The Telling (16 page)

“So you snooped in his room,” Michel finished for her, mopping up the coffee mess with a dish towel. Again his eyes shot to the
bedroom, his heart racing as sunlight reflecting off a passing car flashed across the door, creating the illusion of opening.

“Hey, that’s not fair! I wasn’t snooping,” Angie argued, “I was just borrowing socks!”

Michael snorted his disbelief. “What happened then?” He briefly debated tying her to a chair and interrogating her like he’d
seen in bad spy movies, bright lights and all, alternated with images of launching her physically from his apartment in a giant catapult.

“I found what had happened to the picture. It was lying there in his sock drawer.”

“He buried it in his sock drawer, which means he likes me, why?”
Please make your point and go, please just go.

“Michael, Michael, Michael,” Angie said dramatically, placing her small, freckled hand on his arm and talking slowly, as though
explaining to a child. “The picture looked liked it had been handled a lot. The edges were all ragged. And he framed it.”

“Oh.”
He framed it?

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ He used to ask a lot of questions about you, but I figured it was curiosity, or maybe missing his own family. He
has about a bazillion siblings.”

“Six.”

“What?”

“He has six sisters, he told me.”
He also told me their names and ages, and if they’re anything like you, God help him.

“Telling you about his family now, huh?” She waggled her brows. “Well, anyway, like I said, he kept asking questions about
you. Then when he found out you were coming home he got really nervous about meeting you. I’ve known the man for four years now. Trust me, he
doesn’t do nervous, but he fretted for weeks. He even got a haircut the day before you came home.” She leaned in and whispered,
“That’s why I asked him to drive you over here, so y’all could get to know each other.”

“Why you…” Michael began, knowing he really should be grateful for her meddling. Look where it got him. He recalled
something that had been bugging him. “Angie, how come you never mentioned Jay was gay before?”

“Huh?”

“In your letters and emails you always mentioned your friend Jay, but I thought he was your boyfriend.”

“I didn’t?” she asked, eyes skittering to the side. He recognized guilt when he saw it, but remained silent. “You
know the number one rule, right? Never out anybody. I didn’t think you’d care, anyway.” Her scarlet blushing belied her
words.

Okay, enough was enough. “Out with it, Angie.” Michael all but yelled her name, hoping that if Jay was awake he’d hear and
know it wasn’t safe to come out.

“I was kind of hoping that you’d meet and like each other, so I didn’t want to say too much about him. There was no telling
what four years in the military might have done to my loving, tolerant brother.”

“And Mom? Seems she would have mentioned it.” The light bulb suddenly came on. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this some
kind of conspiracy?”

Given her slow, plodding storytelling up until now, Angie’s reply came too quickly to be the complete truth. “I can’t speak
for Mom, but he asked me lots of questions about you, and I knew he had the picture.” Angie stared pointedly at her coffee cup, avoiding
Michael’s accusing glare. “I figured eventually he’d move on to someone he actually knew, or that y’all would
finally meet and be friends.”

Oh shit, maybe it would be better if Jay wasn’t listening in.

This was just too surreal. His mom was a co-conspirator. It figured. Neither woman would deliberately hurt anyone, but he worried what effects their
meddling, as well intentioned as it might be, could have on Jay. The need to defend his lover momentarily outweighed the fear of Angie discovering his
secret. “Do you really think that was fair to him?”

Angie sighed and shook her head, no longer smiling. “I know, I know. It was wrong for me to encourage his little crush, knowing you’re
straight. But you should have seen him, how excited he was that he’d finally get to meet you. He’s a good guy. I really want both of
you to be happy. I’m sorry if I meddled, I just got carried away, I guess.”

“So what’s got you so concerned now that you had to come over here on a Sunday and talk to me?”
Yeah, why don’t you leave and come back on Monday…

“Well, I know you like him… as a friend,” she clarified. “I just thought I should warn you that his feelings for
you might be deeper than that. I know you’re not a homophobe and wouldn’t hurt him physically, but I worry about you hurting him
emotionally. I wanted to talk to you before we go for Sunday dinner with the grandparents, ‘cause I know they invited Jay again, so
he’ll probably be there.”

Michael stood and busied himself by pouring another cup of coffee.

“Could I get a reheat?” Angie asked, extending her cup. If he gave her more coffee she’d stay to drink it, but he
couldn’t think of a way to refuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. After topping off her cup and replacing the pot on the warmer, he
washed his hands and resumed preparing breakfast, needing to burn off the nervous tension before he snapped like an over-wound rubber band.

“Damn, boy, reckon you chopped enough onions and peppers?” she asked, appearing at his elbow to stare into the half-filled bowl.

Michael jumped to suddenly find her so close, searching for a convincing lie. “I’m making meatloaf later.”

She reminded him, “We’re eating at Grandma and Grandpa’s.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a convincing lie. “I meant tomorrow,” he improvised. Damn. Did that sound as lame to Angie as it
did to him? And wasn’t she ready to leave yet?

“So?”

“So what?” He had to hand it to her, when she set her mind to something, she was nearly impossible to distract.

“Will you please be careful with Jay and try not to hurt him?”

“What makes you think I’d hurt him?” He turned his back, shielding himself from her prying eyes to blush in private.

“If he thought you were receptive he might take that as encouragement and pursue you. Don’t get me wrong, he’d never go where
he wasn’t welcome, and pardon my saying so, but you were sending out some mixed signals at the party the other night.”

Oh my God. So she’d been paying attention after all. Michael forced down panic, wondering how many others had noticed. “What do you
mean by receptive and mixed signals?” Sooner or later he’d have to tell her the truth, but he needed to talk to Jay first. No need to
tell her about their relationship if it was only to be it a casual thing. He didn’t think she’d be angry no matter what, but still, now
wasn’t the time.

“Come on, brother mine; when it comes to these things, you’re clueless.”

“I’m clueless?”
I’m hiding a naked man—your best friend—in my bedroom, and you think
I’m
clueless?

She snorted, a very unfeminine sound to be coming from such a delicate looking female. “Yeah, girls used to hit on you all the time and you were
totally oblivious.”

“They did not.”

“Did, too. And the other night girls
and guys
were making you some pretty obvious offers and you just brushed them off like you
didn’t care. But I know you, li’l bro, you probably didn’t notice. I was worried about Terry there for a few
minutes.”

Finally, to his immense relief, she dropped the subject. “Oh, Michael,” she crooned, “that’s so sweet of you, but
you forgot that I can’t eat eggs.”

Her expression would have been comical if he’d had a clue to what she was talking about. Then he looked down and saw two plates sitting in front
of him, one completely covered by a three-egg omelet while another bubbled in the pan. He was cooking Jay breakfast without even realizing it. Backpedaling
hard, he attempted a recovery. “Damn, I’m sorry, Ang. You’re right, I did forget. Would you like some toast
instead?” Holy shit, how could he have been so stupid?

She joined him by the stove, rising up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “No, but that’s really nice of you. Anyway, what I
was saying…” She suddenly leaned in again, her eyes narrowing as she stared at his collar. “Is that…?”

Before he could stop her she reached over, grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled, the look of wicked glee on her face confirming what she’d
seen. “Oh, somebody got lucky,” she sing-songed. “Okay, li’l bro, out with it. Who is she?”

Right on cue the bedroom door opened and a very handsome, very naked man emerged, rubbing his eyes and murmuring, “Michael?” Jay and
Angie saw each other at the same time and froze, while Michael contemplated having the nervous breakdown he’d been building up to all morning.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…

Angie broke the silence. “Way to go, Mikey,” she crowed, eyes never leaving her roommate. She blatantly looked him up and down.
“Nice package, Jay.”

That broke the spell, and Jay moved so fast that he was there one minute and gone the next, the bedroom door slamming behind him.

Angie calmly regarded Michael. “You hurt him and I’ll hurt you. If he hurts you, I’ll hurt him.”

Michael swallowed hard and stared, open-mouthed. You never knew what to expect out of Angie, but he was glad she had his back. Still, his heart hammered
inside his chest. “You’re okay with this?”

He could have counted her teeth, she grinned so wide. “Are you kidding? Mom will be over the moon. However, it does look like I got here a little
late for our ‘Jay likes you’ talk. Sorry,” she added, with unnecessary smugness.

She trailed her fingertips up Michael’s arm and brought them to rest against his cheek. “Just answer me this: is it serious?”

The cat was out of the bag, he might as well be honest. “It is for me.”

“And for him?”

He wished he could answer that Jay felt the same, but he wouldn’t lie to her about such a thing. “We haven’t had a chance to
discuss it yet.”

An elegantly groomed eyebrow arched in surprise. “So, last night was the first time?”

“Angie, that is sooo not your business.”

“Just asking.” She raised her hands, palms out. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Bending to retrieve her purse from the couch where she’d dropped it earlier, she paused for a moment and then exclaimed,
“Aha!” She straightened, holding aloft the T-shirt Jay had worn the night before, a triumphant smile on her face. “Well,
well, well…what have we here?”

Grateful he’d tossed his own stained shirt into the laundry minutes before her arrival, Michael held out his hand, waiting for her to relinquish
her prize.

“Spoilsport,” she pouted, handing it over. “Well, my work here is done so I guess I’ll be going.” She
flashed him another mirthful grin. “We wouldn’t want Jay’s breakfast to get cold, now would we?” Without a backward
glance she turned and let herself out of the apartment.

As the door closed on her retreating back, Michael heard an ecstatic, “Yes! I knew it!”

Chapter Twelve

The bedroom door slowly eased open and Jay peeked out from a two-inch crack. “Is she gone?” How stupid could he be? Walking out naked
and getting caught like that, outing Michael in the process?

Hastily donning his jeans, he waited for the other shoe to fall, for Michael demand that he leave. But the door opened wider and warm hands caressed his
bare sides before enfolding him in a tender embrace. Soft lips traced a path up his neck before descending onto his for a chaste kiss. “Good
morning, Jay. Did you sleep well?” was breathed against his skin.

Finding his voice, Jay asked in shaky tones, “Sssooo, you’re not mad?”

Soft chuckles brushed against his skin, along with the faint rasp of day-old beard. “No, I’m not mad. I wouldn’t have chosen
for her to find out that way, but I have to admit that it’s a relief, no longer having to worry about how to tell her.”

“How’d she take it?”

Michael’s baby blues twinkled with humor. “Let’s just say that I don’t think Mom’s gonna try to fix you
up anymore.” Snagging Jay’s hand, Michael led the way into the kitchen area. “Come on, let’s eat.”

***

Both men had been to that particular house for many a Sunday dinner and normally considered it a treat, but today they were dreading what might happen. Jay
was verbally agonizing about being tossed out while facing accusations of corrupting the elderly couple’s only grandson. Michael, though quieter
with his misgivings, feared being kicked out of the family after hearing a sermon similar to the one the reverend had delivered on that not-so-long-ago
Sunday. But this time the words would have even more impact, delivered by someone whom he loved and respected, who’d be renouncing him from the
family.

Although he loathed the things, Michael took one of the ‘emergency pills’ his doctor had prescribed. Nerves in an uproar,
he’d never make it to the car without help. As it was, Jay brought the Tercel to the front of the store, making up the excuse that he was ready
to go and Michael wasn’t and pulling the car around would be a time saver.
Right.

Once tucked safely in the vehicle, Jay’s squeezed Michael’s hand, their entwined fingers shifting the gears. If he and Jay were going
to see each other, he’d need to tell his grandparents. While Grandma might tend to conveniently ignore things she didn’t want to
acknowledge, Grandpa made a point of knowing what was going on with the family and would see through any attempts to hide something of this magnitude. But
if nothing was going to develop with Jay, well then, no point in opening that particular can of worms.

But how could he ask Jay without sounding needy?

Jay saved him the trouble, voicing Michael’s thoughts. “Do you think you’d like to give it a shot with me? I know
you’re not out, but from what I’ve seen you don’t seem entirely opposed the idea. Do you think you’d like to maybe
go out?” Jay hastened to add, “…when you’re better, that is. If you’re not comfortable here where you
know everybody we could always go out of town.” With a quick glance to his quiet passenger he explained, “I don’t like hiding
who or what I am, but I’ve been out for a very long time. I want to get to know you, let you know me. You don’t have to answer right
now. I just want you to think about it. We can take things slow.”