TAKE ME HOME (29 page)

The obit was brief. It mentioned Joe’s brave service in the war and listed the names of those he was survived by, including his parents, his brother, and…his young son, Victor Morrison, who, according to the paper, resided in San Francisco with his mother at the time of his father’s death.

Victor Morrison.

He had a son. A child he’d named after Kyle’s grandpa.

It had been love. For both men.

Kyle ran another search and found the phone numbers for four Victor Morrisons in California but none in San Francisco. He expanded the search and found more scattered throughout the US. Best to start with the one closest to where the obituary indicated they had lived. He dialed the number and left the same message he had for the children of Paskowski, only this time, the words felt oddly more personal for him.

The door to his room swung in and slammed against the wall with a bang that had him flinching. Lorrie was standing there, her arms folded across her chest. She looked pissed off and disappointed at the same time. “What the hell happened?” Kyle set aside his phone and closed his laptop lid. He did not want her to see what he’d been looking at. “What do you mean what happened?”

“I saw the two of you. Something is messed up.”

He and Evan had barely talked on the train ride from Chicago to Toledo or in the cab to Liberty Falls. Evan had stared out the window next to him, his closed notebook on his lap, while Kyle had reread various parts of the journal.

The final pages were emotional. Entries about how it had felt for his grandpa to be home after two years, to see his parents and the farm, to have validation about the future he wanted.

There were mentions about life and love and how hard it was to know something was right but to know it wasn’t right at the same time. Kyle had felt the desperation in his grandfather’s words, the despair in having to make a choice. If his grandpa had been with Joe in today’s world—and not during a time when just being in a known gay bar could get you arrested, or worse—maybe he would’ve asked Joe to live with him, run the farm together, maybe they would’ve had a Take Me Home

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future. But then Kyle wouldn’t have been born. Neither would Lorrie or her kids. It was the kind of thing better left unexamined.

As he and Evan had driven past the welcome sign for Liberty Falls, he’d closed the journal, the sadness of his grandpa’s past and the uncertainty of his own future smothering him in the backseat of the cab. Evan had looked at him but hadn’t said anything. He’d turned away again, and Kyle had closed his eyes and listened to the tires rolling over the wet surface of the road, the spray of salt kicking up and smacking into the sides of the cab as they made their way through the remnants of the snowstorm.

When the cab had dropped them off, they’d stood at the curb of Kyle’s old home with his family and Evan’s mom, all talking excitedly, asking about the weather and the stranded train, passing out hugs until the cold forced them indoors. Evan had crossed the street with his mom without a look back, and Kyle had gone inside with his parents, Lorrie, and her kids.

“I fucked up, all right?”

“I figured,” she said.

“Gee, thanks.”

She took a seat on the edge of his bed. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m guessing that’s the problem.”

“Hardly. We did exactly what you thought we’d do. We fucked all the way here.” Her eyes widened, and then she laughed. The sound of it pissed him off. “That’s not the only thing I thought you’d do.”

He stood and grabbed the backpack with the journal inside. He wasn’t taking his eyes off it. He headed for the door. She beat him to it and stepped in his way.

“I’m not talking about this,” he said. “We have to head over. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

She gave him a long stare.

He went for a distraction. “Where’s your husband?”

“He’s helping a friend.”

“On Christmas Eve.” With his kids so damn excited about the holiday and presents and candy and Santa Claus. “Nice.”

Lorrie took a step back and gave him a more pissed-off look. “For your information, Brett’s friend who was laid off the same day he was just got a job. He has to drive his own rig, but it wasn’t running, so Brett offered to help. They have until the day after Christmas to get it fixed, or his friend is going to lose the job. Maybe out in Hollywood, everyone has a good paying job, but it’s not like that here. Not this year.” Her voice had risen, and she’d stepped closer into his space as she talked. She never spoke to him like that.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize.”

“You don’t live here, Kyle, so try not to judge what you aren’t around to see.” He didn’t bother to tell her she’d been doing the same thing to him. Only she was usually right about his life. He pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. “I won’t. I’m sorry.”

“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, trying to get the conversation off you and Evan. You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

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He laughed, her words easing some of the tension in his chest. “Fine, but we need to get to the party.”

After a long stare, Lorrie finally let him pass. He knew the truth, though. The discussion wasn’t over. She just wasn’t mean enough to deny Christmas Eve to her waiting kids.

The doorbell rang downstairs.

“He made it!” Lorrie did a little hop and took off for the staircase.

Kyle followed her but paused halfway down the stairs as Lorrie went to open the door in the entranceway below.

Brett stepped inside, a huge smile plastered on his face as he held out his arms for Lorrie.

With a matching grin, looking so happy to see him, she fell into her husband’s arms, and he held her tightly in his.

“Did you get it fixed?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s all set.”

“Oh good.” She hugged him again. “I’m glad you made it for the party.”

“Me too, Daddy.” Their daughter ran into the room, followed by her brother and Kyle’s parents, everyone dressed in the green and red knitted Christmas sweaters, smiles all around.

It was nice to see his parents happy. Not their usual troubled expressions whenever he did a video chat with either of them during the year. They liked it best when everyone was home together for the holidays, not when he was two thousand miles away.

Maybe it wasn’t only for himself he needed to consider moving home.

Was that still what he wanted?

No, Evan needed to be in LA.

Kyle would just have to learn to write there or find another career. Unless Evan decided he really didn’t trust him and that his heart was safer without the risk.

They needed to talk again. Which was funny, since he’d been trying to avoid this exact thing his entire life. In the past six days, he’d thought and talked more about his feelings, about relationships and love than he imagined possible for a lifetime. And here he was, needing to say more. He just wished he knew what the hell he was supposed to say.

He joined his family downstairs, and the group headed out. They crossed the street, but Kyle stopped at the edge of his parents’ driveway.

Evan’s childhood home. It looked the same as it always did. Decked out in red and green exterior Christmas lights, plastic reindeer on the lawn, and a giant Santa riding in his equally plastic sleigh. Gloria Walker loved the holiday as much as her son. Every year, she made plates of cookies to trade with Kyle’s father for help putting up the decorations.

That first year after Kyle’s family had moved to town, she and Evan had invited them for Christmas Eve dinner. Since then, it had become a tradition.

Gloria had once dreamed of a big family, but when her husband had run off while she was still pregnant with Evan, life had thrown her a curveball. A single mother who’d never had a job, who didn’t want to lose her home and wanted to give her son every opportunity, she had given up her dreams of a house full of kids and focused on work and her only child. He saw how much Christmas with Evan and Kyle’s family, especially Lorrie’s kids, meant to her.

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If Evan didn’t have kids, she’d never be a grandmother. Kyle had never given that a thought until now. He imagined she longed for the day Evan would bring his own family home for Christmas.

And Evan wanted the same thing.

Shit. Could he do this? He’d been saying it for days now, but as he stood there face-to-face with the reality of what a future with Evan would be like, he had to ask the question, had to make sure. Evan deserved that.

It didn’t take him long to settle on the truth. With Evan, it was all or nothing.

Kyle wanted it all.

He crossed the street and went inside. Gloria had a hold of him before he had a chance to shut the door behind him. She was always so excited to see him, and this year her hug lasted longer than usual. She pulled back and took his face in her hands. She had the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Evan. Although her eyes were more the color of the sky before a storm, not clear and bright like Evan’s.

“What’s wrong with my boy?” she asked. “I thought you said he was doing better.”

“He is. He was.”

Her eyes widened, and he hated that panicked look.

“He’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”

She stepped back and studied Kyle with a long stare. She must have liked what she saw. A slow smile emerged. “I think maybe he will be. Finally.”

“Yeah.” Had everyone been waiting for them to get together?

She slipped her arm in his and walked with him to the living room, where his family was already admiring the eight-foot decorated tree, frosted snowman sugar cookies, and hot cocoa in candy-cane-colored mugs.

Evan was sitting in a chair by the fire, sipping from a red and white mug, watching the kids look over the wrapped gifts. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn’t the dimple-flashing one Kyle had grown addicted to. The scrape above his eye had a bandage covering it. No doubt Gloria had smothered it in antibacterial cream. Always the overprotective mother. She didn’t need to worry. Evan could take care of himself. No matter what Evan had said on the train, Kyle never doubted that.

Evan leaned back in the chair. He had his leg propped up on another chair.

Kyle went to him. “I thought your ankle was feeling better.” Okay, maybe Gloria wasn’t the only one with the instinct to overprotect. And in the process, he’d made Evan feel weak.

Wasn’t that what he was trying to tell him on the train?

“It’s fine.”

“Does it hurt?”

Evan lifted his head and met Kyle’s stare. “Yeah, it hurts.” Now, that wasn’t about the ankle.

Kyle sat on the stone ledge in front of the fireplace, picked up the metal poker, and stoked the fire, watching the flames come to life. Things had to be okay between them. He needed to have Evan in his life. No matter what. “I’m sorry for how I acted when I saw the messages on your phone.”

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“If I’m supposed to trust you, then—”

“Oh, I see. Is it always going to be like this?”

“Like what?” Evan asked.

“You worrying I’m leaving every time I walk out the door? I don’t know what else I can do. What else I can say.” Yeah, he did. He could tell Evan the truth. Repeat those words he’d whispered in the cabin before he’d realized Evan had fallen asleep. “Ev—” The doorbell rang.

“That’s Dennis,” Evan said.

Perfect timing, Dickhead.

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Dennis stepped through the living room archway, looking larger and more threatening than ever. Although, the threatening part had nothing to do with his size.

Kyle wasn’t sure why he was mentally referring to Dickhead as Dennis again, but it probably had to do with subconsciously accepting Dennis might be back in their lives for good.

No matter what happened between them, Evan was just the kind of guy who’d stay friends with his ex.

Gloria drew Dennis down for a hug, and Kyle’s parents stepped forward to greet him the same way. All sported smiles to see the one person they thought wouldn’t be there that year, or ever again. Although, there was also disappointment mixed in with the smiles. Maybe everyone had been waiting for Kyle to get a clue, and they thought this year was finally when they’d get the news they’d be waiting ten years to hear.

Dennis passed out hugs and set down an overnight bag.

Dickhead.

Okay, maybe Kyle wasn’t done with the nickname yet. Because that was a very dickhead thing to do, acting like nothing had changed. Like he and Evan hadn’t come to Ohio at different times and via different modes of transportation. Evan stood and crossed the room. Dennis met him halfway and gave him a hug. A simple platonic hug, the same as he’d given everyone, and Kyle wanted to rip Dennis’s arms off.

This jealousy shit had to go.

Or maybe not. Maybe it was justified.

Dennis was watching Kyle over Evan’s shoulder, and the pointed stare said a lot.

He knows.

Or he suspected something. Or maybe Kyle was seeing things. Maybe Dennis wanted Kyle’s help getting Evan back.

Fuck that.

He clutched the fireplace poker in his fist. When he realized what he was doing, he set it on the stone ledge. He was pretty sure shoving an iron poker up someone’s ass was not the best way to say “Merry Christmas.”

Two hours later, after they’d stuffed themselves on turkey and all the fixings of Gloria’s traditional Christmas dinner until no one could move from the table, Dennis leaned over to Evan and whispered something. Evan laughed, and his eyes lit up. That look was so like the ones on Evan’s face in the cabin, in the shower, in their shared bed on the train.

Kyle stood. He couldn’t take another second of Evan pretending nothing had happened between them. Although what was he expecting? For Evan to stand up and announce to everyone he’d licked, sucked, and fucked Kyle all the way from California to Ohio? No, but he could’ve at 158

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least told his mom they were together. What? Like Kyle had told his? He piled dirty plates on his until he had a stack that would make his hasty exit look less like he was the biggest asshole around. He carried the plates to the kitchen and heard footsteps behind him.