Chapter 9
LOUIS
“Is it on? Can you hear me? Natalie!” Mom leaned back, tipped her chin up, and hollered for my sister. “Come help me with this thing!”
“Mom,” I said, raising my voice in an attempt to make myself heard over her yelling. “I can see you, and I’m pretty sure my neighbors can hear you too.”
We should have gone for a regular phone call, but I’d wanted to see my new niece, and though it had been my choice not to fly out to spend the holiday with my family, that didn’t mean I didn’t miss spending Christmas Day with them.
“Oh, you can hear me? Good.”
“Mom, half the neighborhood can hear you. People three counties over can hear you. It’s a good thing Louise sleeps through everything just like her father.
Merry Christmas, Lou!” Natalie’s smile filled the screen as she sat in the chair next to Mom, my newborn niece sleeping in her arms. I still couldn’t believe she’d named the baby after me.
“Merry Christmas,” I said, smiling through the ache in my chest while trying not to second-guess my decision to stay back. “How’s my beautiful niece doing?’
“Sleeps like the dead unless she’s hungry, in which case, she yells the whole house down. But I can’t complain too much because at least she is sleeping. Lauren’s baby—you remember Lauren from St. Cecilia’s?—her baby’s nine months old and still isn’t sleeping through the night.”
“Wasn’t Lauren the one who married the eye doctor who collected trains?” Mom asked.
“No, you’re thinking of Lorena. Lauren married her high school sweetheart and moved to Denver last year. They own a yoga studio in Vail.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I always liked her mother. Such a nice lady.”
Natalie gave her a look that clearly said you’re full of shit. “Oh really? Is that why you went on and on about how much eyeliner she wore every time we ran into her?”
“What do you want me to say? The woman looked like a raccoon. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t nice.”
“You wouldn’t let me go over to Lauren’s house until I was sixteen because you said a woman who wore makeup like that was surely trying to tempt the devil.”
I snorted, picturing Mom saying something just like that.
We’d been raised Catholic, attending parochial school through the eighth grade, so our entire childhood had been immersed in Catholic guilt with a heavy side of Catholic judgment.
I’d been terrified to come out, sure my family would disown me due to their strict religious beliefs, but Mom had hugged me, told me God hadn’t made a mistake when He made me, and hadn’t set foot in a Catholic church again. Still, some habits were hard to break.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Mom said with a harumph.
“You have the most selective memory of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“This is the thanks I get for flying down here and helping with the baby, changing diapers, doing the laundry, making dinner . . .”
Natalie rolled her eyes, but leaned over and kissed Mom on the cheek. “You’re right. And I do appreciate you.”
“That’s better.” She turned her attention back to the screen. “And you? How’s my baby boy, all alone on Christmas?”
“I’m forty-two, Mom. I’m hardly a baby.”
“I still can’t believe you chose to spend Christmas alone instead of coming down here with your family.”
“Mom . . .”
“I know, I know. It’s just not right without you here.”
“Quit harassing the boy.” Dad walked into the frame, crouching down so I could see his face. “Merry Christmas, Lou!”
“Thanks, Pop!”
He turned his attention to Natalie. “Where’s the remote? I want to watch the game.”
“Isn’t Charlie back there? Can’t he help you?”
Movement outside the window caught my eye, my family’s bickering fading into the background.
Someone was out on the balcony, apparently sweeping.
It was hard to tell with the layers of clothes he was wearing, but I thought it was Matthew.
I had the compulsion to walk over to the window and verify that it was him, but I couldn’t step out of frame of the call without answering questions from my family.
As the bickering continued on-screen, I sipped my coffee, thinking back to the moment I’d woken up during the night.
I’d been startled out of sleep, blinking into the dark, wondering what had woken me, when I’d distinctly heard a moan from the other side of the wall.
Certain I’d been mistaken, I’d lain frozen, eyes wide as if that would somehow help me to hear better, waiting to see if I’d catch the sound again.
I’d been just about to give up when I’d heard a thud and another muffled groan.
Scrambling, I’d sat up and leaned my head against the wall, hoping to hear it again. Was Matthew jerking off next door?
Initially, I’d had difficulty picturing him in the throes of a masturbatory session.
He was so serious—so dour—it was hard to imagine him letting loose in that way.
But the more improbable I’d found the idea, the more my brain had supplied the images anyway.
Matthew laid out on his bed, hand fisting his cock, head thrown back .
. . eyes squeezed shut and brows drawn up in concentration while his mouth hung open, breath coming in gasps as he worked himself over.
Would he cup his balls while he stroked?
Did he use lube? Did straight guys know about lube?
Jesus. I’d been fantasizing about my straight, widowed neighbor. And on Christmas Eve. Surely I was going to hell.
Whether or not the man was giving himself a handy wasn’t my business. And if he had been doing so, then good for him. Everyone deserved a a little self-love.
I’d resolved then and there to go back to bed, sliding back down between the sheets, trying my damndest to ignore the erection I’d been rocking as the result of my overactive imagination.
Unfortunately, I’d gone to bed nude, and the feel of the sheets brushing against my oversensitive dick had made my arousal impossible to ignore.
Knowing it was a lost cause, I’d quickly stroked one out—using lube, of course—before settling back in to sleep.
“Lou? Louis?! Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” I jerked my eyes back to the screen to find both my mother and my sister staring at me expectantly. Well, in my mom’s case it was more like a glare than a stare.
“Sorry. Something outside caught my attention.”
“Oh my gosh! Is it a bear? A mountain lion? I worry about you out there in the middle of nowhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a small town, not an isolated cabin in the woods. I’m literally in an apartment above the hardware store. I hardly think a bear is going to climb up a flight of stairs and beat down my door.”
“Depends on the type of bear . . .” My sister’s smirk was smug as fuck. Too bad this particular bear was straight and unlikely to beat down my door anytime soon.
I picked up my mug and sipped my coffee, but something on my face must have given me away. “Wait. Is there a bear?” Dammit. Natalie had always been able to read me better than anyone.
“No. It’s just my neighbor. He’s brushing snow off the walk.”
“So what’s his story?”
“I’ve been here a little over two days. What makes you think I know his story?”
The two most important women in my life arched their brows in eerily similar expressions. A shudder ran up my spine, and I found myself spilling what I knew. I really was the worst at keeping things to myself.
“Fine. He’s a widower. Wife died of cancer. He and his wife opened a bookstore, which he now runs by himself, and he lives in the apartment next door to the one I’m renting.”
“Seems like you know plenty.”
I’m also pretty sure I know what he sounds like when he comes.
I shrugged. “I’ve bumped into him a couple of times. His bookstore is delightful.”
“Sounds like he could use some company,” Mom said, her tone heavy with meaning. The woman didn’t have a subtle bone in her body.
“Did you miss the part about the dead wife? Pretty sure the guy is straight.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe he’s one of those bisexuals.”
“Those bisexuals?”
She waved me off. “You know what I mean. Didn’t you make the same assumption about your friend Jonathan?
He was married to a woman and you just officiated his wedding to a man.
” She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in smug satisfaction.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong. I had made that assumption.
“It’s really a moot point because I’m only here until the second and then I’m heading back to the city.”
“So? You don’t have to marry the guy. And what are you going to do for the next week anyway? Stare at the walls? You’re a raging extrovert. You’ll go nuts if you don’t talk to anyone.”
She had a point there. While I valued time to myself a lot more than I used to, I did have a tendency to go stir crazy if I went too long without human interaction. Still, I was pretty sure Matthew was the opposite. If anything, he’d probably prefer as little interaction as possible.
I was saved from further response by a loud shriek coming from the bundle in Natalie’s arms. It was amazing how much sound such a little body could produce.
“Shit, I’m sorry to cut it short, Lou. She’s due for a feeding and a change.
Mom, you stay here and talk to Lou. Merry Christmas, big brother! ”
“Merry Christmas,” I said as she rose to take care of her daughter. Mom’s eyes trailed them as Natalie exited out of the frame. “It’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to stick around. I know you’re dying to go help.”
Her eyes softened as she returned her gaze back to mine. “She’s got Charlie. I’m pretty sure she only lets me help to humor me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Pssh. Are you sure you’re okay there by yourself?”
“Yeah, Mom. I miss you guys, of course, but I just . . . I needed to do my own thing this year.”
“Oh, honey. You’ll be celebrating the holidays with a family of your own soon. I really do believe that.”
“I don’t know. I’m forty-two. I’m starting to think that ship has sailed.”
“It’s never too late for love. Don’t give up.”
I flashed a weak smile. “Okay, Mom. I’m gonna let you go. I love you. Merry Christmas.”
“I love you too, honey. Merry Christmas!”
I disconnected the call, plunging the apartment into silence.
I’d never felt so alone.