The Ghost Wore Yellow Socks (26 page)
He glanced at Perry, and Perry was so still he didn’t appear to be breathing. Nick said,
“They want to see you, but they’ll respect your wishes if you don’t want to see them.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to see them?” Perry said faintly.
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“I think they feel pretty bad about some of the things they said. Anyway, they’re staying here in the village if you feel like calling them.” Nick laid a slip of paper on Perry’s tray.
“Yeah, I want to see them,” Perry said, and his eyes got very bright and his voice got husky. He cleared it. “Are you --”
And at the same time Nick said, “I should be going.”
“Oh, right.” Perry looked very tired. He smiled at Nick and said, “Will I…will you stop in to say good-bye?”
“That’s pretty much what this is,” Nick said firmly.
Perry looked more tired than ever, but he still managed something like a smile. “Right.
Well, thanks. I mean, thanks isn’t much…”
Nick covered his mouth with a quick hard kiss. Perry kissed him back hard and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Nick and say a lot of things that would guarantee Nick didn’t look him up when he came back for the trial.
“Take care of yourself, kid,” Nick said gruffly, and he was gone -- out the door and down the corridor before Perry opened his eyes.
* * * * *
Nick knew he had done the right thing by contacting them. No way did he want the kid left on his own for Christmas, and as for himself…well, a clean break was the best thing for both of them. He was ten years older and a lifetime harder than Perry, and frankly he didn’t want to queer the deal -- literally -- in Los Angeles by showing up with his gay lover.
He didn’t know how far Roscoe’s tolerance stretched -- he didn’t know anything about the partners -- and he couldn’t afford to blow this chance.
Maybe if Perry had…kicked a little, tried to talk him out of it, showed a little backbone…because the kid did have guts and he was stubborn, and if he wasn’t fighting, then maybe he knew Nick was right.
Nick knew he was right. He was just surprised at how hard it was. But that was mostly the season. It was easy to feel lonely around the holidays, and he actually preferred being lonely on his own to being lonely with Marie.
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All the same, if he heard “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” one more time, he was going to shoot someone.
He was packing the last few odds and ends on Christmas Eve when someone knocked on his door.
He opened the door, and Perry stood there. He was wearing a new leather jacket over his shoulders -- beneath the jacket, his arm was in a cast. He looked very thin and too pale --
and there was something about his expression…
He looked older.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, and awkwardly, one-handed Nick a square box.
Nick took the box without glancing at it. “What are you doing here? Are you supposed to be out of the hospital? Your folks came to see you, right?” Sudden anxiety gripped him at the thought of Perry let down yet again.
Perry nodded. “Yeah. Can I come in?”
Nick fell back automatically, and Perry came inside saying, “They’ve been here all week. They came to see me every day -- unlike you.”
Nick had bent to set the wrapped package on the floor, but at that he straightened. “We said good-bye,” he said. There was absolutely no reason to feel guilty, but somehow the words got away from him. “Anyway, I thought you’d be on your way home.”
“This is my home,” Perry said. “Or did you change your mind about letting me stay here after you leave?”
And now Nick’s anxiety bloomed into genuine worry. “Why would you need to stay here? Everything’s fine with your folks, isn’t it?”
“Sure.”
Nick couldn’t quite read him. “So…where are they?”
“On their way back to Rutland.”
“Why aren’t you with them?”
Perry stared at him. “Why would I be? I’m an adult and I have my own life. You know, the one you don’t want any part of.”
Color flooded Nick’s face. “Hey…”
Perry’s control slipped for a moment, and he said bitterly, “I’m not a puppy, Nick. You don’t need to give me away to a good home when you move away.”
“Now look,” Nick said warningly. He wasn’t angry, though, despite the hard pounding of his heart and the flush suffusing his body. All that adrenaline and no place to go…
“It’s okay,” Perry said. “You’ve been very clear about it from the start. It’s my own fault if I kept hoping that maybe you cared a little more than you said you did.”
“I never said I didn’t care.”
“You never said anything at all.”
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“Neither did you.”
“I love you,” Perry said. “But you already know that. Except you don’t think I’m old enough to know what love is.”
Nick snapped, “I never said that.”
“Like I said, you never said anything.”
“Okay, well for the record, I do care. I…care. But…” Nick swallowed hard.
“But what?” Perry asked. “Oh yeah. You’re going to California and it’s expensive.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it!”
Perry didn’t say anything, and newly awkward with him, Nick said, “Well, it’s your place now. Sit down.”
But Perry didn’t sit. He went to the window and stared out. Nick looked from his stiff back and squared shoulders to the brightly wrapped Christmas present and said, “Should I open this now?”
“If you want. It’s not really your kind of thing,” Perry said. “It’s a snow globe. You know, a big old house and lots of Vermont snow. I thought it might remind you of me.”
“I don’t need a snow globe to remind me of you,” Nick said, which was probably the most romantic thing he had ever heard himself say. It made him blush.
Perry seemed unimpressed, though. He turned away from the window to face Nick. “So when are you leaving?”
Nick hesitated. Was he still going? Suddenly he wasn’t so sure. He said, “Tomorrow morning. I’m staying overnight in town.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“With a broken arm?”
“Okay, you drive me.”
“I sold my truck,” Nick said. “Teagle is going to drive me.”
Perry nodded thoughtfully. “How about this? We can spend tonight together, and you can get a taxi in the morning.”
And Nick suddenly recognized what that unfamiliar emotion was rushing through him -- the warmth and excitement and anticipation. Happiness.
He said, “How about this? Why don’t I call and postpone my flight. Is it going to take you more than a week to pack?” He fastened his hand on Perry’s shoulder and drew him forward.
Perry’s mouth quirked. He seemed to consider it, eyelashes downcast. Then he looked up, and the expression in his eyes made Nick’s breath catch. “What happens if it does?”
Against his will, Nick’s mouth was curving into a smile. He had the uncomfortable feeling that was going to be happening a lot. He said, “I wait another week.”
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Perry smiled that slow, engaging grin. “Okay.”
Their lips met, slow and sweet -- they were getting better at this part too -- and Christmas and homecoming coalesced into something unexpectedly hot and hungry.
When they broke for air at last, Nick said, “Goddamn it, Foster. I had this all worked out.”
“Yeah, sorry.” Perry leaned back in, and his mouth smiled against Nick’s.
“What?” Nick asked suspiciously.
Perry said, “Oh, you know. Let the journey begin.”
Josh Lanyon
Josh Lanyon is the author of four Adrien English mystery novels. THE HELL YOU SAY
was nominated for a Lambda Literary Award and is the winner of the 2006 USABookNews awards for GLBT fiction. Josh lives in Los Angeles, California, and is currently at work on his next book.
