Chapter Twenty #2
Greg shrugged. “I figured you might have had enough of these two insulting you all the time. Maybe it’s time to show them what you’re made of.”
Joshua nodded, his eyes gleaming. “Exactly. And I get to experiment on them too.” He regarded Greg warmly. “Thank you.”
“Oh, these are great!” She held up the T-shirts for her dad to see. One had MEH in large letters across the front, another had In Memory Of When I Cared, and the third, This Is What AWESOME looks like. She beamed at Greg. “These are so me!”
He had to laugh at her reaction. “Funny—that thought occurred to me too.”
Naomi flew across the space between them and hugged him. “Thank you. Wow, you got to know me so fast!” When she released him, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “So glad you’re here. It’s gonna be such a pity when you have to leave.”
For a second, Greg’s heart stuttered, but he said nothing. Everything was still up in the air.
“Oh, Greg. It’s beautiful,” Micah said in an awed tone. He held the stainless-steel bracelet, inset with pieces of abalone.
“I wanted to get you something that an artist would appreciate. The colors in the abalone are just gorgeous.”
Micah nodded. “I agree. But… when did you get this?”
Joshua coughed. “He may have had a little help.”
Micah laughed, and leaned across to kiss Greg, not on the cheek as Naomi had done, but on the mouth. Nor was it a peck on the lips either.
Micah kissed him like a lover.
It took Greg all of one second to respond, lifting his hands to cup Micah’s face. He wasn’t going to hide his feelings, not after that display of affection. When Micah broke the kiss, he stared at Greg. “Wow.”
Greg smiled. “Ditto.” He tore the wrapping paper from the heavy square package, to find a plain white box, filled with polystyrene pieces.
Carefully he removed the top layer, to see the gleam of glass.
He removed the rest of the packaging, and lifted out the object.
“It’s a snow globe.” Then he frowned. “Isn’t that the Devil’s Tower?
” Around the thick base was emblazoned the word, Wyoming.
“Yup.” Micah gave a nod of approval. “I’m impressed that you recognize it.”
Greg had to chuckle. “One of my favorite movies of all time is Close Encounters of the Third Kind.” He turned the globe upside down. “Aw, damn.”
“What’s wrong?”
He grinned. “I was looking for the key to turn, so it could play de-de-de-de-deeeee. And the only way you could improve on this? Instead of snow floating around it, it should have little glittery UFOs.”
Micah smiled. “I wanted to give you something to remember your stay in Wyoming. So… do you like it?”
Greg kissed him on the lips. “I love it. Not that I needed something to remind me of Wyoming.” Micah had already claimed his heart.
Naomi’s impatient, loud sigh broke the moment. “When you two have finished, Misters Kissy McKissy Face…”
Greg laughed so hard, he almost coughed up a lung.
Micah got up from the couch. “I haven’t wrapped your present yet, Dad. I just need to go find it.” He left the living room.
Joshua put down his cookery book. “Thank you,” he said quietly, not meeting their gaze.
“Today was never gonna be easy, but this is better than I thought it would be. For the first time in a long while, I feel like your mom wouldn’t be pissed if she walked through that door.
She might even smile.” He gazed at the tree. “And she’d love this.”
Naomi got up and moved to sit beside his armchair, her head on his knee. Joshua stroked her long hair. Silence fell, but it wasn’t awkward.
Micah walked into the room, holding a large, flat object, and Greg knew immediately what it was. He handed it to his dad. “I only finished it last night, so it’s not ready for hanging yet, but…”
Joshua stared at the portrait, his brown eyes large and round.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wiped them away.
“Oh, Micah. It’s her. It’s really her.” He lifted his head and smiled.
“Thank you, son. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gift.
” Carefully he put down the canvas and stood up, his arms wide.
Micah stepped into the circle of those arms and they hugged in silence.
Greg watched them, his heart aching. The love they shared, and the ways in which they shared it, was nothing short of wonderful. If anything, the sight only firmed his resolve.
I’m doing the right thing. I hope.
The center of the table was so full, it was difficult to find a spot that wasn’t covered by a dish or plate of food.
A gloriously brown turkey, its skin crisp and succulent, sat in front of Dad.
A deep bowl of mashed potatoes, another with carrots, and yet another with turnips and parsnips, surrounded it.
Cranberry sauce, gravy and dressing filled up the gaps.
Naomi had brought out the wedding china, white with a gold trim, and the best wine glasses.
The silverware gleamed. Tall red candles stood in elegant candlesticks, their flames flickering, the light dancing on the walls.
Micah sat facing his dad, Naomi to his right and Greg to his left.
It was perfect. Well, almost.
Micah raised his glass. “To family.” His words echoed around the table. The toast over, he sipped the chilled white wine, relishing its citrus flavors. Then he smiled. “I’m starved,” he lied.
Naomi snorted. “No change there then.” Then she attacked her turkey with gusto.
Greg hadn’t taken a bite yet.
Micah indicated the food with his fork. “Hey, come on. We slaved all afternoon on this.”
Greg put down his wine glass and stared at him. “What’s wrong?”
Micah blinked. “Wrong? Nothing’s wrong.” His pulse sped up.
“Sure.” Greg folded his arms. “That’s why I’ve had this feeling all day that you’re hiding something. Several times I caught you looking at me, and you seemed so… sad. And before you remind me what today is, no, it’s not that. It’s something to do with me.”
“Don’t do this. Not now.” Micah set his jaw. It was Christmas Day, for God’s sake, a day that held enough pain for them. He wasn’t about to add to that by spoiling the atmosphere with an outburst.
Greg stared at him. “Do you really think I could enjoy this food, knowing you’re hiding something from me? Like I can’t see it in your face? Tell me, Micah. Please?”
Micah drew in a deep breath. “Do you really want to know?” He pushed his plate aside. “Of course I’m sad. Because right now, this is perfect. Dad got it right this morning. You’re one of the family now.”
Greg arched his eyebrows. “And this makes you sad?”
“You’re damn straight I’m sad!” Micah fought to draw breath into his lungs.
“Because there will come a day when you leave here. I’ve known that ever since you spoke with that detective.
And when you walk out that door, you’ll be taking my goddamn heart with you!
” His chest heaved, and his throat hurt, but they were as nothing compared to the ache in his heart.
Dad’s breathing caught, and beside him, Naomi smothered a gasp, her fork clanging as it hit her plate.
Greg gaped at him. “That’s it? That’s what’s bothering you?” He shook his head. “Why in hell would I want to leave here, when that means leaving you?”
Micah froze. “What?”
“Don’t you think those same thoughts haven’t been going through my head too?
But there was damn all I could do about it, not while I’m still banged up like this.
That didn’t stop me from doing a little research.
” Greg glanced across the table to Naomi.
“Could you go to my room, please, and fetch your dad’s laptop from the nightstand? ”
“Sure.” Naomi scooted away from the table.
Dad cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to say anything before now, but—”
“You didn’t have to,” Greg interjected. “I got the message loud and clear yesterday. You didn’t say it in so many words, but the meaning was clear—’You’re gonna hurt my son.’ And I couldn’t do that, sir. How could I hurt him?” Greg’s gaze met Micah’s. “I love him.”
Everything just… stopped.
“You love me?”
Greg smiled. “Of course I love you. You’re amazing. I’ve only scratched the surface of knowing you, and I can’t wait to learn more.” He stilled, and Micah knew what he was waiting for.
Slowly, he reached for Greg’s hand. “I love you too. And I don’t want to lose you.”
Naomi gave a little sob from the doorway. “That was probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” She came over to Greg and handed him the laptop, before bending low to kiss his cheek. Then she scooted back to her chair.
Greg pushed his plate to one side to make room.
He booted up the laptop, then turned it to show Micah a series of bookmarks.
“Look at these vacancies. Product Manager. Efficiency Consultant. Account Manager. Pretty much any corporate job I can find. Do you know what doors an MBA opens? Oh, Lord, just about anything.” He grinned.
“And these are just the tip of the iceberg.”
Micah peered at the screen. “These… these are all companies in Wyoming.”
Greg’s grin hadn’t diminished. “Duh. Why would I look anywhere else, when I already have a house in this State? A house, I might add, with a large upstairs room that gets lots of natural light. Perfect for turning into, say, an artist’s studio.
” He reached for Micah’s hand. “That’s if there’s an artist who wants to come live with me. Know anyone who might be interested?”
Micah caught his breath. “Seriously?”
Greg nodded. “I don’t know when—or even if—this police business will get cleared up, but I’m prepared for whatever happens. What I am not prepared for, however, is leaving this house without you at my side.”
“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” Naomi said quietly. “Wyoming doesn’t have a hate crimes statute.”
Greg breathed deeply. “Then we’ll prosecute them for assault if we can. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters right now is Micah’s answer.” He locked gazes with him. “Want to start a new life with me?”