Epilogue
Lucas stared at the little white house. The
roof was in bad shape, so it would be the first priority. And the
place definitely needed a coat of paint, and some weatherproofing
before the winter hit. Then there was plenty to do on the
inside—some rewiring, some plumbing, and lots of cosmetic stuff. It
was a fixer-upper, for sure. “It doesn’t feel real,” he said almost
to himself.
Mark grunted as he lowered the tailgate of
their rental trailer. “It’s real. Now come help me. This stuff
isn’t going to move itself.”
They were just maneuvering the couch down the
trailer’s ramp when Elise’s pickup pulled into the driveway, its
back piled high with the last of Mark’s belongings from the
apartment. Alex swung out of the driver’s side and grabbed a box
from the truck bed. “Moving sucks,” he said in greeting.
Sebastian climbed out of the passenger side.
He and Alex had only been together for a couple weeks, so he was
kind of a saint for helping with the move. And for putting up with
Alex’s bitching. “At least you guys don’t have too much stuff,” he
said as he selected a box to carry. “It took three moving vans to
get my family here.”
“And movers, I bet.” Alex nodded
emphatically. “That’s the way this should be done. Hot, fit guys
getting all sweaty while we watch.” He started for the front door.
“That’s my kind of moving.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and followed Alex.
Lucas shook his head at Mark’s expression. “We do not have
money for movers. And this is good exercise. And I used to work as
a mover, part-time. We broke a lot of shit.”
“I’m not complaining,” Mark said. “Especially
if my own hot, fit guy starts getting sweaty while I watch.”
“It’s November. I’m not going to get all that
sweaty today.”
“I think I can find ways to make you
sweat.”
Lucas grinned and didn’t argue. Mark could
definitely get him worked up, and Lucas knew they’d both enjoy the
sensations. But not quite yet. “Grab your end,” he directed. “We’re
going to have to turn it on its side.”
They’d almost finished emptying the trailer
by the time Darren arrived. The parole officer struggled out of his
car and leaned back in to pull out four steaming pizza boxes.
“Thank God,” Alex said emphatically. “We can
take a break.”
“No pizza until that trailer’s empty,” Darren
replied. “I’ll put these in the oven to stay warm.”
Lucas ignored Alex’s moaning and watched
another vehicle pulling up in front of the house. Mrs. Gage was
behind the wheel and when she saw Lucas looking at her, she slowly
shook her head. He jogged down to her window. “He wouldn’t
come?”
“Said he’d be in the way. He’s still doing
his self-pity thing. But the ramps are great, Lucas. And the
bathroom. Thanks so much for helping us with all that.” They’d had
to move Sean’s bedroom to the main floor and change around the
bathroom to make room for a shower. Lucas had tried to get Sean
involved in at least the planning stages of it all, but Mrs. Gage
was right. The man was still wallowing in self-pity and hadn’t let
himself be engaged.
“It’ll take time,” Lucas said, mostly because
he had no other words to offer. “But I’ve figured out how to build
a ramp here—in through the back of the garage, I think. So once
he’s ready to come over, we’ll be ready for him. And in the
meantime I’ll keep coming by when I can.”
“I know you will.” Her smile looked forced,
but at least she was making the effort. And her expression
brightened a little as she leaned over and pulled a series of
plastic containers off the passenger seat. “I made these for you.
Casseroles, mostly, but there’s one with chicken and one with
pasta. They’re all two-person sizes, so you and your lovely man can
have dinner together without worrying about cooking.”
Lucas was surprised to find himself almost
choked up by her support. It was always the little things that
caught him. “Thank you,” he said. “I can return the containers to
you when they’re empty.”
“And I can fill them up again. With Sean
hardly eating and the others spending so much time out of the
house, I miss having people to cook for!”
“Do you want to come in now? We’re just about
to eat.”
But she shook her head sadly. “Stacey’s
watching Sean, but she has things to do today. I’d better get
back.”
Lucas nodded his understanding. Sean’s
therapist was still worried about his state of mind and one of the
conditions of his release from the hospital was that he needed to
be watched closely. As grumpy and unpleasant as he could be, the
family was taking their commitment seriously, and Sean was rarely
alone.
“Thanks for coming by. And thanks for the
food.” Lucas stepped back from the curb and watched the van pull
away, then turned to find Mark watching him.
“Nice,” Mark said. That was all, but Lucas
was pretty sure Mark was thinking of his own mother. She’d allowed
Mark to visit her a few times, but Mark always came home from those
meetings drained and in need of comfort. Lucas was happy to offer
support, but it did seem a bit sad that it was Lucas’s surrogate
mother offering them food for their new home, not Mark’s actual
mom. Sad, and Lucas’s fault. But Mark just helped Lucas carry the
food inside and then snuck a kiss behind the open freezer door, so
Lucas didn’t let himself worry about it too much.
Father Groban was the next visitor, arriving
as they were setting up chairs around the dining room table. The
furniture was all from Mark’s apartment and it looked kind of
strange in the little house, familiar items in a new setting. But
the team had somewhere to sit, so Lucas wasn’t complaining.
And Father Groban didn’t waste any time in
pulling up his own chair. “I already ate,” he said when offered a
slice. “I just wanted to come by and share in the joy of the
occasion.” He smiled at the assemblage. “It’s lovely to see you all
so happy. And exciting to see this house turning into a home.”
“A home that needs a lot of work,” Lucas said
resignedly.
“All homes need work. Whether physical or
spiritual, it’s the effort that makes the thing special.”
“Effort,” Alex said. “Effort sucks.”
“Not if it pays off,” Sebastian said quietly.
He shrugged at Alex’s look. “Like coming out. It’s hard, and you
have to work at it, but then…it pays off. Right?”
“Being honest with yourself, and with
everyone else,” Mark added. “About anything. It’s worth the
effort.”
“And changing careers midstream, going back
to school…that’s worth the effort too?” Alex raised an eyebrow in
Mark’s direction.
But Mark only smiled in return. “It
absolutely is. Because it’s part of being honest with myself and
everyone else. I wasn’t meant to be a priest anymore. It would have
been harder, long-term, to keep lying about that.”
“And you’re going to be a kick-ass social
worker,” Lucas said firmly. “You can help even more people and you
won’t have as much bullshit getting in the way.”
“Probably still some,” Terry warned gently.
“But I agree—you’re going to be excellent at the job.”
“He’ll look after the people, and Lucas will
look after the animals.” Alex nodded as if it made perfect sense.
“But I bet Mark’s people won’t get as fat as Lucas’s animals!”
“You’re the one that overfeeds them, not
me!”
“Your squirrel? I have never seen such a big
squirrel in my life.”
Lucas grinned sheepishly. He had to admit,
the squirrel was a little oversized. He looked out the window into
the dusk. “I hope she can find us here.”
“You’re on the same block still. You can
probably see the old backyard from here. She’ll find you.” Alex
sounded confident, but Lucas really didn’t know too much about
squirrel territories or how far they ranged.
“If she doesn’t find us, we’ll help her,”
Mark said quietly. “We can lay a trail of peanut butter or
something. We’ll make it work.”
And there it was again, the surprising
feeling of getting choked up over something stupid. He had friends
who didn’t laugh at him for caring about a rodent and a lover who
was willing to climb over fences to lure that rodent through the
neighborhood.
He’d found a family, and they were going to
make a home. His life was sweeter than he’d ever thought it could
be. Sure, he still worried sometimes. The more he had, the more
there was to lose. But he was strong enough to face that risk.
Mark leaned over the table and found Lucas’s
hand. “We’ll make it work,” he said again, and Lucas knew he was
talking about more than the squirrel.
“Yeah. We will.” Lucas replied. And he meant
it.