Chapter 12 #2
Sound reached Mitch’s ears from Alex’s end of the line, a kind of shuffling. Was Alex in bed? Naked? Or maybe with tiny briefs that hugged his dick? Was he running his long fingers through his beard?
Stop that.
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Alex said.
“Oh, it is.” Mitch rolled over on his back and stared at the dots of light on the ceiling.
“She’s obsessed with being proper and constantly worried about what other people think about us.
The fact that I won’t join the family business?
She thinks it looks bad on her. And God forbid the Mountaineers lose a game.
I get a you’re-embarrassing-me-Mitch voicemail, but if we win? It’s like I don’t exist.”
“Mitch…” Alex sighed. “I don’t know what to say besides I’m sorry. What’s the family business?”
“Westlake Waterless Printing. My mom is Greta Westlake. Her grandfather started the company years ago. It’s the biggest environmentally-friendly print company in the States.
Headquarters are in Manhattan, but they’ve got satellite offices in twenty states.
My mom’s always wanted me to join the company like my brother, but it’s not what I want.
” A clacking sound reached Mitch’s ears. “What are you doing?”
“Googling,” Alex said, then more clacking. “Huh. Their motto is ‘people first.’”
Mitch laughed, and then he laughed some more.
“What?” Alex chuckled, and the sound reached right into Mitch and warmed his belly.
“Just…the irony.” People first. That was fucking hysterical.
“I’m sorry your Christmas sucks. Is your brother there?”
“Yup. Ignoring me like a champ.” Mitch kicked the sofa arm and rolled onto his side again. “Even after I gave him his super awesome gift.”
“He didn’t like the clamp kit?”
“Right?” Mitch still didn’t really know what the purpose of a clamp was, or why a woodworker would need one.
The tools all looked like torture devices to him, but the guy at the store had said it was a great gift for woodworkers.
Dan’s hands had shaken when he’d opened his present and he’d paled considerably.
His mumbled thank you hadn’t exactly been heartfelt.
Whatever. There was a gift receipt taped to the box, so Dan could do whatever he wanted with it. Mitch didn’t care.
“His loss then,” Alex said. “What’ve you got planned for the next few days?”
Mitch scratched his cheek on the pillow under his head. “Nothing really. I don’t want to be here anymore, so I’ll probably buy a bus ticket back to Vermont tomorrow.”
“Want to come here instead?”
Mitch stopped breathing. “To…Toronto?”
Alex’s chuckle was low and throaty, and there was something underneath the surface that had Mitch’s hormones taking notice.
“Yes, to Toronto.”
“I…” Sitting up fast, Mitch clutched his head when the movement made him dizzy. The blankets pooled at his waist. “I could do that. I don’t know how I’d get there, though. A bus ticket to Vermont isn’t that much, but to Canada?”
“Don’t you have a car?”
“Cody and I share it. If I take it, he won’t have a way back to school. Unless I come back home and get him.”
“Where is home? I always assumed you were from Vermont somewhere.”
“The Hamptons,” Mitch said absentmindedly, drumming his fingers on his chin.
“Maybe I can borrow my dad’s car? But then I’d still have to come back and drop it off.
Fuck.” Excitement left him as fast as it’d appeared, leaving Mitch cold and bereft.
He fell back onto the couch. “Wait.” He popped back up again.
“Marco’s visiting his parents in Philly.
Maybe…” He thought fast, making connections where he could.
Alex was silent on the other end of the line, but Mitch could hear him breathing, waiting.
“Okay. I think I can make it work. But I have to talk to a couple of people first. Let me call them and I’ll get right back to you. ”
“Maybe wait until tomorrow?” Alex said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “It’s almost one in the morning.”
“Damn it.” Deflating, Mitch rested his forehead against the couch.
“Hey, Mitch?”
“Hmm?”
“Make it work.”
* * *
He made it work.
It took some bribery on Mitch’s part, but he managed to convince Marco to take the tiny detour to the Hamptons to pick up Cody on his way back to school after the holidays.
One promise to review Marco’s lab reports for their neuromuscular exercise physiology course next semester later, as well as a reassurance from Cody that he was happy for Mitch to take the car for a week and a half, and Mitch was ready to hit the road by lunchtime the next day.
Cody had offered to come with him, but Cody’s mom had taken time off work over the holidays to spend time with him, and Mitch didn’t want to interfere with that.
His mother and Dan were nowhere to be found, and Mitch had already said his goodbyes to his dad, who was the only person he felt bad leaving behind.
“Don’t worry about me, kiddo,” his dad had said this morning before meeting up with some friends for breakfast. “Go. Have fun. Have Alex take you up the CN Tower and send me a picture from the top.”
Mitch wasn’t sure how he felt about being up that high, but he hugged his dad goodbye, then finished making himself some snacks for the road—mostly peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grapes, and protein bars.
Google Maps estimated a nine-hour drive, but Mitch budgeted ten for road work traffic, pee breaks, and delays at the border.
Backpack on his shoulders, skates tied together by the laces and hanging around his neck, Mitch picked up his duffel and was halfway out the door for the two-block walk to Cody’s to pick up the car when he heard his name shouted from down the hall.
Dan jogged up to him. In pressed khakis and a golf shirt, he looked like he was ready to head out to the country club for a round of scotch on the rocks and gossip. Mitch, in his old jeans, flannel shirt, and scuffed boots, felt like the younger, grubbier brother he was.
“You’re leaving already?” Dan stopped a few feet from Mitch. “I thought you were staying until New Year’s.”
“Change of plans.” Mitch transferred the duffel to his other hand. “I’m visiting a friend in Toronto.”
“Oh.” Dan’s eyebrows went up. “Cool. Go visit Kensington Market. You’ll love it.”
“Um, okay?” When had his brother been in Toronto?
“Got your passport?”
Mitch nodded once. “Yup.”
“Good, good. Here.” Dan dug into his pocket and came out with some coins. He handed them to Mitch. “Change for the tolls.”
Mitch gaped at the coins in his hand for a second. It was a nice gesture from Dan. Completely unexpected, but nice. Mitch already had change for the tolls, but he didn’t want to rock this too-nice boat Dan was captaining by giving it back, so he simply pocketed it and said thanks.
“You’re welcome.” Dan’s smile was stiff, but it was there. “Drive safe.”
A throat cleared delicately from the landing at the top of the stairs. His mother stood in a knee-length pink dress and matching high heels, her brown hair coiffed in some kind of twist thing. She was as cold as the winter wind seeping into the house from the open door at Mitch’s back.
Dan’s face blanked and he took a step back from Mitch, then said, “See ya,” and disappeared the way he’d come.
What the hell?
His mother cleared her throat again.
Jesus, what? Mitch sent her a mock salute and a cheery smile through clenched teeth. “Merry Christmas,” he said, and walked out the door.