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Authors: Amy Lane

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BOOK: Candy Man
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“But aren’t those, you know, overpasses?” Adam hated to rain on his parade.

“But no! This would be a whole different concept in urban development. It’s like the tunnel, right? That leads from here to K Street? Except the
opposite
of that! And way the hell bigger.”

Adam looked at him, nodding excitedly, and thought of another picture—this one of Finn, the real boy, without his fleece hat, building a giant bridge over the meager Sacramento skyline. “Yeah, sure,” he said helplessly. He had no idea if it was a good idea. He’d just agree to anything this kid said so he could see that manic spark of enthusiasm in his eyes.

“So it’s either that or, you know, an aquarium like the one in Baltimore, with the solid stratified core of marine life, and a tunnel through the center, and a bridge overhead, and maybe a second tower, and a… tunnel bridge, a, you know, a chunnel, connecting them, like England to France, except in water, or we could go to the bottom of the Monterey Bay and build one, except”—Finn’s face fell—“that’s probably not environmentally sound.” He sighed. “It would be cool, though!”

“Oh absolutely,” Adam agreed. The picture of Finn had changed, and now he was proudly displaying a chunnel surrounded by fish on the bottom of the bay, like a water city except better.

Because Finn was there.

And fish.

Oh God.

“So, good burger?” Finn asked, and Adam became aware that he’d been done for a few minutes, and he’d just been sitting there, staring at this irrepressible kid, daydreaming about how he should be drawn.

“Excellent.” Oh man. How long had Adam been there? He didn’t even look at his phone. Judging by how much he wanted to stay, it had been too long. He started gathering the paper and the napkins from his lunch. “I gotta go. I mean, lunch break don’t last forever. I mean, you know, time to go back to work. Don’t want to lose the job on the second day. But thank you for the food—it was real good. I’ll bring that picture by tomorrow.”

“I’ll pay you in food!” Finn said brightly, and Adam shook his head.

“No, no, you already paid me in food
and
company. I’ll just bring you the picture, okay? If I got money, I’ll get something. But I gotta go. Thanks for the company. Gotta go.”

And with that he threw on his coat and backpack and practically raced out the door, dumping his trash in the can on his way out.

He couldn’t bear to look at Finn and daydream about him anymore. Of all people, he knew that cartoons weren’t real.

 

 

D
ARRIN
LET
him go at six thirty that night, which meant he had two eight-hour shifts on his time card, and he felt pretty good about that. He trotted back to the apartment in the stone-cold dark, grateful for the physical exercise and for a breather away from all the people in the store, and from Finn.

Especially away from Finn.

The kid’s company was addictive, pleasant, exciting, and Adam’s body, which had been hanging out in sort of an injured dormancy after Robbie, was starting to wake up and notice.

He got back to the apartment and took Clopper on his second walk for the day, getting used to the big animal’s energy and getting
really
used to telling the big doofus, “Down, boy!”

And whenever his imagination strayed to that wide mobile mouth and the bright blue eyes, he tried to tell himself the same thing.

When he got back to the apartment, he had another PB&J, some milk, and an apple, and sat down at the kitchen table while the television played in the background.

He had two commissions: he needed to make good.

The first one was easy. Ravi and Anish were bright, smiling, ink-and-paper worthy, with only a hint of caricature in their presentation of bags of candy. He thought maybe that would be the sort of picture a good grandmother would want. Not that he had any experience with that.

He’s a bad boy, just like his mother. Rico comes out and says please and thank you. This one hides because he’s afraid.

And thus, eight years in the Army to prove that he was not. God. Grandmothers. So Adam hoped that the picture was good for them. He even added a hint of color in the faces and the brightly colored background of the store, and then cut it carefully off of the art book with an X-Acto knife. Rico had left a box of cereal in the cabinet, so Adam pulled the bag out of the box and folded the cardboard over the picture to keep it safe.

And then he went to work on Finn’s.

The first one, or, well, four, he couldn’t use. He couldn’t bring himself to tear them up either, but he couldn’t use them.

They were too….

Personal.

One featured Finn in the hat, as he appeared sitting next to Adam in the darkened loft, knees drawn to his chest. The other was the Finn he remembered backed up against the pallet in the stock room, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, like he was anticipating a kiss. The third was Finn fist-pumping the air when Adam agreed to come eat, and the last one was Finn, eyes bright over his hamburger, spinning bridges out of air and a future out of a solid faith there was a future to be had.

All of them lingered on things—the crinkles at the corners of his eyes; the fullness of his lips, even when his mouth was wide and smiling; the little bump in the bridge of his nose; or the slight dent that interrupted the even bevel on the bottom of his chin. Things. Inappropriate things.

Finally, as the eleven o’clock news came on and Adam fought not to tear his military-cut hair out by the roots, he ground his teeth and knuckled down and drew what he’d intended to in the first place: Finn looking up from the cutting machine to grin at the Jake cartoon character across the store. It took a while—the store was a place of multi-perspectives and a lot of little details that Adam lavished his time on, since Finn was small enough that he couldn’t spend his time on
Finn
, and when he looked up, it was twelve o’clock, and he was done, and tired….

And he’d forgotten to medicate the fucking cat.

Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit….

“Gonzo…. Gonzo… here, kitty, kitty. Where you hiding from me now, you homicidal little fucker? Gonzo….” Oh God. Under the bed, on top of the closet, behind the toilet—oh, hey, hello,
in the bathtub
, lying still, panting, and not looking good
at all
.

Adam barely had to hold Gonzo down to give him the medicine, and he started to panic. Oh hell. He imagined the text.
Rico, your cat isn’t looking too good. In fact, I think he died in the bathtub. Please don’t hate me, I promise to do better with the dog.

He left the cat in the tub with its water bowl and a bowl of soft food, mushed carefully, and went to bed, hoping for the best.

Rico, I’m sorry, man, I’d take the cat to the vet, but I got no money, and you didn’t leave me your vet’s name, and….

Okay, erase
that
text.

Rico, who’s your vet? The cat isn’t looking fantastic, and I’d like to take him in if he gets any worse.

Okay. Better. Not alarming, but concerned. And not a word about the money, so Adam could write a hot check for the rat bastard cat if he had to, and Rico wouldn’t know that his stupid fucking cat was going to break him. Good. That would work. He could live with that.

Or at least go to sleep with that. It could work.

It was all he had.

Sunset by the River

 

 

A
DAM
WOKE
up in the morning with the cat sleeping by his head. When he stumbled into the bathroom to take a leak, there was a big pile of cat crap in the bottom of the tub. Not the most pleasant way to spend five minutes before his shower, but it wasn’t on the rug, and it wasn’t a cat corpse, so Adam was calling it a win.

He made that a conscious choice for the rest of the day too. Joni ran coupon duty until the deli was open, so he had no accidental-on-purpose run-ins with Finn, and if Adam avoided the deli while he was doing his own duty during lunch rush, well, that was probably an accident.

Probably.

His lunch half hour rolled around and he gave Anish the carefully cardboarded picture to run to Finn when he got Ravi’s lunch. For himself, Adam asked Darrin if he could go out in the back courtyard to eat.

Darrin found him there, shivering, five minutes later, as he swallowed the last of the PB&J and washed it down with more tap water.

“He’s here, Adam, and he brought you fries, so you may want to quit being a chickenshit about it and go say hi.”

Adam tried to smile at him, which should have been easy since he was dressed in a brightly colored shawl-collared Christmas cardigan, with evergreen reindeer running across the horizontal stripe in the middle, but he was pretty sure what came out wasn’t happy. “Oh. Uhm. I, uhm, didn’t think….”

“Didn’t think he’d want your company again after stalking you two days running?”

“He’s not stalking!” Adam defended. “He’s just being nice to the new guy.”

Darrin narrowed his eyes. “Okay, so, new guy, go out and be nice to your new friend.”

If this is what having a real parent was like, Adam could see why Rico moved out of the house as soon as possible. “Darrin, he’s getting a crush on me!” he said after a moment, sounding petulant, even to himself.

“Yes, Adam, and I think the feeling’s mutual. Now go out there and face that little boy like a man.” Darrin plucked his brows with an unmistakable arch, and his very skepticism cowed Adam even more.

“I’m gonna break his heart,” Adam muttered. “He’s barely old enough to be allowed out of the house.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Army. Now go spend your lunch break with somebody who wants to know you better.”

“Oh Jesus,” Adam muttered. “I’m an
employee
! You’ve known me three days.”

Darrin nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. And look at me, falling into the hole in your life where you needed a Darrin. I’m
awesome
!” He spun his hands at the wrists, ending up with a vogue in which he framed his face with elegant fingers. “Now go let Finn fall into the Finn-sized hole in your life. You’ll almost be hole-less.”

Adam glared at him impotently, because there was no comeback to that. Hell, there wasn’t even a
language
for that. “Are you sure you weren’t waiting for someone
else
to come be your winter help?”

Darrin laughed throatily, closing his eyes and tilting his head back so his hair fell behind him. “Oh, Adam. You think you’re only staying for the winter? That’s adorable. Now scoot!”

Adam cast a hunted look over his shoulder, unable to say why Darrin’s sweet smile should be so terrifying. Then he went to face the music.

Finn was waiting out in front of the store, arms crossed, a takeout bag dangling from his hand.

“Uhm, hey, Finn. I, uhm, didn’t you like the picture?”

“The picture was fine, you coward. A little impersonal, but fine. Do you not do close-ups?”

At that moment Anish walked in from coupon duty. “Oh no! He does wonderful close-ups! You should see the one he did for our grandmother. I cannot wait to put it in a frame. She’ll think we actually
thought
about her present for once!”

Finn glared at him, and Adam wished he’d stopped to put his coat on.

“None of your close-ups came out,” he mumbled. “I can try again tonight.”

“Have you eaten?” Finn demanded.

Adam thrust his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t take the fries. “Uhm, you know. The usual.”

“I was there when you bought the groceries. Now here, take the fries and walk with me, okay?”

Adam didn’t know how to fight that. Not without being rude, and Finn didn’t deserve that. He squared his shoulders and enjoyed the warmth of the fries through the takeout container, and hoped his hooded sweatshirt would do him in the chill off the river.

Which was exactly where Finn was taking him. Across the cobblestone street, past the restrooms, and over the landmark bridge. The wind coming off the river cut through the bone in the winter afternoon, and Adam shivered, but he kept following Finn over the bridge. Riverfront Park was essentially a nice little walking path in a corner of green overlooking the river. Finn headed toward the wrought iron fence that bordered the drop-off, and Adam kept up, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

Finn heard him, though, and made a sound of exasperation. “I would have waited while you went and got your coat!” As he spoke, he busied himself with the button at the chin strap of his fleece hat, and before Adam could protest, the hat was over his ears, warm and cozy and smelling of Finn.

“Thanks.”

“Oh my God, was that so hard to say?” Finn demanded, unwrapping his Doctor Who scarf from around his neck and winding it laboriously around Adam’s when he was done.

“You didn’t have to,” Adam said, his voice dropping miserably.

Finn’s angry motions stopped, and the air around them stilled. Behind Finn, the sun was setting over the river, and Adam could either squint into it or peer into the quiet shadows of Finn’s face. He chose Finn, and they stared at each other for a heartbeat while Adam tried not to notice the quivering of Finn’s lower lip.

“I just want to get to know you. Is that so bad?” Finn asked, his voice a raspy whisper, not quite too quiet to be heard amid the traffic over the bridge and the day-to-day sounds on the boardwalk.

“I’m not really used to….” Anything.

“I know, Adam. I get it. I mean, two minutes with you and I got it. You… whatever is going on in here”—Finn waved his hand in the direction of Adam’s chest—“it’s dark and sort of sad and hard for you to get over.”

“I’m not some charity case,” Adam muttered, hating the gentleness, hating the compassion.

“I’m not giving charity,” Finn snapped, shaking his head.

“Well I don’t see what you get out of it!” And that, that right there, was Adam’s entire problem with the past three days. A job out of nowhere, a friend—a sweet, sexy one at that—literally landing in his lap and delivering him hamburgers. What did these people get out of it? What was there to be gained by giving Adam Macias a break? It certainly hadn’t benefitted anybody before, had it? He and Rico had history—a long one—of Rico helping Adam behind everybody’s back and Adam being exhaustingly grateful.

BOOK: Candy Man
4.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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