“
James
interrupted the spelling with an immediate and very well placed swat sharp
enough to ring on the seat of Wade’s pants. Wade scowled but it stopped the
attitude dead and Wade headed hurriedly upstairs after Niall.
“To
be fair,” James said once they were out of sight, “That's the first since I
hauled him out of Texas. He’s mostly ashamed of himself. How is Gerry?”
His
concern was evident; James knew Gerry well.
“He’s
a bit fraught,” Paul said as lightly as he could. “Ash has him outside and
working. I think he's more than a little ashamed as well.”
“What
a ridiculous idea texts are.” James said exasperatedly. “This never happened
via letter. Or it happened much slower. I need sleep, we were on a plane to
Texas all through the night.”
Paul
took soup, bread and butter and tea upstairs to them, by which time Wade was in
bed in the currently empty client room and James and Niall were settling into
the other spare room between Jasper’s and Philip and David’s room. When he
quietly came up to check an hour later, all three were soundly asleep, James
spooned around Niall in a physical barrier against the weight of the covers and
probably against a lot of other things too.
Theo
and Bear arrived at half past four, just as Riley and Dale were unsaddling
their horses in the yard in the last of the rapidly fading daylight, in urgent
need of the mugs of hot chocolate Paul took out to them as he often did when
they were doing yard work in the cold. Flynn was still working on the roof repairs
he was doing to the tool shed and Ash was still keeping Gerry at work on the
weather proofing of the new shed too far away for Bear to speak to as he got
out of the hired car they parked out of the way by the garage. They brought
their cases to the kitchen, Bear looking blank which was an expression Paul
recognised well as Bear fully aware he was behaving badly and not planning to
stop doing so any time soon. Theo returned Paul’s hug as if this was a
perfectly normal visit, taking the cases from Bear.
“How
is everyone doing?”
“James,
Niall and Wade are resting, it was a long journey for them. Gerry and Ash are
outside, I’m planning dinner in about an hour. What do you two need?”
“We’re
fine.” Theo said easily. “I’ll put the kettle on if I may, could use a cup of
tea, and Bear could use some exercise.”
More
for his attitude than out of a need to move around if Paul was any judge.
“Flynn’s
outside with a whole lot of work needing doing if you’ve got a spare pair of
hands.” He suggested, and Theo nodded.
“Thank
you, I'll be right back. Bear?” Theo took Bear’s arm and walked him over to
where Flynn was, returning his one armed, brief hug with stained hands held
clear of Theo’s clean clothes. “Hi, good to see you. Here's another pair of
hands for you.”
Both
he and Flynn ignored Bear’s reproachful look.
Paul
had always loved the house being crowded. The challenge of cooking for twelve
when three were gentlemen of delicate digestion was something he enjoyed, and
the chaos of twelve people cleaning up, helping with and preparing for dinner
was noisy and involved choreographed use of the bathrooms, which gave enough
cover for four members of their party who weren’t inclined to do much talking
around each other, to stay quiet without seeming rude. Flynn, Jasper, Ash,
James and Theo made cheerful conversation with each other that gave them plenty
of shelter and prevented the atmosphere from nose diving. Riley was responding
to this without hesitation, unmoved by what to him was a familiar and perfectly
normal situation in this house and had been for years, and Riley never with
much patience for anyone locked in the throes of a good strop. Dale was
watching with his quiet, absorbed expression that meant he was taking every
detail of this in and missing nothing, although Paul saw he had no trouble
joining in the conversation with Ash of whom he was fond, and in giving his
attention to James and Niall’s comfort with a discreet thoughtfulness Paul
appreciated. James, who was, on the quiet, a sucker for a good looking young
man with good manners, certainly responded to it; Paul wasn’t sure if Dale was
aware of it but to his eye Dale was successfully distracting James into
unbending and relaxing a little and Niall certainly both noticed and
appreciated it.
It
took Jasper and Bear pulling out several of the table’s many leaves to
accommodate everyone around the table and for a few minutes there was the
concentration needed to pass dishes around and fill plates. Flynn had seated
himself very definitely next to Riley and directly opposite to Dale, and Paul
took the seat next to Dale once all the dishes were on the table, quietly
taking his plate from him and choosing for him, giving him a lightly filled
plate of things he liked and which were easy to eat and which under the stress
of a large, busy family crowd he was more likely to be able to finish. Taking
charge of those most basic domestic decisions for him, particularly the ones
about the most essential things like dressing and eating, went very deep for
Dale and most of all it said to him loud and clear in a busy situation, I’ve still got you.
“How are things in Texas?” Riley asked Wade, helping
him to one of the steaming jacket potatoes. Wade cast James a pointed look down
the table.
“Full of large guys breaking into apartments and
kidnapping people before breakfast.”
“Everyone?” Flynn said immediately, loudly enough to
grab attention. There was a gradual falling of quiet while everyone looked to
him. Flynn’s voice was pleasant but his tone was unmistakeable.
“We are going to have a good and civil meal together tonight. Anyone that doesn't want to
may find a corner now so the rest of us can enjoy it. Anyone?”
His added subtext of drag Riley and Dale into this and you’ll be sorry, went unsaid but
Paul didn’t think any of the older members of the family around the table
missed it. Philip’s rule of being pleasant to be around or making it up to
people had been strong in this house for years, they all knew it and it had
directly affected a few of them, including Flynn himself more than once. Flynn
waited, looking around the table, then nodded.
“Good. Wade, how was Texas before today?
There was a bit of an abashed silence from Wade and
rather guilty look from Bear, then the conversation began again considerably
more freely. When they were done there were plenty of hands to clear the table
and wash the dishes, after which Ash pulled out Gerry’s chair at the table,
James pointed Wade and Niall back towards their chairs and Flynn put a hand on
Riley’s shoulder, steering him towards the door and beckoning Dale.
“You two, find yourselves something to do in the study.”
Riley pulled a couple of the oldest games out of the
shelves in the family room and followed Dale into the study, standing in the
open doorway to listen for a moment. There was the click in the distance of the
outside kitchen door onto the porch closing as Jasper went out into the yard to
lock up for the night, the scrape of kitchen chairs as everyone sat down – and
then silence. And more silence. After a few minutes Riley shook his head.
“He wants us out of the way so everyone can sit and
stare at each other in silence?”
Actually he wanted them out of the way because Flynn
was always tougher on both of them whenever the house was full like this. There
was a protectiveness in it that Dale understood, partly because it made it
clear they were still his first priority, but also more simply because that was
how Flynn was. If he had them corralled in a way he felt ok with then his
attention, which belonged to them first and foremost, was available to be
focused on other things. Like supporting the other Tops to unravel this
situation in the kitchen. It was difficult to mind about the unreasonability of
a man who loved you like that. From his experience of how this family usually
handled things Dale had expected a little more than a silent gathering around
the table, but it was clear Riley wasn’t surprised.
“What are they going to do?”
Riley grimaced. “It's up to the people that started
this to talk about it. They just don't sound keen right now.”
That was obviously a known, familiar strategy. Dale
considered it.
“Does it work?”
“Yes, I’ve seen it work plenty of times.” Riley
listened for a moment more, looking more irritated than concerned.
“So what will Flynn do?”
“Not Flynn. I haven’t seen this happen in years, it
was Philip always used to handle this kind of stuff when there were fights
here. He never said much, he wouldn’t do it for them, he just used to go get
the paddle and put it down on the table to get the discussion started for those
that weren't wanting to talk right away, and expected us to get on with it. It
always worked because you knew he meant it and things were going to be worked
out whether you were sitting comfortably or not. Stopped anyone bothering with
any kind of bullshit.”
Dale reflected on both that it certainly would
motivate him, and what a useful strategy that could be in many board meetings.
“How long did it usually take?”
Riley shook his head, coming to join him in setting
out the board game pieces and sprawling full length on his side on the
hearthrug with his long legs outstretched. “Not long. He wouldn't wait five
minutes before someone would get popped if no one spoke. If it took all night
for everyone to work it out then they sat there until they were done, but
sitting in silence wasn't an option. Not trying wasn’t an option.”
With that in mind, Dale was surprised that Flynn,
who equally believed in exactly this kind of means of dealing efficiently with
obstreperation and in Dale’s experience had not the slightest hesitation nor
difficulty in doing it, was not doing exactly the same.
In the
kitchen the long, heavy silence went on for some time. Finally James cleared
his throat slowly and pointedly. “You know we are all going to sit here for as
long as it takes.”
No one
around the table moved. James had seen the expressions on their faces plenty of
times before sat in this house together for over half a century; it was like
taking the shields down. Men very well aware they were in trouble and none of
them happy, but all of them keeping their seats and their eyes down, avoiding
each other.
“I'm
sorry for ever getting on the phone.” Gerry half muttered eventually, not
looking at anyone.
Ash
reached a hand out to cover Gerry’s and Gerry pulled away, glaring at him.
“Why
isn't Darcy here? He’s as involved as any of us, why does he get a free pass?”
“I’d
point out,” James said, “That none of us know where Darcy is, we’re all worried
about it, and the first reason he isn’t here is that he’s so upset by the
fussing between you all that he’s disappeared off the map.”
Stung,
Gerry flushed and his mouth shut. Beside Bear and sat sideways on to the table
with one elbow propped on it, Theo glanced around to the others.
“I think
I’d like to start with exactly what happened and what was said.”
“Here,
here.” James agreed.
“Then get
a warrant for the phone.” Wade said sourly. “Oh wait, you don't need one.”
Niall
shut his eyes and put his fingertips against them as if he had a headache.
Beside him James made to get up and Wade swiftly held up his hands, genuine
apology in his voice.
“Okay,
okay, I didn't mean it like that, I am trying to help. Doesn't anyone have the
texts on a phone because I don't remember all that was said.”
Theo
looked across at Ash, then James. “I think we’ve all seen bits of them, we know
there were emails involved too, but none of us have the whole picture.”
“Start at the beginning.” James suggested quietly. “What started it?”
“Gerry
being an ass.” Bear said bluntly. He had his elbows planted on the table, his
big hands palm down on the wood surface as if this was some kind of séance,
looming half a head above everyone else.
“Not helpful.” Theo told him firmly.
“What did
start it?” Ash said patiently to Gerry, who was focusing a death stare on Bear.
“What was happening?”
Gerry
took a heavy breath, fiddling with a line of wood in the grain on the table.
His voice was wavery but still making an attempt at lightly flippant that wasn’t
really working, and Paul’s heart went out to him. “I… was talking about the
gallery, the show I was doing.”
“While you were waiting for it to start.” Niall added without opening his eyes.
Ash
nodded comprehension, still watching Gerry. “How did that turn into a fight
Ger?”
Gerry
shrugged his shoulders a little, eyes on the table. “I don’t know, I couldn’t
say.”
“You were
being an ass.” Bear repeated pointedly in his bass tones. Wade rolled his eyes,
slumping back in his chair.
“Yeah got
it, ok, we get the picture, let’s have a coherent conversation like grownups
for Pete’s sake before some of us lose the will to live.”
Gerry
made an abrupt move to get up which Ash gently thwarted. “Excuse me, I need to
use the bathroom.”
“Yes,”
Wade said sharply, “And while Bear starts talking like a pre-schooler with a
sucker jammed in his mouth you’ll go hide in the bathroom. We all know the
tricks, Ger, don’t bother. Isn’t this how we got into this mess in the first
place?”
“Enough.
Last warning.” Theo said categorically to Bear at the same time as James gave
Wade a sharp look and told him, “Don’t intimate that Bear is a pre-schooler.”
“I
didn’t,” Wade said irritably, “I intimated that he talks like one to get out of
conversations he doesn’t want to have. Just the same way Gerry starts spouting
vitriol, I get mouthy and Niall tries to melt into the floor. And sooner or
later one of us is going to have to get a fricking clue and get it together.”
That was
difficult to argue with.
“What
started Darcy as the target?” Ash said gently to Gerry. “Why did he deserve
this? There must have been a reason, you wouldn’t get upset without one. No,
shrugging isn’t an answer.”
“I don’t
know.”
“Yes,”
Ash said just as persistently, “You do.”
Wade let
out an exasperated hiss between his teeth, and James beside him put a
restraining hand on his knee. On James’
other side, Niall spoke softly through his hands. “You were stressed about the
show and hyper on coffee. Darcy suggested you calm down and let Ash know you were
struggling. Gerry didn’t want to hear that – I think he felt guilty about it.
Darcy gave up and said you needed to go get on with the show. That didn’t help
either. There was talk about if Darcy thought he could do it better to come do
it,”
“And then a totally unacceptable jibe that Darce basically sucks off anyone he’s working for,” Wade added bluntly with a glare at Gerry. “Darce bit back. A lot less than I would have done, but I didn’t blame him, and pretty much everyone else did too.”
“And then
Bear showed that text to you and you got involved, after which you went after
me like it was an all you can eat buffet.” Gerry snapped back. “So did Bear, it
was great.”
The shame
around the table was more or less tangible. Paul, sitting quietly on Gerry’s
other side, was watching Flynn’s face and knew he recognised it too. The huge
difficulties of processing shame was something they knew well from regular
experience with Dale when he couldn’t rationalise emotions, and looking around
the table Paul could see in all four faces that this was where they were stuck.
Without the words for it, without a means to express it, process it,
rationalise it, all that was left was to avoid and react to the ongoing threat
of it.
And they
had four very different brats here. Gerry and Niall both responded in their own
different ways to patience and quiet encouragement, an approach that drove Wade
to screaming point, where he and Bear responded considerably better to clear
lines drawn, less talking and a much shorter manner, and needed it to prevent
them escalating this beyond being manageable. It made a group conversation very
difficult when trying to gather information from four brats all in a state of
being highly unwilling to talk at all, all of whom were being still more
annoyed by each other’s behaviour, and not for the first time Paul missed
Philip badly as someone who had been able to deal with situations like this
without apparent effort. They’d all seen him do it so many times and he’d
always made it look so easy. Almost, Paul willed Flynn to speak, to step in and
point this out because across the table he could see Flynn’s brows drawn
together, the line of his jaw that meant in the privacy of his head he was
thinking what Paul was thinking. Almost Paul considered speaking out himself –
but Flynn was the better qualified and he was staying quiet, listening and not
participating, and there was reason for that. They were the youngest and the
least experienced of the Tops around the table, they were the youngest members
of the family in this group and it was not a matter that even directly involved
them. They were here to offer support, not to take over or lead, it was
something the partners of the men involved were best qualified to manage.
Jasper came into the study through the porch door once he’d locked up
and joined Dale and Riley on the rug to participate in the game, which
precluded Riley managing any more listening at the door. It was over an hour
before Flynn opened the door, two mugs in his hand, and jerked his head at
Riley and Dale.
“Put that away, get ready for bed.”
“This early?” Riley demanded.
“You heard me.” Flynn sounded short and in no mood to argue. Jasper sat
up and began to put away the game pieces. Dale, reading between the lines,
helped him with an eye on Flynn’s body language.
“It’s not going well.”
Riley, who was looking ready to snap right back at Flynn, growled as
Flynn handed him a mug and put an arm around his waist, picking him up in a
bone cracking hug.
“Neither of you need to be around this bull. Take a book, read, I’ll let
you know when it’s time to put the light out.”
“Yeah I bet you will.” Riley said half under his breath and Flynn swatted him before he kissed him and put him down.
“Bed. Move.”
His wanting them even further away from whatever was going on in the
kitchen was telling. Riley went towards the stairs, growling, and Dale took the
second mug which held hot milk and paused to kiss Flynn, briefly but with an
eye on the darkness of Flynn’s eyes and a hand that ran over the tension in his
shoulders.
“What’s the barrier?”
“Mostly stubbornness.” Flynn said shortly. “Nothing you need worry
about.”
It was rather novel – not to say refreshing – for a meeting to be going
on that was not going well and which was not in any way his responsibility.
That part of it was quite nice… but Dale, not at all blind to Flynn’s feelings
right now, would have actually preferred to take an active role and to join in
with solving whatever it was that needed solving. It was not a comfortable
feeling at all that things were wrong and apparently not improving.
“Has anyone heard from Darcy?”
“No, nor Luath. Luath isn’t answering his phone.” Flynn looked over to
find Riley and include him, his voice rough but reassuring to both of them.
“Which is a good sign, because if Luthe didn’t know where Darcy was or wasn’t
sure he was ok then he’d be here interrogating us for information and looking
for help. You don’t need to worry.”
That was logical. Luath was more familiar than any of them with where
Darcy was day to day and what he was doing, they were close friends and their
lives were pretty enmeshed from Dale’s experience of those few days in Luath’s
apartment in New York. Jasper laid the game on Philip’s desk and as he followed
Riley upstairs, Dale was aware that Jasper came to stand beside Flynn to watch
them go, his shoulder blocked against Flynn’s. It was something Dale only ever
saw them do with each other and often he wondered if they were consciously
aware that they did it.
It was about nine thirty pm when Dale heard the sounds of other people
coming upstairs and the moving around between rooms and bathrooms. Whether
things were resolved or not, clearly the brat members of the kitchen meeting
had been sent to bed. In the bleakest winter months where often the weather
made it necessary to go out during the night to de-ice water supplies for the
stock in the home pasture, they kept earlier hours anyway and Flynn came up
just before ten. It was rather a mild night for the time of year, they’d seen
several snow falls and snow was still lying in patches here and there in
sheltered places on the edge of the woods but it was still early enough in
December that it was coming and going and thawing. The river was running freely
and the water troughs weren’t freezing up beyond a little shallow surface ice
the stock could break through easily. In a few weeks they would likely get the
falls heavy enough and deep enough that it would be on the ground for weeks and
months rather than days, but there would be no need to get up tonight.
Dale laid his book down, watching Flynn undress without any sense that
things had gone better downstairs. Asking questions would be neither tactful
nor helpful. Instead Dale slid over to make space for Flynn – why he found he
preferred to lie on Flynn’s side when in bed alone was something he hadn’t yet
really considered in detail – and as Flynn snapped the light out, lay back and
put an arm out for him, Dale co-operated with the yank over and curled up
around him. It was always one of the best moments of every day. One of those
things he never stopped marvelling at. To lay in Flynn’s arms, safe in this
quiet house, to fall asleep with Flynn right there. The wellbeing of that for a
moment covered most things, but Flynn’s hard body was still quieter and tauter
than usual. Dale ran a hand slowly and gently up and down his bare chest, over
the tightness, and after a moment felt Flynn sigh and then relax a little
further.
“We didn’t get very far.”
A situation like this, a domestic quarrel, was a world away from the
meetings Dale had been used to managing for years. Some of those had been
bloody – a few literally. Many had been loud, difficult, aggressive. He’d had
long experience in getting a group of people to move in one direction together
towards one goal, or to come in line with the necessary agenda, and how to
steer different personalities and combinations of personalities effectively. It
was a text book skill, he could do it well. And it meant nothing at all in this
house where you were dealing with people you loved. And that was without taking
into account how you handled this kind of thing when all the combatants were
part of the lifestyle Dale was still in the process of learning about through
his own experience, and were men of the personalities he knew in the house.
‘Tightly wired’ was how Riley had put it.
There were a few other phrases Dale would have added that gave
additional information but still didn’t accurately define any of them.
Dale had no frame of reference for this. He and Riley had bickered very
occasionally but Riley, while he had no problem telling you loudly and clearly
if you did something he didn’t like, wasn’t able to stay angry for long and
willingly accepted an apology. And Flynn, Paul and Jasper, while they kept
definite limits around what was allowable, tended to let them get on with it
and Dale had a sneaking suspicion they thought it was good for him. Paul in
particular tended to find the most peculiar things good for him. It was not at
all difficult to imagine how they as a group would deal with arguments between
themselves. But his imagination didn’t stretch well to imagine how this might
work for Bear, for Gerry, for the others. He’d very occasionally seen Gerry in
trouble, but only minor things and he and Ash tended to handle them very
discreetly. He’d seen Bear taken aside by Theo once at Thanksgiving but again
they’d simply disappeared together and not returned for a while.
“Do you know why?”
“In part because Darcy’s not here.” Flynn settled his shoulders deeper
into the pillows, his free arm behind his head and his eyes on the open window.
“Hard for Gerry to feel any better without talking to Darcy, which makes it
hard for Bear and Wade to quit being frustrated with him.”
That was a sympathetic point of view. Dale considered it, not sure why
he wasn’t entirely satisfied.
“What do you want to do about it?”
He was aware of Flynn’s very brief smile, followed by a strong hug.
“What would you do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Dale admitted. “I can do the professional stuff, but
this isn’t the same. What happened between them?”
“Mostly a whole lot of rubbish. Nothing that matters.” Flynn sounded
tired and brusque. “This could be over in ten minutes, it doesn’t need to be a
big deal at all.”
Except brats – and Dale freely counted himself in under that heading –
had a skill for making things a whole lot more complicated and difficult if
they were allowed to.
“Riley told me how Philip used to handle this kind of thing.”
Flynn snorted softly, running his fingers slowly up and down Dale’s spine, and he looked down to meet Dale’s eyes. The dark green was intensely gentle, as was his voice, the look and the tone that went deep in to Dale’s guts every time. “Yes. But that was Philip. Every one of us lived with Philip first, he had that relationship with all of us. It’ll work out, probably when everyone’s less tired and jetlagged tomorrow. James has been part of this house for sixty years, Ash and Theo know what they’re doing, they’ve all known each other a long time. This is not your problem to solve, kid. Let it go.”
He was thinking of Philip himself tonight. And missing him. Dale found
himself frowning, still not sure what he wasn’t comfortable with but something
about what Flynn was saying wasn’t sitting right.
In their room down the hall, Niall watched James wind the now very
elderly watch he wound every night before they slept, then put out the light
and lay down beside him. The moonlight in from the window was always brighter
here than at home; by it Niall could see James’ profile, the straight nose and
carved line of his brow with shadows cast down onto his face.
“He’s deferring to you.”
“I’m not the one who keeps this place going, spends hours out through
the night in all weathers breaking ice off water, weeks mowing all day and half
the night.” James sounded fierce and Niall understood who it was fiercely
protective of. There wasn’t anyone in
the large extended network of men who loved this house that didn’t hold the
same thankfulness and respect for the ones who did stay here and for whom the
ranch was their everyday work and reality, maintained the same way everyone
else loved it. James put a hand out to find Niall’s.
“It’s like that damned room, preserved like a museum. I’m not giving
way, Niall. I’m not going to be here forever.”
*
Date: 6th
December 7.53pm
From: Lito
To: Riley
Subject: What is going on over there????
I’m drowning in emails Gerry and Bear are copying
me into, everyone’s screaming at each other and I don’t understand a word of
it. Do we have to come over there and sort you lot out?
Date: 6th
December 8.25pm
From: Riley
To: Lito
Subject: Re: What is going on over there????
Too complicated, don’t worry about it. Much
fuckwittery.
Date: 6th
December 8.32pm
From: Lito
To: Riley
Subject: Re: Re: What is going on over there????
So explain the fuckwittery, some of us are
desperate for a clue?
Date: 6th
December 8.41pm
From: Riley
To: Lito
Subject: Re: Re: Re: What is going on over there????
Ok, brief overview:
Everyone:
Oh dear God, Gerry’s lost his rag. <again>
Omg lost it I tell you. Gone. Waaaah.
That’s it, I’m going to send mardy texts, sulk,
call Gerry/Darcy names, never come online again
I’m cancelling Christmas
You did not just say that oh yes I did oh no I
didn’t oh yes I did
Niall:
Guys, calm down.
Everyone:
Go and boil your head, I’m going to eat donuts, call Gerry more
names, Call Bear names for variety, slam the door a bit involve anyone in the family not yet involved,
as this mess clearly needs making bigger
This is stupid and infantile (and yet I’m still
checking and replying to texts every ten seconds)
David would have dumped you all in the horse
trough wouldn’t do this
<random bickering and flapping>
Ash: Seriously. Everyone get your butts to the
ranch and calm the heck down.
Date: 6th
December 9.18pm
From: Lito
To: Riley
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: What is going on over there????
………………..Wow.
7th
December
Wyoming
Flynn was lying awake too at five thirty when Dale heard Paul head
downstairs, and while he made Dale stay with him in bed until six, they got up
as soon as the clock reached the hour. Jasper had already gone out; his boots
and jacket were missing when Dale, dressed and shaved, came down to the
kitchen. Paul was sitting at the head of the table as he did in the early
morning, drinking a cup of tea and writing a list with the other. He held out
an arm at the sight of Dale, pulling him down into his lap.
“Good morning. Did you two sleep?”
“Not that well.”
“No, me either.” Paul passed Dale the mug of tea and they shared it,
sipping slowly while Paul’s hand found its way under Dale’s sweater and shirt
and rubbed slowly over his lower back. “What are you thinking about all this?”
He expected an honest answer, this was the time of the day that Paul
tended to ask the more difficult questions in these few minutes they had alone
together, but Dale didn’t have anything more to offer than a rather vague,
“……I’m not sure yet.”
“You haven’t reached a definite conclusion, the data’s still percolating, you don’t want to talk about it or you don’t think I want to hear it?” Paul looked at him, dark blue eyes glinting with humour in the soft way they had that always made Dale want to get closer to him. He did so on impulse right now, folding his arms around Paul’s neck. Something that was also easy when alone with Paul at this hour, and Paul hugged him back tightly.
“It is ok that this isn’t finished yet, this is not your problem to solve. It’s just a storm in a tea cup. Look at me.”
Dale returned the eye contact fully, as Paul expected, and Paul put a hand up to brush his hair back from his forehead.
“Which is it? Answer the question.”
“The data’s still circulating.” Dale admitted. Paul gave him a searching look, but nodded slowly.
“Ok. Are you coping with this many people around?”
Dale leaned on the table, honestly keeping the eye contact. “Yes, fine.
This is a bit different to anything I’ve seen before but I’m all right.”
“It is going to be ok.” Paul finished the last of the tea and leaned over to put the mug in the sink. “If I end up having to bang heads together, we’re not going to waste another day on this.”
Flynn came into the kitchen, headed for the fridge and pulled out a carton of juice, flipping the top and standing where he was to drain it. Paul shook his head at him.
“Hey, this is a kitchen, not a refuelling station. Get a glass.”
“No need, it’s almost empty.” Flynn finished the carton and crushed it, dropping it in the trash. “I heard the others getting up. I don’t know what their plans are yet, but if Bear and Gerry were mine I’d be putting them to work on something heavy and as mucky as possible this morning.”
“They are yours in plenty of ways. Suggest it.” Paul told him. Flynn pulled his boots on at the door, reaching down a jacket.
“It’s not my place to tell Theo or Ash what to do.”
“They came here.” Dale said without thinking. Paul glanced at him and
nodded clear agreement, keeping Dale where he was on his lap.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too. They came here because
we all know how we handle this kind of thing. We were going around in circles
last night, we weren’t getting anything but a lot of low level attitude and
grouching from most, and misery from Niall which is driving James mad.”
“It’s a mistake engaging with the who and why.” Flynn said shortly. Paul
nodded with bleak agreement.
“Yes, exactly, and you know
why it doesn’t work. Flynn…. James is brilliant with Niall and Wade, but he’s
focused on them and at their age the stress isn’t good for them. I can see it’s
worrying him. Ash is a genius with Gerry in a state but he’s having to try and
keep Gerry together enough to sit with Bear and Wade when they’re this mad, Gerry
doesn’t do well with anyone being mad or with this kind of confrontation, and
Ash isn’t the right person to handle Wade or Bear. Theo’s keeping Bear actually
talking and not driving anyone else nuts but he’s good at Bear. Neither of them
are going to feel ok standing up at this table and taking over. No one’s up to
handling the whole group as a group
and that’s what they want. I wish you would.”
“As far as James is concerned, I’m the brat of a kid with the bad
attitude who used to drive Philip spare.” Flynn said dryly. “Jasper and I were
just teenagers when Gerry was here.”
“Darling, you haven’t looked like a teenager in fifteen years, and
outside of a shopping mall you don’t act like one either.” Paul gave Flynn a
steady look, “Philip never thought of you as ‘just a kid’, and we certainly
don’t. I’ll try if I have to but you’d do it a lot better.”
“If I’m asked, of course I’ll help but I’m not shoving in where I’ve got no right to shove, we need to do this their way.”
“We don’t, because they came here to do it our way.” Paul said
pointedly. Flynn came over to them and stooped, dropping a rough kiss on Paul’s
lips that worked somewhere between an apology and a reply to Paul’s expression.
“I’ll be back for breakfast.”
Paul ‘suggested’ it; Dale heard him talk quietly to Ash who was the
first one downstairs, but by first light, around seven am, Gerry was bad
temperedly shifting the rock pile from the corner by the stables to a tarpaulin
near the vegetable patch, and Bear was mucking out the corral in amongst the
steaming breath of the horses while Riley and Dale worked with Jasper and Flynn
on the first chores of the day getting feed and fresh water out to the stock in
the home pasture. Dale took the tractor out to load up a stack of the hay bales
Riley pitched down from the hayloft hatch, and drove them out to stack in the
feeding stations for the sheep and cattle. He took the tractor back to the yard
when he was done and Gerry, having dropped a rock on the pile with a look that
said he despised all minerals, came to open the gate for him. He stood at the
door of the barn while Dale parked the tractor in its space, removed the keys
and dropped down to the barn floor, and helped Dale with closing and latching
the last double doors.
“I hate rocks.” He said, dropping the latch into place. “Just so you
know. And your boyfriend sucks.”
“Which one?”
Gerry gave him a Look. “Which one. Don’t you look all innocent with me,
you know which one. The New Zealand sadist, that’s who. Will you look at my
nails? Go and shift rocks he says. Put all that pile over here he says. I know this trick, I’ve watched him do it
to clients.”
“Gerald.” Ash’s voice said from the porch. Gerry pulled a face at Dale.
“He means the slave of the lamp needs to Get On With It.”
Ash gave Dale a calm smile as Dale came up the porch steps and went on sweeping the porch with an eye on Gerry. Paul was setting the table for breakfast as Dale went in to clean up. On winter mornings like this they started early and stopped for breakfast around nine thirty when the first morning chores were done, getting as much done as possible in the short hours of daylight. It meant coming back to breakfast in less than clean clothes, but Dale scrubbed his hands and came back into the kitchen where James was sitting with a cup of tea and Paul was filling two breakfast trays.
“Wade and Niall are staying in bed this morning,” he said as Dale came
to the table, “They’re tired from the flight yesterday. Can you take one up for
me hon? That one’s Niall’s.”
Yes. Two working hard in the yard, two kept in bed. It figured. Dale
took the tray upstairs and tapped at the door of the room Niall and James
shared. The curtains were drawn to show the pasture stretching out beyond the
window and the snow-capped mountains on the horizon. The bed was neatly made
with the patchwork green counterpane straight and drawn up around Niall who was
half sitting and half laying with a book and looked up as Dale came in with the
nearest thing Dale had seen to a smile since Niall got here.
“That’s kind of you, thanks.”
“How are you feeling?” Dale put the tray gently down on the empty side of the bed and Niall gratefully picked up the cup of tea, burying himself in it.
“Tired. And embarrassed. I dread to think what you and Riley must be
making of all this.”
Dale took a seat on the edge of the wooden framed bed and Niall drew up his knees, sipping tea. He was long and thin, Niall. Delicately built, with a straight nose, straight brows and soft dark brown eyes that gave him a faintly birdlike face. It was a gentle face; he moved gently, he spoke gently and with an expressive and rather deeper voice than you expected. Dale never had the slightest difficulty understanding how he held such force in a court room. It was the kind of voice you stopped to listen to, he’d seen men with this power of acting before in other powerful roles, men who didn’t need volume or force to make themselves felt. Although when he was here with James, Niall seemed to relax with bliss into the quiet of James’ shadow and to enjoy being the quieter of the two of them. Dale thought of him as usually being a very peaceful man.
“Flynn said it didn’t go too well last night.” Dale said lightly enough
for Niall to ignore it if he wanted to. Niall gave him a wry look over the edge
of his tea cup.
“Not too well? That was tactful.” He sighed and tipped his head back
against the pillow. “Around that table last night we had a
high court judge, the owner and manager of a successful business, someone
trained and trusted to wrangle large and very dangerous animals, and a highly
experienced and actually several times decorated cop. Does that sound like a
competent group to you? You’d think so. And we were sitting around a table
mumbling about who said what to whom like a bunch of first graders kept in at
recess.”
Dale smiled faintly, listening rather than
commenting. Niall drank the rest of the tea, cradling the china cup between his
hands.
“So embarrassed? Yes. And we’re in quite a bit of
trouble here, and deservedly so. I hate
when it gets to this point. I feel so stupid. Give me the worst court case you
can think of to handle, that’s no problem. I’ve got books, I’ve got precedents,
I know where to start, I’ve got no trouble handling that at all. Give me Gerry
shouting at me and all the professional experience I’ve ever had just dribbles
out of my ears.”
“He comes from a part of your life where it’s all
personal, not professional. You’re not a judge when you’re with him.” Dale
finished for him.
Niall gave him a rather sad smile. “Yes, exactly. I
know you’d get that.”
“It’s not like Riley and I don’t understand.” Dale said frankly. “It’s the same for us, I think it’s the same for all of us? Is there anything I can do that would help?”
“If I knew anything that would help I’d be doing it.
The stupid thing is we know how to fix this. We all do.” Niall looked without
much interest at the boiled eggs and toast on the tray. “Is Gerry all right? I
haven’t had a moment alone with him to know since we got here and he looked awful
last night.”
“He’s shifting rocks outside.”
Niall winced. “Possibly now I’m glad I got told to stay in bed. You’d better go love, you’ll be in trouble for fraternising with the condemned. Dale?” he added as Dale got up. “Has anyone heard anything at all from Darcy?”
“No. But Flynn hasn’t heard from Luath either and
Luath knows.”
The relief in Niall’s face was very evident.
Dale spent an hour around mid-morning with Jasper,
digging out the mail box on its post outside the gate on the road which had
begun to lean a little in the gathering winter gales, and to re dig the hole
and re site the post. Riley, who appeared to be fast losing patience with Bear,
Gerry and anyone else involved and was looking with increasing annoyance at
Gerry’s grousing as he heaved rocks, had disappeared to finish off the shed
roofing well away from both of them and was taking his feelings out on a lot of
hammering. Flynn hadn’t commented, but
once he’d finished his own chores, he’d gone to help. Re siting the post was a
heavy job with the ground cold and hard, and it took a fair amount of digging
and leverage to get the earth to release the post. Finally Jasper leaned his
full weight against it, rocking it from one side and then another until the mud
rather sullenly relinquished its grip. They took it in turns to dig out the
hole again, making it some inches deeper, and dropped the post back in, shoring
the earth up around it and spending some minutes tramping it down so the post
was stolidly set.
Wiping muddy, semi frozen hands on his knees, Dale
paused for a moment to get his breath and watched one solitary car in the
distance travel down the long road towards them. Jasper gathered up the pick
and the shovels they’d brought down with them and they reattached them to
Hammer and Gucci’s saddles, about to mount up when the car indicated and slowly
turned into the drive, passing under the wooden framed bar that read Falls
Chance Ranch. It slowed to a halt beside them and Dale felt his heart jump as
he recognised the man behind the wheel. Luath. Who turned off the engine and
got out, coming directly to him and Jasper with his face lighting up. Jasper
returned his hug warmly, going to meet his passenger, and Luath caught Dale,
his arms swallowing him up in a bear hug that nearly scooped his off his feet.
“Hey there! It’s good to see you! Are we too late?
Who’s here?”
“Pretty much everybody.” Dale returned the hug
warmly, very fond of this man and glad to see him, and the man Jasper was
helping out of the car, who hugged Jasper with rather more clinging than
warmth, was Darcy. Darcy looked across Jasper’s shoulder at him and managed
something approximating a smile. He was dressed more soberly than Dale had ever
seen. The jacket was nothing unusual, just plain black leather, plain black
boots and pants, a black scarf, for a moment, like a trick of the light, Dale
saw just the black outline and nothing inside it. The invisible man. Darcy
usually ensured you saw the clothes and mostly the clothes when you looked at
him.
“They started talking last night and didn’t get
anywhere. They were having another try this afternoon.” Jasper let go of Darcy,
keeping an arm over his shoulders. “Where did you two come from? We’ve been
wondering where you were together.”
“Paris.” Luath said easily. “It was beautiful, I recommend it.”
“Has it got very bad in there?” Darcy asked Jasper.
“I don’t hear much talking being done at all.”
Jasper sounded as calm about it as he always did. “A lot of noise.”
But no communication.
Dale, watching, saw Darcy understand what Jasper
meant at the same instance he did, and that was interesting. Many of the
friendships within this family were strong ones with a lot of history, and some
of them were quite unexpected.
“We heard about a good deal of gossip getting
recycled as ammunition.” Jasper leaned back against the car, watching Darcy’s
face with a good deal of gentleness. “I hope you weren’t hurt and you didn’t
take it seriously.”
Darcy looked across at Luath and nodded slowly.
“Nothing was said that really matters.”
“Or that’s anyone else’s business.” Luath added.
Jasper didn’t comment further but for the first time
Dale realised Jasper wasn’t merely being his usual, elusive self. He’d been
around since the others arrived, especially he’d been occupying himself with
Dale and Riley and joining in whatever they were doing, his friendly and usual
self, and Dale was so used to Jasper unobtrusively doing his own thing and just
appearing where he was needed if it freed Flynn and Paul up to do other things,
that he hadn’t thought twice about it. Jasper was being discreet with no wish
to make the situation harder for anyone, but he was not involving himself in
what was going on in the kitchen because he actively and seriously disapproved
of it. And of course he would. Bad feeling, idle chatter, time wasted in
continuing trouble and discord instead of resolving it; there were many things
that Flynn and Paul took seriously that Jasper didn’t, in some ways his
boundaries were considerably looser than in Dale’s experience, but these were
all transgressions which to Jasper were truly and inexcusably wrong. And
knowing that, Dale knew without question Jasper would not have allowed him or
Riley to do what the four in the kitchen were doing right now.
This
is wrong every way I try to look at it.
He and Jasper rode alongside the car up the long
drive to the ranch and Luath parked while they stripped the tack from their
horses, exchanged it for the blankets the corral horses wore at this time of
year and walked with them up the steps into the kitchen.
There were the sounds of ongoing altercations as
they opened the door; obviously the ‘discussion’ had been re convened. Dale
heard the tone more than the words. Tired. Fractious. Bitter. They were tones
he’d heard in plenty of meetings that had gone on too long without a firm
enough hand steering them, and there was never any gain or purpose to letting
them roll on. The sound stopped dead at the sight of Darcy. There was a long
silence, then Gerry jerked to his feet ahead of pretty much everyone else and
came straight to Darcy, throwing his arms around his neck.
“Thank God! Don’t
scare me like that. Where the hell have you been? I’ve been terrified.”
Darcy didn’t answer but it definitely seemed to help; Dale saw him swallow hard and he returned the hug. There was a very crowded moment where the kitchen was full of bodies, Darcy and Luath were surrounded by people, someone went to get their cases from the car, Paul put the kettle on and their coats were taken, chairs were found for them.
“Where were you?” Gerry demanded as soon as they sat
down.
“France. You knew I was in France.”
“You stopped answering any messages, we had no
idea-“
“For good reason Gerry, I was trying to work at the
time.” Darcy took a seat between Luath and Paul, sitting well back in his
chair. Dale edged past him to wash the mud off his hands. Riley, who had come
inside when Luath and Darcy arrived, moved out of his way with an expressive
look towards the table, muttering under his breath.
“Don’t bother sticking around, they’re still acting like a massed pain in the butt. If they were fricking horses I’d have the lot of them doing circuits on a leading rein, and I’d get a fricking crop out too. A big one.”
Riley was usually an acutely perceptive judge. Dale
took on board this summation which fitted with his own opinion and with what
Flynn had said this morning. It’s a
mistake engaging. From what Riley described Philip never had when handling
a quarrel. He wouldn’t do it for them, he wouldn’t lead it; for him it was not
about fact finding. He merely expected that they would do the right thing for
themselves.
At the table Luath gave Gerry a friendly smile. “I
read the texts, I asked to see them. I’ll thank you Gerry – and Bear and Wade –
to ask me any questions you have
about my private life and my decisions, and not use them as something to fight
about amongst yourselves.”
“Wonderful.” Gerry sat back, flushing hotly and
glaring at Darcy. “You got him involved. Is there anyone yet-”
“Who doesn’t know you were a bitch and a half? No.”
Wade interrupted irritably. “He’s got the right to involve anyone he wants,
that’s his prerogative. Once you’ve sent the texts they’re no longer yours Ger,
it’s out there for anyone to see and if you’re not comfortable with them being
seen then you should think about why.”
“I lost my temper,” Gerry began hotly and Wade
snorted.
“Darcy suggested you reined it in, that was all, and
bam, you dispatched the flying monkeys.”
Jasper was right; this was irrelevant noise, and
getting increasingly bizarre. Drying his hands with no idea what Wade meant and
a growing inability to stand this stalemate, Dale cast a brief look around to
Paul, who looked to him as though he was keeping his mouth shut with an effort.
Riley was drinking tea at the far end of the kitchen and looking impatient,
still in his jacket beside Jasper who was standing evenly with his arms folded.
While Jasper’s expression was neutral, Dale had no trouble at all in reading
it. Flynn, seated on Luath’s other side, was looking grim and his hands, while
linked together between his knees and quiet enough, were tense. So was his jaw.
Theo looked concerned. Ash was leaning with his elbows on his knees as if this
was draining him. James looked frankly tired and frustrated. They were all
keeping their own partners managed but it was perfectly clear that neither Theo
nor Ash thought it was their place to speak out here at this table in the way
that needed doing, and it was asking a great deal of James who was being –
rather peculiarly quiet, from what Dale knew of James. Luath was sitting with
Darcy and Dale could read in his body he was here for Darcy, and for Darcy he
was going to do nothing at all that had to do with involving himself with this
quarrel. And Darcy was sitting in the middle of all this, white faced and
brittle as if he was going to fracture, his eyes down on his hands and his body
tense. There were seriously, fourteen rational adult men in this kitchen, all
of whom knew better, shouting at each other about flying monkeys.
This
is ridiculous. It’s going nowhere. And I’m staying out of this why?
For a moment, peculiarly, Dale found himself
thinking fleetingly of the sweet shop in Cheyenne, standing back and watching
Riley among those brightly coloured barrels.
Not
admitting or standing your ground for something you wanted, not if anyone else
was looking or might think you cared or wanted it. Or that you were afraid to
risk trying to get it. Or that you were entitled to it in the first place.
What
a lot of rubbish.
This
is about all of us, it’s the job of all of us and this is ridiculous.
Laying the towel neatly over the rail of the oven to
dry, Dale abandoned any sense of restraint or self-control for being quite
simply annoyed, stepped past Jasper and Riley to drop his hands on the edge of
the table and looked directly across at Wade, then Bear and Gerry, and lifted
his own voice to penetrate straight across the noise.
“Right. This is utterly disgraceful, what are you
doing? All I’m hearing is varying forms of sulking. I don’t hear anyone
interested in what’s important here, which is taking responsibility for what
was done and putting effort into repairing it. We don’t talk to each other this
way. We don’t act this way in this house.”
There was a shocked, abashed silence. Aware that
Paul was listening to this and not making one move to indicate to him it wasn’t
a good idea, Dale leaned on the table and fixed his gaze direct on Gerry.
“I don’t care who said what or who meant what. It’s
not relevant. Perhaps it might have been yesterday but frankly by this point
I’ve lost interest because it’s what’s going on right here that is absolutely
unacceptable to me.”
“Amen. And me.” Riley said very emphatically behind
him. Dale felt Flynn’s hand on his back as Flynn quietly walked past him and
out of the room, and it was not a settle
down kind of a touch. The room had gone very still.
“What did Philip used to say about someone else
having a bad day?” he said shortly. It was a question expecting an answer,
these were men who responded to that tone and this kind of manner and Gerry
responded, very unwillingly but immediately.
“…….. you help or get out of their way.”
“Your choice as to which, but you don’t make things
worse.” Dale’s gaze took in Darcy who was for the first time showing colour in
his face, largely of embarrassment, but he was looking. “We all know how this
works. We all know where the line is and when it’s time to flag things up to
those of us who could have sorted this in one night, in a few hours.”
“Not always that easy.” Wade pointed out.
“I’ve noticed that, but I didn’t think that took away the responsibility.” Dale said aridly. Riley nodded definite confirmation to him, and around the table Bear, Wade and Gerry all reacted. He saw the unwilling acknowledgement, they every one of them knew it because they’d taught it to him. “Don’t we all have it? All anyone needed to do was talk to Ash or ask their partner to talk to Ash. That would have been it. Darcy might not have that obligation in the same way but the rest of us I know very well do. So this is what is going to happen. Gerry, you’re up. Now. You have exactly a minute, so do the others, and then we are going to be done with this. Get a bloody grip.”
Flynn reappeared beside him, there was a quiet and
distinct click as he laid the Lexan paddle down right in the middle of the
table, and he leaned right there beside Dale, both hands propped on the wooden
surface. He was significantly broader than Dale, and taller. There was a moment
of frozen silence where Gerry, Wade, Darcy and Bear looked at the paddle laying
there.
“One.” Flynn said very bluntly indeed.
“Two.”
And then abruptly Gerry looked directly at Darcy,
talking fast enough that it was hard to keep up with him, as if a lid had been
pulled off.
“I am sorry for the crack about you flirting with –
knocking off – whoever you work with, I didn’t want to hear that I was wasting
time or not doing it well, I was in a state and you were right. I’m very sorry for everything I said about
you and Luath. I don’t think that, I really don’t, and it’s none of my business
anyway.”
“Too right.” Luath said from the other end of the
table. Gerry flushed but glanced down to him.
“I know. Luthe, I apologise to you too, and for the
ranting I did at the rest of you when you said I was acting like an ass.”
“Wade.” Dale said crisply. Wade gave him a look that was part amused and part appreciative, nodding to him.
“Yes. Ger, I’m sorry for being mean right back, I
didn’t like what you were saying and I could have put it less nastily. I don’t
like this time of year and I admit I like a fight a bit too much, it’s
something else to think about. You just got in my way at a bad moment or I’d
have handled it a bit better.”
“Bear.” Dale turned his eyes to Bear, making a brief glance at his watch. Bear looked back at him, then looked across to Niall.
“I’m sorry for ragging on you that you were
sticking your nose in. But that’s all I’m sorry for.”
Flynn abruptly put a hand over the paddle and gave
it a shove, sliding it efficiently and fast across the table to Theo who picked
it up, got up and pulled Bear to his feet with the other hand. He didn’t hold
back in the slightest with swinging the paddle directly against Bear’s backside
and the crack was loud, followed by a high yelp from Bear who clapped his hands
behind him over the seat of his jeans, twisting more energetically than seemed
possible for such a big man.
“Bear.”
Dale repeated, waiting. Bear, out of breath but apparently with the power of
speech fully restored, looked from him swiftly to Gerry.
“What you said to Darcy was not ok, it really
sucked.”
“I know,” Gerry said shamefacedly, “You’re right, it did and I’m very sorry about it.”
“Then I’m kind of sorry for nagging at you, but I still think you asked for it and apologising doesn’t make everything right.”
“I know. I think that’s probably honest.” Gerry
twisted around to him as Bear stooped down, giving him a hug that for a moment
engulfed Gerry entirely.
“Niall.” Dale said, and Gerry shook his head.
“No, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you were
the one person who stayed out of it and tried to help.”
“I should have gone straight to James.” Niall looked briefly at James who was watching him, face expressionless, but Dale could see they’d been holding hands beneath the level of the table for a while. “I’m as responsible as anyone else for this getting to be an overinflated mess, and Dale’s quite right, we all know better.”
“Darcy.” Dale looked at the last member of the
group who looked more than slightly alarmed but was a much better colour and
looked far less near to shattering. Luath was sitting close to him, his arm
against Darcy’s, and Darcy met his eye.
“I could have been more tactful.” He looked towards
Gerry and Bear, “…..I do get jealous when you talk about avoiding support I
know is right there any time you need it. It’s not a luxury all of us have and
it’s not always easy to listen to you taking it for granted. But it’s relative,
isn’t it? I know why you feel that way, it’s your everyday life. I do
understand.”
His voice was very soft, and Gerry’s face across
the table was stricken and deeply sympathetic.
“It wasn’t ok for me to disappear without letting
you know I was walking away for a few days.” Darcy looked from Gerry to Wade
and then Bear and Niall. “I’m sorry, I know that scared you. I was hurt and
embarrassed and I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to be here knowing you’re
looking at me and thinking I’m fooling myself or chickening out of any real relationship.”
Darcy paused and Dale saw him look across to Luath and then Jasper who nodded,
slightly and calmly. “Or especially,” Darcy said more clearly although he went
a little paler, “That I take advantage of Luath.”
“You don’t.” Luath said bluntly. “I’m the one who’d
know.”
“So are we done?” Flynn leaned on his knuckles on
the table, looking from face to face in turn. “Then there’s the question of
reparation here, and as far as I can see you owe time to everyone else here,
whether through this acting out with texts or this acting out around since you
got here. Paul, what can be done for you?”
“I could use the log baskets filled and the fire
place swept out and cleaned,” Paul said without hesitation, “And the laundry
room scrubbed out with all the white goods moved and cleaned underneath.”
“Jas?”
Jasper considered, arms still folded. “The stalls
scoured out in the stables, the oil changed in both tractors, the porch
scrubbed down – boards and rails – and the yard swept and raked.”
That was a lot. There were several glances from
Gerry and Bear in particular that said they got the message. They were looking
distinctly subdued.
“Riley?” Flynn looked to Riley beside Jasper.
“Dale and I had that broken shelter to be taken
apart and rebuilt, and the yearling cattle to get in and check their tags.”
Riley hoisted himself up to sit on the counter. “You’re welcome to cover that
for us.”
“Dale?”
Flynn looked across to him and Riley gave him a
fixed stare that warned him clearly not to hesitate. Having seen this before,
Dale needed no time to think today.
“Philip’s books in the study need taking down and
wiping and the leather bound ones cleaning, and the shelves dusting out, I’ve
been looking for time to do that.”
Flynn nodded, looking up at the now rather stricken looking five men around the table.
“Sweet. And I could do with the weather proofing
finished in the yard and given a top coat. Sheds, porch, barn door, both gates.
Ash, you’re more than welcome to add any
chores you like to that list, but I’m going to suggest you and James and Theo
take the rest of your time here as vacation. Your partners can cover the work
you’d usually help with.”
James looked grimly satisfied, Ash quite content
with the conversation, and Theo glanced up at Dale and gave him a fleeting but
a very definite wink and smile.
“I’m never going to remember all that,” Gerry
pleaded faintly. Riley dug in the drawer beneath his legs and tossed a notebook
and pen to Dale.
“No worries, he will. Have a list.”
~ The End ~
Copyright Rolf and Ranger 2015
1 comment:
I loved this so much!
I really enjoy how Dale is able to fill Phillips shoes in certain aspects.
The baton passed from the eldest Top to the newest brat.
I often wonder about what will happen to the ranch and the family once Dale and Riley are too old to run it... How will new members be recruited?
I can't bear to think of it ending with them.
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