Bowl Full of Cherries (13 page)

“I already told him,” Andy declared loudly. “It’s covered, Uncle Tyler.”

Tyler quirked an eyebrow. Sondra looked up at him, her bangs a sharp line just above her dark eyebrows. All her club makeup had been scrubbed away, replaced by softer hues. She had a clean, innocent face that contrasted the bright, bold lines of her tattoos he’d seen the night before.

The cousins were wearing matching, truly hideous, Christmas sweaters. They were bright green with a totem pole of Christmas-y kitsch ironed onto the front and outlined in shirt paint. Very early-nineties. Santa’s face, then Mrs. Claus’s face above that, then a reindeer, and on top a star with rhinestones. Tyler’s had started to peel.

“You made the shirts, didn’t you?” Crowley asked, taking the large armchair near the window. Someone had hung a bird feeder, and a vibrant red cardinal landed and pecked at the seed inside.

“I bought them on Etsy,” Tyler said.

“I love Etsy,” Sondra said dreamily. “But I’m never anywhere long enough to get a package delivered.”

“Where all have you been?” Crowley asked.

“She’s been everywhere,” Tyler said.

Sondra’s smile was pleasant and calm. “It’s easier to explain where I
haven’t
been, sometimes.” She leaned her head onto Tyler’s shoulder and studied Crowley. “I haven’t been to… hmm….”

“Antarctica?” Crowley guessed. That was usually the place world travelers said they hadn’t been.

“She’s been.” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve been to Oklahoma,” she said.

“You’ve been to Antarctica, but not Oklahoma?”

“Wait, no, I’ve been. Because we went down to see the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve. Got some great shots of the bison. I started a stampede!”

“No naked people?” Tyler snarked. Andy snorted.

“Just bison,” Sondra said. “So are we ever going to go to the Nook? I’m wasting away.”

“We’re waiting for the babies,” Andy huffed, throwing himself down on the couch.

“Eight and six, compared to your ten?” Sondra teased, and Andy glared at her.

“Sondra, you don’t get it at all. Ten is double digits. He’s just three years away from being a teenager.” Coming out of anyone else’s mouth that would have sounded harassing, but Tyler nodded at his nephew and Andy beamed back at him.

“You going to teach me to drive, Uncle Tyler?”

“I thought I was going to teach you to drive.” Rell, dressed casually in jeans and a superhero tee over a thin, long-sleeved shirt, had come to stand in the door that led from the entry hallway. “You guys aren’t going to the Nook without me, are you?”

“Mom said you’re supposed to clean out the garage or something,” Tyler told him.

Rell looked momentarily disgruntled, and then a very wicked smile spread across his lips. “You know, maybe we could all go to breakfast together as a family and then when we get home, again, as a family, we could—”

“No.”

“C’mon, Tyler. You owe me. You owe me like a million times.”

“
No.
I’m not helping you clean out the garage.”

“I will,” Crowley said immediately. His motivation was selfish. He wasn’t thinking about the
Rain Queen
cards or the work involved or any of it. He imagined being alone with Rell in the garage. Low, intimate conversations, stolen kisses. Could anything be less of a chore?

Rell’s smile alone was worth whatever boxes they needed to move and whatever sweeping had to be done. “Thank you, I’ll gladly take your help.”

“No, Crowley, you really, really don’t want to agree to this. It’s pretty much the most horrible work on the planet.”

“Okay, one, seriously, Ty, you
owe
me. And two, in addition to
owing me
, don’t try to talk people who will help out of helping.”

“I’ll help, too,” Andy said brightly. Crap. So maybe no intimately stolen kisses.

“Cool. Good.” Rell walked over to the couch and fist-bumped his nephew before turning back to Tyler. “I’ve got your favorite nephew and your best friend on board.
And you owe me
. So…?”

“Cleaning the garage is just cruel.”

“We’re going to find a lot of cool shit in there,” Rell tempted. “You know we will.”

“I like cool shit,” Andy said excitedly, exaggerating the last word.

“Hell yeah you do,” Rell said.

“You’d better not be cursing in there!” A sharp female voice cracked through the living room from somewhere else in the house. Andy cowered and every pair of eyes—except Sondra’s—went wide at the sound.

“We’re not, Jes!” Rell lied.

“Because I will beat the life out of every last one of you!”

“Would you two not shout across the house? You’re going to wake up the baby!” a different female voice cried.

“Sorry, Katie!” Both Rell and Jes shouted at the same time.

Crowley loved every second in the Lang household.

“S
O
WHAT
is this place?” Crowley asked, following the group as they walked along the snowy sidewalk. He was much more careful with his steps, not wanting to fall on his butt in front of all of them like he had at the Toys “R” Us. Rell slowed down so that Crowley fell in line with him. Crowley could feel Rell’s fingers twitch. They both wanted to hold hands.

“Tammer’s Nook. Pretty much the best restaurant in the valley. It’s down on the Square. Just a little farther,” he promised.

“It’s quaint,” Tyler said without turning back. “Way better than anything around our apartment in Avona. You’ll like it.”

He more than liked it.

The bell above the door rang as they stepped over the threshold into the bustling warmth of the restaurant. Despite the early morning and it being Christmas Eve, the tables were almost all full. Traditional Christmas songs played over the loudspeaker and a petite, older woman in a festive skirt greeted them with menus.

“How many in your party?”

Tyler turned to count. “Seven.”

The hostess’s smile didn’t falter, and she said brightly, “Lemme push some tables together and we can….” She turned and looked. “Well, actually… I’ve got a table for four—we can scooch a chair around and make it five, but then two of you would be somewhere else. Otherwise, I think it might be a bit of a wait.”

“Owl and I’ll get our own table.” Rell said it with such smooth confidence that for a moment it didn’t sound strange at all. Tyler turned to look at his twin and said, “Actually, I think I’ll hang out with my roommate for a little while. Why don’t you try to win back the kids? Ha!”

Rell’s eyes narrowed, but there was nothing he could say. It wasn’t as if he could just look at Tyler and mention casually, “Oh, by the way, Crowley and I made out last night and now we’re going to grab a table together and talk and hold hands and maybe play footsie.” As Tyler led the way to their two-seater, Crowley looked back at Rell. Footsie would have been bliss.

They sat near the large Christmas tree. It was a good three feet taller than the large tree in the Lang’s living room and, as he took his chair, Crowley inhaled deeply on the scent of pine.

“It’s a real tree,” he said, surprised. He was so used to plastic.

Hundreds of pieces of popcorn had been strung together to make garland, and from almost every branch hung a delicate silver ornament, glimmering in the white and blue Christmas lights.

A pretty waitress in a skirt that matched the hostess’s wandered over to them and placed menus in their hands.

“Is Mr. Tammer running the special today, Jen?” Tyler asked her, and she smiled at him.

“For lunch. You’ll have to come back later.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Get you boys something to drink?” she asked.

“Coffee,” Crowley said uncertainly, looking over the breakfast menu. Double portions, fried, greasy, covered in gravy, everything seemed to come with a heaping helping of clogged arteries. He flipped to the backside, desperate for something he could eat and not hate himself over.

“Is your eggnog organic?” Tyler asked. “And do you need to see my ID?”

“Unless you conned your way into kindergarten, Tyler Lang, I’m pretty sure I know how old you are, but I’m not answering the organic question. I’ll get your drinks. Take a few minutes with the menu.”

She was back before Crowley really had a chance to think. He guessed, hoping that behind the flour and tins of lard, there was something for him. “Egg whites and fruit?”

The waitress quirked an eyebrow at him as if no one who had ever walked into Tammer’s Nook had ordered a gravyless breakfast before. Tyler didn’t say anything.

“So… tell me about this special.”

“The owner, Mr. Tammer runs a special every day. Guess the secret ingredient and you get the meal for free. So anyway,” Tyler said pointedly. “What really happened last night when you guys vanished?”

Crowley had been expecting it, and he hadn’t. He knew if he lied there would be follow-up questions. Those damn follow-up questions.

“It was stupid. Someone commented on my weight. I let it get to me. I went out to grab some air.”

Tyler turned, the light reflecting off his glasses. He was trying to decide if he believed his roommate.

“And then Rell came outside. We went for a walk.”

“The end?”

“The end,” Crowley said. He wondered if he could casually fit in, “I mean, we kissed a couple of times…” like it was no big deal. From the corner of his eye, he saw Rell heading somewhere—probably the restroom. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead as Tyler scrutinized his face. Any longer and Crowley was going to blab everything.
Everything
.

“I’ve got to use the bathroom. Know where it is?”

B
Y
THAT
wonderful sort of miracle orchestrated by the fates, the bathroom door had a lock. Crowley clicked it and Rell looked up from the sink. A smile spread across his face as he studied Crowley’s reflection.

“A covered bridge last night,” he said, turning off the faucet. “And now you’ve locked us in the bathroom with an old guy.”

Crowley’s heart stopped and his palms went cold.

“Teasing.”

But Crowley checked the stall at the far end of the bathroom anyway, just in case. When he turned, he found Rell behind him, stalking forward with a wicked glint in his dark blue eyes. Crowley’s back hit the cold tile of the wall, and Rell placed his hands on the wall, just above Crowley’s head. Then he leaned in and “stole” the kiss Crowley had been dreaming about all morning.

“How many more days do I have with you?” Rell groaned.

“I think Tyler said we’re leaving on the twenty-seventh.”

Rell dropped one hand, trailing his knuckles over Crowley’s cheek. As soon as Rell’s hand fell away, Crowley wanted it back.

“Three full days,” Rell mused. “You’d better tell me now if you don’t think that’s enough time.”

“Enough time for what?” Crowley asked, genuinely confused.

“Enough time for us to figure this thing out.”

Wildly, impossibly bold, Crowley whispered, “I think I might really like you, Averell Lang.”

“That’s a good start.”

“So what’s the next step?”

“More kissing.”

“Yes.”

“And secrets.”

“Secrets?”

“Yours. I want to know them. All of them.”

Crowley’s heart went all gooey.

“Why do you study violin if you don’t like it?”

He blinked.
Huh?
“I love the violin.”

“But when I asked you about it when we first met, your nose crinkled. Right… here.” He kissed the rounded tip. “I want to know why.”

“You wouldn’t rather kiss?”

“Why don’t you answer
while
I kiss you,” Rell said, and he started to place wicked kisses up Crowley’s neck. He sucked lightly at the sensitive skin, stirring up Crowley’s mind and making him crazy. “So? Conservatory?”

“Mmm….”

“You taste salty. I love your neck.”

“I-I… love the violin. I just… don’t… uhn….”

“Go on,” Rell whispered into Crowley’s ear, running the tip of his tongue over the soft lobe. He nipped at it, and Crowley jerked in his pants.

“I want to be Corey Cartwright. I-I want to fiddle. I want to play folk music. I want to busk. I want to travel. I want t-to play in festivals. I want….” He’d never spoken it aloud. In fact, he’d never so clearly expressed his dissatisfaction, even in his own head, before.

“Do it,” Rell said.

“Gotta hedge my bets. Conservatory first, then dreams. Oh….” He groaned, leaning into the hand that had come to his neck to pull him into another long kiss.

“Secrets and kisses,” Rell murmured against Crowley’s lips. “But you should get back to Tyler now. We’re not exactly safe alone like this.” And Rell pointed to his waist where he was noticeably hard. Crowley bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, we are
not
getting off to a good start if you’re going to laugh at my cock.”

“I’m not laughing at your—It’s just…. Really campy. First time in a bathroom?”

“Obviously
you
do not have the same things in mind that I do.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Crowley said very quietly.

“I don’t want our first time to be in a bathroom either. Get back to Tyler.”