The Coil (28 page)

“And why wouldn’t it be?” She pulled out several slices of bread onto the chopping board and opened the drawer that held the knives, forks, and spoons. She knew her way around the kitchen as if she lived there herself.

“I….” He sighed and threw the dishtowel he’d snagged up and been twisting between his hands down on the counter. “I’m being stupid.”

“Yes. Sorry, but yes.”

“I don’t know why I’m being like this.”

“Well….” Sarah turned and offered him a sympathetic smile. “Your family is a group of three again. You’re, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You’re rebuilding a relationship and introducing someone else into Jamie’s home life. I can understand why you might feel uneasy.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “‘Uneasy’ is one way of putting it.”

“Just… remember that these kids pick up on other people’s moods all too easily. If you’re tense, chances are Jamie’s going to feel tense too.”

His shoulders slumped. “You’re right.”

“Okay, look at me. Take a deep breath in….” She took a deep breath and then let it out with a laugh when Simon glared at her. “Jamie’s going to have a great time, and so are you. So relax!”

“All right!” He laughed. “I’m relaxing.”

“Good. Now why don’t you carry on with these while I go introduce myself to your mom and say hi to Jamie?”

“They can wait a few minutes; I’ll introduce you. Then I have to go get Jamie into his party clothes.”

“Party clothes?”

Simon smiled. “I got him these little khaki pants and a sweater vest with a picture of a train on it. He’ll love it.”

“If you say so,” she laughed.

“Okay, so I’ll at least
force
him to love it long enough for me to take a picture. Then he’ll probably be back in his favorite PJ’s.”

“That does sound more likely.”

“Smartass,” he sighed. “All right, come meet my mom.”

H
E
HAD
no idea what he was looking for. Just what did five-year-old kids like these days, anyway? In a bid to distract himself from thoughts about tests, art school, and money, he’d taken himself off to the mall to search for a great birthday gift for Jamie. Now, Mattie found himself not only stressed about his transcripts and finishing up a portfolio and entrance essay he wasn’t even sure he was going to submit, but about what kind of an impression a teddy bear or train set would make to a five-year-old.

He mentally shook himself. It was done now, and there was no point in getting worked up about it. He’d taken the tests, done his absolute best. Now all he could do was sit back and wait a minimum of four weeks for his results.

He mulled over what a long journey it’d been for him: nearly two years of adult reading and writing classes, three or four months of hard-core studying, and five long-winded tests that could make all the difference to his future.

And here he was, close to having the qualifications that, at the very least, could enable him to get a better-paying job, if not start him off on the path to his original goal: art school. Not to mention the shopping for a birthday gift for his boyfriend’s son.

At the thought of meeting Jamie again in a capacity as more than the guy from the diner, but as someone important in his dad’s life, he had to stave off the nerves that wanted to overwhelm him. He thought that he was fairly likeable, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t met the kid before, but he was also so desperate for Jamie to like him. If Jamie didn’t, then his relationship with Simon didn’t stand much of a chance.

He stopped in place when he caught sight of what might just be the perfect gift; not too much but something Jamie might genuinely like. It was a set of special edition
Lord of the Rings
top trump cards. Surprised that toy stores would even still stock
Lord of The Rings
merchandise, he picked them up—not even bothering to look at the price because they were absolutely the perfect gift—and made his way over to one of the cash registers.

Now it was only a question of having the balls to wrap them up, slap a bow on there, and deliver them. There was the true dilemma: give them to Simon tomorrow, or nip over there during the party—just for a few minutes, mind you—to give them to Jamie himself.

At first he’d attempted to kid himself into thinking he’d been invited, that his offering to be there for moral support had been taken seriously. But honestly? He couldn’t say for sure if it had. Simon had laughed it off, too wrapped up in his worry about how the party would go to consider his suggestion for what it was.

What he couldn’t decide on, and what was making him hesitate about just showing up like any other boyfriend would, was whether—invite or no—his appearance would be a happy surprise for Simon. It could play out one of two ways: Simon would become awkward and overly polite but ultimately be unhappy at his presence, or Simon would be relieved.

Heading home with the small bag looped over his wrist, hands tucked in his pockets and head down against the wind, he couldn’t help but smile a little wistfully at what it might be like to evoke that look of pleased relief. To feel welcomed into the home of someone you were very significant to.

There was the issue of Simon’s mother being there, his friend Sarah and the parents of the other kids, not to mention Jamie, but Simon had made some serious progress with his mother, or so he’d told him. He’d felt proud of Simon for being willing to begin to forgive his mother while maintaining his stance of a proud gay man. If he were in Simon’s shoes, he didn’t know if he could be so brave. The sometimes disapproving looks from anyone who might overhear conversation that included any homosexual activity—hand holding included—was enough to make him want to shrivel up.

Not Simon. He wouldn’t hide who he was after already coming so far. It was merely a matter of judging whether it was too soon to include himself into that mix. Mattie thought perhaps with his mother meeting Jamie—officially—for the first time, that it may be too soon to introduce the boyfriend on the same day. A shame, really, because things were so good between them at the moment.
Really
good. Every instant Simon wasn’t with Jamie or writing, they were together. Like a real, devoted couple.

Surely five minutes wouldn’t hurt? He could nip in, drop off the gift, and let Simon know he was thinking of him. He wouldn’t ask to meet his friends, his mother, or Jamie. He’d just let Simon know that he was in his thoughts and that he loved him. Just without the actual words.

Five minutes.

“
W
OULD
you calm down already?”

Simon leaned against the kitchen counter, craning his neck to see through to the living room where the kids all crowded around the coffee table, scribbling away on the several coloring books he’d bought that morning.

“It’s going fine, Simon,” Sarah said in a hushed voice so his guests seated in the next room wouldn’t hear. “They’re actually having fun.”

He watched as his mother carefully crouched down on the floor beside Jamie to ask him about his drawing. Jamie wouldn’t look at her, but he saw his lips move in answer. It was good to see. It was heartwarming to see Jamie having such a nice time, and to see his mother so happy to boot. He had to admit, it
was
going fine, and he felt foolish for worrying so much.

“Can you give me a hand?” Sarah asked.

“Sure. Here….” He took the coffeepot from her hand. “Let me do that.”

“Great. You do the adults, and I’ll see to the kids. Did you get ice cream?”

He nodded. “Chocolate and vanilla. Oh, and some sprinkles in the cupboard.” He stopped short. “I don’t know which flavors they all like.”

“I teach those kids, remember? Three vanillas and two chocolate.”

“Thank God you’re here.”

“You, Simon Castle, are a drama queen.”

He paused in pouring his coffee. “Did you seriously just call me a queen?”

Sarah grinned and opened her mouth to answer, but a happy squeal followed by the giggling of young children caused them both to glance to the living room and laugh quietly.

“Queen or not, your son is having a great time.”

“He is,” he agreed. “And he looks abso-friggin-lutely adorable.”

“Oh my God, Simon.” She swooned, licking the ice cream from her thumb. “I just want to eat him up in his little sweater vest. I can’t believe he’s actually kept it on.”

“He even stood still and let me take pictures.”

“He’s a good little man.”

“I only wish he’d have left the cape in his room.”

“Baby steps.”

He glanced at her fondly. “You sound like a mother. You know that?”

She placed the ice cream bowls on a tray and smiled sadly. “I’d kind of like to be, one day.”

“You will be, and you’ll be the best mom ever.”

“Thanks, Simon.” She sighed and put her hands on her hips as she glanced around the kitchen. “Where did you say those sprinkles were?”

Simon pulled the milk out of the fridge and tried to remember who had wanted their coffee black, and who wanted white. “In the cupboard, next to the tomato soup.”

“Ah, I know where.”

Simon watched her as she moved around his kitchen with ease, as if she knew it as well as her own. “Anyone who didn’t know the dynamics of our relationship would think you were my wife. I swear it.”

She snorted in quite an unladylike fashion and set the sprinkles on the tray. “Well, they’d be sorely disappointed.”

He hummed in agreement. “Like my mom.”

“What? Your mom’s been great.”

He smiled sadly and shook his head. It saddened him to see the glimmer of hope in his mother’s eyes when watching him with Sarah. Not to mention that the hastily dodged questions about Jamie’s mother from his guests had set his teeth on edge. “You didn’t see the way she watched you in this kitchen.”

“She’s probably just not used to seeing you so familiar with a woman.”

“No, she’s definitely not, and she’s not alone. Did you see how Tommy’s mother was—?”

“Simon,” she interrupted. “You’re not happy if you’re not worrying about something, are you?”

He sputtered, offended. “I admit I’m tightly wound at the moment, but I think that’s a little unfair.”

“Then for the tenth time,
relax
. Everything’s going great. Jamie’s having fun, the other kids are having fun, your other guests are
not
watching your every homosexual move despite what you think, and your mom knows you’re gay. Gay as a goose.”

He sighed. “I think I need a Valium.”

“You don’t take Valium.”

“I think I need to start taking Valium.”

She slapped his forearm and then picked up the tray of ice cream. “I’m taking this in before it melts. Hurry up with that coffee.”

“I’ll be right in.” There was a knock at the front door. “As soon as I’ve answered that.”

“All right.”

He watched her leave the kitchen and smiled at the delighted response from the kids when asked who wanted ice cream. He walked through to the hallway, opened the door, and was more than a little surprised to see Mattie standing there.

Mattie offered him a delighted smile. A smile Simon couldn’t seem to offer in return.

“Hey.” Mattie spoke quietly, stepping through the door and giving him a quick hug. “I hope I didn’t interrupt the party?”

He barely returned the hug as panic began to prickle along his spine. “Mattie. W-what are you doing here?”

Mattie reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped gift. “I got this for Jamie. I was just going to drop it off—”

“You can’t!” Simon hissed.

Mattie’s smile faded. “What? I wasn’t—” He wet his lips quickly. “I wasn’t going to stay or nothing. I just wanted to give you Jamie’s gift so he could have it on his birthday.”

Simon shot a quick look over his shoulder and then more or less snatched the gift from Mattie’s hand. “That’s very sweet of you, Mattie, but you have to get going.”

Mattie still held his hand out from where Simon had hastily taken the gift, and slowly lowered it as he looked at Simon with confusion. “Um, okay. Is everything all right?”

Simon sighed and took hold of Mattie’s upper arm to gently encourage him toward the door. “I’m fine, everything’s fine. You just… you can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.”

Mattie pulled his arm out of Simon’s grip, feeling hurt. “Why are you being like this? All I was trying to do—”

“Oh, for the love of—” Simon cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s inappropriate that you’re here.”

“
Why?
” Mattie hissed, feeling pissed but alarmingly close to upset at the same time.

“Because this is my son’s birthday party!” Simon hissed back. “My mother is here. I have guests. You can’t just invite yourself—”

“Simon? You’re guests are getting thirst—oh.”

Simon’s mother paused in the hallway behind them, and he could gauge her expression perfectly. Surprise turned quickly to schooled discomfort. How close they stood together, along with the undeniable tension between them, were fairly obvious indicators as to what the nature of their relationship might be. Simon swallowed hard, upset at the thought that everything he and his mother had worked at was about to go up in smoke, and that Jamie was about to lose his new grandmother. He wanted to mesh these two worlds together—his past and present—but not yet. It had to be done delicately. He could see the question forming on her lips, and panicked.

“Who—”

“He’s nobody,” he blurted, regretting the words instantly. He shook his head, shocked at himself. “I
—
I mean to say, um….”

His mother frowned, stepped forward. “Simon—” An unhappy wail from the living room made them both jump, and with a last worried glance at Simon, she turned and left the hallway.

Simon looked back at Mattie and felt his heart sink. The only word to describe that look was “betrayed.” “I
—
I’m sorry. It just came out. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“No, of course you didn’t.” Mattie bit his bottom lip and then shook his head. He put his hands in his pockets, stepped backward. “I’m so stupid.” He swallowed, then nodded to himself. “Okay, I—I think I’m done,” he whispered.