A Wealth of Unsaid Words (15 page)

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

“There"s cocoa in there somewhere,” Alex responded

preemptively, and Everett rolled his eyes but took a sip. He

instantly coughed.

“You could start a fire with this,” he wheezed.

“I suppose you could.” Not that they needed one. He was

warm already from being this close to the flames. Everett

had changed his sweater for a T-shirt a while ago. His skin

was flushed. Alex quickly raised his gaze. “Now drink up,

Everett.” Everett wasn"t the only one who could use liquor to

try to get what he wanted. He put a finger to the bottom of

the mug to tip it further back when Everett took another

drink, and then while Everett was coughing and distracted,

Alex dropped down to sit on the floor.

He could see the TV from where he was, though he

didn"t care about what was on. The fire was warm, and if he

leaned back, he could rest against the chair and Everett"s

leg. He pulled up the sleeves of his sweater and pulled out a

small rubber band to tie back his hair.

“You aren"t having anything?” Everett had reason to

wonder. Molly and Ty had been doing shots of something for

the past two hours. Rachel and her husband were sticking to

wine. Robert had some of George"s whiskey. Aunt Gigi, who

was generally not considered part of the younger group, had

had some too. George and Ally and some of the others were

either having their cups of Christmas cheer in the kitchen or

had gone to bed already, George barking at everyone to keep

the noise down. Alex could have had a glass of something

and sipped it.

72

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

“There"s no fun in it when everyone else is drunk,” Alex

mused out loud, not quite fully honest. “How else am I

supposed to observe events and use them for my own artistic

gain?”

“You are truly evil.” Everett was properly awed. He even

took another drink, coughing less this time. The sound made

Alex sigh and lean back. Everett wasn"t angry with him

anymore. He wasn"t ready to ask Everett about the poems

yet, and he wasn"t going to ask what Everett had meant

earlier, but for now, this was enough.

“That"s what my teachers always insisted,” he pointed

out. His bones were weary, too, and they left behind an ache

as he relaxed. Everett poked his head.

“That"s just because you were smarter than them and

never listened to anyone.”

“To anyone but you,” Alex corrected, then swore softly to

himself. Everett was slow to reply.

“Is that true?” he asked at last, hesitation that shouldn"t

be there in his voice. Alex eased back against the chair and

closed his eyes before reaching out. He put a hand around

Everett"s leg and held it tightly.

If Everett doubted him, it was Alex"s own fault. He had

said no, or said nothing, at seventeen and then again and

again. Of course Everett had been left to wonder. But he

clutched at Everett before nodding.

“Yes.”

73

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

There was a long sigh above him. Alex waited to speak,

listening to every sound Everett made and wondering if

Everett would ask him now, be as bold or reckless as Ty, or

if it was Everett"s turn not to speak.

Instead, after a few moments, Everett poked his head

again. Alex frowned and tilted his head back to look up at

him. Upside down Everett was getting pinker and had a

strange look on his face. Pleasure and pride and a wicked,

wicked light in his eye.

It was Everett who could lead good men astray and had

bad ones at his feet. It seemed impossible that he would

have any doubts. But again when Alex opened his mouth,

the damned words remained trapped.

“Drink up, and I"ll get you another Santa"s Little

Helper,” he offered hoarsely and let the clumsy hand

wrapped around Everett"s calf speak for him.

“To your health, then.” Everett was breathing hard, but

he raised the mug and downed it in a few swallows. Alex

watched his throat move, the sheen of sweat in the firelight,

and then reconsidered his intentions when Everett fixed him

with wide, trusting eyes. Hopeful eyes, as though aware of

how their roles had reversed since that night.

Alex got up, went into the kitchen, and came quickly

back with another mug for Everett. Everett took it, though

Alex couldn"t hear him drinking it as he sat back down

against the chair.

There was a mess of wrapping paper from where each of

the children had opened their single present for the night.

74

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

They were all upstairs now, probably too excited to sleep.

But thinking of them wasn"t much of a distraction, and,

charming though they were, the children weren"t why he was

here now.

His reasoning a year ago had been a bit scattered, but

his goal had been clear. If Everett still wanted him, then Alex

had to be strong enough to have him, and to potentially lose

him. He no longer had the false confidence that euphoria

and mania had given him. He couldn"t bluff himself into

thinking that that would never happen. He"d had to know,

now that he was as sane as he"d ever be, if he could trust his

own mind again.

For the last year he"d had to. And he"d made it,

relatively unscathed, minus one wooden duck and a few

other bits of crap, and the hole in him with Everett"s name

on it.

“That was part of the problem, you know. My health. I

never explained it to you properly. I… have a bit of a problem

with that, Everett, believe it or not. You make me stumble

over my words.” He stared into the fire and hoped Everett

was good and drunk already.

“You didn"t have any trouble speaking last Christmas,”

Everett interrupted him. “Or, I guess, the day after

Christmas, after driving me home. You didn"t have any

problem in telling me you couldn"t see me for a year. „A year,

Everett," you said. „I need a year away from you."”

“And you asked why.” He looked at the fire until the

scent of hot pine and smoke made him feel ill. Alex hadn"t

75

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

forgotten it either. It had been freezing outside then, too, but

Everett hadn"t seemed to notice.

“And you asked me if I wanted you.” With booze in him,

Everett was bringing up everything, but he might have done

the same totally sober if Alex had ever had the courage

before to speak this directly. “Out of nowhere you said

something so stupid, so wrong, down below my apartment,

where I always ask you, Alex. Where I"ve
always
asked you

up, every time I see you, I ask, I plead—”

“I"ve always had you, Everett,” Alex rushed on. He had

to get this out, he couldn"t wait, and he couldn"t say it if he

had to think about what Everett was telling him now.

“Through thick and thin, you have always been there. A…

good friend. The best friend.”

Everett made a small, hurt noise, but Alex kept going.

“So I had to ask myself, what if I didn"t?” He could barely say

those unbelievably frightening words. His face was stinging,

his eyes were dry, but he couldn"t even blame the fire. “I had

to see if I could, Everett. If I could make it. Be strong

enough. If I couldn"t… you"d be awfully disappointed in me,

wouldn"t you?”

He tried to be light again. “Anyway, I couldn"t do that to

George and Ally again. Your mother would never let me hear

the end of it.”

The attempt at levity failed. He put his fists down into

the carpet and didn"t breathe until Everett"s hand landed on

his shoulder. He didn"t mind the weight. The pressure let

76

A Wealth of Unsaid Words • R. Cooper

him exhale, though he didn"t speak. Everett was silent, too,

probably thinking, considering what to say.

After a while he handed the mug down. Alex took a

grateful drink and handed it back. He could only guess what

Everett was thinking about, but he knew where his mind