A Clean Break (Gay Amish Romance Book 2) (19 page)

He imagined Anna’s mischievous smile, and Mary’s exasperation. It was hard to think about one without the other. “Did she mention Mary?”

There was a pause, and then June sighed. “Yes. I think poor Mary’s heartbroken. It seems she carried a torch for Isaac, yes?”

He nodded, and then remembered to say, “Yes.” Shame settled over him like an old blanket. Then he recalled what Isaac had said. Before he could think twice, he asked, “Do you think Anna knows?”

With a start, he realized
June
might not know. When he and Isaac had arrived breathless at her door after fleeing church, she hadn’t asked even a single question. His pulse raced. “I should tell you that Isaac and I… That we’re…”

Amazingly, she laughed. “Oh, honey. I know.”

“You do?” he whispered.

“I’d wondered about you, but the night you brought Isaac over for the first time I knew without a doubt. The way you looked at him? As if he’d hung the moon and half the stars to boot.”

“You don’t mind?” He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or weep.

“Why should I mind? You’re just the way God made you. You and Isaac love each other, and that makes my old heart glad.”

He cast about for the right thing to say. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you.” Something she’d said bounced around in his mind. “If you could tell when you saw me with Isaac, do you think anyone else knows?” He got up to pace in front of the television.

“I don’t know, David. She didn’t say so, but I think it’s a safe bet that Anna’s figured it out. The way she asked about you and Isaac—there was just something in her expression.”

“Not much gets past her. But if Mary finds out—if my
mother
finds out—” He struggled to breathe.

“Don’t borrow trouble. There’s no reason to think they will.”

His lungs stuttered, and he felt light in the head for a moment, as if he’d had too much wine or beer. “They can’t find out. I can’t do that to them after everything else. After my brother—it would be too much.”

“You know I won’t tell them, hon. Try not to worry about it. You just get settled in your new life. That’s more than enough for you to deal with right now. Remember, you can call me any time if it gets to be too much. If you need money, or advice, or just to talk.” For a moment her voice tightened. “David, I was never able to have children of my own. It was a terrible loss that brought you to my doorstep, but I thank God every day for the blessing of having you in my life.”

A sob choked him, and tears wet his cheeks. “I love you.” Aside from Isaac, he wasn’t sure he’d ever told someone that out loud. He’d said it to Mother in the hospital, but she’d been unconscious, a machine tapping out the beats of her heart.

June sniffed. “All right, that’s enough mushy stuff, huh? I’d better get to bed. Stay in touch. I hope Anna can make it back soon to call you. Sleep well, kiddo.”

“Goodnight. Thank you.”

After a few moments a steady noise bleated from the phone, and he pressed buttons until it stopped. After turning off the lights, David stood by the window, watching the red and white lights of the odd car that passed by on the hill with a fleeting
whoosh
. For once the city seemed still.

In the little bathroom near the front door, he splashed his face with cold water and stared in the mirror. His eyes were a little red, but nothing that should worry Isaac. He was glad June called—in a good way it had made Zebulon feel a little closer. His family was all right, and he had to trust in the Lord to keep them that way. He closed his eyes and said a prayer.

When he was finished, David straightened up and looked at himself again. A new week was starting tomorrow, and enough was enough. It was time to stop letting himself falter and use excuses. He would find a workshop and figure out all the things he didn’t understand.

“I can do this.” His voice was timid, and he cleared his throat. “I can do this,” he repeated, louder.
Better
. It would do for now.

Upstairs, Isaac was already curled under the covers. He raised his head. “Everything’s all right?” he mumbled.

“Yes. Go to sleep.”

“Mmm. I was going to tell you…that thing…” His eyes closed.

Laughing softly, David flicked off the lamp and tiptoed to the bathroom, closing the door gently. He smeared toothpaste on his new electric toothbrush. Aaron had bought a pack of two at a store called Costco that had big versions of everything in a huge warehouse. David and Isaac had followed him up and down the aisles in wonder.

He pressed the button and put the toothbrush in his mouth, still jumping a little at the whirling vibration. It was like using an electric sander on his teeth, but they’d never felt so smooth and clean.

When he’d spit out the last of the minty paste, he ran his hand over the stubble on his face. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and the dark hair already growing in shadowed his cheeks and chin, and above his lip. Some English men did this on purpose—scruff, Jen had called it. David thought vainly that it didn’t look bad. Maybe he’d keep it for a few days.

Back in the bedroom, he undressed in the dark and listened to Isaac’s deep breathing. He’d always slept in a nightshirt before, but now he went naked, as did Isaac. David slipped between the sheets and rolled onto his side, pulling Isaac back against him. He rubbed his cheek against the short softness of Isaac’s hair and kissed his neck.

When he woke, the night was still thick. The shadows of the room came into focus as David realized the noise was coming from Isaac, huddled in a ball on the edge of the bed with his back to David, his head buried in the pillow. Whimpers, sniffles—a sob.

“Isaac?” David was instantly awake, scooting across the space between them to hold Isaac close. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Isaac mumbled, choking on another sob.

“Shh.” David stroked Isaac’s arm and rubbed his hip, pulling him back against his body. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right.” David’s heart galloped. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Isaac’s head was still down, and his voice was muffled in the pillow. “It’s nothing. Only a dream.”

“A dream of what?” David caressed Isaac’s head, pressing kisses to his shoulder.

Isaac shivered. “It seemed so real. I was home again, and…”

David swallowed thickly over the nausea that rose up. “What?”

“We were in church, and everyone was there.” Isaac shuddered. “They knew the truth. Mother and Father were so angry. They hated me, David.”

He eased Isaac over and cradled Isaac’s head to his chest. “It was only a dream. I promise.”

“I wish I could call them and hear their voices. Just to know they’re okay.” He trembled. “We’re so far away. I miss them. I don’t want to go home, but I want to see them. I wish…”

Isaac’s tears were wet on David’s chest, and he rubbed Isaac’s back. “I know. I wish it too.”

“I’m so glad you’re here. If you’d stayed, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d miss you so much I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”

“I’ll never leave you, Eechel. I’m right here. Go back to sleep.” He kissed Isaac’s head.

David stared at the faint pattern of the street lamps through the blinds, shadows and light spreading over the walls and ceiling. His earlier resolve grew stronger with each little shuddering breath Isaac took.

No more procrastination and naps. He’d get his business up and running so he could take proper care of Isaac. He would keep him safe and happy. He wouldn’t disappoint him. As Isaac burrowed close, David petted him and murmured a lullaby he hadn’t heard in years.

“Schlof, bubeli, schlof…”

He wouldn’t fail this time.

“Well, well, well.” Clark whistled as he took off his mirrored sunglasses. “Looking good. The space isn’t bad either.”

David flushed, trying not to smile. He put down his saw and wiped his brow. He was down to just a T-shirt and jeans, the day warmer than any since they’d arrived in the city at the very end of January. It was almost April now, and spring was blooming. “Thanks. It’s not much, but it’ll do.”

“Not much? Honey, this is San Francisco. This garage is a palace. You and Aaron done good finding this place. Not too far from home either.”

“Just two bus rides.” His least favorite part of the day, but unavoidable.

“Three from my office. I don’t venture down to Excelsior for just anyone, I’ll have you know.” He winked. “But I make exceptions for hunky Amish men who are building me furniture.”

David looked down and fiddled with a nick in the worktable he’d built. He was getting used to Clark’s flirty ways, but it still put him off balance. He focused on the table. It was smaller than his was in Zebulon, but he was learning everything was smaller in the city. He was renting the concrete garage for more than he thought possible for a dusty rectangle behind a row of narrow houses, but it was his.

There was hardly any room to move with all the supplies packed in. It was a relief that the lumber store he’d found delivered. Eventually he’d get a pickup truck, but for now it would do. He shuffled over so Clark could walk around the table. “Sorry. It’s a tight fit.”

“That’s what she said. Or he.” Clark grinned.

He wasn’t sure he completely understood the joke, but David laughed and motioned to the little couch along the back squeezed between the bathroom door and the wall. “Do you want to sit?” The garage had been used previously as a workshop, and the owner had fortunately built a tiny bathroom.

“You’ve even got a love seat in here. Why, David Lantz, are you trying to suggest something?” Clark batted his eyelashes.

David froze. “Uh, no. I just thought you might want to sit. It’s from that store IKEA. It’s Swedish? Not very well made, but it was cheap. It’s comfortable enough, but you don’t have to sit if you don’t want to.”

“Honey, it’s okay. Breathe. Don’t mind me. I’m a flirty bitch, and I just can’t help myself.” Clark peered at the collection of wood scattered on the table. “So this is where the magic happens, huh? Don’t you get lonely being all cooped up in here by yourself?”

David thought of the cool dew of the grass beneath his bare feet when he’d walk to the barn on summer mornings, and the rough wet of Kaffi’s tongue when he approached with sugar cubes nestled in his palm. Isaac’s smile as he wiped sweat from beneath the brim of his hat, and the sweet warmth of fresh cookies.

“Not really,” he lied, scuffing his sneaker through the sawdust covering the cement. “It was nice back home when Isaac was with me every day, and in the barn the roof was so high and the horses were there. I wish there was room here for animals, but I don’t suppose I have any use for a horse in San Francisco.”

“Nope—just bears.” Clark waggled his eyebrows.

David had the feeling Clark was referencing something sexual as usual, but he couldn’t imagine what. While he thought of something else to say, the music started from the next garage. He tensed, trying to tamp down the immediate irritation that gripped him whenever
the thump-thump-thump
reverberated down the alley. David could never hear the words—just the pounding rhythm.

“Someone enjoys his Jay-Z. Who’s your neighbor?”

“Alan. He works on motorcycles, and he likes to listen to music. A lot.”

“You should get your own sound system in here, baby. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“Maybe.” But David didn’t want to listen to loud noise. He wanted to hear the scrape of his spokeshave and the music of the saw as the wood transformed into what he wanted it to be.

“I hear Isaac’s loving school, huh?” Clark took off his leather bag from across his chest.

“He is.” David smiled. “He’s taken to it like a fish to water. He wanted to be a carpenter before, but there’s so much more here for him.” And if that hurt more than it should, David tried to ignore the sting. He was only being selfish in wanting Isaac with him every day the way it used to be. “But he still comes here a couple times a week to work with me.”

Leaning a hip against the worktable, Clark unzipped his light coat and slung it over his shoulder before pointing to the stack of lumber on the floor. “Is that for the chairs? The color looks right.” He grinned. “I’m getting excited!”